He had not gone far upon his journey when in
passing through a great forest called Bramble-wood, Lusty-life slipped
down and broke his foreleg. At sight of this disaster Well-to-do fell
a-thinking, and repeated--
'Men their cunning schemes may spin--
God knows who shall lose or win.'
Comforting himself with such philosophy, Well-to-do left Lusty-life
there, and went on his way. The Bull watched him depart, and stood
mournfully on three legs, alone in the forest. 'Well, well,' he thought,
'it is all destiny whether I live or die:--
'Shoot a hundred shafts, the quarry lives and flies--not due to death;
When his hour is come, a grass-blade hath a point to stop his breath.'
As the days passed by, and Lusty-life picked about in the tender forest
grass, he grew wonderfully well, and fat of carcase, and happy, and
bellowed about the wood as though it were his own. Now, the reigning
monarch of the forest was King Tawny-hide the Lion, who ruled over the
whole country absolutely, by right of having deposed everybody else. Is
not might right?--
'Robes were none, nor oil of unction, when the King of Beasts was
crowned:--
'Twas his own fierce roar proclaimed him, rolling all his kingdom
round.
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