The young man drove out the oxen into the meadow, and no sooner had they got there than, like the sheep and the pigs, they began to scamper in all directions, the precious bull being the wildest of all. As the youth stood watching them, not knowing what to do next, it came into his head that his father’s cow was put out to grass at no great distance; and he forthwith made such a noise that he quite frightened the oxen, who were easily persuaded to take the path he wished. When they heard the cow lowing they galloped all the faster, and soon they all arrived at his father’s house. The old man was standing before the door of his hut when the great herd of animals dashed round a corner of the road, with his son and his own cow at their head. “Whose cattle are these, and why are they here?” he asked; and his son told him the story. “Take them back to your master as soon as you can,” said the old man; but the son only laughed, and said: “No, no; they are a present to you! They will make you fat!” For a long while the old man refused to have anything to do with such a wicked scheme; but his son talked him over in the end, and they killed the oxen as they had killed the sheep and the pigs. Last of all they came to the king’s cherished ox. The son had a rope ready to cast round its horns, and throw it to the ground, but the ox was stronger than the rope, and soon tore it in pieces. Then it dashed away to the wood, the youth following; over hedges and ditches they both went, till they reached the rocky pass which bordered the herdsman’s land. Here the ox, thinking itself safe, stopped to rest, and thus gave the young man a chance to come up with it. Not knowing how to catch it, he collected all the wood he could find and made a circle of fire round the ox, who by this time had fallen asleep, and did not wake till the fire had caught its head, and it was too late for it to escape. Then the young man, who had been watching, ran home to his master. “You have been away a long while,” said the herdsman. “Where are the cattle?” The young man gasped, and seemed as if he was unable to speak. At last he answered: “It is always the same story! The oxen are—gone—gone!” “G-g-gone?” cried the herdsman. “Scoundrel, you lie!” “I am telling you the exact truth,” answered the young man. “Directly we came to the meadow they grew so wild that I could not keep them together. Then the big ox broke away, and the others followed till they all disappeared down a deep hole into the earth. It seemed to me that I heard sounds of bellowing, and I thought I recognised the voice of the golden horned ox; but when I got to the place from which the sounds had come, I could neither see nor hear anything in the hole itself, though there were traces of a fire all round it.” “Wretch!” cried the herdsman, when he had heard this story, “even if you did not lie before, you are lying now.” “No, master, I am speaking the truth. Come and see for yourself.”