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In a honey-stone bakery at the edge of the
fields, Baker Bea rolled a small piece of
spicy dough.

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She shaped a round head, two arms and two
quick-looking legs.

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Then came three white icing buttons, blue
icing cuffs, a curved red smile and two
currant eyes.

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'There,' Bea said, sliding the tray
towards the warm copper oven.

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'You look ready for an adventure.'

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When Bea opened the oven, the little
biscuit sat up.

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He stretched his icing-trimmed arms,
hopped onto the table, and sprang to the
floor.

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'Run, run, as quick as you can.

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You can't catch me—I'm the Gingerbread
Man!'

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he called.

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Before Bea could answer, he skipped
through the green door, leaving a warm
ribbon of cinnamon scent curling through
the bakery.

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Baker Bea followed, laughing in surprise.

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Pip, the flour-dusted farm dog, bounded
from beneath a bench and joined her.

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Neither was angry; they simply wanted the
small runaway safe.

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The Gingerbread Man glanced over his
shoulder and ran faster along the dusty
path.

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His short legs flickered like two brown
wheels, while his three buttons bobbed but
stayed firmly in place.

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Beside the red barn, a calm brown cow
raised her head from the clover.

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'Good morning,' she mooed.

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'Where are you rushing?'

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The Gingerbread Man swept past her hooves.

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'Run, run, as quick as you can.

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You can't catch me—I'm the Gingerbread
Man!'

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Cow joined the line at an easy trot.

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'Quick is useful,' she said, 'but looking
ahead is useful too.'

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At the duck pond, a white goose stepped
away from the reeds to let him pass.

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Gingerbread Man gave a cheerful wave and
hurried on, certain that nothing could
slow him.

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Goose noticed dark clouds gathering over
the hills upstream.

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'The river may be rising,' she honked.

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But he was already beyond the pond,
admiring how far behind everyone seemed.

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The path ended at a broad blue river.

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Gingerbread Man stopped so suddenly that
dust puffed around his feet.

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He could not swim, and soggy gingerbread
would crumble.

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Soon Bea, Pip, Cow and Goose caught up,
breathing hard.

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Nobody reached for him.

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Together they studied the quick water,
where six flat stepping stones showed
above the ripples, almost—but not
quite—forming a path.

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A red fox appeared between the willows.

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'Climb onto my tail,' he offered.

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'Then my back.

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Then my nose will keep you driest.'

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With every suggestion, the fox's amber
eyes slid closer to his mouth.

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Gingerbread Man finally slowed his
thoughts as well as his feet.

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'No, thank you,' he said.

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Beyond the fox, he spotted one last stone
hidden beneath an overhanging fern.

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Bea pointed to each stone, Cow called the
rhythm, Goose watched the water, and Pip
waited on the far bank.

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Step by careful step, Gingerbread Man
crossed without one soggy crumb.

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'I am sorry I made everyone chase me,' he
said.

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Back at the bakery, Bea built him a tiny
gingerbread house.

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He still loved running—but now he always
knew where home was.