Every foot of soil was turned by the plow or by the spade. It was next harrowed and raked, but no treasure was found. That seemed very strange.
“Father was an honest man and a wise man,” said the youngest son. “He would never have told us to hunt for the treasure if it were not here. Do you not remember that he said, ’Turn the soil again and again’? He surely thought the treasure worth hunting for.”
“Our land is in such good condition now that we might as well sow winter wheat,” said the oldest son. His brothers agreed to this and the wheat was sown.
The next harvest was so great that it surprised them. No neighbor’s field bore so many bushels of wheat to the acre. The sons were pleased with their success.
After the wheat was harvested, they met to make plans for searching again for the hidden treasure. The second son said:
“I have been thinking ever since our big harvest that perhaps father knew how this search would turn out. We have much gold, We did not find it in a hole in the ground, but we found it by digging. If we had not cultivated our fields well, we should not have had such a crop of wheat. Our father was wise; we have dug for the treasure and have found it.
“We will cultivate the ground still better next year and make the soil rich; then we shall find more treasure.”
The other sons agreed to this. “It is good to work for what we get,” they said.
Year after year the farm was well tilled and bore good crops. The sons became rich, and they had two things much better than wealth —good health and happiness.
“You may hunt with me now, Reynard,” said a wise old fox to his young son. “It is time that you were beginning to make your living.”
“That pleases me well,” said Reynard. “I should not mind going out alone.”
“You are not ready yet to go by yourself. There are many things that I must teach you first. Do not go without me.”
Reynard said nothing, but the next day, when his father was asleep, he went out into the field and brought home a nice, fat partridge.
He wakened his father by a quick bark and said, “See what I have caught. I do not need to go with you.”
“You do not know what you need,” replied his father. “No wise fox hunts in the daytime.”
But Reynard did not mind what his father said, and every day he went out hunting. He killed so many chickens, turkeys and ducks that everyone tried to catch him.
One night the old fox started out alone, but Reynard crept slowly after him. The old fox went toward a large farmhouse. He stopped suddenly in the path and waited; then he ran on quickly.
Reynard followed. He stopped at the same place where the old fox had stopped.
“What is this?” he said. “A fine white turkey down in the grass! Well, well, is my father losing his sharp sight and his keen scent? I shall not let such a prize get away from me!”