by Bob Hartman
The old man looked puzzled. ‘I have already told Hare,’ he said. ‘But I suppose I can tell you, too.’ And then he said that word: ‘Uwungelema.’
‘Thank you,’ panted Elephant. And then he hurried back down the mountainside.
He tramped. He trundled. He tromped. All the while repeating to himself that secret name: ‘Uwungelema, Uwungelema, Uwungelema.’ But, just like Hare, he was in such a hurry that he failed to notice the anthill. And he too stumbled – CRASH! – right into its side, knocking himself so silly that he, too, forgot the secret name.
‘This is ridiculous!’ roared Lion. ‘Is there no one who can remember a simple name?’
‘I can,’ said Tortoise quietly.
And the other animals just shook their heads.
‘Enough!’ roared Lion. ‘It looks as if I shall have to do it myself.’
So Lion hurried up the hill and talked to the old man. But on the way back he, too, stumbled into the anthill and staggered back to the others, having forgotten the name completely.
‘What shall we do now?’ moaned Giraffe.
‘I will go,’ said Tortoise, determined to help. And before anyone could say anything, he started up the mountain.
He did not hurry, for that is not the tortoise way. Instead, he toddled. He trudged. He took one small step at a time. And, finally, he reached the old man.
‘Please tell me the name of the magic tree,’ he said slowly, ‘for my friends are very hungry.’
The old man looked angrily at Tortoise. ‘I have already given the name to Hare, to Elephant and to Lion. I will say it one more time. But if you cannot remember it, I will not say it again!’
And then he spoke the word: ‘Uwungelema.’
‘Thank you,’ said Tortoise, as politely as he could. ‘I promise you that I will not forget.’ And he started back down the mountain.
He toddled. He trudged. He took one small step at a time, all the while slowly repeating, ‘Uwungelema, Uwungelema, Uwungelema.’ And when he came to the anthill, he simply wandered round it. For he was in no hurry. No hurry at all.
When he returned, the animals huddled round him.
‘Do you know the name?’ they asked. ‘Did you remember it?’
‘Of course,’ Tortoise smiled. ‘It’s not hard at all.’ Then he looked at the magic tree and said the word: ‘Uwungelema.’
Immediately, sweet, ripe fruit burst out from the magic tree’s branches and fell to the ground before the hungry animals. They hollered. They cheered. They ate till they were full – that day and the next and all through the terrible famine.
And, when the famine was over, they made Tortoise their new king. And they never laughed at him again.
Polly and the Frog
Polly had a very wicked stepmother. Her own mother had died when Polly was just a little girl. And the woman her father had married did not like Polly. Not one little bit. So she made Polly do the hardest jobs around the house. And if Polly did not do them perfectly, she was punished. As for Polly’s father, he loved the woman so much that he would do nothing to stop her.
One day, the wicked stepmother called for Polly. And, very sternly, she said, ‘Girl,’ (for she never called Polly by name) ‘take this sieve to the well, fill it with water, and bring it straight back to me.’
Polly knew this was impossible! For the sieve was full of holes and she could never fill it with water. No one could!
Polly said nothing. She just nodded her head and walked slowly to the well. But when she got there, all she could do was plonk herself down at the side of the well and weep.
‘Bar-durp,’ came a voice from inside the well. ‘Bar-durp. Bar-durp.’
Polly wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked down into the well.
And there was a frog – the biggest, fattest, friendliest frog she had ever seen.
‘Bar-durp,’ said the frog again. ‘You don’t look very happy, young lady. Can you tell me what’s the matter?’
‘It’s my stepmother,’ Polly sniffled, forgetting all those warnings about never talking to strange frogs. ‘She wants me to fill this sieve with water. It’s impossible, I know, but if I don’t do it she’ll punish me the minute I get home.’
‘It’s not impossible at all!’ the frog bar-durped. ‘I’ll tell you how to do it, if you’ll promise me one thing.’
‘Anything!’ Polly sobbed.
‘You must do everything I ask of you for one whole night! Bar-durp.’
Well, it seemed a strange thing to ask, but Polly was desperate. And besides, this frog didn’t even know where she lived.
‘All right,’ Polly agreed. ‘Now tell me, please.’
‘Bar-durp. Take some moss and some old leaves and jam them into the holes. Then the water won’t leak out.’
Polly did what the frog suggested and, sure enough, it worked!
‘Thank you!’ she smiled. ‘You’ve saved my life!’
‘Bar-durp,’ the frog smiled back. ‘Just remember your promise.’ And he did a fat bellyflop back into the water.
Polly hurried home, and her stepmother was so amazed that, for once, she didn’t even try to find something wrong with Polly’s work. But, later that night, as Polly was finishing her dinner, there was a knock at the door.
‘Polly,’ her father called. ‘There’s a frog here to see you.’
Polly swallowed the mouthful of food she was chewing, then rose slowly and walked to the front door. The fat, friendly frog was dripping all over the front mat.
‘So it’s Polly, is it?’ croaked the frog. ‘Nice name. Do you mind if I – bar-durp – come in?’
Polly minded very much. But she also remembered her promise. So she invited him in, and then added, very quickly, ‘But we’re in the middle of dinner.’
‘Oh that’s all right,’ the frog said, flicking out his fat tongue, ‘I could do with a snack, myself. Bar-durp.’
Polly returned to the dining-room with the frog hopping happily behind her. At first, her stepmother looked angry, and then a wicked smile slithered across her face. This was the perfect opportunity to make fun of her pretty stepdaughter.
‘Oh, I see you’ve found a new friend?’ she sneered. ‘He seems a perfect match for you.’
‘Bar-durp,’ said the frog. ‘It’s very hard to see down here. Could I hop onto your lap?’
What could Polly do? She had promised. So she picked the frog up (he was very slimy!) and put him on her lap.
The stepmother laughed. She giggled. She guffawed. This was very funny indeed.
Then the frog made his next request.
‘Your food smells very good. Bar-durp. Do you think I could have a bite?’
The stepmother was howling now. ‘Yes, yes!’ she laughed. ‘Let’s see you feed your little froggy friend!’
Polly sighed and shook her head. Then she scooped up a bit of her dinner and fed it to the frog.
‘MMMM,’ said the frog. ‘Delicious. Bar-durp.’
‘Perhaps the froggy would like a drink, as well,’ the stepmother teased.
‘No, thank you,’ the frog croaked. ‘But I do have one more request. I wonder if Polly would kiss me – right here on the cheek!’
The stepmother coughed, then choked, then shrieked with laughter.
Polly turned bright red.
‘I thought you were my friend,’ she whispered to the frog.
‘I am. Bar-durp. Trust me – friends keep their promises.’
‘So they do,’ sighed Polly. And she shut her eyes and kissed the frog on his green, slimy cheek…
But when Polly opened her eyes, the frog was gone! And in his place sat the most handsome young man she had ever seen!
‘You’ve done it!’ he shouted, leaping off her lap and dancing for joy. ‘You’ve broken the curse and now I’m free again! Will you come with me to my castle tonight and be my princess?’
Polly looked at her father and her stepmother. Her father looked amazed and the wicked stepmother was no longer laughing.
‘Yes,’ she said at last. ‘Yes, I will. I think I would like that very much. But what about them?’
‘Well,’ said the prince, as he stared at the stepmother, ‘we do have a great many wells and a kitchen full of sieves. I suppose we could use the help.’
‘No, please don’t worry,’ the stepmother muttered. ‘We’ll stay right here.’
‘Yes,’ her father agreed. ‘You two young people go off and enjoy yourselves.’
And so they did. Polly married the prince. They went to live in his castle. And the girl who kept her promise to a fat, friendly frog lived happily after after. Bar-durp.
Rabbit and Tiger Go Fishing
It was late, very late, and Rabbit sat by the side of the river, fishing. A night breeze blew. The river rippled gently by. And the moon shone in the water like a bright, yellow ball.
Suddenly, Tiger burst through the jungle leaves and breathed hot and heavy down Rabbit’s back!
‘I’ve got you now!’ he growled. ‘There is no way you can escape.’
Rabbit trembled. Perhaps this time Tiger was right. And then he saw the moon’s reflection in the water, and he had an idea.
‘Oh dear,’ he muttered, ‘you’ve come at a very bad time, Tiger. Do you see that cheese in the water, there? I was just about to pull it up from the bottom.’ And he pointed at the reflection of the moon!
Now if there was anything that Tiger liked to eat more than rabbit, it was cheese.
‘Let me have that!’ he growled again. And he snatched the fishing-rod from Rabbit’s paws. But when he pulled up the line, there was nothing on it.
‘See what you’ve done!’ Rabbit scolded. ‘In your hurry, you let the cheese get away. But I can still see it down there. Perhaps if you were to dive in and grab it with your strong claws…
‘Excellent!’ Tiger roared. ‘And when I return I shall have rabbit and cheese for supper tonight!’
So into the water he jumped. And, as soon as Tiger went ‘SPLASH!’, Rabbit scampered home.
He got free.
He got safe.
He got clean away.
And all Tiger got was… wet.
The Mouse Deer’s Wisdom
Once there lived a baker – a fat and wealthy baker – who baked the best cakes in the land. But this baker – this fat and wealthy baker – had a problem. So he went to see the king.
‘Your Majesty,’ the baker explained, ‘I have a problem. Next to my bakery, there is a little house. And in that little house there lives a little family – a mother, a father and two small children. They are poor, to be sure, but for many years now, day after day, they have freely enjoyed the privilege of smelling my wonderful cakes. Do you not think that they owe me just a little money for that pleasure?’
The king stroked his beard and thought. This was a difficult question, indeed. So he called his wise men and his magicians and his advisers and shared the problem with them. And soon they were stroking their beards too. No one had an answer.
‘I know what we must do,’ the king said finally, ‘we must send for the Mouse Deer!’
The Mouse Deer –who lived in the jungle near the king’s palace – was by far the wisest creature in the land. He had to be, you see, for he was also one of the smallest and would have been eaten up long ago were it not for his wisdom and wit.
One of the king’s advisers was sent to fetch the Mouse Deer and tell him the baker’s problem.
The Mouse Deer came at once. He bowed to the king. Then he grinned a sly grin, and said, ‘Your Majesty, I have considered the baker’s problem with great care. And now I have an answer: the baker must be paid!’
The surprised advisers looked at each other. But the baker could only smile.
‘What is more,’ the Mouse Deer continued, ‘because even the smell of his wonderful cakes is a pleasure fit for a king, the baker must be paid a king’s reward – a thousand gold pieces!’
The astonished advisers’ jaws dropped. But it was all the baker could do to keep from dancing. ‘Sadly,’ the Mouse Deer concluded, ‘this poor family cannot afford such a great sum. So I shall pay the baker myself – right here in court – if Your Majesty would be so kind as to lend me the money.’
The king stroked his beard again. He did not know what the little animal was up to, but he trusted him. So he told his treasurer to fetch a thousand gold pieces.
When the big bag of coins arrived, the Mouse Deer asked everyone to be seated.
‘We need to sure it’s all here,’ he said. And the Mouse Deer began to count.
‘One gold piece,’ he counted. Then he threw it on the marble floor so it rang like a little gold bell.
‘Two gold pieces,’ he counted. And that one rang against the floor as well.
‘Three, four, five gold pieces,’ he went on, throwing each one to the floor. And so he continued, all the way to a thousand, until the whole room rang with the jingling and the jangling of the coins.
When the Mouse Deer had finally finished, the baker jumped out of his seat, eager to scoop up his treasure. But before he could pick up even one piece, the Mouse Deer raised a tiny hoof.
‘Wait just a minute,’ he said. ‘There is no need for you to pick up these coins, for you have been paid already!’
The baker stopped and stared.
The king scratched his head.
The advisers all said, ‘Huh?’
And so the Mouse Deer explained, ‘You say that poor family owed you money for the pleasure of smelling your cakes, even though they never got to taste a single crumb. I say that I have paid you in the very same way. For, although you will never be able to spend even one of these gold coins, you have had the pleasure of hearing them being counted. Hearing the coins for smelling the cakes – it seems a fair trade to me.’
The baker turned to the king in anger, but all the king could do was smile.
‘It seems a fair trade to me, as well,’ he said. Then, without a smile, he added, ‘From now on, that poor family could do with less of your greed and more of your kindness.’
The baker lowered his head and bowed. Then he slipped sheepishly out of the palace, never to return.
The advisers applauded, the magicians marvelled, and the wise men cheered, ‘Hooray!’
And the Mouse Deer returned to his home in the jungle, still the wisest creature in all the land!
The Four Friends
It was evening. The long, hot day was over. And the four friends gathered by the water-hole.
‘Good evening to you all,’ called Raven, high in the branches of a tree.
‘I hope everyone is well,’ chirped Rat, as he crawled out of his hole in the muddy bank.
‘Very well, indeed,’ yawned Turtle, as he floated lazily to the water’s surface.
‘And very happy to be among friends,’ added Goat, as she bent down to take a drink.
The four friends talked and laughed and played by the water’s edge. Then they went their separate ways for the night, promising to return the next evening.
But when the next evening came, someone was missing.
‘Greetings, one and all,’ called Raven, high in the branches of a tree.
‘And how is everyone tonight?’ chirped Rat, as he crawled out of his hole in the muddy bank.
‘Very well, indeed,’ yawned Turtle, as he floated lazily to the water’s surface. But when it was time for Goat to speak, Goat was not there!
‘Perhaps she’s late,’ called Raven, flying down to join the others.
‘Perhaps she’s with her family,’ suggested Rat, pacing back and forth in front of his hole.
‘Perhaps she’s met the Hunter!’ cried Turtle, as he pulled his worried face deep into his shell.
‘Well, if that’s the case,’ said Raven, ‘I must go and look for her. We’re four friends, right? And we have promised always to help each other.’
So off Raven flew, high above the jungle.
He looked left and he looked right.
He looked
high and he looked low.
And finally he found what he was looking for – his friend Goat, trapped in the Hunter’s net.
‘Help me. Please help me!’ Goat cried. ‘The Hunter has gone off to check his other nets, but when he returns he will kill me.’
Faster than he had ever flown before, Raven darted back to the water-hole.
‘This may hurt a little,’ he explained to Rat. ‘I am going to pick you up with my claws and carry you to Goat. She is trapped in the Hunter’s net and only your sharp teeth can set her free.’
So Raven grabbed Rat with his sharp claws and carried him over the trees to Goat.
Rat had never been so frightened. But when he saw his poor friend, he forgot all about his fear, and set to gnawing through the net.
Turtle, meanwhile, swam back and forth impatiently across the water-hole.
‘My friend is in trouble,’ he muttered to himself, ‘and I must do what I can to help.’
So he climbed out of the water-hole and trundled slowly across the jungle floor, in the direction that Raven had flown.
‘Hurry!’ cried Raven, watching carefully for the Hunter’s return. ‘He could be back any minute!’
‘I’m chewing as fast as I can,’ mumbled Rat through a mouthful of net. ‘But these ropes are strong.’
Raven watched.
Rat chewed.
Goat strained against the net and finally, with a SNAP, she was free!
Just then, there came a rustling noise from the bushes behind them. The three friends froze with fear!
‘Hello, everyone,’ puffed Turtle, breathlessly. ‘What can I do to help?’
‘Turtle!’ cried Raven. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘We’ve already set Goat free,’ Rat explained. ‘And now it’s time for us to run.’
‘But you are so slow,’ moaned Goat. ‘However will you get away?’
‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ announced Raven, ‘for here comes the Hunter!’
The Hunter burst through the undergrowth, and the four friends set off in all directions. Raven took to the air. Rat scurried under a log. Goat raced off across the jungle. But all poor Turtle could do was pull in his legs and hope that the Hunter would not see him.
