The Billy Goats and the Troll

On this side of the river the grass was finished. Every blade of it had been eaten twice over, and all that was left was dust and prickly weeds. But on the other side, across the water, the meadow was green and tall and moving in the wind.

Your child“There is nothing left here,”

said the smallest goat, looking across.

Your child“And there is everything left there.”

Between the two banks lay one wooden bridge, old and grey and loud. Under the bridge lived a troll. He was shaped like a wet sack of potatoes, and he was twice as grumpy. He had one rule about the bridge, and he said it out loud every time he woke up.

The troll“Nobody crosses,”

said the troll.

The troll“Nobody.”

The smallest goat went first, because the smallest goat had the idea. The little goat was small enough to stand under a big brother’s chin. But those little hooves were loud on old wood, and nothing could be done about that.

Your child“Trip, trap,”

said the little hooves.

Your child“Trip, trap.”

Halfway across, the bridge went quiet, and then something under it woke up.

The troll“WHO is walking on MY bridge?”

roared the troll, in a voice that shook loose two nails.

Your child“Only me,”

said the smallest goat, very quietly.

Your child“I am very small.”

There was hardly any dinner on the little goat at all. A troll who ate such a small goat would still be hungry afterwards, and would have to get up all over again.

The troll thought about this slowly, which was the only way he thought about anything.

Your child“Wait for my brother,”

said the smallest goat, helpfully.

Your child“He is a proper meal!”

A bigger goat, with much more dinner on him, was coming along right behind. And the troll, who did not like getting up twice, lay back down in the mud.

So the middle goat crossed, trip trap, trip trap. When the roaring started, he said just what the smallest goat had said, only slower. He was the kind of goat who is never in a hurry.

Big goats“Wait for my brother,”

said the middle goat.

Big goats“He is enormous.”

The troll gave a long, grumpy grunt and let him pass.

Then the big goat came. He did not trip and he did not trap. He walked slowly and heavily, and the whole bridge groaned under him. The troll came up over the edge with his mouth already open. Then he stopped, because the big goat was looking straight at him.

Big goats“Come up, then,”

said the big goat. The troll went into the river instead.

All three goats ate green grass on the far bank until the sun went down behind the hill and their sides were round and their legs were tired.

Your child“Green,”

said the smallest goat, with a mouth full of grass. Behind them the bridge stood empty and quiet, and it stayed that way, because nothing lived under it any more.