The dogs decided to tell the old man the horse had run away out of hunger.
They made a feast of the horse. They ate skin and hair and meat, and when there were only bones, they buried the bones behind the bilberry bush near the barn. The dogs licked their sated lips and trotted into the master's house.
"The horse has run away." said the one dog.
"Yes," said the other dog, "It was angry from hunger. It told me it was looking for a home with better food."
The old man scowled and paced. He rubbed his hand against his temple, and then against his stomach, and then he rubbed his hands together, and he stopped pacing.
"Well, now, that horse was twice the size of you two put together. If he did not have enough food, then there is no way I can have enough food for both you dogs." The man slapped his hand against the wall. "I will chop one of you dogs up to feed the other, and there will be enough food to keep you for the winter.
The dogs growled at one another.
"You should be the one to be chopped up. I am the better dog," said the one dog.
"No, you are wrong. And I will eat you," said the other.
The dogs attacked each other. They bit and scratched and wrestled in the dirt before the old man's house. The dirt was wetted by the blood of both dogs. The ground became muddy, a vermillion, sticky mess, and soon the dogs tired.
"We are mortally wounded, old man. We shall both die? Why have you done this to us?" asked the dogs.
"I have done nothing but provide you food," said the old man, "You have made all the decisions and all the actions. And all because you had specific tastes. You live by your own hands, and you die by your own hands."
The old man turned to walk inside. He did not make graves for either dog, but returned to his house for a meal.
THE END.
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