The Terrapin proposed to the Wolf a race, and he scornfully accepted. The race was to begin at the top of one hill and to extend to a fourth hill. That night the Terrapin summoned all his kinsfolk to help him and they were to take their stations all along the route, each to wear a white feather on his head.
The time came, the word was given, and when the Wolf reached the top of the second hill he saw a Terrapin ahead of him running down the hill, the white feather waving in the grass. He soon passed him, but, on reaching the third hill, there was the Terrapin still crawling ahead. He ran himself out of breath, but, on reaching the last hilltop, to his mortification there sat a Terrapin, at the stake, his plume waving in triumph.