Frogs and Mice at War by Imonikhe Ahimie (best fiction novels of all time TXT) 📕

It wasn’t really a particularly hot day, but Crumbfilcher was all hot and sweaty by the time he made a stop at the first pool of water in the swamp that was situated not too far off from his home. He was all tired out and his heart was beating more rapidly than he could ever remember it beating, and he knew that it was the fear that caused his heart to beat in so rapid a fashion.

And I defy anyone, absolutely anyone, who’s just gone through what I’ve just gone through not to have his heart athumping, he said wryly to himself.

Crumbfilcher, you see, was a mouse but although he was just a mouse, he was not by any means a coward. Indeed, as far as mice went, Crumbfilcher was the bravest and most intrepid mouse that anyone could ever hope to come into contact with, but he had just lived through a most harrowing experience, the like of which there were few mice who could boast of going through and coming out with their skin completely intact. He had been chased by a weasel and here he was alive to tell of it!

Boy, I’m gonna have a swell time telling this story over and over again, he thought, not without a touch of smugness.

Then, having given thanks to Zeus, the mighty son of Koronos, he bent his head to drink of the cool waters of the pool. But he had taken just the one sip when his rapidly beating heart stopped beating! Well, his heart hadn’t really stopped beating but it certainly felt that way for a moment or so as he had heard a voice where he had not thought to hear one.

Not that damned weasel again, he thought, every sinew in his body trembling in fearful anticipation of imminent death!

No!

Thankfully, from Crumbfilcher's point of view, it was not that damned weasel! It was merely a damned frog, all shiny green and wet, sitting on a small mound of mud in the middle of the pool! Well, Crumbfilcher, as we have said, was by no means a cowardly mouse and, whatever his fears consisted of, Crumbfilcher had no fear of frogs and he flung an extremely dirty look, one which would have upset most anyone who on the receiving end of such a look. The frog was clearly made of sterner stuff than most; it seemed that he was completely oblivious of the less than friendly look with which Crumbfilcher skewered him. With a merry twinkle in his eyes and a cheery lilt to his voice, the frog continued speaking.

“Howdy, stranger mouse. I trust that it wouldn’t be too much of an intrusion into your private affairs if I were to ask from where it is that you have come, all panting, to the shores of my marshland in what can only be described as so desperate a manner? If one might be permitted to hazard a guess, just a wild guess stranger, it seems to me that you’ve had one giant scare, perhaps the grandfather of all scares”, with a tinkling laugh.

“Of course, it might be the grandmother of scares or one that is a result of a combination of both grandparents”, politely, but with his eyes twinkling even more merrily.

The frog continued: “Now, my friend, you need not be shy to tell me all. Be frank, yes, be absolutely frank with me and I promise that you’ll find in me a good and true friend for, if I deem you to be a deserving fellow, I swear by the head of the mighty son of Koronos that I will take you to my home where I will heap on you treasure such as your mousy mind can barely imagine.

“Now, ol’boy, speak, for I am all ears!”

“Who are you, sir frog? But, before you set about introducing yourself, I must complain about your unmannerly approach just now for, if you care to know, I almost choked on just the sip of water that I had taken!”

The frog’s cheeks puffed out in the most self-satisfied manner imaginable and there was more than a trace of prideful arrogance in his voice as he made his reply.

“My name, panting mouse, is Puffcheek and I rule as king over all the frogs who dwell in this lovely marshland. Now, perhaps you’ll tell me whom it is that you are for, merely by looking at you, I am convinced that you are a most worthy and valiant fellow; a scion of royalty, perhaps?

“You must know, sir panting mouse, that I’m hardly ever wrong in my judgments as regards worth or the lack of it thereof, in the folk who, blessed by the immortal gods who dwell on high Olympus, are lucky enough to make my acquaintance; I am, after all, a king.

“If, as I suspect, you are truly a worthy fellow I will, as I have said, shower you with wealth beyond your imagining!”

Sketching a bow, Crumbfilcher replied: “Your judgment, frog king, is, I must admit, truly of the highest order, simply first class!

“My name is Crumbfilcher, but what is there to say about my kindred? As you have discerned, I am a mouse and surely the nature of mice is known to all manner of creatures who inhabit the whole wide earth, whether such creatures be dwellers on the solid land or whether they be those who make their habitation in the waters spread abundantly over the earth. Even those creatures who dwell more in the skies that lie far above the land and the waters know fully the nature of my kind.

“As to my lineage, frog king, you are absolutely spot on for, when you identify me as a scion of royalty, you are quite simply correct for I am the son of the great Breadgnawer whose fame, I do not doubt, will have reached the ears of you and your folk, marsh dwellers though you be.

“But, although my dear old pop is renowned amongst my folk and far beyond, the royal blood that truly flows through my veins comes from my mom, the sweetest mother known to any son. Mother is the daughter of a king: Lickmill, daughter of king Hamnibbler, our illustrious king. I was born in the coziest hovel imaginable and I was brought up on figs and nuts and cheese and all other manner of fine things!”

Coughing delicately, the mouse continued: “My dear king Puffcheek, one does not, of course, wish to sound boastful, but when you name me a valiant fellow I am constrained to admit to being one for I have never dreaded the din of battle; rather, I am always to found in the vanguard of the warriors of my people. Wherever the strife is most strenuous, you may be sure that there you will find me and I may say, sire, that my place amongst the warriors of my folk is secure”, he finished with pride.

“I knew it! I knew it! Immediately I set my eyes upon you, I said to myself ‘here is a worthy fellow’, cried Puffcheek. “Come, we shall be friends”, he declared grandly.

Crumbfilcher stared at the frog for a long while in a somewhat bemused manner, then he spoke.

“My dear frog king, you say we should be friends which seems all well and good, for I do not doubt that you speak truly; but how is that to be? My folk and yours are not alike in any particular. You frogs inhabit the marshes and watery wastes of the earth and have done so ever since your impious ancestors were turned into what you now are by almighty Zeus when they so gratuitously mocked mighty Leto, mother of Artemis the huntress and the golden-haired Apollo.

“And a well-deserved punishment for impious behavior it was that the son of Koronos inflicted upon your ancestors, if you’ll forgive my saying so.”

Puffcheek merely laughed.

“We mice, on the other hand, are a land dwelling race, tightly knitted with mankind”, this with a slight shudder, “and we feed on everything and anything that mankind feeds upon; not a single one of the dainties that man enjoys passes us by: bread or cake; ham or cheese; if man feeds on it, so do we.

“There is no peasant’s home, be it ever so humble where my kindred are not to be found; and it is the same for the home of the mighty: the incomparable Heracles and the valiant Achilleus had us for company. Even the mighty gods of Olympus live with us as companions. Why, even in the temples and shrines of mighty Athena, the virgin daughter of Zeus, even there you will find my kindred.

“What then, I ask again, do we have in common? How can someone like myself be friends in any meaningful manner with such as yourself.”

There was an ironic twinkle in the eyes of the frog king as he answered somewhat slyly.

“Perhaps my assessment of your valor was not as spot on as my assessment of your bloodline. Certainly you don’t seem to be as valorous as I had imagined you to be, or even perhaps as valorous as you had imagined yourself to be. Oh, I’m certain that you are valiant enough in your own way”, as the mouse bristled at this attack at his valor, “but then, valor does have its limits, I daresay.

“Putting aside the matter of valor for the nonce, and if you do not consider it too much of an intrusion into your private affairs, what was it that brought you to the shores of my domain completely breathless and your whole body trembly?”

An irresistible shudder ran through Crumbfilcher’s body at Puffcheek’s question and he flung yet another dirty look, one that was even dirtier than the previous one, at the frog king, but the present look made no more impression on Puffcheek than the former look had.

Crumbfilcher answered: “I would have you know, frog king, that there a few things under heaven of which I am afraid. I do not fear man, even though man is a veritable giant compared to such as you and I for, when that giant is asleep, I can bite at fingers or nibble to my heart’s content at a heel whilst the giant, in his slumbery state, dreams of stuff he will never have in his waking state. Try that, if you dare”, sneeringly.

“But listen, sir Puffcheek, there is something of man that I fear and I admit that I fear it greatly. There is an infernal device that man has made; he calls it a mouse trap! A mouse trap, I tell you! I am convinced in my mind that only the Lady Athena herself could have put the knowledge of such a device in man’s mind and, as for it’s making, I am equally convinced that only Lord Hephaestus, Queen Hera’s device-creating son, could have guided his fingers in the making of what has become a bane to all of my kind!”

Crumbfilcher stopped and took a drink of water, for he was getting somewhat agitated and there was a wild sort of look in his eyes as he thought of the woes that he and his kind faced. Puffcheek nodded in a sympathetic manner, but he maintained a decorous silence.

A bit calmer for the sip of water, Crumbfilcher continued: “Another thing that I fear is the far-seeing hawk, for almighty Zeus has endowed that master of the skies with such a keen eyesight that, even when he soars in the highest reaches of the heavens, he can pick out a mouse, be it ever so tiny, in the grain field as he or she goes about his or her own affairs.”

Once again, the frog nodded in a most understanding manner.

“But there is that which I fear even