THE TRAVELLING FROG
Once upon a time there was a frog in the bog. He sat in his mud home catching gnats and midges, and every spring he and his frog friends set up a loud croaking all together. And there he would have lived for the rest of his life-provided the stork had not eaten him, of course-but for a certain adventure that befell him.
One day he was sitting on the bough of a snag that stuck out of the water, enjoying a warm drizzle.
"Ah, what lovely wet weather we are having!" thought he. "Now this is life!"
The rain pattered on his speckled shiny little back; the drops trickled under his belly and behind his legs, and it felt so nice, so delightful, that he all but let out a croak, but fortunately remembered that it was autumn already, and that frogs do not croak in the autumn-they had the spring to do that in-and that no self-respecting frog would be caught croaking in the autumn. And so he kept silent and basked in the rain.
All of a sudden a shrill, intermittent whirring noise came from overhead. There is a breed of ducks whose wings, when they fly, cleave the air with a sound as if they were singing, or rather whistling. Whew-whew-whew-whew-goes the air when a flock of such ducks flies high above you, so high that you cannot even see them. On this occasion the ducks described an immense semicircle and alighted on the very bog in which our frog lived.
"Kra, kra!" one of them said. "We have a long way to fly yet, and must have something to eat."
The frog hid himself at once. Although he knew that the ducks would not eat such a big fat frog as he was, he dived under the snag just in case. On second thoughts, he decided to poke his head out of the water-so curious was he to know where the ducks were flying to.
"Kra, kra!" said another duck. "It's getting cold! We must hurry south, and be quick about it!"
And all the other ducks began quacking their approval.
"I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen," the frog said, plucking up courage, "but can you tell me-what is this south you are flying to?"
All the ducks crowded round the frog. At first they wanted to eat him, but then every duck thought to itself that the frog was too big and would not go down its throat
Then they all began gabbling together and flapping their wings.
"Oh, it's good down south! It's warm there now! There are such warm lovely swamps there! And the worms! It's wonderful down south!"
On being told, he was simply delighted, but as he was a cautious frog, he could not help inquiring, "But are there many gnats and midges there?"
"Oh, clouds of them!" the duck answered.
"Kwa!" said the frog, and turned round hastily to see whether any of his frog friends had overheard him. They would be scandalized at him croaking out of season, but he could not help giving just one little croak.
"Take me with you!" he said.
"Well, I am " cried the duck. "Fancy saying that, and you having no wings."
"When do you fly?" asked the frog.
"Soon, soon!" cried all the ducks. "Kra, kra! Kra, kra! It's cold here. South! South!"
"Will you please give me five minutes to think it over," said the frog. "I shall soon be back, and I daresay I shall think of something."
Saying which he flopped back into the water, dived into the ooze and buried himself in it completely in order to keep his mind off other things that were likely to distract him. Five minutes went by, and the ducks were already preparing to fly away, when all of a sudden the frog popped his head out of the water near the branch on which he had been sitting. His face was as radiant as a frog's face could ever be.
"I've got an idea!" he said. "Two of you will take a twig in your beaks, and I will hang on to it in the middle.
You will fly and take me for a ride. As long as you do not quack and I do not croak everything will be fine."
Keeping silent and carrying even such a light burden as the frog for three thousand miles was no great pleasure, but the ducks were so delighted at the frog's cleverness that they all readily consented to carry him. They arranged to take it in turns every two hours, and since the ducks, like those in the riddle, were so many, and twice as much, and as much again, and half as much, and a quarter as much, while the frog was only one, it wasn't often that they had to carry him. They found a good strong twig, two ducks took it in their beaks, and the frog hung on to it by his mouth in the middle, and the whole flock took to the air, The dizzy height to which they rose took the frog's breath away; besides, the ducks flew unevenly and jerked the twig; the poor frog jiggled about in the air like a paper clown, and clenched his jaws with all his might to keep from letting go his hold and crashing to the ground. However, he soon got used to his position and even began to take a look round. Fields, meadows, rivers, and hills flashed past below him, but he could not see them very well, because dangling as he was from the twig he could only look backward and a little upward, but the little that he did see filled him with joy and pride.
"What an excellent idea of mine this was," he said to himself.
And the ducks flew behind the leading pair that was carrying him, crying and praising him for all they were worth.
"What a wonderful brain our frog has," they were saying. "You won't find many such brains even among us ducks."
He was; on the point of thanking them, but reminded himself that if he opened his mouth he would go hurtling to the ground, and so he clenched his jaws harder and decided to bear it. He dangled like that all day long, the ducks who carried him changing in mid-air, one letting go the twig while another adroitly caught it. It was a terrifying experience, and more than once the frog nearly croaked from fright. One had to have great presence of mind, and the frog had that. In the evening the whole company came to rest on a bog; at daybreak they continued on their way again with the frog, but this time their passenger, the better to be able to see what went on during the journey, hung on to the twig back and head forward and belly backward. The ducks flew over reaped fields, over yellowing woods, and over villages filled with stacked corn; from there came a murmur of human voices and the knocking of the flails with which they were threshing the rye. The people stared at the flock of ducks, and seeing something odd about it, pointed at it with their fingers. The frog was just dying to fly closer to the ground to show himself and hear what people said about him. At the next halt he said:
"Must we fly so high? I feel dizzy so high up, and I'm afraid of falling should I suddenly feel sick."
And the kind-hearted ducks promised to fly lower. The next day they flew so low that they could hear voices.
"Look, look!" children cried in one village. "The ducks are carrying a frog!"
"Look, look!" adults cried in another village. "What a marvel!"
Do they know it was my idea, not the ducks' ?-thought the frog.
"Look, look!" the people cried in still another village. "Would you believe it! Who could have thought up such a clever idea?"
At this the frog could no longer contain himself, and throwing caution to the winds, he cried out at the top of his voice, "I! I did!" And with that cry he went hurtling down head over heels. The ducks shrieked, and one of them tried to catch the poor passenger in mid-air, but missed him. The frog dropped swiftly, kicking all four legs in the air. As the ducks had been flying at a great speed, he dropped not on the spot over which they had been shrieking and where there was a hard road, but much farther out, which was lucky for him, because he fell plop into a muddy pond on the edge of the village.
"It was me! It was my idea!"
But there was not a soul around. Frightened by the sudden splash, the local frogs had all hidden themselves in the water. When they came out again they were surprised to see the new arrival.
rides wherever he wanted; of how he had visited the beautiful south, where everything was so lovely, where they had such wonderful warm swamps, and so many midges and all kinds of other edible creatures.
"I have just dropped in to see how you live," he said. "I shall stay with you till the spring, when my ducks will come back for me. I have let them go for a bit."
But the ducks never came back. They thought the frog had been killed in his fall and were very sorry for him.
1887