“That is not strange,” said the Oni with a grin; “for when I saw that juicy dumpling rolling my way I caught it and ate it. It was good. I wish I had the person who made it!”
O Sanja San was as angry as she could be at the thought of his eating her dumpling. She was frightened, too, and she cowered closer in the shadow of the Lord Jizu.
“What I smell now is meat, fresh human meat, juicy, young and tender!” and the Oni sniffed again and smacked his lips very impolitely.
This was too much for Sanja. She could not help thinking of her wrinkled, withered flesh, and how far from juicy, young and tender it was. She laughed out loud, “Tee-hee-hee. Tee-hee-hee!”
The Oni’s ears were as good as his nose, and without a word he stretched out a long, hairy arm behind Jizu, and pulled her forth from her hiding place. She was frightened terribly, but still she laughed.
“Who are you?” demanded the Oni.
“I am the woman who made the dumpling,” she answered. “Why did you eat it?”
“Because it was good,” said the Oni.
“You couldn’t eat me for that reason,” said Sanja.
“I don’t intend to eat you,” said the Oni. “You will come home with me and cook. You needn’t be afraid. As long as you cook good dumplings for me nothing will harm you.”