An old farmer once kept in his yard an ox, a ram, a goose, a chicken, and a pig. With guests coming for dinner over the holidays, he said to his wife, “Old woman, we shall need meat for the holidays. I’ll kill the chicken in the morning.”
The chicken, who happened to be listening at the door, fled to the forest as fast as his legs could carry him. When the farmer came out before sunrise to wring his neck, there was no chicken anywhere to be found.
That evening the farmer said to his wife, “I couldn’t find the chicken, so I shall have to kill the pig instead.”
The pig heard this too, and off he went to the safety of the trees. The old man searched high and low, and found nothing.
“How very strange,” he said. “First the chicken, and now the pig. It will have to be the ram.”
When the ram heard that, he went straight to the goose and suggested they run away together, since sooner or later they would both end up in the pot. So under cover of darkness the ram and the goose slipped away to the forest. The farmer hunted through every corner of the yard the next morning without finding so much as a feather.
“That leaves only the ox,” he sighed. “It’s a pity, but we must have meat for the holidays.”
The ox, hearing this, plodded off to join his companions among the trees.
All through the summer the five animals lived happily. There was food everywhere and not a care between them. But summer turned to autumn, the leaves withered, and one morning there was ice across the waterholes. The ox called the others together.
“Listen to me, friends,” he said. “Winter is coming. We must build a hut to shelter in.”
The ram shook his head. “I have a warm woollen coat. I shall winter in that.”
“Frost doesn’t bother me,” said the pig. “I’ll burrow a hole in the ground and manage without a hut.”
“Nor me,” said the goose. “I shall use one wing as a pillow and the other as a blanket, and I shan’t feel the wind at all.”
“And I,” said the chicken, “shall shelter in a fir tree.”
Seeing that he would get no help from any of them, the ox sighed. “As you wish. But I am building myself a hut.”
So the ox worked alone. He felled the timber, and cut it, and fitted it, and raised a strong wooden hut with his own two horns. He built a stove inside it and lit a fire, and settled down snug and warm.
Winter came in hard, with heavy snow and a bitter, cutting wind.
The ram, for all his woolly fleece, shivered and wandered until he found himself outside the ox’s door.
“Baa-baa-baa! Let me into your hut!”
“Certainly not,” said the ox. “I asked for your help, and you told me your coat would keep you warm.”
“If you don’t let me in, I shall break your door down with my horns!”
The ox, thinking of his good door, gave way. “All right, Brother Ram. Come in.” And the ram came in and settled himself beside the stove.
Not long after, there came the pig.
“Grunt, grunt, grunt! Let me in to warm myself!”
“Certainly not,” said the ox. “You said you would burrow a hole and keep warm.”
“If you don’t let me in, I shall knock your doorposts down with my snout!”
Fearing for his hut, the ox let the pig in, and the pig made himself comfortable in the cellar.
Next came the goose.
“Hiss, hiss, hiss! Let me in — I’m freezing!”
“No, Brother Goose. You said your wings would keep you warm.”
“If you don’t let me in, I shall peck all the moss from between your windows!”
The ox sighed and opened the door, and the goose perched herself beside it.
Last of all came the chicken.
“Chicken-a-doodle-doo! Let me in — I’m freezing!”
“No, Brother Chicken. You said you would winter in a fir tree.”
“If you don’t let me in, I shall peck holes right through your roof!”
Reluctantly, the ox let him in too, and the chicken flew up to a beam above the door.
So the five of them lived together in the warm hut. But their peace did not last long, for word of that cosy dwelling reached a wolf and a bear out in the woods.
“Let’s eat them and take the hut for ourselves,” said the bear.
“You go first,” said the wolf. “You’re the stronger.”
“No, you go,” replied the bear. “You’re the nimbler.”
In the end it was the wolf who burst through the door in the middle of the night.
He did not get far.
The ox pinned him against the wall with his horns. The ram butted him hard from the side. From down in the cellar, the pig bellowed, “I’m sharpening the axe and the knife! I’ll skin that wolf alive!” The goose beat at him with her wings and pecked at his legs, and the chicken screeched from the beam overhead, “That’s the way! Bring him up here and I’ll hang him from the rafters!”
The bear, hearing the uproar from outside, turned and fled into the woods without waiting to see how it ended. The wolf came scrambling out after him, battered and bruised and thoroughly frightened.
Once he was safe, he told his tale.
“Oh, it was terrible!” he wailed. “A giant in black smacked me against the wall with clubs. A brute in a grey cloak butted me. A white fiend scratched at me, and a red-aproned demon screeched at me from above. And there was another monster bellowing from beneath the floor, threatening to skin me alive!”
From that day on, the wolf and the bear kept well away from the hut in the forest, and the five friends were left to live in peace.