DUCKS

The morning was dark and gloomy. Black clouds hung low over the Frog Pond. Deep thunder rumbled and rolled, and across the sky the lightning flashed and zigzagged back and forth. The wind made a low moaning sound in the treetops, as if he knew that a great sorrow had come to the little folks who lived there. The tall cat-tails bowed their heads and sighed. Every frog was quiet and very much afraid. What were they afraid of? Not of the coming storm, I am sure, for frogs dearly love raindrops. Some one very dreadful had come during the early morning hours. And now every little heart was beating fast with fear. Every little face had a look of care and fright.

This morning Bully had slept quite late because he had learned that the very best time to get a good meal is at night. In the darkness many of the little flying and crawling creatures are out. You see, Bully has good eyes. He can see almost as well in the dark as in the light. He had a habit of roaming about among the weeds and grasses during the early hours of the night. He was growing round and fat, for he had learned to be a good hunter.

But of course a little frog must sleep some, too. So he had slept a little later than usual on this stormy morning. As he opened his eyes and sat looking about, he wondered why everything was so quiet. He could not hear the croak of a single frog. Neither could he see any on Grandfather Frog's island. But here and there peeping through the water he saw a little face wearing a frightened look. It seemed very strange indeed. What did it mean?

He was turning these things over in his mind when he heard a new, strange noise. It came from over beyond the bulrushes. It sounded like quack, quack. He was greatly alarmed. What could it mean? Some one dreadful must have come in the night—some one that would hurt little frogs. When he heard quack, quack the second time, Bully sprang quickly into the water and went down, down as deep as he could, and then crawled under a rock on the bottom of the pond. Whoever made that dreadful noise seemed to be following him. He could not stay hidden long, so he thought he would go quietly over to his old log and try to find Grandmother Bull Frog. She always took care of him in time of danger, so he must find her. You know there is no place quite so safe as the one close to mother when danger is near. And Grandmother, you remember, was the only mother Bully knew.

Down behind the old log he found most of the old frogs. They were talking scarcely above a whisper, and all of them looked frightened and worried. He heard them say, "What shall we do? We can't live here with those ducks. There isn't room in the Frog Pond for both ducks and frogs. But how can we make the ducks go away? Is it possible the Lark made a mistake and invited those dreadful ducks to come here, too? Or did they see a great many frogs coming this way and follow them?"

"Perhaps they won't stay," said one. "They may not like this pond!"

"But they will like it," answered another. "See all these tender young frogs and polly-wogs! They can't help liking this pond."

"They will gobble our children by the thousands," said another.

Bully was dreadfully frightened. From what the old frogs said he learned that Mr. and Mrs. Duck had come, and if they stayed there would be no more peace and happiness for the frogs in Rainbow Valley. Their home would be quite spoiled. Oh, it was the very worst thing that had ever happened to them!

Now, even though he was so badly frightened, Bully found that he was hungry. He must have some breakfast. He was not only hungry, but he was curious to see what a duck looked like. So he crept out from under the log and started off. He kept out of sight as much as he could by hiding under the leaves and behind the rocks until he got to a place where he could look across the pond and see Mr. and Mrs. Duck. Near a bunch of tall grass on the opposite shore they were walking about and talking noisily. They seemed to be much interested in something in the grass. From where Bully sat he could see Mrs. Duck turn herself round and round in the grass. Then he saw Mr. Duck go where she was and begin to pull some of the grass down and lay it carefully around the place Mrs. Duck had been tramping with her feet. Both ducks worked hard for some time. At last they stood looking down and talking over what they had done. Then Bully saw Mrs. Duck pull soft, downy feathers from her breast and place them carefully about the nest. For that is what they had been doing—making a nest. Finally Mr. Duck walked proudly out and stood oiling and dressing his feathers while Mrs. Duck sat on the nest.

Bully watched Mrs. Duck for a long time. Finally he concluded that she had made up her mind to stay on the nest always or that she had fallen asleep. But just then up she got and came waddling out to where Mr. Duck was. They had a long, earnest talk. Then they both went down to the water and began to eat young frogs. It was a terrible thing to see! Bully trembled from head to foot, while great drops of sweat stood out all over his little body. The ducks swam around contentedly, quacking all the time. Every once in a while he could see them put their heads down under the water—far down until the water was clear above their eyes. And every time their heads came up out of the water he saw the arms and legs of baby frogs disappearing in those big mouths.

Bully saw the baby frogs disappearing in the Ducks' mouths

It was an awful sight. Bully shut his eyes so that he might not see the little frogs being swallowed alive. Finally he opened his eyes and, taking one more hasty look, he slipped into the water and swam as far out of sight of the ducks as it was possible. How could they be so cruel, he thought. He knew that he must watch out or he, too, would be eaten alive. Looking about, he could not see an old frog anywhere. The sight was too dreadful for them, so they had gone and hidden. Day after day those ducks ate young frogs until the little frog people of the pond were in a panic. Bully didn't dare hunt in the daytime now. He had to keep out of sight to save his life.

There were no more grand concerts with a full booming chorus such as the frogs used to give. Now and then a few frogs would croak a little, but the fine old concert was a thing of the past. There was very little leaping, jumping, swimming, or playing. Every little frog had to keep watch all the time so that he might not lose his life. Oh, why had those dreadful ducks come to spoil the frogs' beautiful home! They loved this pond so much. Everyone was afraid for his life all the time. Many frogs were killed after they had done their best to keep out of sight. They could never be quite sure they were safe.

The days passed slowly. More and more frogs and polly-wogs were eaten. Grandfather Bull Frog was almost crazy. He had taken such good care of his loved Frog Pond. Now those greedy ducks were spoiling it all. Something must be done. He felt he could not stand the wholesale killing of the little frogs much longer. He looked thin and worried. He knew that unless something was done before Mrs. Duck brought her babies from the nest, then most of the young frogs and polly-wogs would be eaten.

Grandfather told Bully to go and tell all the frogs to gather near the old log for a meeting. He wanted to find out whether anyone could think of a plan to get rid of the ducks. Bully went and invited them all to the meeting. He even told Mrs. Toad about it, although he didn't see what she could do. The frogs all came at once. Grandfather asked each of them if he knew of any way to drive the ducks away from the pond. But no one seemed to know what was best to do.

"I should think some of you old bullfrogs could bite those ducks until they would leave," said Mrs. Toad.

"Why don't you bite them yourself?" asked a young frog.

"Because," she answered, "I haven't any teeth. How could I bite a duck and make him leave the Frog Pond, I want you to tell me!"

"I thought you had teeth," said Grandfather Bull Frog. "Most frogs do."

"Toads never do," she replied.

But no one thought Mrs. Toad's idea a good one. They thought of the duck's strong yellow beak and how it would hurt to be bitten by one.

At last John Bull Frog, who had been sitting at the edge of the gathering, said, "I don't feel like saying much because I acted so badly when I first came here. I am ashamed of the way I acted then. But let me tell you, Mrs. John Bull Frog and I, when the time comes, can rid the pond of those ducks."

"Can't you do it now?" the frogs asked.

"No, we can't do it until the right time comes," he replied.

"How can you get rid of them?" asked Grandfather Bull Frog.

"I can't tell you now, but we'll do it at the proper time," was all he would say.

The other frogs told Old John they hoped he would do everything he possibly could, and do it right away. The meeting then broke up, and as the frogs hopped away they could all see those greedy ducks eating, eating, eating little frogs.

Oh, if John Bull Frog would only do something! He had said he could get rid of the ducks. Then why did he have to wait? Each day more and more frogs were eaten. If John Bull Frog really could rid the pond of them, they didn't see why he shouldn't do it right now. It was certainly pretty strange and queer. And it was very hard to wait.