The Fox Doctor

Once there lived an old man and an old woman. The old man planted a little cabbage in the space beneath the floor, and the old woman planted one in the ash box.…

Once there lived an old man and an old woman. The old man planted a little cabbage in the space beneath the floor, and the old woman planted one in the ash box. The old woman’s cabbage withered away, but the old man’s grew and grew until it reached the floor. He took an axe and chopped a hole in the floor directly above it.

The cabbage grew and grew again, until it reached the ceiling. The old man took his axe again and chopped a hole in the ceiling directly above it. The cabbage grew and grew until it reached the sky.

How could the old man see the top of the cabbage? He began climbing up the plant. He climbed and climbed, climbed and climbed, reached the sky, cut a hole in it and climbed through. He looked around: there stood a little hand mill. Whenever its stones turned, out came a pie and a shanga bread roll, with a pot of porridge on top. The old man ate and drank his fill, then lay down to sleep.

When he had slept enough, he climbed back down to earth and said:

“Old woman, old woman! What a life they have in heaven! There’s a hand mill there: whenever its stones turn, out come a pie and a shanga, with a pot of porridge on top!”

“How could I go there, old man?”

“Get into a sack, old woman. I’ll carry you up.”

The old woman thought it over and got into the sack.

The old man took the sack in his teeth and began climbing to heaven. He climbed and climbed for a long time. The old woman grew bored and asked:

“Is it far, old man?”

“A long way, old woman!”

Again he climbed and climbed, climbed and climbed.

“Is it far, old man?”

“Half the way still to go!”

Again he climbed and climbed, climbed and climbed. The old woman asked once more:

“Is it far, old man?”

The old man was just about to say:

“Not far!” But the sack slipped from his teeth, and the old woman fell to the ground and was killed. The old man climbed down the cabbage and picked up the sack. Inside were nothing but bones, broken into little pieces.

The old man left the house, weeping bitterly. A fox came towards him:

“Why are you crying, old man?”

“How can I help crying? My old woman fell and was killed.”

“Hush. I’ll cure her.”

The old man fell at the fox’s feet:

“Cure her, and I’ll pay whatever you ask!”

“Then heat the bathhouse. Bring in a little sack of toasted oat flour, a little pot of butter and the old woman. You stay outside the door and don’t look inside.”

The old man heated the bathhouse, brought everything she needed and stood outside the door. The fox went in, hooked the door shut and began washing the old woman’s bones. Whether she washed them or not, she certainly kept gnawing them. The old man asked:

“How are you, old woman?”

“She’s stirring!” said the fox. Meanwhile, she finished eating the old woman, gathered the bones into a corner and began mixing salamata gruel.

The old man waited and waited, then asked:

“How are you, old woman?”

“She’s sitting up!” said the fox, as she finished slurping her salamata. When she had eaten it, she said:

“Old man, open the door wide.”

He opened it. The fox sprang out of the bathhouse and ran home. The old man went in and looked around. There were only the old woman’s bones beneath the bench, gnawed clean, and the oat flour and butter had been eaten. The old man was left alone in poverty.