In a sunny meadow near the woods, there lived a goat named Hrytsko. He had a red coat, a long beard, and sharp horns. Every morning, he went to the stream for a drink of fresh water.
On the other side of the stream, in a garden behind a fence, lived a lamb named Ostap. He was white and fluffy, with bright, happy eyes. He also loved to drink from the stream — the coldest, freshest water.
A narrow bridge crossed the stream. It was so tiny that only one animal could cross at a time. Two? No way.
One morning, Hrytsko stepped onto the bridge from one side. And Ostap stepped on from the other. They met in the middle.
"Move over!" cried Hrytsko. "I always go first!"
"Oh no!" bleated Ostap. "I'm already on the bridge — I'm going through!"
"No, me!"
"No, me!"
They stood there, pushing with their horns and stomping their hooves. The bridge wobbled. Neither would give way.
Finally, both turned around and went home. Grumpy and cross. From that day on, Hrytsko went to the stream in the evening, and Ostap in the morning. They didn't want to meet.
But there was trouble. The summer turned hot. The stream shrank. In the morning, the water was cold and sweet. In the evening, it was warm and not so nice.
Hrytsko felt sad. He really wanted to drink that fresh morning water again. But then he'd have to see Ostap.
And Ostap felt sad too. He wanted to go out in the cool evening, not sit in the garden. But then he'd have to see Hrytsko.
One evening, Hrytsko came to the stream earlier than usual. And there was Ostap, sitting on the bank.
"I'm sorry," said Hrytsko softly. "I could have stepped back that day."
"I'm sorry too," said Ostap. "The bridge isn't mine, after all."
They were quiet for a moment.
"What if," said Hrytsko, "we make a plan? One day you go first in the morning, the next day I do?"
"Or even simpler!" Ostap cheered. "One of us calls out before stepping on the bridge. The other hears and waits a bit!"
Hrytsko smiled. Ostap smiled too.
After that, they always called to each other before the bridge. Sometimes they even met on the bank and watched the clouds float in the water together.
And the bridge never wobbled from arguments again — only from the gentle steps of goat and lamb hooves crossing the stream.