tried to ignore Gobrag and carry on singing, but his awful croaking just grew louder and louder until they couldn't even hear themselves think!
Then they tried moving to a far corner of the garden. But Gobrag's noise still carried through the air and disturbed them. Then they tried waiting until Gobrag fell asleep, but somehow he always awoke, croaking louder than before. Whatever they did, they could not escape his noisy presence.
"Something has to be done," said one of the frogs, finally. "We can't carry on with our singing anymore. We'll have to look for somewhere else to live."
The other frogs gasped in horror. They loved their garden with its beautiful, brightly colored flowers and its many fragrant plants, and most of all, their friends who lived there with them. But what could they do?
So the frogs agreed they had to look for a new home. Three of the older frogs volunteered to go on the search. Off they went, hopping out of the garden and into the big, wide world.
The trio hopped through the tall grass next to the rice field, over the ditch at its side, and across a temple yard until they arrived at the bank of a muddy stream. The stream seemed like a perfect spot, so they all jumped into the water to cool their hot little bodies.
After frolicking in the water for what seemed like hours, the frogs clambered onto a small island in the middle of the stream and sat in the sun expressing their pleasure in a chorus of croaks until they were quite hoarse.
Just as they were about to fall asleep, the island beneath them suddenly moved. It rose up in the air and they fell higgledy-piggledy into the water. Great waves and swirling currents tumbled them this way and that. Diving deep, the frogs swam as fast as they could until they reached a patch of reeds in shallow water near the bank. Clinging to the stalks and to one another, the frogs, peeping out, shrank back in terror at what they saw before them.
The island upon which, until a moment before, they had been sitting and singing, was now transformed into a huge lumbering monster, the likes of which they had never seen before! The monster reared its huge head, its horns arched high against the sky. It stared towards them. A massive cloven hoof crashed down in their midst, and then another, and a big wave of water washed over them and swept them up onto the bank.
Reeling from fright, the frogs lost no time in leaping as quickly as they could from the dreadful place, and hurried back across the yard, over the ditch, through the tall grass, and finally through the gate to the relative peace of their garden home.
The other frogs were shocked to see how shaken and scared the trio were and asked anxiously what on earth had happened. As they started to tell their tale, everyone couldn't help but notice how Gobrag had edged closer to listen too. "W-we m-m-met a m-m-m-monster," stammered one of the adventurers, at last.
"What do you mean, a monster?" exclaimed one of the others.
"A terrifying monster, bigger than anything we've ever seen. Bigger than a house, bigger than..."
Before he could finish, Gobrag boomed: "Bigger than me? Impossible! Don't you know that no beast is bigger than me?"
To prove his point, Gobrag puffed himself up, and cried:
"For as East is East and West is West,
I am the biggest and I am the best!"
He swallowed another huge gulp of air and pushed out his warty chest. "There— see what I mean!" he said, wobbling before them.
But the frogs knew that Gobrag was not the biggest thing on earth—the monster they had seen was a hundred times larger!
"Why, that monster out there was much meaner than you," said one of the little frogs. "He was the meanest thing I have ever seen."
"Nonsense!" roared Gobrag, "don't you know that no beast is meaner than I...
For as East is East and West is West,
I am the biggest and I am the best!"
And he blew himself up again, twice as big.
"That's not true," shrilled the frogs. "That monster was far uglier than you."
This was too much for Gobrag. "No beast is uglier than I!
For as East is East and West is West,
I am the biggest and I am the best!" he screamed, and, puffing himself up again, he ballooned out as big as a barrel.
"Bah!" barked the frogs in unison, "That monster was far scarier than you." "Absolute rubbish!" bellowed Gobrag, who was by now thoroughly furious and as huge as a house! He took another stupendous gulp.
"As East is East and West is West..." he began, and then he got bigger and bigger and bigger... and bigger until, suddenly—he burst!
"Oh dear," said one of the frogs. "Poor old haughty toad. I really think he got a bit too big this time."
And then there was silence in the garden.
The frogs returned to their lily pads and sang tunefully, and peace reigned once again beneath the frangipani trees, though they couldn't help thinking that they really quite missed old Gobrag, the silly old toad.
The Saintly Stork
At the top of a very tall tamarind tree, far a great white stork named Bebaka. From his huge untidy nest of twigs and leaves, he could look down on the nests of the all other birds, across the rice fields, and over the houses of the people.
And so he sat one morning, surveying his domain, his long yellow beak clattering and his head shaking gently from side to side.
It had been a good year in the village with plenty of rain. The paddy fields were alive with eels, crabs, frogs and fishes. The only problem was that so much food meant there were too many storks.
The flock had become so large that there were arguments over food every day.
Why, only yesterday some young upstart had the nerve to pinch a fat fish from Bebaka's very beak. He certainly wasn't getting the respect he deserved and he was determined to do something about it.
As he sat thinking about his unhappiness, Bebaka looked down at the temple below. A festival was in progress.
A brightly dressed group of people made their way into the inner courtyard. They placed their towering offerings, made out of fruit, flowers and multi-colored rice cakes, on a large platform and then kneeled to pray.
Overseeing the ceremony was the high priest, the Pedanda. Dressed in fine white robes and hat, his jewelled fingers held a silver prayer bell which tinkled gaily as he chanted his holy prayers. It was clear that he ruled the roost in the village.
Later that day, when the ceremony was over and everyone had fded out, the priest took his daily walk past the river. As he passed one of the deep pools, he rang his silver bell.
Bebaka nearly fell off his perch when he saw what happened next. Five of the fattest carp he had ever seen emerged to pay their respects to the priest. And what was more, they were accompanied by a very large and juicy-looking mud crab. The priest chatted to the creatures, threw them some rice and went on his way.
As Bebaka watched, he thought of a cunning plan. He would become Pedanda Bebaka—the holy bird—the master of all God's creatures! He would be a supremely wise old bird who would, finally, command the respect that he deserved.
Bebaka felt much better. He also felt rather hungry.