On the evening of one quiet summer day, when the sun had slipped away behind the western hills, old Umm Salih was returning from the market to her house, holding in one hand a basket filled with sugar, tea, starch, and soap, and carrying on her shoulder a long stick from which dangled two brown hens. The two hens were not pleased at being carried in this fashion, for they were accustomed to having the ground — not the sky — beneath their feet. So they blinked their eyes and did not utter a single word, and Umm Salih went on her way, worn out with weariness. Meanwhile the red fox was breathing in the mild evening breeze behind the prickly-pear trees. Then all of a sudden he raised his long snout and began to sniff at what was around him, for the smell of chicken had reached his nostrils. His mouth watered as this thought crossed his mind, and he peered with his nose through the folds of the prickly-pear trees, and there he saw Umm Salih walking slowly along the dusty road, carrying the two delicious hens. The sight of her stirred up his appetite — but how was he to get at them? He shook his head once, then twice, and walked along behind the hedge of prickly-pear trees, keeping level with Umm Salih's road.

When Umm Salih passed the bend in the road, she saw a fox with beautiful red fur sprawled in the middle of the road, a lifeless corpse. She set her basket on the ground and looked at him in astonishment, then said: "What a beautiful piece of fur!" Then she took up her basket again and continued on her way. Hardly was Umm Salih out of sight when the red fox stood up on his feet and slipped away behind the prickly-pear trees. He passed Umm Salih and her two hens hanging from the stick, as she still trudged on toward her house with effort and exhaustion. He had to be quick, for there was only one more bend in the road; so he stole out of the field and threw himself down in the road once more, pretending to be a dead body. When Umm Salih rounded the bend she nearly fell over the fox's body, and she cried out: "Good Lord! Here is another dead fox. The plague must be spreading among the foxes. But the skins of two foxes would do to make a beautiful rug for my bed. I shall leave my load here and go fetch the second fox." And she matched word with deed.

And what did the red fox do? He sprang to his feet quick as lightning, snatched the stick and the two hens with it, and went on his way, strutting under the wing of dusk. When Umm Salih came back to her basket she shook her head and sighed, saying: "The world is teeming with thieves. Not content with stealing two foxes, they have stolen the two hens as well. A curse on them, wicked criminals!" And she walked slowly on her way toward her little house standing on the hill. Hardly had Umm Salih reached her house and made to open its door when she heard the red fox calling in the darkness to his wife, who stood waiting for him in the hollow of the valley. Her face darkened with anger — and no wonder she seethed with rage, for the red fox was crooning the following song:

"Come, my darling, come running, come, I have taken two hens by a clever, devilish trick; One of them is for me And the other hen is for you — How sweet is chicken, and how sweet are you!"