Author's Note: This story is an adaption of the Aesop fable of the same name. It tells the story of a fox getting stuck in a trap and, when he sees a rooster, tries to trick the rooster into letting him go. The rooster doesn't fall for the trick and instead crows loudly in order to draw out the farmer who then kills the fox. In the original fable, the story is told from the fox's point of view, but I decided to use the rooster's for my own re-telling. Also note that I've capitalized a few words that normally wouldn't be, this is intentional.
The Cock and The Fox
It is during the darkest hour that Rooster wakes – the hour when the last of Moon’s light has faded from the stars and has yet to be replaced by Sun's.
Rooster stands and stretches his wings, pushing the sleep from his muscles. The night has been quiet, but he knows that silence doesn’t always mean safety. A lesson which not all of his kin has survived to learn.
So it is with a sense of caution that he leaves his hens to their sleep and ventures into the dark of the pre-dawn. The air around him is still and heavy; not even the song birds have woken.
Rooster ventures first around his wooden hutch, the home given to him and his hens by the humans, before he turns to the long wooden fence that keeps the horses in. An old Clydesdale mare opens an eye and chuffs at him in greeting before she's drifting to sleep again.
Rooster is about to turn towards the gardens, to see what damage the wild rabbits had done in the night, when he hears a low curse – carried only to him by the barest breeze.
Rooster turns towards the noise, hears someone say: “Stupid, stupid.” Rooster cocks his head to the side – he didn’t recognize the voice as belonging to any animal on his farm. And when he sees why he doesn’t recognize the voice, Rooster’s feathers stand on end and his claws reflexively curl into the dirt, ready to use his spurs if it came to that.
A fox, with his leg trapped in a snare of wire, lay in the dirt with a bloodied muzzle – obviously having tried to free himself from the wire with his teeth.
“Howdy, little rooster,” the fox says, trying to tug his leg free again even as he spoke; the wire only tightened. “Oh, dear rooster, won't you free me, little rooster? My ma’s sick with the Slow Death and I need to see ‘er ‘for it’s too late, dear rooster!”
Rooster caws out a laugh – he’s an old bird and he knows that nothing but lies falls from the lips of foxes – and says, “It’s too late for you both!”
Then Rooster stretches out his neck and, just as the first of Sun’s light touches the sky, he crows out a warning to the rest of the farm.
“Rancher’ll have your fur for his daughter,” Rooster laughs as Rancher tears open the door – holding his iron-and-fire stick.
“Cursed rooster,” the fox screams, ripping again at his leg as he tries to escape – then he’s stilled by the fire from the iron in Rancher’s hand.
Rooster stands and stretches his wings, pushing the sleep from his muscles. The night has been quiet, but he knows that silence doesn’t always mean safety. A lesson which not all of his kin has survived to learn.
So it is with a sense of caution that he leaves his hens to their sleep and ventures into the dark of the pre-dawn. The air around him is still and heavy; not even the song birds have woken.
Rooster ventures first around his wooden hutch, the home given to him and his hens by the humans, before he turns to the long wooden fence that keeps the horses in. An old Clydesdale mare opens an eye and chuffs at him in greeting before she's drifting to sleep again.
Rooster is about to turn towards the gardens, to see what damage the wild rabbits had done in the night, when he hears a low curse – carried only to him by the barest breeze.
Rooster turns towards the noise, hears someone say: “Stupid, stupid.” Rooster cocks his head to the side – he didn’t recognize the voice as belonging to any animal on his farm. And when he sees why he doesn’t recognize the voice, Rooster’s feathers stand on end and his claws reflexively curl into the dirt, ready to use his spurs if it came to that.
A fox, with his leg trapped in a snare of wire, lay in the dirt with a bloodied muzzle – obviously having tried to free himself from the wire with his teeth.
“Howdy, little rooster,” the fox says, trying to tug his leg free again even as he spoke; the wire only tightened. “Oh, dear rooster, won't you free me, little rooster? My ma’s sick with the Slow Death and I need to see ‘er ‘for it’s too late, dear rooster!”
Rooster caws out a laugh – he’s an old bird and he knows that nothing but lies falls from the lips of foxes – and says, “It’s too late for you both!”
Then Rooster stretches out his neck and, just as the first of Sun’s light touches the sky, he crows out a warning to the rest of the farm.
“Rancher’ll have your fur for his daughter,” Rooster laughs as Rancher tears open the door – holding his iron-and-fire stick.
“Cursed rooster,” the fox screams, ripping again at his leg as he tries to escape – then he’s stilled by the fire from the iron in Rancher’s hand.
Rancher nods to himself before grinning at Rooster; then he's calling out to his daughter and wife standing in the doorway.
Rooster turns from the dead fox and the humans, flying to the top of his little wooden house and facing east – where the sky is quickly turning red and pink – and crows his welcome to Sun as He rises over the Oklahoma horizon.
Rooster turns from the dead fox and the humans, flying to the top of his little wooden house and facing east – where the sky is quickly turning red and pink – and crows his welcome to Sun as He rises over the Oklahoma horizon.
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| Rooster Crowing at Sunrise [source] |
Bibliography: The Aesop for Children, Aesop, 2006, Gutenburg Ebook.
You set up the story very nicely. The imagery you utilized did a wonderful job of painting a picture of the story. With it being told from the point of view of the rooster I've got to say he sounds kind of like a jerk. It shows he's smart though. So it was pretty interesting hearing a story in which a chicken is so sure of himself and not, you know, a chicken.
ReplyDeleteIt is interesting to hear the story from the Rooster's perspective! He does seem a little cock-y though. (Sorry I had to keep in the theme of puns on this story). I like how he states that nothing, but lies pass from the foxes mouths so you understand why he does not hear him out more. I also like that the Rooster has made himself out to be a protector of the farm. That is not something you see in stories very often!
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