There once was a fox whose father had left him nothing but a wall. But the son, not to be outdone, had a grand idea of his own. Twirling his magnificent whiskers, the fox opened a grand school in the middle of a reed forest.
His students were a motley crew: tiny crickets, chirping grasshoppers, the children of dragonflies, tortoises, and millipedes with their thousand legs. There were earthworms, centipedes, beetles, cockroaches, frogs, and crabs with their spindly legs. The fox-teacher’s school was filled with students, and the reed forest buzzed day and night with their lessons.
Seeing this, a crocodile thought, “My goodness! Everyone’s children are getting an education. Will my sons remain ignorant?” So, the crocodile took his seven sons to the fox’s school and enrolled them.
The children began to learn their letters.
The fox said, “Mr. Crocodile, you just wait and see. In seven days, each of your sons will be a master of all knowledge, a true champion.”
Overjoyed, the crocodile went home.
The teacher taught his lessons, and every day, he ate one of the crocodile’s sons for lunch. This went on for six days.
The crocodile thought, “Tomorrow my sons will come home as masters of all knowledge. I should go and see them today.” He said to his wife, “My dear, prepare a feast of the finest fish. Our sons will be hungry when they return.” And so, the crocodile, dressed in an old sackcloth, a tattered net for a shawl, and a fisherman’s hat, chewing on a mouthful of moss and patting his large belly, went to see the teacher.
“Teacher, teacher,” he said, “let me see how much my sons have learned.”
The teacher quickly got up and said, “Welcome, welcome, please sit. You there, beetle, bring some tobacco. And you, grasshopper, fetch the snuff box. Now, where have those handsome crocodile boys gone? Please, sit, I will call them.”
The fox went into his den and, holding up the one remaining son, showed him to the crocodile seven times.
“Mr. Crocodile,” he said, “I have worked so hard. Why leave things unfinished for just a little more? All your sons have become great scholars. If they stay just one more day, they will be true champions when they go home.” The crocodile replied, “Very well, very well, that is a fine idea.”
The foolish crocodile went home, happy.
The next day, the fox-teacher ate the last of the sons for breakfast, closed his school, and fled.
When the crocodile returned, he found the school empty. The students were not studying, the fox-teacher was not there, and the reed forest was silent. The crocodile finally understood what had happened. Slapping his face and head, he wept and said, “Alright, teacher, you just wait. Will you not eat crabs anymore? Will you not go to the canal anymore? You will come to this canal for crabs, and we’ll see how you escape the crocodile’s grasp.”
The crocodile hid in the water of the canal and waited.
Days passed. The fox-teacher would wander along the banks of the canal, but he would not dip a single paw in the water. But hunger is a terrible thing. And on the other side of the canal, he could see crabs dancing with their claws in the air. He couldn’t resist. Forgetting everything, he thought, “Come what may,” and jumped into the water.
And where could he go? The crocodile clamped down on the teacher’s leg with his thirty-six rows of teeth.
In the struggle, the teacher was pushed into a thicket of reeds. He quickly broke off a reed and said with a laugh, “Ha! I never knew Mr. Crocodile was so foolish! You’ve caught a reed, not my leg! Let go of the reed and grab my leg.”
The crocodile thought, “Eh? Have I caught a reed?” He let go of the leg and bit down on the reed.
The teacher leaped out of the water in three bounds.
“Mr. Crocodile, hokka hua! I will open my school again. Do send your children.”
Days passed. The crocodile could not lay a hand on the fox.
Finally, one day, after much thought, the crocodile lay on the bank of the canal with his tail straight, his mouth open to the sun, pretending to be dead. The fox-teacher was passing by. He saw the crocodile and thought, “Well! The crocodile is dead! I must go and invite the vixen to the feast.”
But the teacher was suspicious. He twirled his whiskers three times, licked his lips, and said, “Ah, he was a good fellow! What happened to him? How did he die? Well, what are the signs of death in a crocodile?” Hmmm…
“The ears will flap, the tail will slap the ground with a crack. Then he is truly dead! This fellow is not dead yet.”
The crocodile thought what the fox said must be true. He had no ears, but he shook his head and slapped his tail on the ground with a loud crack.
A group of shepherd boys was nearby.
“Hey! It’s the crocodile that came onto the land, the one that ate the calf the other day!”
With sickles, sticks, and stones, the shepherd boys came running and chased the crocodile away.
The fox-teacher ran off in three leaps.
“Hokka hua, Mr. Crocodile! Goodbye! I’m leaving now!”
After running a long way, the fox-teacher entered an eggplant field. His stomach was rumbling with hunger, and he began to eat the eggplants with great relish. As he was eating, a thorn got stuck in his nose. He sneezed and sneezed, but it would not come out. His face was covered in blood.
Finally, exhausted, the fox went to a barber’s house.
“Mr. Barber, are you home? Please come out with your tweezers.”
The barber was a very kind man. He came out with his tweezers and said, “Who is it, brother fox-teacher? My, what has happened! Oh dear, your nose is in a bad state.”
The fox, sobbing, said, “That is why I am crying, my friend. I am in great distress. I have no one else to turn to, so I have come to you.”
The barber, being a kind soul, felt sorry for him. “Sit, sit,” he said, “I will take out the thorn.”
But as he was trying to take out the thorn, the fox’s nose was cut off.
“Oww, oww! You wretched, cruel barber! Look what you have done! Put my nose back on, or I will show you!”
The kind barber was terrified. “Brother, I have made a terrible mistake. Please forgive me, or this poor man will die.”
The fox said, “Alright, what’s done is done. Give me your tweezers, and I will let you go.”
What could he do? The barber gave the fox his tweezers.
“Alright,” said the fox, “I will be on my way.”
The fox was passing by a potter’s house. The potter saw him and said, “Who goes there, brother? What is that in your mouth?”
The fox replied, “Is that you, brother potter? I am just carrying these tweezers.” The potter needed a pair of tweezers badly. “Brother,” he said, “let me see how they are.”
As he was examining them, the tweezers broke with a snap. “Oh dear!” said the potter.
The fox, angry, said, “That will not do, Mr. Potter’s son! If you know what’s good for you, you will replace my tweezers.”
There was no blacksmith in that village. The potter, helpless, said, “What can I do, brother? If you do not forgive me, this poor man will die.”
The fox said, “Then give me a pot.”
The potter gave him a pot and breathed a sigh of relief. The fox took the pot and went on his way.
A wedding procession was passing by. They were setting off fireworks. In the dark, a firecracker flew and landed in the fox’s pot, shattering it. The fox, his eyes blazing, went to the procession and said, “Who are you, getting married with such fanfare? Could you not find another place to set off your fireworks? If you know what’s good for you, give me back my pot.”
The groom was dumbfounded. Everyone said, “Forgive us, brother, forgive us, or we will all be in trouble.”
The fox said, “That will not do. Give me the bride, and then you can go wherever you please.”
What could they do? The groom gave the bride to the fox.
Taking the bride, the fox went on his way.
He went to a drummer’s house and said, “Brother drummer, brother drummer, how many of you are there? I am getting married. I want to hire all your drums. The bride will stay here. I am going to fetch the priest.”
The drummer went to arrange for the drums, and the fox went to the priest’s house. The drummer’s wife was cutting vegetables. The bride, drowsy, fell on the large cutting blade and was cut in two. Terrified, the drummer’s wife took the two pieces of the bride and hid them in a haystack.
The fox returned with the priest and saw that the bride was gone.
“If you know what’s good for you, drummer’s wife, bring back the bride!”
The drummer’s wife, terrified, ran into her house and cried, “Oh mother, what will happen!”
The fox said, “Never mind all that. Give me the drummer’s drum, and I will let you go.”
The drummer’s wife thought, “I am saved!” She quickly brought the drum and gave it to him, then ran inside and bolted the door.
The fox took the drum, climbed a palm tree, and began to play and sing:
“Tak duma dum dum! A thorn in the eggplant field, tak duma dum dum! Lost my nose for the thorn, tak duma dum dum! Got tweezers for my nose, tak duma dum dum! Got a pot for the tweezers, tak duma dum dum! Got a bride for the pot, tak duma dum dum! Got a drum for the bride, tak duma dum dum! Dagum dagum dug duma dum! Dum duma dum dum!”
As the fox danced with joy, his foot slipped, and… that was the end of him.