THE DEATH OF A DOG

Unni sat in the living room waiting impatiently for his aunt to stop talking. She had been talking all about herself for more than an hour. She talked without stop about herself, her baby-son, and her ailments. As the appointed time for the meeting with the King approached, Unni began to feel restless. He knew that the king would be displeased if he was kept waiting.
Fortunately for Unni, the telephone rang and the lady rushed to it. Slipping out of the back door, he ran to the wood shed. He whistled three notes as usual, and His Majesty the King appeared before him promptly, from where Unni did not see.
When they had greeted each other, Unni asked the King whether he knew any of the domestic animals like dogs and cattle.
“Of course I do,” said the king,“Even during my life in the woods, I used to meet a number of domestic animals. Most of them lack the purity of the animals in the woods. Still many of them were brave and broad hearted.”
“Will you tell me a story about one of your domestic animal friends?” Unni begged of his royal friend.
“Yes,” the King said, “Today I’ll tell you the story of Tiger, the dog.” And he proceeded to tell the boy a most moving story.
In the north of Kerala, close to the foothills of the Western Ghats, there lived a young farmer. He had been rich and powerful until bad days began to hunt him down. Adverse climate played havoc with his crops. Moreover, there was a steep fall in the price of his produces. Immersed in debt, the farmer began to be hunted by his creditors.
He had no choice other than disposing of his assets including large estates in the country and buildings in nearby towns.
To make matters worse, his wife died of cancer after a prolonged and painful period of hospitalization.
The young widower now lived in a small cottage on a tiny piece of land with his two little children. There was no servant in the house and in the place of prosperity and laughter, gloom and poverty reigned over his home. All his friends and relatives had abandoned him in the same speed in which he had lost his wealth and properties.
The only friend left was Tiger, his faithful dog.
The ruin of his master made him quite unhappy. After the death of his mistress, days of poverty invaded the once happy home like unclean spirits. It pained Tiger to watch helplessly, when his master rebuked and thrashed the children very often.
Besides Tiger, there was a cat in the household. Though beautiful, Kurinji, the cat, was self-willed and vane. It was long since the two animals had spoken to each other.
The reason for the estrangement was very simple. One day, Tiger had seen the farmer whipping his son for standing on the sofa with muddy shoes. Barely fifteen minutes later, in came Kurinji after an expedition in the rain and began to lick her coat of fur, lying peacefully on the sofa. Little wonder, Tiger grew enraged. In rushed Tiger, and at Kurinji, barking angrily. The frightened cat made her escape by climbing up into the attic.
Some months had passed and now Tiger wanted desperately to talk to the cat. But she would always take to her heels as soon as the dog approached her. Tiger followed her in vain in the courtyard and in the garden. The beautiful cat never paused or as much as looked at the dog.
At last, Tiger found the fair cat sitting on the beam of the verandah at the rear of the cottage.
“Kurinji!” called Tiger as softly as he could.

The cat opened her left eye and watched the dog. Then she closed it and opened her right eye, and, after a while closed it also. After a few minutes she opened both her eyes together a bit and gazed at the dog, standing below, looking up.
“What do you want?” she asked him quite curtly.
Tiger was quite enraged to see how rude she was but he restrained himself with a great effort.
“I would like to have a few words with you on something urgent and important,” Tiger said with all the politeness he could muster.
“Yes…?” she said.
“We live under the same roof like strangers. This isn’t good,” he said. “Let’s forgive and forget and fight the common enemy.”
The cat looked at the dog with a mixed feeling of curiosity and mistrust.
Tiger explained her briefly the great danger the family was facing.
The position of the farmer was quite precarious, he said. He did not have money even to buy food. Of the vast properties he had had, nothing was left except the small piece of land on which the cottage stood. He had planted a few hundred tapioca plants around the house. In September, when the incessant rains stopped, and the sun shone once more, he hoped to sell the roots and manage the affairs.
But a group of rats had come to the tapioca garden. There were pig rats and tunnel rats among them. Tiger had managed to kill some of the pig rats and scare away most of the others. But he had been quite helpless with the tunnel rats that always lived and operated from underground.
If the cat helped him, he said, he could save the plants and thus the farmer and his children.
“Otherwise something might happen to the darling children,” Tiger’s voice quivered as he spoke.
But the cat had a different view. She said, “We don’t have the responsibility of safeguarding the farmer and his crops. But it is his duty to look after us. At any rate, I’m not his servant, but his honored guest. I kill every house rat and cockroach. In return what he gives me is a morsel of rice and a few drops of milk. As for the children, they are, both of them, naughty. The brat once pulled my tail. I gave her something she is not likely to forget very soon.
“As soon as I find that the farmer can’t feed me, I’ll leave the place immediately. There is any number of decent people in this world who would warmly welcome a good looking cat.”
Tiger was at a loss. If Kurinji did not help, the rats would plough up the garden in a few weeks.
There would be nothing left for the children to eat. The farmer would be forced to sell his cow to meet the urgent expenses of the household…. The little darling children would starve…
“Your attitude isn`t correct,” said Tiger after a while, “Besides, consider how the cats in the neighborhood would think of you. Even now most of them are envious of you. A beautiful female is always viewed with envy by the women folk around. I won’t forgive them if they laugh at you. ‘She is certainly pretty, all right. But she is afraid of even a mouse. It’s better to be brave and practical minded than to be a pretentious and good for nothing doll of a cat…’ This would be the sample talk between two females when they meet.”
Kurinji sat up. Her eyes blazed and the velvet hair on her back bristled up.

“They would talk ill of me, would they? Sir, where are the rats? I’ll show them whether I am a good for nothing-pretentious girl…” she said with emotion.
Together they went to inspect the garden. The dog showed his fair friend the moll hills and holes from which the tunnel rats operated.
“I’ll manage the rats, don’t fear.” Kurinji assured her canine friend.
At the end of a week Kurinji had caught and killed as many as forty tunnel rats. What was left of the army of rats that had come invading the garden were a handful of tunnel rats and a few pig rats that lived under a boulder.
Tiger was happy that his struggle against the rat menace was approaching success.
One day Tiger was keeping vigil near the hole of the pig rat under the boulder. The red nose of a rat appeared at the mouth of the hole and Tiger was astonished to hear a deep voice addressing him.
It said, “I’d like to have a few words with you Mr. Tiger!”
It was for the first time in his life that a rat was speaking to him!
“Whatever might be the topic?” Tiger asked contemptuously.
“You have an accomplice, the beautiful cat. Let her also come, I have something important to tell you,” said the rat.
“There is no need for any talk,” said the dog, “As soon as you come out of the hole, I’ll kill you, that’s all.”
“Admittedly you are an outspoken fellow,” said the rat, “But I must say that you are an upcountry dog who has seen little of the world. You have wasted your life licking the boots of a worthless man. Have you ever heard of the organized move of the animal world against the human race? Come at five. Don’t forget to bring that fair cat of yours.
“We try to destroy the tapioca garden. You two try to annihilate us. I’ll convince both of you that what you are doing is a great crime. If, on the other hand, you can convince us that we are involved in a sinful scheme, we’ll leave the garden today itself.”
A dismayed Tiger left the garden to look for Kurinji. When he found her, he reported to her the strange conversation he had had with the big pig rat.
The two domestic animals arrived at the appointed place well in advance. The delegation of the rats made their appearance sharply at five.
The pig rat began to speak without any introduction or even greeting the two.
“We had reports from the house rats living in hiding in your attic that there was scarcity of food in your house. We also gathered that the ruined farmer would commit suicide if the tapioca crop were destroyed. If a man and his offspring are removed from the face of the earth, that would be a great victory for the animals.”
“What harm has our master done to you?” asked Tiger in a voice choking with emotion.
“I’ll tell you,” said the pig rat. “We don’t have any ill will for your master or any other man. But haven’t you thought of the cruelties that the human race is committing against the beautiful earth, the home of us all? How beautiful she used to be! Once she looked like a big garden. Everywhere, there were big lush green trees and rivers filled with, clear, cool water. The oceans lay majestically in which floated the continents and islands, like chunks of butter in a tumbler full of milk. And above was the sky bluer in colour than the oceans below.
“The woods and jungles man has cut down. He has polluted the sacred rivers, the arteries of life that Mother Earth proudly sustained. He has wiped out the organic diversity, both on land and at sea. He has dug great pits on the breast of his mother. He has piled up weapons capable of destroying the earth many times over.
“If we don’t check him even now, this unique planet in the wilderness of barren globes will be reduced to a single desert very soon.
“There are so many reasons that could wipe out the last throb of life and the last spot of beauty from the face of Mother Earth. Each of these causes has been the making of man. For example, the blanket of air over us has a thin outer lining called the ozone layer. This thin lining protects the life on this planet from harmful rays coming from the outer universe. Man and his greed have ruptured even this protective layer.
“The only enemy of life on earth, you see, is man. In order to wipe out the human race so that life may continue to flourish on the earth, a world organization has been formed. Rats, insects, ants, bacteria, virus and flies, are some of the members of this organization.
“The only animals unaware of this great and historic movement are those like you who live deep in the country.”
“Why does man commit all these crimes and sins?” asked Kurinji.
“Man is by nature selfish,” said the rat. “Pleasure - that is his only aim in life. Who else but man could cut the arms of a tree that not only gives him food, but also enriches the air with oxygen? He believes that Mother Earth with all her beauty and diversity was created for him. Do you know what he calls himself? - The Crown of Creation! What a paradox! He should be actually called the Error of Creation.”
“Can you tiny animals hope to destroy man?” asked Kurinji who was not fully convinced.
“We are commissioned to destroy him. This is, I admit, a long process. We will cause havoc to agriculture, spread diseases, and cause famines. Anyway, man is digging his own grave by destroying the forests, polluting the air and water and exterminating many plants and animals. We are here to accelerate his doom. Let’s act together against this unscrupulous enemy of all life on earth and wipe out the last man from the face of Mother Earth.”
“I can’t agree with you,” said Tiger although he was greatly dismayed at what he had heard. “My primary loyalty is to my master and his children. I never think whether he is right or wrong. I would be his faithful servant rather than his judge.”
“Dogs are, by nature, bootlickers of man,” shouted the rat angrily, “Besides you are a blockhead. The day when your master and his children are eaten by worms, is not far off.”
This was too much for Tiger. He rushed at the rat roaring angrily but the rats had vanished into the hole.
Left to themselves, the dog and the cat sat on their haunches, still staring at each other.
“The rats and their organization work for a noble cause,” said the cat at last. “I would like to see the last man dead so that life may continue to prosper on this planet of ours.”
Tiger squatted in the garden, frozen like a statue and watched the fair cat walk out of the garden.
It began to rain and Tiger went back home. At the verandah of the cottage he lay looking out at the curtain of heavy rain pouring down, and he dozed off.
In his sleep he dreamed. Some of the figures he saw were vague but some were strikingly clear.
He was lying at the feet of his master. Besides his master there were a group of able-bodied men and women all sitting around and talking and laughing.
The place was a riverbank full of golden sand. A number of children were playing on the sand, all of them naked but beautiful. The grownups too, were scantily dressed but all of them were sturdy and handsome.
Not far away, a herd of deer came and drank from the river. Downstream, a large herd of elephants was in the river. Soon the herd of deer was running past them in panic. Looking up, Tiger saw a tigress and three of her cubs. They too, must have come to drink from the river.
Tiger woke up and realized that the scene was from a period fifteen thousand years back when man lived in harmony with his environment, respecting all forms of life around him.
Tiger dozed off again and he had another dream.
This time, he was walking aimlessly along the bank of a river. The water was thick and black like molten tar. The trees had their branches black and drooping as though there had been a fire. There was a horrible stink in the air, and the vision appeared to him as though through a haze. Tiger saw two little children plodding on along the riverbank, tired and frightened. Suddenly from behind a man appeared, and killed both the children with a chopper. A haggard looking woman appeared on the scene. She said with a malicious gleam in her eyes, “Sufficient for a day!” There was a glow of wickedness on her horrible face.
Tiger woke up with a loud bark. Although it was only a dream, the terror did not leave him for several minutes.
Now the sound of something moving in the tapioca garden fell on his ears. Barking loudly, he rushed to the garden. Inside the garden, his bark turned into a whimper, for he saw there a herd of swine plowing up the garden. Some of the pigs were so big and ferocious that even a tiger would think twice before taking on them.
Tiger retreated whimpering, with his tail between his legs. He could easily see that the swine had taken up what the rats had failed to accomplish.
The faithful dog rushed to the cottage and began to paw and bark at the door. But despite his frantic efforts, the master would not wake up! He had gone to bed heavily drunk and the agonizing realization came to him that he would not be able to awaken his master before the swine completed the operation.
Tiger sat staring into the garden steeped in darkness and baying miserably.
A beetle flying past him heard his miserable groans and stopped.
“Why are you so unhappy my friend?” asked the insect.
“Don’t you see the swine plowing up the tapioca garden? However hard I tried, my master would not wake up!” Tiger said miserably.
“This is the part of the organized move against man,” said the beetle, “I am myself a member of the organization. The target assigned to me this year is to destroy ten coconut trees.
“If everything goes well, the human race will be wiped out in ten or twenty years. We get help from all sides. Strangely enough, man renders us more help than that from all the others put together.”
“Man! Would he be a part in the plot against himself?” asked the dog in dismay.
“I’ll explain,” said the insect. “Man massacred frogs, and the result was the increase in the number of insects. He killed almost all the snakes, and rats multiplied. The tigers were hunted down and swine go unchecked. The drains were filled with dirty water and mosquitoes bred in millions. The birds that preyed on insects were all killed and we people have now a field day. He has cut down trees apparently of no use and the fertility of the soil has vanished.”
“Doesn’t man have any way to save himself?” asked the dog with emotion.
“No my friend, no,” replied the insect, “What he eats is food poisoned by himself. What he thinks is evil. Pleasure is his only god. He has half destroyed Mother Nature, mother of all life on the earth, perhaps in the entire universe. Nature has abandoned her wayward child. Let’s destroy him before he destroys this beautiful earth which is the home and paradise of all life.”
Next morning, when the master opened the front door, he found his faithful dog lying dead on the verandah. The vet who examined him said that he had died of a broken heart.

THE RATSNAKE AND THE FROGS

One day when Unni ran into the woodshed, the King had been waiting for him for a few minutes.

"I was engrossed playing with a frog," Unni said apologetically.

"And how did you befriend the frog?" asked the King without any displeasure for his delay.

"I haven't befriended him yet," Unni said. "Whenever he surfaced I would throw stones at him. He is very dexterous and would dodge and vanish."

“It is a cruel sport, I am afraid,” said the King, “Suppose you hit him on the head?”

Unni felt ashamed of himself and assured his royal friend that he would avoid such cruel pleasures in future.

"Frogs aren’t intelligent creatures, I suppose," Unni remarked, "Still it was cruel of me to have tried to hit a frog with a stone."

The King said, "Frogs are certainly very intelligent. You will realize it when you have heard the story of Cheraman, the rat snake, and frogs."

Unni sat up with his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm and the King began another marvelous story.

The Lotus Pond was in the rocky regions of the Western Ghats. All around the large pond stood steep, rocky, mountains that became very hot in the merciless tropical sun. Therefore, no snakes could ever live in the surrounding region. So, the frogs in the pond lived without fear of snakes, their natural enemies.

The pond was full of lotus plants and thousands of lotus flowers would put out their heads above water during the day and this made the frogs not only happy but lovers of the Arts.

The frogs of the Lotus Ponds were famous singers and reputed athletes. They could sing classical pieces as well as popular film songs with a high degree of excellence. The reason why the pond never went dry even in the most merciless summer was due to this gift of the frogs. If the rains delayed, they would sing hymns and songs in chorus praising Varuna, the god of rains. Clouds would immediately race to the region and a heavy downpour would follow.

Frogs from very far off places would come to the Lotus Pond with the request to sing for them, so that they too might get plenty of rains.

In athletics also the inhabitants of the Lotus Pond had many records to their credit. In the International Frog Meets the citizens of the Lotus Pond would bag a number of medals every year.

Now, as the frog community lived on peacefully at the zenith of fame and prosperity, something happened which shook the Frog Republic to its very foundations.

A large rat snake that had somehow made its way to the cool and beautiful banks of the pond was the villain.

Cheraman, the rat snake, began to hunt down the frogs in scores every day. The frogs feared to touch the banks of the pond. So frightened were they that they seldom came to the surface. In a few days, Cheraman had eaten up more than a hundred frogs. Among the killed frogs were famous singers and gifted athletes. An emergency meeting of all the frogs was convened at the rocky islet in the middle of the pond to discuss the matter.

The Chief of the frogs, Mr. Thakaram Parambil Raman Kesavan, like his remarkable name, was a distinguished gentleman. He addressed the scared and grief stricken citizens of the Republic.

He said, "In the whole history of the Lotus Pond, there has never been a tragedy like this. At this rate, Cheraman will eat up every citizen in the republic. We should not allow this. We are here to discuss how this villain can be eliminated and the frog community saved from total extermination."

Nobody spoke up. The women folk, who were naturally talkative, did not utter a single syllable but silently wept.

After a long while, a young frog rose to speak. He said, "We should attack the snake in large numbers. A thousand frogs can overpower and kill a snake."

The Chief remarked that, although he valued the courage of the young fellow, he did not think the idea practicable.

Then an old frog came up with another suggestion, "We must leave this place forever. The Lotus Pond is no longer a safe place for us. Let's go to the Lily Pond. Our friends and kinsmen there will receive us with honor and give us asylum."

The Chief ruled out this proposal immediately. He said, when one was prosperous, his friends would receive him with honor, but as a fugitive the same treatment could not be expected.

Yet another frog, a chemist by profession, proposed that snake repellents should be collected from the surrounding rocks and sprayed around the pond. This would drive away the snake.

Everybody including the Chief was skeptical about the feasibility of the scheme, but the scientist was asked to work out a detailed plan urgently.

Now, Little Sankar, a boy frog who had shed his tail only a few months back, stood up. Although his mother and aunts tried to pull him back, the Chief reprimanded them and said, "Let Little Sankar speak!"

Little Sankar had a very detailed plan to do away with the snake menace, once and for all.

He said, "As we are no match to the snake in strength, we must seek the help of somebody else. Only one thing- the friend should not be one with evil interests in us. Otherwise after killing the snake, he may turn to us."

"Explain your plan shortly!" said the Chief impatiently.

The boy frog began to unfold his plan. "Not far from the pond, there is a colony of ants. If the ants agree to help us we can kill the snake," he said.

"Have you ever heard the ants killing a rat snake?" asked a middle-aged frog contemptuously.

“No interruptions!” cried the Chief. He warned that nobody should speak before Little Sankar had finished.

The little frog continued, "As we know, Cheraman always sleeps coiled under a slanting slate like boulder. One end of the rectangular piece of rock stands rooted in the soil. If the soil is removed from the bottom, the boulder will fall. If the snake is in the cave when the boulder falls, he will perish. Even if he is not killed, he cannot find such a cool resting place anywhere in the neighborhood.”

"I agree that the ants can remove the soil around the boulder," said the Chief, "But how will you befriend the ants?"

Little Sankar said that if the Chief permitted him he would right away beseech the help of the ants.

After going into the plan in detail, it was found feasible and was therefore, accepted.

In appreciation of the wisdom and discernment shown by him, Little Sankar was, then and there, conferred Thavala Sree similar to the Knighthood of the English.

This title is often conferred on old and decaying frogs and the boy frog was the youngest person in the history of the Lotus Pond who ever received this title. His mother rose up on all her fours and expanded her body on the occasion.

The services of four of the ablest frogs were placed at his disposal with immediate effect. The little group, landing on the west bank of the pond, immediately set out to the capital of the King of Ants.

Outside the palace the guards stopped their way to the King. But, Little Sankar, lifting up a fat earthworm, declared, "Bear in mind that it is an offense to stop the friends of His Majesty, the King."

This brave declaration had the desired effect. A messenger hurried in and returned without much delay and took the delegation inside to the august presence of the King.

Bowing to the King elaborately according to the court etiquette, the young frog presented the earthworm to the King. The King curtseyed in the most studied ant manner and gave them each a pot of honey.

The King of Ants had heard much about the singers among the frogs and he expressed his desire to hear a song from the group.

But, Little Sankar informed the King that they were full of tragic memories and grief that they were unable to play the fine tunes.

The King asked Little Sankar what made his friends, the frogs so unhappy.

Little Sankar described in the most touching manner, the tragedy that had befallen the citizens of the Republic of Frogs whereupon the King inquired whether the ants could render the frogs any help.

Little Sankar unfolded a lotus leaf in which was given a detailed plan of the Lotus Pond and its surroundings. He informed the King that, if the boulder that shielded the home of the rat snake was uprooted, the rat snake would perish under it. This would save the Republic and its frogs from ruin.

After consulting the matter with his ministers and engineers, the King placed two divisions of his prestigious engineering corps at the disposal of Little Sankar.

Praising the King for his generosity, the team returned home.

The Royal Engineers examined the boulder and, after some experiments, informed Little Sankar that the plan would work. They saw that the boulder was supported by the surrounding soil, hardly a foot deep. The commander of the forces calculated that the boulder would fall in six hours, twelve minutes, and twenty-four seconds.

The Chief of the frogs considered the possibility that the snake might be out of his cave at the time when the boulder fell. But the frogs could not afford to wait for another day as it involved the lives of so many frogs.

"Cheraman will be inside his cave when the boulder falls!" Little Sankar assured the Chief.

The ant forces started their work. Little Sankar stationed a batch of frogs on top of the boulder. They were instructed to reach the pond in one hop passing the mouth of the cave and inform him and the Chief of the latest developments.

After half an hour a frog reached the pond with the information that the work was progressing as scheduled.

Not knowing anything about the frantic work going on outside his cave, Cheraman slept on peacefully.

At last he woke up, yawned and glanced down into the pond below. It wasn't yet three O'clock, and the sun was still hot. Besides, the rocks would take some more time to cool down. Crawling on the hot surface of the rock might cause blisters on the body. After all, why should he make any haste? At dusk the frogs would come to the bank in twos and threes. Three or four of the fat guys would be more than sufficient for a day. He could swallow thirty or forty frogs at a time - that was another matter.

Cheraman still marveled at his good fortune. In his native village he was really starving. He might catch a lizard or a rat occasionally after wandering miles and miles. On most days he had to go to bed with an empty stomach.

It was to catch the rascal of a rat that he had entered an old hole. The hole branched and re-branched at every few feet and he could not trace the cunning rat. At last Cheraman lost his way in the maze of so many holes. In despair, he wandered for very long without aim. At last he spotted a tiny speck of light that he saw was sunlight. He emerged from the hole with relief and lo! He was on the banks of the famous Lotus Pond!

There was any number of frogs you pleased in the pond. And you could live in peace without the bother from other snakes or the mongoose. Eat to the fill and go to sleep!

Cheraman planned to return home in the following week and take with him his lean wife and anemic children to the Lotus Pond. Within one week she would regain her old beauty and the children would grow fat and plumb.

It was amazing how the fox, after examining certain lines on his tail, had foretold that great fortune was in store for him around forty! He had assured that this unusually bright period would last very long.

While Cheraman was daydreaming, Little Sankar received another message. It said that deep at the root of the boulder there was a stone and more work than anticipated would be required to floor the boulder. At least two more hours would be required to attain the goal.

Putting out his head, the snake watched the surroundings. No frog could be seen anywhere. He would have to take the plunge, he saw. He began to crawl out of the cave.

Cheraman noticed a frog flying over his head to the pond. The frogs had been watching him and he smiled to himself.

The frogs hopped into the water one by one and the Chief and our young hero realized that the boulder was about to fall.

But alas! The snake had crawled out of the cave, only the tip of his tail remained inside.

Little Sankar boldly hopped onto the bank. Cheraman saw a boy frog advancing in his direction. Why should he eat up a boy frog when there was any number of fat old ones available? Let him grow bigger, he thought.

Little Sankar had believed that the snake would follow him to the cave. But to his great disappointment, the snake ignored him altogether. But the snake had halted for a while surprised at the boldness of the boy-frog.

Now Cheraman felt something biting his tail. It was the audacious frog, Cheraman realized, and it angered him. He had spared the tiny fellow, but he was biting him on the tail. He hissed fiercely and turned to the cave.

But as the snake's head advanced towards him, Little Sankar hopped to the interior and the snake followed him angrily.

Little Sankar heard a cracking sound and he was sure that the boulder was about to fall. He had no time to lose. He hopped out of the cave above the coiled body of the snake. The boy-frog made the risky exit all right. As he hopped out, he heard the boulder fall on the snake with a thud.

But a sharp edge of the boulder in its fall had touched little Shankar on the head and it had caused a deep wound. The boy frog fell down on the bank of the pond and the Chief and the others crowded around him. The doctor, after examining the wounded hero, looked at the Chief in meaningful silence.

Little Sankar opened his big eyes and looked at the Chief and his mother who stood close to him. He tried to smile but his face became distorted with a great pain.

He said to the Chief, "There must be a hole opening to the banks of the pond from the valley below. If you locate it and close it with the help of the ants, our Republic will not be threatened like this again."

His voice choked and mist covered his eyes. A great agony convulsed him and he closed his eyes and closed them forever.

To this day, you can see frogs that come from far off places to pay homage to the young frog who sacrificed his life so that his fellow frogs might live in peace.

THE BALD HEADED CROW

One day when the King of Ants met Unni, he noticed that the boy was not in his usual spirits. The King could easily guess there was something wrong with him.
The King said, "My dear friend, tell me what's ailing you. I clearly see that you are quite unhappy."
Unni remained silent. The King urged him to speak out and he offered his friend to cure him of his unhappiness in a few minutes.
Unni said reluctantly, "At school my friends tease me. They say I have a very big nose and they have nicknamed me 'Big Nose'. I examined my nose in the glass and what they say is quite true. My nose is three times as big as a normal one. Even you, wise as you are, can't make my nose smaller and slenderer."
The King smiled and said, “My dear Unni, please don't worry about your big nose. In fact, a big nose is a symbol of greatness. I assure you that you will become a great man when you grow up. Now, when you have heard the story I am going to tell you, I am sure you will cease to be unhappy about your big nose."
Unni sat up and his eyes sparkled. He asked, "Your Majesty, what story are you going to tell me?"
"The story of Lukose, the crow," the King said and he began another story.
In a village in Kerala, close to the foothills of the Western Ghats, there lived a murder of crows. The strength of the murder was not very impressive. Their number was only one hundred and fifty or so.
Among them there was a young crow called Lukose. Such human names are not usual among crows. But, when he was hatched, his mother insisted that he should be named after the MLA for the region. She had never met anybody, man or crow, who could speak as loudly as Lukose. During the hustings there would be meetings near the temple and Lukose would address the local public. Lukose would thunder and the ladies were always impressed. In fact a loud speaker was a superfluous instrument for him. The amazing vocal capacity helped him to beat his opponents in election after election. Once he crossed floor and became a minister in the cabinet. The most remarkable step he took during his office was to prohibit loud speakers in public meetings.
In the end the strange name became a menace to our hero. As his pals poked fun at him nicknaming him MLA, minister, and leader, Lukose the crow, would get angry. The angrier he became the more the youngsters of his age teased him. In course of time Lukose shunned all company and began to live practically in social isolation.
At this time something that shook him to his very soul took place. His mother discovered that there was a tiny spot, the size of a small coin, on his head where there was no hair.
For a while Lukose concealed the spot with his long hair. But the desert spread fast to the other regions of his singularly large head. Lukose, the MLA, was bald headed, his friends recalled, and there was yet another weapon for his deriding pals to tease him.
Lukose met the local doctor of the crows and sought medical advice. The doctor said, "Even among human beings there is no remedy for baldness and jealousy. But just try this oil."
On applying the medicated oil the doctor gave the rest of the hairs on his head fell off and Lukose now boasted the only bald head in the crow community. Besides, the oil rendered the bald head a dazzling shine.
Lukose wouldn't as much as talk to his friends now and he avoided them as far as possible. Without any fun and little inclined to play he shut himself in a corner. He ate very little and grew short tempered. A sort of restlessness haunted him during the day and he enjoyed little sleep at night. Lukose began to fear that he was on the verge of some mental disorder.
The mother crow began to worry. She had named him after Lukose, the politician, with the best of intentions. As a boy his head was unusually large and his beak was as strong as iron and he had an unbelievably loud voice. Now that he had developed an amazingly splendid bald head, Lukose, the crow, showed all the physical qualities that made Lukose, the politician, distinguished. Instead of becoming an orator and leader, her son would brood in isolation away from the murder without any social intercourse or playfulness usual to his age. The crow-mother prayed and prayed and made numerous offerings to all the churches and temples she knew. But they were of no avail.
One day Lukose was perching on the branch of a vaka tree. On the branch just above him were sitting two young hens. They were the prettiest females in the murder and were praised as much for their musical voices as for their loveliness. Lukose listened to what the beauties were saying, though he pretended not to see them.
They were talking about attending the marriage feast at the Councilor's. The Councilor's son was getting married and they felt they should go. Nangeli, one of the hens, said she was annoyed that there was no beauty clinic in the village.
Blacky, the other hen said they might go to the temple pond and do the make up themselves, looking in the clear water. "Why should we go as far as the temple pond?" said the other, "Don't you see Lukose down there? His head shines better than any mirror and you could see yourself quite beautifully."
Lukose felt as if a bomb had exploded right on his head. He sat still for a while and now flew to another tree. From behind the shrill laughter of the hens could be heard.
"There is no point in living on like this. First they were after the name. Now it is my head. Mother made a folly in giving me such a name and God has punished me with this desert of a skull. If one has no connection with the society around, it is equal to death. I haven't heard of any crow that has taken his own life. I have a human name and perhaps that's why I think like a man. I will take my life, there is no use living on like this. If you go to another place you can hide your name, but what about the head?" soliloquized our hero.
Without informing anybody else, even his mother, Lukose left the place that very day. Indeed, he felt very sad to leave the village where he was born and grew up. How deeply he loved the temple pond, the banyan tree and the river, he thought and he felt a lump rising in his throat. Still he would not go back. The essence of a place did not lie in its geographical features, but in the inhabitants, he reasoned.
Lukose flew for a very long time without stop, and under him he saw strange villages and towns, paddy fields, roads and railway lines. Still he did not feel exhausted and he felt very proud of his wings. Who else in the village, who among his tormentors, could boast of such a fine set of wings?
At last, as it was growing dark, Lukose decided to stop. He roosted on the branch of a huge banyan tree that grew on a great river.
Lukose was so tired that he immediately fell asleep. During his sleep he dreamt of his native land, the temple and the great anjili tree that had been his home for so long. All the beautiful crow hens in the village flew around him laughing, laughing at him derisively.
He woke up early in the morning like any other healthy crow. It was still very dark and it took a few minutes to realize that he was in a new place.
Very soon Lukose saw that the tree was the home of a murder of crows. He watched silently the groups of crows that were flying off to distant places in search of food.
Feeling that somebody was watching him from behind, he looked back.
He found an old crow perching not far from his branch. He was very small, his legs were thin and his color was turning to gray owing to his advanced age. But his eyes radiated a peculiar sparkle.
The old crow flew closer to Lukose and said in a tone full of tender love, "You are a stranger here, aren't you?"
Lukose shuddered when he thought the old crow's look was falling on his head.
"My home is very far away," replied Lukose.
"Why did you choose to travel alone?" inquired the old crow.
Lukose at once saw that the old crow's words conveyed more friendship than inquiry.
Lukose remained silent looking down to the leaf strewn ground far below.
"I can very easily understand that you are very sad. What's the matter? Have you people met with some great danger?" continued the old crow.
When the old crow pressed him Lukose told him his tale of woe - how he had been tormented by his friends, how the bald head had nearly driven him crazy, etc. He confessed that he had come away to take his life.
The old crow smiled and his smile was full of love and compassion.
"Come with me," the old crow said. Lukose could not refuse him for he was so nice and loving. Lukose followed him.
They moved in ways well covered and hidden by thick foliage. Lukose was surprised about the secrecy and hidden nature of the murder's dwelling place.
Finally the old crow pushed back a twig and they were in a large nest.
As the old crow and the stranger entered the place, the inmates - some twenty adults and as many youngsters - crowded around them noisily.
Lukose saw that every crow in the large nest was handicapped - broken winged, one legged, one eyed or seriously wounded.
The old crow whispered, "How happy these fellows are! Great Wing, though blind in both the eyes, hasn't thought of suicide. Valiant, though he has lost a leg, still loves life. In the society each has his place. They do whatever they can and live on without despair. How lucky you are in comparison! In this murder there is no crow as strong as you.
"Suicide is for fools and cowards. When Death comes, accept him. Don't go looking for him."
Lukose felt ashamed of himself and he began to view life from a new angle. Life was not for the brooding crow but for the active one.
He wanted to know how so many of the crows happened to be handicapped.
The old crow said, "Not far from here, on a mango tree on a hill top, lives a group of eagles.
"They would occasionally raid the banyan tree for stealing eggs from the crow nests. When the crows are out searching food they would surprise us in large formations. They would murder the guards, destroy the nests and drink up the eggs. There may be an attack at any time. Although the vigilance has been greatly improved, the eagles are always victorious," the old crow sighed.
The soldier in Lukose woke up. He had come away resolving to destroy his life. Now that the life of a large number of crows was in danger he thought it would be worth while to sacrifice it for a great cause.
"Can I join your murder?" asked Lukose hesitantly.
The Chief of the crows readily agreed and said that he would be an asset to their community and that they all would be proud to have him as one of their comrades.
In a week Lukose became acquainted with almost all the crows, male and female. In his turn he would join the forces that guarded the tree and at other times go out with the others. Nobody spoke ill of him or laughed at him and he felt quite at home among his new friends.
One day when Lukose was on guard duty with the other young crows, alarm was sounded. The eagles had arrived for another raid.
The guards put up a brave fight as usual. But Lukose adopted a different strategy. He flew high, higher than the eagles and the crows engaged in fight and singled out the leader of the enemies. Descending right on top of the big bird he attacked it on the head. The eagle lost its balance and altitude but Lukose held on firmly on the enemy's body. Seeing a downed eagle, a few other crows came to Lukose’s help.
Luckily for the eagle, he somehow regained balance and flew away deserting his fellows. The others, seeing what had happened to the leader, withdrew. Lukose and his friends could not kill any of the attacking enemies, but the message was clear.
The Chief and the others praised Lukose for the courage he showed in repulsing the enemy attack. Some believed that Lukose was sent by God to protect the crows from the eagles. Some crow mothers proudly named their young ones after Lukose.
Two weeks passed peacefully but the hope of peace was short-lived. The eagles invaded the Banyan tree, systematically killing a number of crows, including a few chicks.
In the evening the Council of War met and Lukose had been specially invited to the meeting. Lukose thanked the Council and especially the Chief for the rare honor.
The Chief asked Lukose to take over as Commander-in-Chief of the crow forces, and invited him to submit a feasible plan to successfully meet the eagle menace.
In a week's time Lukose submitted his plan to the War Council for approval. He said that there was no use in waiting for the enemy to attack. In a preemptive strike the enemy should be annihilated in his base itself. Once the enemy was destroyed the crows could live forever in peace. It was true that the eagles were stronger and swifter than the crows. But the crows could easily outnumber the eagles one to ten.
Although some of the senior members were skeptical about the idea, the Council, after prolonged discussions, authorized Lukose to go ahead and work out a detailed plan of attack.
In a week Lukose and his friends studied the enemy positions closely. Their system of defense, number of guards during the day, hiding places, the strength of each batch when they went out, etc. were closely watched. The eagles had practically no system of defense against enemy attack. It was not at all surprising to Lukose; at his own home the crows had to fear nobody and there weren't any regular forces or organized defense.
One day, by noon, the crows attacked the mango tree in great numbers. Everybody in the murder except the weak, handicapped and those who were posted to guard the banyan tree, took part in the operation.
The crows waited in the surrounding trees for the majority of the eagles to come home. As the unsuspecting eagles approached home in twos and threes the crows outnumbered each group and killed them. Lukose himself took on the eagle chief and soon the big bird fell dead. At dusk the victorious crow forces arrived home with but a handful of lives lost. The few eagles that had escaped massacre had fled to distant places. Their number was so small that even if they regrouped later on, they could not be a danger to the crow community any longer.
The crow hens vied with each other in courting Lukose, the great warrior and hero. Later he married the most beautiful maiden in the murder and lived happily. When the old Chief passed away, he was elected Chief of the crows.

THE BEES AND THE MONKEYS

Unni ran into the woodshed at the appointed time the following day and whistled three notes.
“Wow!” he cried as the King of Ants came up through the eye of a coconut shell.
“ I’m afraid, I don’t know anything of court manners and etiquettes,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” said the King, “etiquettes are artificial, innocent love is something more valuable.”
“A story?” reminded Unni.
“Okay,” the King said. "As a rule, we ants do not befriend anybody outside our clan. Ants are most practical creatures and we’ll have little time to waste meddling with the affairs of others, unless the activities of the other animals in the forest affect our interests."
"For example, when the beautiful garden planted jointly by the monkeys and bees was destroyed by fire, we made inquiries into the causes of the fire. And you could guess why. In the large garden, there were many ant colonies. Millions of ants perished in the great fire. Both the monkeys and the bees were almost exterminated."
"How did the fire start?" inquired Unni.
"Envy and greed cause many evils. This time it appeared in the form of fire.
It not only consumed their precious garden but killed almost everybody involved.”
While Unni sat engrossed, the King of Ants told him the story of the Bees and the Monkeys.
In a deep forest in the Western Ghats in Kerala there lived a clan of monkeys. They subsisted on roots, tender bamboo leaves and fruits - and fruits were very scarce in the forest.
There used to be frequent quarrels among the monkeys – mostly on account of fruits. These incessant quarrels became a headache to the Chief of the monkeys. He would have a dispute or two to settle every day and most of these were about fruits. ‘The neighbor stole some plantain fruits, the wife ate up all the bananas meant for the entire family, the husband did not share jack fruits with his wife and children, the children ate pine-apples before they were ripe’ - these were some of the sample petitions the Chief received every day.
In the forest in which the monkeys lived there were very few fruit trees. The Chief knew that the quarrels were due to the scarcity of fruits rather than to the monkeys' ungodly love for food.
The Chief thought of many ways in which the problem could be solved. No animal in the forest knew agriculture. The swine, the deer, the bison and the elephants expressed their ignorance and helplessness. Besides, some of them laughed at the old monkey for his insatiable appetite for fruits.
Now the Chief remembered the bees. He knew that they were travelers and travel always improved the mind. The Chief decided to seek the advice of the bees.
At first the bees were very skeptical about the intentions of the Chief. But they were very soon convinced of the innocent ambition of the old monkey.
The bees informed the Chief that fruits were mostly found in villages. The farmers grew fruit trees and they would not let anybody steal fruits from their trees. In forests fruit bearing trees were very few and the demand for the few fruits was great.
"My monkeys should get a steady supply of fruits of different kinds. How can I ensure this?," asked the Chief.
Growing fruit trees was the only way, said the bees.
But the monkeys knew nothing about agriculture.
The Chief suggested that the monkeys and bees should jointly undertake the planting the fruit bearing trees.
The Queen of the bees said, "What help can we render in this matter? Agricultural operations involve a great deal of labor. Beds will have to be prepared, fertilization and irrigation will be required. We are tiny creatures and we can't share such hard labor."
The Chief said, "We shall manage all the labor. Your duty will be to report to us where the fruit bearing trees grow. We will collect the seeds and plant them. During your travels, you can learn much about agriculture that you may share with us monkeys. You people can build your hives in the plantation. We can't collect honey from flowers; so also you have no need for fruits. You can ward off the jungle thieves. Thus we will share fruit and honey and live peacefully in the large plantation that is in my mind."
Once the bees were convinced that they could be real partners with the monkeys, the bees readily agreed. They saw that they could collect honey from flowers without the bother for long trips especially during the rainy days.
The monkeys cleared a large area. They burnt the twigs and branches and planted different kinds of fruit bearing trees and plants according to the advice of the bees. They collected seeds from different places and grew them in plastic bags for a while. Then they transferred the plants to carefully prepared beds under the supervision of the bees.
When the other animals saw this strange venture, they laughed. But the monkeys did not so much as notice such derisive laugher.
As soon as the seeds sprouted the jungle thieves began to arrive in groups. The deer and hares came to taste the tender leaves. For elephants the plantain and banana leaves are choicest dishes. They also would flock in not only to see the unheard of project, but if possible to have a bite of plantains.
But the bees would not allow any body to enter the garden.
“Who are you to stop our way to the estate?" asked Tusker, the rogue bull elephant.
The bees replied, "The monkeys and the bees have jointly undertaken this enterprise. The task of protecting the plants is with us. Come in and you will catch it."
The bees advised the monkeys to fence up the plantation, for they were so annoyed by the numerous visitors and thieves. The monkeys did accordingly and they put up a notice board at the entrance:
TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED
The trees grew up very fast. Within a year the plantains and bananas gave out large bunches. The mango trees flowered in the third year and the jack trees and the tamarinds followed. The trees began to give the monkeys fruits and the bees honey.
The bees stopped going out except on jolly trips. The quarrels among the monkeys became things of the past.
The monkeys gave the surplus fruits to goats and cows in exchange of wool, milk or milk products. The swine and the porcupines would come with delicious roots to get fruits and nuts in exchange.
Thus the success in agriculture paved the way for a brisk trade. The monkeys became civilized. The days of poverty over, the monkeys had enough leisure for music and the arts.
But when the old Chief died, things began to change and change for the worse.
The old Chief had a vision and the bees had great respect for him. Occasionally they used to give him bottles of excellent honey - special honey extracted from selected flowers - as a token of their respect and goodwill.
But the young monkeys began to consider the gift from the bees to be their birth right. The new Chief and the elders in the monkey clan started demanding honey and this strained the relation between the partners.
The monkeys would try to steal honey from the hives. But the reaction of the bees was never so sweet as the honey they produced. The bees would punish the thief then and there. Such isolated incidents ended in widespread enmity between the two parties.
"It was we that planted the trees. The bees enjoy the honey. It is only fair that they should share the honey with us," said the monkeys.
The bees said, "It was we that guarded the estate from thieves. Besides we arrange the pollination of flowers free of charge. Above all, just think who taught the monkeys to plant trees. In the original unwritten agreement, the monkeys and the bees were partners with equal rights and status.”
One day a group of young monkeys, while trying to steal honey from a hive, was punished severely by the bees. As they fled from scene their faces had become so swollen that even their parents failed to recognize them at first. The angered monkeys, in retaliation, stoned the hives. Now the bees hummed out in great swarms and attacked the monkeys. The monkeys had to flee from their estate and take refuge in the forest.
After prolonged talks between representatives from both the sides a settlement was reached. The conditions of the truce were simple - fruits to monkeys and honey to bees.
But peace was short lived. The monkeys thought that they should exterminate the bees to ensure undisputed ownership of the estate.
The bees thought that if all the monkeys were killed they could live in peace for ever in the great garden.
The monkeys collected dried leaves, twigs and husks of coconuts and stored them near each hive. The bees discovered a deadly toxic material from a tree in the forest. The substance that flowed from the bark, if injected into a monkey's body, would kill it instantly.
In a summer evening some of the young monkeys stoned a hive. The bees attacked the monkeys with the poison they had collected and all the monkeys stung fell dead.
The bees attacked each and every monkey systematically with the poison. They were out to exterminate the monkey clan.
The monkeys lighted the hidden hoards of inflammable materials and the hives, without a single exception, burnt out in the raging fire.
The fire spread far and wide and the beautiful garden was reduced to ashes in a short time.
In a tree in the forest, not far away from the garden ruined by the fire of rivalry, assembled a group of bees who had flown out and saved their lives. They were deliberating what could be done now.
Underneath a group of monkeys also were found. Most of them had sustained severe burns and they were groaning in great pain.
An old monkey saw the bees above her hanging from a branch and she said, "This is the end of every war."

UNNI AND THE KING OF ANTS

Unni looked out of the window despairingly. In the garden outside the courtyard, he longingly saw the pit dug by Sankar, the servant. The pit was full of rainwater, reddish brown in color. It was for playing in this water that Mom beat poor Unni with a coconut stalk.

"Don't go outside today!" said Mom while helping him change his clothes.

It's awful fun playing in a puddle of rainwater. Throw a stone into it and the water will splash out like tongues of fire. Beat it with an atekka leaf and you can hear the sound of a cracker. Build a bund and the water will hesitatingly halt. Breach it and it will flow away with surging enthusiasm.

Mom had little wisdom, he thought. As for that matter, he hadn't so far seen any grown up sufficiently intelligent.

While Sankar was digging the pit Unni really wanted to help him. He was not at all pleased. When Pa saw the mud stains on the shorts and shirt he was angry.

Now Unni would have to wait till his brother arrived from school for a companion to play with.

There was no question of his going back to Mom in the kitchen. He was pretty cross with her, not for beating him, but for shutting him in.

His eyes wandered again to the puddle of water. A big frog with green lines on his body was sitting on the bank of the pit, and his eyes enlarged in wonder. He must have come to play in the murky water. Perhaps he came out when his mother wasn't looking.

A dog came running that way and the smart guy hopped into the water. No trace of him was to be seen any more. A really lucky fellow, Unni thought.

Unni stood watching for a little while but the frog did not surface. He wondered what the frog was doing under water.

He did not see anything interesting outside. On the rain-drenched grass in the garden, nothing, not even a grass hopper appeared.

He turned to go. Lexmy, the doll was lying on the floor. He kicked her and she flew in agony crying 'pee...e'. Was a kick such a great thing as to make a fuss about, Unni wondered.

He was planning to go back to Mom, when a most wonderful sight caught his attention.

A big ant! It was moving majestically from one corner of the room towards the door.

Not merely big, astonishingly big it was. He had never seen such a big ant in his entire life. Even Papa couldn't have seen such a big one.

His legs were long and slender and his head was big and round; besides he had a set of two brightly colored wings.

Unni didn't have to think much to guess who he was; none other than the King of Ants!

'Now let me capture the King!' Unni said to himself and he began to chase the King.

The King fled for dear life but Unni wouldn't give up. Unni saw that the King couldn't fly. His wings had only ornamental and decorative functions like the British Royalty.

The King ran, took sharp turns every now and then and made for the door. Unni followed him yelling with excitement.

The race lasted for nearly ten minutes. At last Unni caught the King and lifted him up in his hands. "How's that, Your Majesty!" he cried.

But the elation was short lived, for the King bit him in the hand and Unni jumped in great pain. His clasp loosened and the King slid down and in seconds vanished from sight.

Valiant as he was, Unni cried a little now. Whatever was the reason, the great King hadn't acted quite decently, Unni thought.

Unni massaged vigorously the spot where the King had bitten where a lump about the size of a coin appeared. Unni turned to the King quite angrily, "You will catch it!" he said indignantly.

But where was the King?

Unni examined every inch of the room, but no trace of the King could be discovered.

It was unbecoming of a King at any rate, Unni thought - to bite without warning and run away!

Unni looked for the King for a while more and abandoned the search. He took his slate and began to draw a crow.

As soon as he had completed the head of the crow he said, "My dear crow, have you seen the King of Ants?"

The half finished crow didn't reply and Unni thought, "How foolish of me to expect an incomplete crow to make an answer!"

Now Unni thought he heard a soft voice. Did someone call 'Unni'?

He went to the door and stopped suddenly. It wasn't Mom, for he could still hear the sewing machine. It wasn't his brother: the front door still remained closed.

Now the voice again! The soft and melodious voice calling out 'Unni, Unni.'

Going back, Unni looked out of the window into the garden. There was nobody in the garden.

He heard the voice again. Now he was sure that the voice came from within the room itself! But he couldn't see anyone inside the room.

Now he discovered where the voice was coming from. It was from the tiny pipe on the wall. Unni went down on his knees, bent to the floor and peeped into the pipe.

There, inside the pipe, was sitting His Majesty, the King of Ants!

"I called you so many times," the King said. He was a little annoyed, for his summons used to be answered promptly in his palace.

His Majesty the King was silent. After a while he said, "Did you feel very bad when I bit you?"

"Certainly. Don't you see this?" Unni said, showing the red lump in his palm.

"You would have strangled me," said the King, "That’s why I resorted to violence. You are the first human being I have ever bitten, and hope that you are the last one also."

Unni remained silent looking at the little mark rather ruefully.

"Now tell me my boy, what I can do for you," said the King.

Unni forgot his pain. He said, "Do you know stories?"

"Yes. I do," the King replied.

"Would you tell me a few stories, if you don't mind?" said the boy.

The King readily agreed.

Unni said, "Won't you tell me a story today itself?"

"I’m afraid, I can’t" said the King, "Today I'm already late. We will meet tomorrow."

The rendezvous was fixed at the wood shed. Unni could call on the King at any time during the day. He should whistle three notes, and the King would appear.

"Somebody is coming into the room, who is that?" said the King.

Unni looked back over his shoulder and told his friend that it was his mother.

"Our friendship and conversation should be kept a close secret," the King instructed. Unni agreed.

"Who were you talking to?" Ma asked as she came to him.

"It was to a frog," he said.

"Now, what did the frog tell you?" asked the mother smiling.

"He said his mother wouldn't as much as scold him if he played in the rain," Unni said.

Mom laughed.

"I also told him I’m very cruelly treated," Unni continued.

"What was his reaction?"

"He burst into tears," Unni said.

"Now, let's have a glass of milk," said his mother taking Unni to the kitchen.