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He grinned at her, and tried to pull the axe free.
He sank to his knees, his face suddenly white.
Granny leaned down until she was level with his ear.
'You could have seen to the old woman,' she said quietly. 'You could have talked to the wolf. But you didn't, right?'
He tried to speak, but his teeth didn't seem to want to part.
'I can see you're very sorry about all that,' she said. 'I can see you're seein' the error of your ways. I bet you can't wait to be up and repairing her cottage for her, and getting the garden back in good order, and seeing she has fresh milk every day and a good supply of wood, right? In fact I wouldn't be surprised if you wasn't generous enough to build her a new cottage, with a proper well an' all. Somewhere near the village so she don't have to live alone, right? You know, I can see the future sometimes and I just know that's what's goin' to happen, right?'
Sweat ran off his face. Now his lungs didn't seem to be operating, either.
'An' I knows you're goin' to keep your word, and I'm so pleased about it that I'm going to make sure you're especially lucky,' said Granny, her voice still in the same pleasant monotone. 'I knows it can be a dangerous job, woodchoppin'. People can get hurt. Trees can accidentally fall on 'em, or the top of their chopper can suddenly come off and cut their head open.' The woodcutter shuddered as Granny went on: 'So what I'm goin' to do is a little spell to make sure that none of this 'appens to you. On account of me bein' so grateful. Because of you helpin' the old lady. Right? Just nod.'
e, this mattress is stuffed with straw!'
'You won't have to lie on it for long.'
'It prickles! And I think there's things in it.'
Something bumped against the wall of the house. The witches fell silent.
There was a snuffling noise under the back door.
'You know,' whispered Nanny, as they waited, 'the scullery's terrible. There's no firewood. And there's hardly any food. And there's a jug of milk that's practically on the march -'
Granny sidled quickly across the room to the fireplace, and then back to her station by the front door.
After a moment there was a scrabbling at the latch, as if it was being operated by someone who was unfamiliar either with doors or with fingers.
The door creaked open slowly.
There was an overwhelming smell of musk and wet fur.
Uncertain footsteps tottered across the floor and towards the figure huddling under the bedclothes.
Nanny raised the mob-cap's floppy frill just enough to see out.
'Wotcha,' she said, and then, 'Oh, blimey, I never realized you had teeth that big - '
Granny Weatherwax pushed the door shut and stepped forward briskly. The wolf spun around, a paw raised protectively.
'Nooaaaaaw!'
Granny hesitated for a second, and then hit it very hard on the head with a cast-iron frying pan.
The wolf crumpled.
Nanny Ogg swung her legs out of the bed.
'When it happened over Skund way they said it was a werewolf or something, and I thought, no, werewolves aren't like that,' she said. 'I never thought it was a real wolf. Gave me quite a turn, that.'
'Real wolves don't walk on their hind legs and open doors,' said Granny Weatherwax. 'Come on, help me get it outside.'
'Took me right back, seeing a great big hairy slathering thing heading towards me,' said Nanny, picking up one end of the stunned creature. 'Did you ever meet old Sumpkins?'
It was, indeed, a normal-looking wolf, except that it was a lot thinner than most. Ribs showed plainly under the skin and the fur was matted. Granny hauled a bucket of cloudy water from the well next to the privy and poured it over its head.
