The Three Billy Goats Gruff

Tonight’s story comes from Norway, a country in the far north of Europe. It has tall mountains and roaring waterfalls, and in summer the hillsides are thick with fresh grass. Long ago, Norwegians said that under bridges and in rocky caves there lived mountain creatures called trolls.

Once upon a time there were three billy goats, and all three were called Gruff. A little one, a middle one, and a big one.

The three goats wanted to go up the hillside to eat grass and get fat. But on the way up there was a rushing waterfall, and to get across it they had to go over a wooden bridge.

Under the bridge lived a great ugly troll. His eyes were as big and round as saucers, and his nose was as long as a poker.

The littlest Billy Goat Gruff crossed the bridge first. Trip, trap, trip, trap, went the bridge.

“Who’s that tripping over my bridge?” roared the troll.

“Oh, it’s only me, the tiniest Billy Goat Gruff. I’m going up the hill to get fat,” said the goat in a very small voice.

“I’m coming to gobble you up!”

“Oh no, please don’t eat me! I’m much too little. Wait a bit, and the second Billy Goat Gruff will come along. He’s much bigger than me.”

“Off with you, then,” said the troll.

A little later the second Billy Goat Gruff came to cross the bridge. Trip, trap, trip, trap, trip, trap, went the bridge.

“Who’s that tripping over my bridge?” roared the troll.

“It’s me, the second Billy Goat Gruff. I’m going up the hill to get fat,” said the goat. His voice wasn’t quite so small.

“I’m coming to gobble you up!”

“Oh no, don’t eat me. Wait a bit, and the big Billy Goat Gruff will come along. He’s much, much bigger than me.”

“Off with you, then,” said the troll.

Then along came the big Billy Goat Gruff. TRIP, TRAP, TRIP, TRAP! went the bridge, creaking and groaning under him, because he was so heavy.

“Who’s that tramping over my bridge?” roared the troll.

“IT’S ME! THE BIG BILLY GOAT GRUFF!” said the goat, in a deep, rough voice that echoed over the waterfall.

“I’m coming to gobble you up!”

“Come on, then! I’ve got two sharp horns, and four hard hooves!”

The troll climbed up onto the bridge. The big Billy Goat Gruff lowered his head and charged straight at him. He butted him so hard that the troll flew off the bridge and splashed down into the waterfall. The water swept him far away, and nobody ever saw him come back.

The big Billy Goat Gruff walked on over the bridge and up the hillside to join his brothers.

Up there the three goats ate grass and ate grass and ate grass, until they were so fat they could hardly walk home again. And if the fat hasn’t worn off them yet, then they must still be very fat indeed.

Snip, snap, snout, this tale’s told out.