Deep between the hills runs a canyon, and down through it a fast river goes rushing — splash, splash! There's only one way across: a single narrow tree-trunk laid over the gap. And it's so narrow that two can never cross at the same time.
From one side, up onto the trunk climbed Three-Horns. And just then, from the other side, up came Spike-Crown. Thud… thud… step by careful step… until, right in the middle of the bridge, the two came face to face.
"Move aside!" said Three-Horns. "I stepped on first, so I cross first." "Oh, is that so? YOU back up. I don't step aside for anybody!" And neither of them budged so much as an inch.
Far below, the river growled and rumbled — but neither one had an ear to spare for it. "I will not back up!" roared Three-Horns. "And neither will I!" roared Spike-Crown. Down went both their heads, horns swung level — two stubborn beasts, and neither would give a hair.
And then — CLASH! Horn slammed against horn — crack! "Still won't move, will you?!" The whole bridge swayed, and the trunk shuddered and groaned beneath their feet. But neither one would stop!
And that was when it happened — both their feet slipped at once! Splash! SPLASH! The two stubborn dinosaurs went tumbling into the cold river. Splashing and spluttering, they barely paddled to the bank — soaked, muddy, and shivering all over.
Soaked to the bone, the two hauled themselves up — but neither would look at the other. Drip… drip… the cold water streamed off them. All was quiet now — just the soft hush of the water.
Then, slowly, the two of them looked up at each other — and burst out laughing! "If just one of us had waited half a moment, we'd both be dry right now!" said Three-Horns. Spike-Crown nodded. "You go on first, brother. I'll wait right here."