The Cat That Walked by Himself

Listen, O my Best Beloved, for this happened very long ago, when all the animals were still wild. The Dog was wild, the Horse was wild, the Cow was wild. And the Man was wild too, until he met the Woman. But the wildest of all was the Cat. He walked by himself, and all places were alike to him.

The Woman did not want to live out in the open. She found a dry cave, spread fresh sand on the floor and lit a fire near the entrance. She hung a wild horse’s skin over the doorway, tail down. Then she said to the Man:

"Wipe your feet, dear, when you come in. Now we have a home."

That evening they roasted mutton on the fire, and the smell, oh, what a smell! drifted out into the Wet Wild Woods.

The Wild Dog was the first to catch it.

"I’ll go and see what smells so good," he said.

"I’ll come too," said the Cat. "But I walk by myself, and all places are alike to me."

"Then we are not going the same way," grumbled the Dog, and he trotted off to the cave.

And the Cat followed quietly, paw by paw, and hid where he could see and hear everything.

The Dog poked his nose under the skin and sniffed.

"What is it that smells so good?" he asked.

The Woman laughed, picked up a roasted bone and tossed it to him. Gulp! and the bone was gone.

"More!" begged the Dog. "Oh please, just one more!"

"I’ll give you as many as you like," said the Woman. "But by day you must go hunting with the Man, and by night you must guard our cave."

"Well, well," whispered the Cat from his hiding place. "That Dog is clever. But not as clever as I am."

And the Dog was already lying by the fire with his head on the Woman’s feet.

"You shall be our First Friend," said the Woman.

The Cat snorted and went off into the Wet Wild Woods with his tail held high. He walked by himself.

The next night the Wild Horse came, because he missed the Dog. The Woman showed him an armful of fresh grass, and the Horse put his own head into the bridle.

"I will serve you for this wonderful grass," he said.

"You shall be our First Servant," said the Woman. "You will carry us wherever we need to go."

"Oh, how silly they are," whispered the Cat from behind a rock. "And I walk by myself."

On the third night the Wild Cow came. The Woman gave her sweet-smelling hay, and the Cow promised to give milk every day.

"You shall be our Giver of Milk," said the Woman.

The Cat saw it all. And when morning came, he walked up to the cave himself.

"Where is the Dog?" he asked. "Where is the Horse? Where is the Cow?"

The Woman laughed.

"Go back to the woods, Wild Cat. You walk by yourself, after all. We already have a friend, we already have a servant, and as for a giver of milk, even more so."

"I am not a friend and I am not a servant," said the Cat. "I am the Cat who walks by himself. But I want to come into your cave."

"Then why didn’t you come on the first night with the Dog?"

The Cat grew angry.

"I suppose the Dog has been telling you something bad about me?"

"You walk by yourself," said the Woman, "and all places are alike to you. So go on, walk."

Then the Cat pretended to be humble.

"Let me never be a friend and never be a servant. But if you ever praise me, even once, may I come into the cave?"

"You may," said the Woman.

"And if you praise me a second time, may I sit by the fire?"

"You may."

"And if you praise me a third time, may I drink the milk? Three times a day, for always and always?"

"You may," said the Woman, and she smiled. "Because I will never praise you."

And so they agreed. The Cat went off into the woods, and the Woman thought how very clever she was.

For a long time nobody heard anything of the Cat. Only the Bat, who hung upside down from the ceiling of the cave, knew where the Cat was hiding. Every evening he flew to him and told him the news.

One evening the Bat said:

"There is a Baby in the cave now. He is pink and round and small. The Woman loves him very much."

"Aha," said the Cat, pricking up his ears. "And what does the Baby himself love?"

"Everything soft and tickly," said the Bat. "And being sung to."

"Aha," said the Cat. "Then my time has come."

The next morning the Woman was spinning, and the Baby cried and cried, because the Woman had no time to play with him. The Cat came quietly, paw by paw, and stroked the Baby’s cheek with a soft paw. Then he tickled his foot with his fluffy tail. The Baby stopped crying and laughed.

"Oh, whoever that is," said the Woman, without lifting her eyes from her spindle, "thank you! I was so busy, and he helped."

But at that very moment, swish! the wild horse’s skin that hung tail down over the doorway fell. For the Woman remembered the bargain, and so did the skin. When the Woman raised her head, the Cat was already sitting in the cave, with his tail tucked comfortably around him.

"O Woman," said the Cat, "it is I. You have praised me. Now I sit in the cave. But I am still the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me."

The Woman was angry. She pressed her lips together and silently went back to her spinning.

But the Baby began to cry again, because the Cat had gone away. The Woman could not calm him at all.

"Take a thread," the Cat advised, "tie your spindle to it and drag it across the floor. I will show you what happens."

The Woman did so. The Cat dashed after the spindle: he caught it with his paws, tumbled over, tossed it into the air, lost it and chased it again. The Baby laughed until he got the hiccups. Then he crawled after the Cat, played and played, and at last grew tired. Then the Cat lay down beside him and sang his little song: purr, purr, purr, soft and low. And the Baby dozed off.

"Oh, how clever you are, Cat!" slipped out of the Woman.

At that very moment, puff! smoke from the hearth rose to the ceiling in a ball, because the fire remembered the bargain. When the smoke cleared, the Cat was already sitting by the fire, warming his paws.

"O Woman," said the Cat, "it is I. You have praised me a second time. Now I sit by the warm fire. But I am still the Cat who walks by himself."

The Woman grew even angrier. She sat down in a corner and promised herself that she would never, for anything in the world, praise the Cat a third time.

But the cave grew so quiet that a little Mouse ran out of her hole. Scurry, scurry, scurry across the floor!

"Eek!" cried the Woman, and she jumped onto a stool. "A Mouse! Oh dear, oh dear!"

"Can’t you be helped?" asked the Cat.

"Help me, please, quickly!"

The Cat pounced, hop! and caught the Mouse.

"Oh, thank you so much!" said the Woman. "Even the First Friend could not have done it so neatly."

At that very moment, crack! the jug of milk that stood by the fire split, because the jug remembered the bargain too. And the Cat was already sitting beside it, lapping up the milk.

"O Woman," said the Cat, "it is I. You have praised me a third time. Now I shall drink milk three times a day, for always and always. But I am still the Cat who walks by himself."

Then the Woman laughed, filled a bowl to the brim with milk and said:

"You are as clever as a Man, Cat. But remember: you made your bargain with me, not with the Man and not with the Dog. What they will say, I do not know."

"What is that to me?" said the Cat. "I have my place by the fire and my milk three times a day. Let them say what they like."

In the evening the Man and the Dog came home. The Woman told them everything, and the Cat sat by the fire and smiled.

"Very well," said the Man, and he frowned. "But you made no bargain with me. Catch mice, and we shall live in peace. Don’t, and beware."

"I will catch them," said the Cat. "But I am still the Cat who walks by himself."

"You made no bargain with me either," growled the Dog. "Be gentle with the Baby, and all is well. If not, I’ll show you!"

"I will be gentle," said the Cat. "But I am still the Cat who walks by himself."

And so they never quite came to an agreement. The Man never gave his word. And the Dog never gave his either.

Ever since then, O my Best Beloved, the Cat catches mice and is gentle with little ones, as long as they don’t pull his tail. And ever since then the Dog barks the moment he sees the Cat, just in case.

But when the moon rises and night comes, the Cat gets up from his warm place by the fire. He goes out to the Wet Wild Woods, to the wet wild trees, to the wet wild roofs, and waves his wild tail. He walks by himself, and all places are alike to him.

And where he goes every night, and why he always comes back to the fire, he tells nobody at all.