Silver Bridge. The ox again found his
master weeping, soothed him as he had done before, and went to fight
the second bull and hurl him under the bridge.

After several days a third bull appeared, a feeble, unsightly, ugly,
dirty animal, and said to the boy: "Who gave you leave to come here
with your Tellerchen to drink my water and spoil the grass in my
meadows?"

"What business is it of yours?" replied the youth pertly.

"If it isn't my business, whose affair should it be?" replied the
bull. "Whichever of you two will dare to fight with me may come
to-morrow to the Copper Bridge."

"Don't worry," replied the youth carelessly, "we will come."

When Tellerchen returned from the pasture in the evening, his master,
with great amusement, told him every thing that had happened.

"Your mirth is out of place," replied the ox, "for my time has now
come. The bull, sick and emaciated as he was, will overpower me. Watch
our battle to-morrow, for I will not let you fight with him; you are
young and delicate, and still have a great deal to see in the world.
When you perceive that he is conquering me and about to push me under
the bridge, rush forward and seize my left horn, but don't open it
till you have reached home."

When the youth heard this, he began to weep so that he could not be
quieted, and grieved so much all night long that he had no sleep.

Early the next morning he went with Tellerchen to the Copper Bridge,
where the puny-looking bull awaited them. They began the struggle, and
fought and fought until toward the afternoon. Sometimes the ox gored
the bull, at others the bull the ox, and the victory still remained
undecided. But when the afternoon was nearly over the ox's strength
failed, and, while the bull was carrying him off and in the very act
of hurling him under the bridge, the boy rushed up and wrenched off
his left horn.

He wept,--Heaven knows how bitterly the poor lad wept by the bridge.
But seeing that his Tellerchen did not come out again from under the
bridge and it was growing dark, he set off with his horn, and a heart
bleeding with grief. He spent the night on a hill. The next day hunger
vexed him, and thinking he should find something to eat in the horn
Tellerchen had left him, he opened it.

What, I beg to ask you, do you suppose happened then! Whence came the
countless multitude of all sorts of cattle? How could he drive them
home? and to get them back into the horn again was impossible. H