Muncle Trogg and the Flying Donkey

‘Don’t drop me, Gritt!’ shrieked Muncle, bouncing on his younger brother’s huge shoulders.
‘Sorry,’ puffed Gritt, ‘but Pa’s at the Smalling farm already. I don’t want to miss seeing him catch an ox.
It’ll be so exciting!’
Muncle clung to Gritt’s hair as he charged down the mountain, scattering sheep.
It was their first hunting trip. Until the Great Smalling Battle – the first one for centuries – only hunters like Pa were allowed out of Mount Grumble, and they had to creep out at night. But now that they’d made the Smallings run away, King Thortless the Thirteenth had said everyone could go out whenever they liked, even in broad daylight.
Pa was waiting for them at the bottom of Mount Grumble, next to the Smalling fields. On the other side of a thin metal fence were some sleepy-looking black and-white animals. They watched the three giants curiously. The fields were covered with dark-brown puddles.