As the Goose Flies
Copyright© 2025 by Katharine Pyle
Chapter 6: The Great Gray Wolf
On and on went Ellen and the gander, following the pointing of the leaves, and all the while the forest kept growing deeper and greener and lonelier.
There were no flowers now as there had been at first, but here and there on the trees or ground grew wonderful fungi. Some were yellow as gold, some were red as blood, and still others were streaked and spotted as beautifully as sea-shells. The only flowers to be seen were the wax-white “Indian-pipes” and there were whole clumps of them.
Ellen had just stooped to pick some, when suddenly the gander hissed, and at the same moment a harsh voice spoke so close to her ear that it made her start, “Good morning!”
Ellen glanced around, and there, standing close to her, was an enormous gray wolf, ragged and scarred. The sound of his paws had been so muffled by the moss that she had not heard him coming.
“Good morning,” answered Ellen, her heart beating a little faster at sight of him.
“Where are you going this pleasant day?” asked the wolf.
“I am on my way to the Queerbodies’ house.”
“The Queerbodies! I never heard of them. Are they good to eat?” said the wolf. Then he added hastily, “No, no; I don’t mean that. I meant are they pleasant, merry people?”
“I don’t know,” answered Ellen. “I’ve never seen them, and I’m not sure whether I can find them at all. But if I mean to get to their house to-day I think I’d better be going; so good-bye,” and she began to walk on, for she did not like to be there in that lonely spot with a great gray wolf for company.
The wolf, however, trotted along beside her. “Not good-bye,” he said, “for I have nothing to do just now, so I’ll just go with you part of the way for the sake of the walk and the company.”
Ellen said nothing, but quickened her steps, while the gander and the gray wolf kept up with her, the one on one side, the other on the other.
Presently the wolf began again. “Now about those Queerbodies, it’s curious I never heard of them, for I thought I knew everybody hereabouts: the dwarfs, and Little Red Riding Hood, and the three bears, and—” he hesitated for a moment, and then added with a gulp, “and the woodsmen; but no Queerbodies that I ever heard tell of.”
“Who lives there?” asked Ellen, pointing to a little house she had just caught sight of in a dank and lonely glade. It had occurred to her that she might stop there for a glass of water and so rid herself of the wolf’s company.
The wolf grinned, as though he guessed her thought. “Nobody lives there now. Queer looking house isn’t it?”
Ellen thought it was indeed a queer looking house. “Why, what is it made of?” she asked.
“Bread and cake and barley sugar. But wouldn’t you like to see it closer? You might eat some of it, too, if you like, for no one ever visits it now except the wind and rain.”
Ellen walked over toward the house, while the wolf stopped a moment to bite out a burr that had stuck between his toes. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” he called after her.
“Mistress,” said the gander stretching up its neck to whisper in Ellen’s ear, “that old Gray-coat means no good to us.”
“He frightens me,” Ellen whispered back, “but what can I do?”
“He isn’t looking now. Let’s slip inside the house and lock the door.”
Ellen glanced back over her shoulder. The wolf was still busy over the burr, but it was some distance to the house. “Do you think we can get there before him?” she asked.
“We can but try.”
“Come, then,” and Ellen began to run toward the house; while the gander ran beside her, helping himself along with his wings.
At the noise they made, the wolf looked up, and then with a howl of rage came tearing after them with long swift bounds. By the time Ellen and the gander were on the threshold of the house he was at the foot of the steps, but, turning, the little girl slammed the door and shot the bolt into place.
With a howl of rage, the wolf flung himself against it so that it shook again, and Ellen and the gander trembled as they stood within; but the good door held, the bolt was true, and the wolf might do his worst; they were safe from him for the time at least.
Finding that he could do nothing, old Gray-coat sat down panting, his fierce eyes fixed upon the house. “Wait a bit,” he muttered to himself. “You have escaped me this time, but I have as much time to spend as you, and how will it be when you have to come out again?”
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