The weary tailor required no
rocking to rest, but slept sound till early morning, when he was
roused from his slumbers by a tremendous noise. Loud screams and
shouts pierced the thin walls of the little hut. The tailor, with
new-born courage, sprang up, threw on his clothes with all speed
and hurried out. There he saw a huge black bull engaged in a
terrible fight with a fine large stag. They rushed at each other
with such fury that the ground seemed to tremble under them and
the whole air to be filled with their cries. For some time it
appeared quite uncertain which would be the victor, but at length
the stag drove his antlers with such force into his opponent's
body that the bull fell to the ground with a terrific roar, and a
few more strokes finished him.
The tailor, who had been watching the fight with amazement, was
still standing motionless when the stag bounded up to him, and
before he had time to escape forked him up with its great antlers,
and set off at full gallop over hedges and ditches, hill and dale,
through wood and water. The tailor could do nothing but hold on
tight with both hands to the stag's horns and resign himself to
his fate. He felt as if he were flying along. At length the stag
paused before a steep rock and gently let the tailor down to the
ground.
Feeling more dead than alive, he paused for a while to collect his
scattered senses, but when he seemed somewhat restored the stag
struck such a blow on a door in the rock that it flew open.
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