The Little Fox and the Pushy Wolf

Once upon a time there lived a little fox in a small house at the edge of the forest. When the frosts came, the house grew so cold that her ears were freezing. So the little fox ran to the village to fetch a spark of fire.

She slipped into a granny’s cottage, where the stove was humming and the whole house smelled of poppy-seed pies baking.

"Granny, may I warm up a little?"

"Warm up, little fox," said the granny, and off she went to the well for water.

And the little fox snatched the rosiest pie. She ate out the poppy seeds, stuffed some rubbish inside, and whisked out the door.

On she ran, and there were the shepherd boys driving their herd.

"Boys, swap me your little calf, Thirdling, for a poppy-seed pie! Only don’t eat it now. Wait until you’re past the village."

The shepherd boys agreed. By the time they had walked past the village, the fox’s red tail had already flashed over the hill.

The little fox built a sleigh, harnessed the calf and rode merrily along. Then who should come toward her but the pushy wolf:

"Give me a ride too, Sister Fox!"

"You, Wolf? You’ll break my sleigh!"

"Just one paw, that’s all..."

The wolf put in one paw. Off they went, and then the sleigh went crack!

"What’s that cracking, Wolf?"

"I’m just cracking a nut."

"Sister Fox, let me put in the other paw!"

"But you’ll break it!"

"Just one more paw..."

He put in the second one, crack! The third, crack! "I’m just cracking a nut," said the wolf. And then he jumped in with all of himself, crack-smash! and the sleigh fell apart into splinters.

"Oh, you pushy wolf!" said the fox angrily. "Now run to the forest for firewood, and we’ll build a new sleigh. And say as you chop: 'Chop, tree, both straight and crooked!'"

Off ran the wolf to the forest, but he mixed up the words:

"Chop, tree, crooked and crooked!"

He dragged back an armful of nothing but crooked sticks. The fox took one look: they were good for nothing. She waved her paw and went for the wood herself.

The wolf stayed behind with the calf. He sat there, licking his lips, his tummy rumbling... What happened next, nobody saw. Only the wolf ate the calf, stuffed its hide with sparrows, plugged it with straw, and ran off into the forest.

The fox came back, built a new sleigh, sat down and called:

"Giddy-up, little calf, Thirdling!"

The calf stood still and didn’t budge. The fox flicked him with a twig, and out of him went whirr! whirr! sparrows in every direction!

"Just you wait, Wolf!" said the fox, narrowing her little eyes.

She ran out onto the road and lay down as if she were dead, her paws stretched out and her eyes shut. Along came the carters, hauling fish.

"Look, a fox! Let’s toss her on the cart, she’ll come in handy."

They threw her onto the last cart and rolled on. And the fox quietly dropped one fish into the snow, thump! Then another, thump! And then she jumped down herself, sat by the roadside and feasted.

Up ran the wolf:

"Sister Fox, give me some fish too!"

"Catch your own."

"But how?"

The fox remembered the calf and said in a honeyed voice:

"Run to the river, dip your tail into the ice hole, and keep saying: 'Come, little fish, big and small!' They’ll hang on to your tail all by themselves."

The wolf sat down by the ice hole, lowered his tail into the black water and mumbled:

"Come, little fish, big and small! Come, little fish, big and small!"

And the fox hid behind a snowdrift and whispered:

"Freeze, freeze, wolf’s tail! Freeze, freeze, wolf’s tail!"

The night was frosty, the stars were glittering, and the tail grew heavier and heavier.

"Sister Fox, something is pulling!"

"That’s lots of fish biting. Sit a little longer!"

Then the tail froze into the ice, fast and firm. And the fox ran to the village:

"Come, people, let’s beat the wolf!"

People came running, some with brooms, some with oven forks, some with pokers. The wolf tugged and tugged, but the ice would not let go! He gave a mighty yank, tore his tail free, left the tip in the ice and dashed into the forest, so fast the snow swirled.

Since then the pushy wolf never asks the fox for anything, neither a ride nor a fish. He remembers well what he paid for somebody else’s calf. And the fox still lives in her little house.