A few days later Isegrim paid the swine a second visit, but he had hardly crept into the pen when Whiteling set up a howl so loud and clear that all the household sprang out of bed to see what was the matter. A second time they found the Wolf, fell upon him, and beat him half-dead. The unlucky visitor barely escaped with his life, and full of wrath, he hid behind the hedge and waited till the household were asleep. Then, seeing Whiteling before the house-door, he cried to him, "Just wait once, Whiteling; your last half-hour strikes when you fall into my clutches! If you weren't just where you are, safe at the house-door, I'd soon pay you off; but my time will come before long." Again Whiteling began to beg. "Dearest Isegrim, it is indeed true that I have brought you into a terrible pickle, but don't kill me; let me go this time. I'll never do it again." But the Wolf replied, "Neither now nor ever; you cheated me out of that meal of swine's flesh, and three days from now you must meet me in battle. I will summon my forces, and do you summon yours--that is, if you can muster any. If you don't show up, I'll soon know where to find you, and I'll drag you there myself!" "All right," returned Whiteling, "come what may, I'll be there without fail." So Isegrim hastened away to get his troops together, and meeting the Wild Boar he said to him, "Will you be on my side? There is going to be war between me and Whiteling three days from now." "Oh," replied the Wild Boar, "indeed I will be on your side!" A little farther Isegrim met Master Petz, the Bear, told him the whole matter, and begged him to be on his side. Petz most cheerfully promised his help. Later, he met Reinecke, the Fox, and told him the whole story. Reinecke assured him that he might certainly count upon his help--how could he ever hesitate to stand by his old crony against the common enemy? Then said Isegrim, "Now we are quite enough; but I must spy out Whiteling and learn what forces he has. Then I will let you know that we are all ready for war." Isegrim betook himself to Whiteling's house, and standing in the lane looked over the hedge. "Are you ready, Whiteling?" he asked. "To-morrow is the day." "I shall be ready," replied Whiteling in a tone of deepest dejection; "but tell me precisely, where is the battle to be?" "You know very well," replied Isegrim; "yonder, under the tree we agreed upon." "Very well," said the Dog, and slunk sorrowfully away to the other side of the farm-yard. There the Tomcat met him and said, "Why, my dear Whiteling, what can be the matter, what makes you so sad?" And Whiteling answered, "My dear Grimalkin, you don't know where the shoe pinches. Will you come to my aid?" "Why, what are you talking about?" asked the surprised Cat. "Just think of it," replied the Dog, "to-morrow I have to fight Isegrim; we have declared war to the knife."