Fujimori was the most well-to-do farmer in Nonogawa. After losing several of his ducks and sacks of rice during a harsh winter, he set a trap for the thief. He suspected bandits. The farmer wasn’t ready to handle a whole group of them. Though, if he could catch one, perhaps he might coerce the robber to compensate for the loss.

In the morning, he found a gray, nine-tailed kitsune dangling helplessly by a leg from the snare. It panted and uttered a pathetic growl. 

Hissing through his teeth at the bad luck, the farmer spotted the thief's hoshi no tama, the ball that holds its spirit and magic, on the ground. The trickster deserves to hang there. Fuijimori scooped up the magic ball, causing the fox to gasp.

In a weak voice, the kitsune said, "Please, Sir. Do not take my tama! My family needed food to survive this cruel season, and you seemed to have more than enough. If you release me and return the ball, I’ll ensure your yields, even those of this dale, are plentiful in the years to come."

While that sounded good to Fujimori-san, he was a busy merchant with many fields and workers. He hadn't kept up with other duties, though.

The kitsune’s pleading intensified. “I know you tend the shrines to Inari. I can manage that too."

With a nod, the farmer replied, "Deal," and cut his prisoner down from the tree before returning the ball.

To this day, the fox and his descendants keep the bargain.

Do the kitsune actually maintain the worship centers? It’s uncertain. But contributions of inarizushi and aburaage, given in gratitude for the bountiful harvests along with the maintenance of the shrines, are common sights at small shrines around Nonogawa.