The hen, which by some accident had heard nothing of the whole matter, was astonished at the great assemblage. “What, what, what is going to be done?” she cackled. But the cock calmed his beloved hen, and said, “Only rich people,” and told her what they had on hand. It was decided, however, that the one who could fly the highest should be King. A tree-frog which was sitting among the bushes, when he heard that, cried a warning, “No, no, no! no!” because he thought that many tears would be shed because of this. But the crow said, “Caw, caw,” and that all would pass off peaceably. It was now determined that, on this fine morning, they should at once begin to ascend, so that hereafter no one should be able to say, “I could easily have flown much higher, but the evening came on, and I could do no more.” On a given signal, therefore, the whole troop rose up in the air. The dust ascended from the land, and there was tremendous fluttering and whirring and beating of wings. It looked as if a black cloud was rising up. The little birds were, however, soon left behind. They could go no farther, and fell back to the ground. The larger birds held out longer, but none could equal the eagle, who mounted so high that he could have picked the eyes out of the sun. And when he saw that the others could not get up to him, he thought, “Why should I fly any higher, I am the King?” and began to let himself down again. The birds beneath him at once cried to him, “You must be our King, no one has flown so high as you.” “Except me,” screamed the little fellow without a name, who had crept into the breast-feathers of the eagle. And as he was not at all tired, he rose up and mounted so high that he reached heaven itself. When, however, he had gone as far as this, he folded his wings together, and called down with clear and penetrating voice: “_I am King! I am King!_” “You, our King?” cried the birds angrily. “You have done this by trick and cunning!” So they made another condition. He should be King who could go down lowest in the ground. How the goose did flap about with its broad breast when it was once more on the land! How quickly the cock scratched a hole! The duck came off the worst of all, for she leapt into a ditch, but sprained her legs, and waddled away to a neighboring pond, crying, “Cheating, cheating!” The little bird without a name, however, sought out a mouse-hole, slipped down into it, and cried out of it, with his small voice: “_I am King! I am King!_” “You our King!” cried the birds still more angrily. “Do you think your cunning shall prevail?” They determined to keep him a prisoner in the hole and starve him out. The owl was placed as sentinel in front of it, and was not to let the rascal out if she had any value for her life. When evening was come all the birds were feeling very tired after exerting their wings so much that they went to bed with their wives and children.