"Please, please, Uncle Wolf, don't do that," replied the Sheep. "Please don't eat us now; but if you will wait till the autumn, when we shall both be very much fatter than we are now, you can eat us with much more benefit to yourself on our return journey."
The Wolf thought this was a good idea.
"Very well, Aunty Sheep," said he, "that is a bargain. I will spare your lives now, but only on condition that you meet me at this very spot on your return journey from the north in the autumn."
So saying, he galloped off, and the Sheep and the Lamb continued on their way towards the north, and soon forgot all about their encounter with the Wolf.
All the summer they grazed about on the succulent grass of the great plateau, and when autumn was approaching both were as fat as fat could be, and the little Lamb had grown into a fine young Sheep.
When the time came for returning to the south, the Sheep remembered her bargain with the Wolf, and every day as they drew farther and farther south she grew more and more downhearted.
One day, as they were approaching the place where they had met the Wolf, it chanced that a Hare came hopping along the road towards them. The Hare stopped to say good-morning to the Sheep, and noticing that she was looking very sad, he said:
"Good-morning, Sister Sheep, how is it that you, who are so fat and have so fine a Lamb, are looking so sad this morning?"
