1

two-legs moved with his herd from one meadow to the other.

the herd increased year by year, as did his family. mrs. two-legs had now borne her husband seven sons and seven daughters, who were all doing well and helping in the house and with the cattle.

and the animals were more and more pleased to be in his service.

the horse carried him when he went hunting and walked beside him when he struck the tent and moved to a new pasturage. he came at two-legs’ call and neither he nor any other animals thought seriously of running away, so that trust had an easy job in watching over them. now and then they felt an inclination for freedom, especially when they were talking to the wild animals. but it went no further than the inclination.

for instance, one night in the rainy season, the stag came to the tent which two-legs had put up to protect his animals:

“well, you’re nice and dry here,” said the stag and looked enviously into the tent.

“you’re right,” replied the sheep. “it is really much better than in the old days, when we used to take shelter under a tree and get drenched all the same.”

“just so,” said the cow. “and in the dry season too it was pleasant every day to get our food, which two-legs had stored up for us, instead of having to go all over the country as before, in search of a blade of grass.”

“but i thought you had to drudge for it,” said the stag. “i have often seen you drudging and toiling for your master.”

“one good turn deserves another,” said the horse. “for the rest, i can’t deny that my presentiments have been fulfilled. all my limbs hurt me terribly after the day’s work.”

“and so do ours,” said the ox and the cow.

the duck, the goose and the hen agreed. but the sheep shook her fat head, while she went on chewing the cud:

“i can’t remember what sort of presentiment i had,” she said. “i am well off as i am.”

“are you grumbling over there?” asked trust, who was keeping watch and never slept with more than one eye shut. “shall i call the master?”

the stag took fright and ran away. but the horse said:

“no, please do nothing of the sort. he has worked hard himself to-day and is no doubt as tired as we are. it would be a sin to wake him.”

then it grew still in the tent.

but two-legs in his own tent was not asleep.

on the contrary, he was wide awake, thinking over things, and his wife could not sleep either, for she was thinking too.

“i am sick of wandering about the country,” he said at last. “we are no longer young, we have a very big family and sometimes the work makes me tired.”

“me too,” said mrs. two-legs. “but that has nothing to do with it. we are obliged to move about to get the grass we want.”

two-legs said nothing for the moment.

he rose and went out into the rain, had a look at his animals and then came back again and sat down in his old place. the lion was roaring outside in the meadow.

“did you hear him?” asked mrs. two-legs.

two-legs nodded.

“tell me,” he said, after a while, “where does the grass come from?”

“you know as well as i do,” she said. “we have often talked of how it scatters its seed and how the seed shoots up between the old withered blades when the rain comes.”

“quite right,” said two-legs. “and why shouldn’t we collect the seed and sow it ourselves? now, if we pull up all the old grass and take the seed of the kind which our animals like best, we ought to be able to make it grow much thicker. and then we could reap the seed again and sow it again and go on living in the same place year after year.”

“oh, if we could only do that!” cried mrs. two-legs and clapped her hands.

“why not?” said two-legs. “and, if we succeed in this, then we can build a proper, solid house for ourselves and our animals. i am sure that we can fell the biggest trees with our flint axes, if only we have the patience and persevere. as soon as the rain stops, i shall go out and look for a place where we can settle down for the rest of our days.”

2

a week later, the sky was clear again. two-legs mounted his horse, took leave of his family and said that he would not come home before he had found what he sought. he did not return till the evening of the third day and ordered them to pack up early next morning and go with him.

when they came to the place, they had to admit that he had made a good choice.

it was easy to see that the ground was good and fertile, everything around grew so fresh and luxuriant. there was a large, open field and on one side of it was the forest, on the other a meadow, which, in its turn, ran down to a great lake, where fish leapt and played. beyond the lake were the distant blue mountains, which were beautiful to look at and to dream of. just at the edge of the forest lay a hill, at whose foot a brook flowed. the brook ran into the river, which wound through the meadow, and the river ran into the lake.

and the field and the meadow were full of all kinds of grass and flowers. there were poppies larger and redder than two-legs had ever seen. and there were bluebells and carrots, convolvuluses and corn-flowers. they grew and spread themselves as they pleased, for they themselves were the lords of the land.

“this is where we shall settle,” said two-legs. “we shall build a big, strong house on the hill, with stables for our animals and a palisade outside to keep off those who wish us harm. let us start without delay. you’ll see something, once the house is there!”

he and his sons set to work at once felling trees.

they laboured patiently day after day; but they had to chop hard with their stone axes before the big trees gave way. a cry of dismay went from tree to tree, far into the forest:

“what is happening?... what does he want with us?... why must we die?” whispered the trees to one another.

3

but two-legs and his sons heard nothing and saw nothing. they worked and worked till they had what they wanted. and then they built a strong wooden house on the hill, built two houses, then three: one for themselves, a stable for the animals and a big long house for which two-legs had a purpose of which he did not speak for the present.

they closed up all the chinks with moss. and round the whole farm they built a palisade of tall stakes and woven twigs, which made a good wall to protect them against their enemies.

“that’s that,” said two-legs. “now to work!”

he told his wife to sew a leather bag for himself and one for each of the family. then they went to the field and the meadow and filled their bags with seed of every sort of grass that they wanted to sow.

“won’t you have a few of my seeds?” asked the poppy, shedding her scarlet petals. “i have thousands of them in my head and i am the prettiest in the land.”

“you may be pretty,” said two-legs, “but i have no use for you.”

“you’ve passed me by,” said the violet, modestly.

“you’re forgetting me,” cried the thistle. “i am the proudest and strongest in the whole meadow.”

“but i am the toughest,” cried the dock.

“mind you take none of their seed,” said two-legs to his family. “our animals don’t eat them.”

so they went home with full bags and out and home again, until they had heaped up a mighty store.

“now we will prepare the ground,” said two-legs. “come, my dear horse, and lend me your strength, as you have done before.”

he made a plough, harnessed the horse to it and drove it across the field, step by step and furrow after furrow. he rejoiced when he saw the earth turn under the stone blades of the plough.

“what’s the meaning of this?” said the poppy and was forthwith ploughed over.

“it’s no use,” cried the thistle. “our seed will come up and tease you.”

“we’ll see about that,” said two-legs.

then he told his family to pull up all the thistles and throw them away. and, when he had ploughed as much as he wanted, he took the grass-seed which they had gathered and sowed it in the good, fresh earth.

“now we must wait for the rain,” he said, “and see how things go.”

4

and the rainy season came and things went as two-legs had hoped.

little green shoots sprouted all over the ploughed field, all alike, all grass of the kind which the animals loved. here and there, it is true, a thistle appeared and a poppy; but most of it was good grass.

“look!” said two-legs, gladly. “now we only want the sunshine and then it will grow.”

the sun came and the whole field was a lovely green carpet which grew so that one could see it grow from day to day.

one morning, the stag came to the edge of the forest and beheld all this with amazement. then he shouted into the forest to his family:

“come along! here’s the finest field of grass you ever saw in your lives! hurry up and come. i’ve started grazing already.”

“you’ve started grazing, have you?” cried two-legs and came rushing up with his spear. “out of this, you thief! do you imagine that i have sown corn in the sweat of my brow for you to eat? get out of it! this field belongs to me!”

the stag fled as fast as he could into the forest. but the sparrow flew round and told the news on every hand:

“two-legs has taken a great piece of land which no one is allowed to touch. he called the stag a thief when he tried to graze on it.”