THE WICKED WOLVERINE
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ing that if he could manage to put on a spurt he would reach the forest of great trees at the bottom of the mountain, where the rock could not come, he gathered up all his strength, and instead of running he leaped over sticks and stones, but, whatever he did, the rock was always close behind him. At length he grew so weary that he could not even see where he was going, and
ALL THE ANIMALS TRY TO GET THE ROCK OFF WOLVERINE'S LEGS
catching his foot in a branch he tripped and fell. The rock stopped at once, but there came a shriek from the wolverine:
'Get off, get off! can't you see that you are on my legs?'
'Why did you not leave me alone?' asked the rock. 'I did not want to move—I hate moving. But you
