"Oh, oh, my Whiteling, cheer up! I'll stand by you to the death. Just you go to friend Quacker, the Drake, and engage his help." With a lighter heart Whiteling sought friend Quacker and begged his friendly aid. "To be sure, to be sure; I am your comrade. Why should I leave a friend in the lurch? Go to friend Ganner, the Gander, and ask him if he feels like having a part in the war." So said and so done. Whiteling found the Gander, explained the affair and begged for his help. "Of course, why should I not be ready to help? Aren't you our guard every night to keep Reinecke from making off with us?" "Now," said Whiteling, "I think we are strong enough." Early next morning Isegrim met his allies upon the battle-field under the appointed tree. He hid the Wild Boar beneath a thick bed of moss which grew upon the ground, and bade Reinecke climb into the tree, saying, "You must be our sentinel, Master. Keep watch when Whiteling appears with his troop, and give us secret intelligence. You, too, Petz, must scramble up the tree, but I will crouch down in ambush behind the trunk." Meanwhile Whiteling was also disposing his forces. "Grimalkin and Ganner, you are the infantry. I see that your weapon is ready, Grimalkin" (for Grimalkin held his tail upright, by way of musket); "and you, Ganner, must hiss your very best. Quacker, you shall be the drummer. I reserve to myself the command. March according to orders, and fall to when I give the word." So Whiteling and his comrades went gayly to the battle--Whiteling and his drummer in front, Grimalkin and Ganner bringing up the rear. Quacker drummed his prettiest--"Quack-quack, quack-quack, quack-quack!" The Gander hissed and the Tomcat strutted along in dignified silence, carrying his tail straight upright like a musket. When Reinecke perceived the approaching company he cried to Isegrim, "Cousin, cousin, here come two soldiers with a drummer and a captain!" "What's that you say?" asked Isegrim in dismay. "I say, here come two soldiers with a drummer and a captain," replied Reinecke. "The soldier is loading his gun, he takes aim, he is about to fire----" "Alas! woe be to us poor fellows," moaned the Wild Boar from under the moss. "It's all over with us! We fight with unequal forces!" "Courage, courage, fellows," cried Isegrim, trying to rally his troops; "just bear yourselves bravely; all is not lost; we'll make short work of them yet!"