BRUIN GOODFELLOW

Once upon a time, there was a farmer who traveled far up into the mountains to gather leaves for his cattle's winter bedding. When he reached the leaf pile, he backed his sled up to it and began rolling leaves down. But under the pile lay a bear, who had made his winter den there. Feeling the man trampling above, the bear jumped out and landed right on the sled.

As soon as the horse caught wind of the bear, it grew frightened and bolted, as if it had stolen both bear and sled. It ran back much faster than it had come.

Bruin, as they call the bear, is a brave fellow, but even he was not pleased with his ride this time. He sat there, holding on as best he could, glaring and grimacing, thinking of jumping off. But he wasn't used to sledding, so he decided to stay put.

After riding a good distance, he met a peddler. "Where in heaven's name is the sheriff going today? He's surely in a hurry—he drives so fast!" But Bruin said not a word, for all he could do was hold on tight.

A little further on, a beggar woman met him. She nodded and greeted him, begging for a penny in God's name. But Bruin said not a word, just held on and drove faster than ever.

A bit further, Reynard the fox met him. "Ho, ho!" said Reynard. "Out for a drive? Stop a bit and let me hop on behind as your post-boy." But Bruin said nothing, held on like grim death, and drove on as fast as the horse could run.

"Well, well!" screamed Reynard after him. "If you won't take me, I'll tell your fortune: though you drive like a daredevil today, tomorrow you'll hang with your hide off!" But Bruin never heard him. On he drove until the horse reached the farm, galloped into the open stable door at full speed, tearing off sled and harness. Poor Bruin knocked his skull against the doorframe and fell dead on the spot.

All this time, the farmer knew nothing of what had happened. He rolled down bundle after bundle of leaves. When he thought he had enough and went down to tie them on, he could find neither horse nor sled.

He had to tramp along the road to find his horse. After a while, he met the peddler. "Have you seen my horse and sled?" "No," said the peddler, "but further down I met the sheriff; he drove so fast, he must have been going to arrest someone."

A while later, he met the beggar woman. "Have you seen my horse and sled?" "No," she said, "but I met the parson down there; he must have been going to a parish meeting, he drove so fast, and on a borrowed horse."

A while later, he met the fox. "Have you seen my horse and sled?" "Yes!" said the fox. "Bruin Goodfellow sat on it, driving as if he had stolen both horse and harness."

"Devil take him!" said the farmer. "I'll bet he'll run my horse to death."

"If he does, flay him and roast him before the fire!" said Reynard. "But if you get your horse back, you can give me a lift over the mountain. I can ride well, and I'd like to see how it feels to have four legs before me."

"What will you give for the lift?" asked the farmer.

"You can have what you like," said Reynard, "either wet or dry. You'll always get more out of me than out of Bruin Goodfellow, for he's a rough one to pay back when he takes a fancy to riding and hangs on a horse's back."

"Well, you shall have a lift over the mountain," said the farmer, "if you meet me at this spot tomorrow."

But he knew Reynard was only playing tricks, so he brought a loaded gun on the sled.

When Reynard came, expecting a free ride, he got a charge of shot in his body instead. The farmer flayed his coat off too, and so he had both Bruin's hide and Reynard's skin.