The one-wheeled cart that passes on a village road at night with nobody pulling it. In the entry this site reads, meeting it costs a bold man his senses, and — the part English summaries leave out — merely speaking of it indoors brings a curse, so the houses shut their doors and kept quiet. A wife looks through the crack anyway, is told to go and look at her own child instead, and finds the child gone; she writes a poem, pastes it at the door, and the cart reads it aloud and gives the child back.