One summer, the fox learned that Ankakumikaityn the nomad wolf was courting his neighbor, the elder she-dog.
The wily fox crafted a wolf's outfit: a grey fur cloak, boots, and a cap. When the she-dog's brothers were away and she was home with her younger sister, he visited.
"I have two herds of fat reindeer," the fox told the elder sister, sipping the bilberry tea she offered. "I have come to seek your hand."
Believing him to be Ankakumikaityn, the she-dog served him the finest food: reindeer meat, hot mare's-blood sausages, raw walrus liver, and pickled fish. The fox kept his cap on, unwilling to remove it and risk exposure. "As a wealthy man," he explained, "I wear my cap so people respect me."
Suddenly, barking dogs were heard in the distance. "My brothers are returning from the hunt," said the she-dog.
"Oh dear," cried the fox, "they might frighten my herds. I must go warn them."
Once outside, he dashed up a nearby hill, loosened rocks, and when the dog brothers appeared, pushed boulders down the slope, crushing them. He then returned to the tent, finished his tea, and charmed the sisters with smooth talk. At dusk, while they were busy, he stole all their food supplies.
The next morning, the sisters were alarmed to find their supplies gone and their brothers missing. Searching the valley, they discovered their dead brothers and wept in despair. "Who could have done this?" they wailed.
In their grief, they decided to seek counsel from Ankakumikaityn. The nomad wolf was puzzled. "But I never visited you yesterday!" he exclaimed.
The sisters soon realized the fox had tricked them. With the wolf's help, they devised a plan for revenge.
The next day, the fox, unaware he had been found out, visited again disguised as Ankakumikaityn. This time, the sisters were ready. As the fox drank tea and made pleasant conversation, the nomad wolf slipped into the tent, seized the treacherous fox, and tied him up.
"What shall we do with this scoundrel?" asked the wolf.
"Let's put him in a sack and leave him on the tundra," the sisters suggested.
They did just that. Terrified, the fox wondered what his fate would be. Finally, the sack was dropped with a thud. The younger sister gathered dry grass and brushwood, piled it around the sack, surrounded it with stones, and lit a fire.
The poor fox finally burst from the burning sack, his wolf's clothing aflame, and rushed across the tundra like a living torch.
Satisfied with their revenge, the dog sisters and the wolf returned to the tent. Ankakumikaityn wed the elder sister, and the younger sister cared for their children. Later, she too found a husband.
Since then, red foxes have appeared in the tundra. It seems the wily old fox, scorched and fiery red, managed to survive his roasting after all.