A miserable little nag, half-covered with a small, stiff mat, stood hard by, with the running-gear of a cart.

The forester uttered not a word; the peasant also maintained silence, and merely shook his head.
"Let him go," I whispered in The Wolf's ear.

"I will pay for the tree." The Wolf, without replying, grasped the horse's foretop with his left hand; with his right he held the thief by the belt.
"Come, move on, simpleton!" he ejaculated surlily.
"Take my axe yonder," muttered the peasant.

"Why should it be wasted," said the forester, and picked up the axe.

We started.
I walked in the rear....