The Cat - Gray Forehead, the Goat, and the Ram

Once upon a time, in a yard, there lived a goat and a ram. They lived together in harmony: even a tuft of hay they would share in half. But if someone poked them with a pitchfork—well, that was for the cat, Vaska! He was such a thief and a rogue, always on the prowl, and whenever something was left unattended, his belly would ache for it.

So, the goat and the ram were lying there, chatting. Out of nowhere appeared a little purring cat, with a gray forehead, walking and crying so pitifully.
The goat and the ram asked:
"Cat, little cat, gray forehead, why are you crying, hopping on three legs?"
"How can I not cry? The mistress beat me, tore my ears, broke my legs, and even threatened to strangle me."
"And what was your crime that brought you such ruin?"
"My ruin is because I licked up the sour cream!"

And the purring cat began to cry again.
"Cat, little cat, gray forehead, why are you still crying?"
"How can I not cry? The woman beat me and said: 'Our son-in-law is coming, where will we get sour cream? We'll have no choice but to beat the goat and the ram!'"

The goat and the ram bellowed:
"Oh, you gray cat, you witless forehead! Why have you doomed us? We'll gore you!"

Then the purring cat confessed his guilt and begged for forgiveness. The goat and the ram forgave him, and the three of them began to think: what should they do?
"Well, middle brother," the cat asked the ram, "is your forehead strong? Try it against the gate."
The ram got up, ran, and banged his forehead against the gate—the gate shook but didn't open.
"Well, older brother," the cat asked the goat, "is your forehead strong? Try it against the gate."
The goat, a mighty fellow, ran, charged, and hit the gate—it swung open.

Dust rose in a column, grass bent to the ground, and off ran the goat and the ram, with the three-legged cat—gray forehead—hopping behind them.
The cat grew tired and pleaded with his newfound brothers:
"Goat and ram, don't leave your little brother behind..."
The goat picked up the cat, placed him on his back, and they galloped again over hills, valleys, and shifting sands.
They ran for a long time, day and night, until their legs gave out.

Then they came to a steep slope, a resting place. Below the slope was a mown field, and on the field stood haystacks like cities. The goat, the ram, and the cat stopped to rest. It was an autumn night, cold. Where could they get fire? The goat and the ram were thinking, but the gray-foreheaded cat had already gathered some birch bark, wrapped it around the goat's horns, and told him to butt heads with the ram.

The goat and the ram butted heads so hard that sparks flew from their eyes, and the birch bark caught fire. They lit a fire, sat down, and warmed themselves.

Before they could warm up properly, an uninvited guest arrived—a bear:
"Let me warm up and rest, I'm exhausted..."
"Sit with us, Mikhailo Ivanovich! Where are you coming from?"
"I went to the apiary and got into a fight with the peasants."

The four of them settled in for the dark night: the bear under the haystack, the gray-foreheaded cat on top of the haystack, and the goat and ram by the fire.

Suddenly, seven gray wolves appeared, with an eighth—a white one—and they headed straight for the haystack.
The goat and the ram bleated in fear, but the gray-foreheaded cat spoke up:
"Ah, white wolf, prince of wolves! Don't anger our older brother: he's fierce when roused—no one will escape unharmed. Can't you see his beard? That's where his strength lies—with his beard, he slays beasts, and with his horns, he only skins them. Better approach with respect and ask: 'We wish to play, to test our strength against the little brother lying under the haystack.'"

The wolves bowed to the cat, surrounded the bear, and began to provoke him. The bear held out as long as he could—then he struck a wolf with each paw! The wolves panicked, scrambled away, and ran off with their tails between their legs.

Meanwhile, the goat and the ram grabbed the cat and ran into the forest, only to run into the gray wolves again.
The cat quickly climbed to the top of a spruce tree, while the goat and the ram grabbed onto a spruce branch with their front legs and hung there.

The wolves stood under the tree, gnashing their teeth. The gray-foreheaded cat saw things were bad and began throwing spruce cones at the wolves, saying:
"One wolf! Two wolves! Three wolves! Just one wolf per brother. I, the cat, ate two wolves earlier, bones and all, and I'm still full. And you, big brother, went after bears but didn't catch any—take my share too!"

As soon as he said this, the goat slipped and fell right onto a wolf with his horns. The cat kept shouting:
"Hold them, catch them!"
The wolves were so terrified that they ran off without looking back. And so, they escaped.
The gray-foreheaded cat, the goat, and the ram went on their way.

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The Cat - Gray Forehead, the Goat, and the Ram

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