The Wolf-cub and the Giant

A children’s tale of the back country, as told many generations later.

Once upon a time little Wisty the wolfling lived with his friend The Little Man in Mother Geffen’s Home. They had lots of friends living with them and lots more up and down the valley nearby.

One day, while the two were eating their puddings, there was a knocking on the door and in came their friend Leaper from up the valley.

“Oh dear, Leaper, you’ve got such dark rings under your eyes. Are you feeling ill? You should have a pudding to make you feel better,” said The Little Man and he gave Leaper a black pudding all of his own. Leaper was a very well-mannered young frog so he said thank you and ate up his pudding before he told his friends what was wrong.

“I have dark rings under my eyes and spots too! I think I’m turning into an ugly toad that lives in the marsh! It is all because we can’t sleep, up at the other end of the valley!” He announced. “There is a big man playing loud music, somewhere up past the end of the valley. It makes ripples in Pondbert’s pond, where I live, keeps everyone awake and scares all our little animal friends who are running off to hide in the forest. Mr Bear is trying to settle down to sleep off Yule, but bits of his den are falling down!”

“Oh my goodness me!” Said The Little Man, “that sounds very bad. Perhaps we should go with all our friends to ask the big man to stop, please. I’m sure he’d listen if lots of us asked nicely.”

So The Little Man called some of his other friends in Mother Geffen’s Home and gave them all a pudding and they listened eagerly to Leaper’s story that evening.

Wisty the Wolfling had already heard the story, so he went out for a little run in the moonlight instead. Once he had got away from the Home and couldn’t hear The Little Man and his friends talking any more, he pricked up his ears and listened to his wolf friends singing in the moonlight up in the hills around the valley. They sang to the Moon smiling down on them and to one another. In amongst the songs though, there was a distant beat that Wisty hadn’t heard before.

“What is that?” Wisty asked himself. He was only a little wolf so he couldn’t sing loud enough to ask the other wolves what was going on. “But it is a nice night and the moon is high and bright! Though it’s further than I’ve been before, I’ll go for a run to the other end of the valley to have a look!”

So he very carefully checked the magic silver thread that would lead him back Mother Geffen’s Home. It was strong and thick and stretched easily when he caught it between his teeth and pulled on it. He could see it led straight back home and wasn’t snagged on anything. So he let it go with a happy “Yip!” and a twang and off he ran…

He ran and he ran under the gibbous moon and came to the marsh.

He ran well clear of the marsh edge because he didn’t want to get his paws muddy and make a mess of Mother Geffen’s floor when he got home. Of course there might also be toads plotting there in the marsh – but that is another story.

So he ran on. He ran and he ran under the gibbous moon and came to the Big Red Mill.

The Big Red Mill, with its big red wheel, rumbled as it ground out the corn for the valley, night and day. It was so loud a rumble that he could not hear the beat any more. Of course usually no one minded the rumble of the Big Red Mill wheel because it was always there, night and day, making the flour for people to make into lovely puddings all year round.

“Still,” thought Wisty, “I heard the beat earlier amongst the wolf song, a long way off, and I’m only half way to Mr Bear’s den and not even at Pondbert’s pond. I need to keep going and get away from the the noise of people and their mills.”

So he ran on. And he ran and he ran under the gibbous moon as it started to lower towards the western hills.

Wisty ran so far and so long he was feeling quite stretched from all the running. He licked at the magic silver cord, which was quite thin and taut now, but it still had a bit of twang left. So he ran on past Pondbert’s pond and the worried croaking there, and past where Mr Bear was growling “Oh, my eaves and timbers!” as bits of his winter den fell down from a great shaking in the ground.

It was quite difficult to run now, at the end of the valley, and Wisty walked carefully between the trees to the top and the stone that marked the end of Mother Geffen’s land. His silver thread was quite thin and tight, so Wisty had to be careful not to catch it while weaving between the trees.

“Hey you! Who d’you think you spyin’ on?”

There, as Wisty pushed through a haze of scratchy bushes, was a big man who stopped beating out a rhythm on the rocks and tree trunks with his big stick but kept stamping it out on the ground. The big man stared at Wisty. Little Wisty thought the big man looked like a giant, but Wisty was only a very small young wolf so a lot of things looked like giants to him. Almost everything except The Little Man.

“Please sir, “ said Wisty, “I’m not spyin’, I mean spying, I just heard the beats dropping and came to see what was going down.”

“Oh yeah? You be coming here, trailing yo silver leash? You be like someone’s dawg! Now you take a message to whoever be at the other end o’ yo’ leash. I woke up this morning and my cattle were gone. I follow a trail here and what do I find? I find this heyah border stone marked ‘No Further’. I am so law-abidin’ I don’t disrespect no ‘no further’ sign. I just stop here and sing mah pro-test song, ’til someone give me what I want. Then I go ’way.”

And he started singing and beating on the trees again with his big stick and stamping on the ground again so it shook and it shook and it shook.

I woke up this morning
My cattle been gone
I woke up this morning, dawg
M’cattle been gone
I thought m’neatherd feared me
It seems that I’m wrong
Yes, he been gone

I cried every night, Humfrith
For you to come home, yes, I do
I cried every night, Humfrith
For you to come home
I’m feeling so lonely, Humfrith
I’m left all alone
Yes, I’m left all alone

I woke up this morning, thief
Your house is falling down
I woke up this morning, thieves
All houses falling down
I’m getting so lonely, Humfrith
Oh, yeah, Humfrith, I wish you would die
Oh, yeah, houses falling on the ground

Wisty didn’t really understand the Giant’s song and was a bit annoyed at being called a dog, because he was a wolf – though a very young one – so he tried to slip away while the big man capered and shouted and hit the trees with his big stick. The big man had very sharp eyes though.

“Hey, puppy-dawg, I don’t give you no leave to go! HEEL dawg!”

Wisty felt a tug on the magical silver thread as if the big man reached out to catch at it. Wisty was so angry he forgot to be as polite as a good little wolf-cub should be and shouted out

“STUPID GIANT, I am free wolfling and you won’t catch me. I’m going to tell my friend The Little Man all about you being rude and noisy and he’ll come to speak to you about it!”

So Wisty scampered back through the trees following his silver thread. It was to looking very pale and thin as the Moon lowered towards the high hills around the valley, so Wisty ran and he ran back to Mother Geffen’s house, bounding along the valley. At each bound the thread got a little thicker and he felt as if the thread was tugging him home. Just as the last light from the tip of the moon was disappearing behind the hills, he reached home. It was all quiet there, so he went straight to bed, like a good little wolfling.

In the morning Wisty told The Little Man and his friends what had happened.

“Right,” said The Little Man, “we can’t be doing with that. That is threatening behaviour and attempted wolf-napping. We shall have to go and have a Stern Word with this fellow. Come along everyone!”

The two big twins who lived with them looked at each other. The one called Frith asked “Please, sir, may we be excused? We have to tend to the cows so there will be milk to drink when you get back and cheese to eat for dinner.” The other, Hum, who never said anything, nodded in agreement. Frith went on “That sounds a very scary giant and I’m not sure what I would do if he were to frighten me.” Hum nodded even more.

“Ah, well,” said The Little Man, “we can’t leave the herd unattended can we? They might wander off again. You look after them then, and I’ll go and talk some sense in to this Giant fellow.”

“Oh do be careful, Little Man” Frith said, “the Giant sounds a very angry! Who knows what he might to if he lost his temper?” Then Frith and Hum got down on their hands and knee to go out of the door and go to look after the cattle.

The Little Man and his friends got on their horses and rocked along the valley until they reached Pondbert, whose pond was rippling so much that water was spilling over the lip and the lily pads bumping against each other. There they found a visiting – and very grumpy – Mr Bear whose den had fallen down. He led them up the valley to where all the noise was coming from: the Giant, up by the boundary stone.

The Little Man and his friends marched up to the boundary stone and politely asked the the Giant to stop his singing and crashing because it was disturbing everybody. The Giant grew so angry that he roared and stamped and shouted bad words at them which made several of the Little Man’s friends fall on the ground with their hands over their ears. He laughed to see them so upset and ran round and round in circles, around the boundary stone, laughing and shouting at them all and not being in the least law-abiding.

Then Leaper hopped around behind him and hopped up, right onto the Giant’s head and croaked “Please stop this Mr Giant. You are scaring my friends.”

“Arrrgh!” screamed the Giant, stopping dead and trying to brush Leaper off. “Frogs! Oh no! I can’t stand croaking frogs. Why did it have to be frogs?!”

He stumbled and Leaper hopped off his head. The Giant fell on his knees moaning and crawled away. Soon the only sign of him were the broken rocks and battered trees he’d left behind.

And that was the last they heard of the Giant and his odd song.

The Little Man dusted his hands and pronounced peace restored, save for rebuilding Mr Bear’s den so he could get some sleep. So The Little Man and his friends all rushed down the hill and piled branches and leaves over Mr Bear, so he could sleep for the rest of winter and not be grumpy when they next saw him.

Then they rocked their horses home to Mother Geffen’s, where they each had a nice mug of warm fresh milk as a reward for a job well done.

Then they all went to bed for a good night’s sleep after a busy day.

Good night, children!