by Yoti Lane
After a long, weary journey he emerged into the daylight, and found everyone busy as usual. The only person who took the slightest notice of him was a vulture. As vultures always see everything the ant asked him if his friend had been around.
“Well, I’m not sure if it was him,” replied the vulture, “but I did see a fellow calling a meeting yesterday, and it seemed to me that something very queer was going on!” The vulture gave the ant a crafty look. Nothing pleased the vulture better than a fight because the victims always fell to him in the end, so he never missed an opportunity to start some trouble.
“But why should he call a meeting?” asked the ant.
“Well, he might claim that he had circled the earth single-footed, and offer to act as leader to the other ants, and conquer the world at last,” suggested the vulture.
“But he couldn’t do that, I’ve done as much as he has!”
“Oh, probably he hasn’t done anything of the kind. It’s only an idea I had. Forget it,” the vulture said cunningly.
The ant went away feeling thoroughly upset. When you put your trust in someone this was always what happened, he told himself, quite forgetting that the vulture hadn’t a shred of evidence to support his nasty idea.
“There is only one thing to do,” the ant told himself, “I’ll have to get people on my side. I’ll have to convince them that I am in the right.”
So he went into the public square and waved his feelers wildly, but the other ants were as usual so busy marching round on their accustomed tasks that no one took any notice of his antics. Finally, he rolled a large stone into the middle of one of their endless files of marching men, and this broke them up in confusion, and he made them listen to him.
At first they refused to believe that he had really made such a long tunnel as he claimed. They merely tapped their foreheads, and decided that here was someone else who had crazy ideas about conquering the world.
“Give me a fair chance,” pleaded the ant. “Come and see what I have done, and then you will believe me!” More in anger than sympathy one of the leaders eventually told off a posse of workers to accompany the ant, and off they went towards the tunnel. Having entered it, and marched, and marched, for miles, they became somewhat impressed, and believed that after all there might be some truth in this amazing claim.
“I know I must be almost all the way round the world,” the ant assured them, “and another bit of work will prove it. Come on and help me dig!” So they all helped him, and they dug, and dug until they were weary, and called, and called to try and locate the fellow who was supposed to be digging from the other end, but there was no reply, and finally they were forced to give up.
In the meanwhile the first ant had repeated the performance of his friend. Convinced that he had been betrayed he too called a meeting and recruited a crowd to his aid, and they went back and proceeded to burrow further along his tunnel, but without any result. The only person who was pleased was the vulture, who could see some really worthwhile developments from his personal viewpoint.
After much time had passed both gangs of workers gave up and made their way back along the tunnels until they at last emerged face to face. At once both the leaders advanced on each other furiously, and made accusations of treachery, while the eager vulture sat up on a tree above, almost drooling in anticipation of a huge meal of slaughtered ants.
However, all the ants weren’t hot-heads, and as each side listened it became clear to many of them that the whole misunderstanding lay in the original idea that two ants burrowing in opposite directions round the world, could meet on the other side.
So they broke up the argument by pointing this out to the leaders.
“If you ask me,” one old ant commented, although no one had asked him anything, “If you ask me, all the trouble arose because you two tried to do this thing on your own. If you had worked with an organised army the way we usually do, everything might have been all right. I think a resolution should be passed that in future, all ants, everywhere, will never work alone, but always in large numbers.”
The original leaders had nothing to say against this plan, for they felt more than a little foolish, and so the resolution was passed unanimously. From that day to this no ant ever does anything alone, and if you want to see this for yourselves all you need do is to go into the garden and watch till you see ants at work.
As regards their idea of ruling the world it never came to anything, because quite apart from the difficulties, there aren’t enough ants for the job. True there are billions, and billions of them, but that isn’t enough.
THE VAIN GIRL
THROUGHOUT ALL AFRICA the crocodile has a great reputation for wisdom, but it doesn’t help to make him popular, no one trusts him very much. When someone has done wrong, it is a frequently threatened punishment to “Throw him to the crocodiles!” and in the bad old days this was a very real threat.
Now there was a girl whose name in our language was Jewel, because she was very beautiful. She was the eldest of three sisters, and from the time she was born her beauty was most remarkable, which, as you know is unusual in very young babies, because they are rather plain.
Because of her beauty Jewel was made much of, and adored by her mother and father, and by all other relations as well. Even when her sisters were born, she still held her place as the favourite, and as they grew up they in turn became her willing slaves.
In some ways it was a pity Jewel was so beautiful, because as sometimes happens, she became selfish and vain. She didn’t want to work on the farm with her sisters, instead she wished to stay at home and sew, or dance, or go and sit by a pool and look at her own reflection.
The only thing she really enjoyed was going to market. There she went willingly to buy and bargain, and watch the sights, and be admired. Various members of the family went to market two or three at a time, and Jewel nearly always managed to be one of them.
One year a sickness fell on the country, and few people escaped without being ill. The people believed that this sickness must be a punishment for some wrong they had done, and they paid very strict attention to all kinds of observances that might seem very odd to other people. As I have said they had great respect for the crocodile who was believed to be very wise and powerful, and they were in the habit of placing offerings in a certain pool for one famous old fellow who appeared to be the leader of these reptiles.
It so happened that on the next market day Jewel’s two sisters had fallen ill of the sickness which was ravaging the countryside, and Jewel was asked to take an offering to the pool.
“But, mother, it’s market day. I want to go and buy a comb for my hair!” she protested.
“I’m sorry, my child, but someone must go to the pool. It would be a terrible thing if we didn’t make the offering, something dreadful might happen. You can go to the market next time.”
After a long argument Jewel, angered at her mother’s unusual firmness was forced to take a basket of offerings for the crocodile. She had gone some little distance along the path when she met a friend. “Greetings!” called the friend. “We can go to market together! I heard there are to be some beautiful new combs there this time, and I’m going to get the very best I can.”
Now Jewel was really very jealous of this other girl, because she also had some reputation for beauty, and Jewel could not bear to think of her friend flaunting around with a beautiful new comb when she herself had none. They were some distance from the village by now, and with luck no one would ever discover she hadn’t gone to the pool with the offerings for the crocodile. So she said not a word, but walked on towards the market.
“What are you bringing to the market this time?” asked her friend.
“Oh, nothing much, my Aunt has most of the stuff today,” Jewel answered, and went on to talk of other things. She knew, of course, that the basket contained all the delicacies her mother had been able to collect and that it would be easy to barter them for a very fine comb.
When they arrived Jewel said she had to attend to business, and as soon as her friend was out of sight she began to hunt feverishly for the comb vendor. As soon as she found her she eagerly inspected her wares. One beautifully carved comb instantly caught her fancy.
“Have you another like this?” she enquired after she had feasted her eyes on it. “No, that is the only one,” replied the old woman. “I wondered if you had sold another like it, I’d have liked two,” said Jewel, trying to be casual. In fact she was burning with anxiety in case there had been two identical ones, and that her friend might have already secured the other one. “No two of my combs are alike,” snapped the old lady. “Do you want it or not?” “I rather like it,” Jewel said cautiously. “What will you take for it? I have some very nice things in my basket.” “Let me see!” commanded the old woman. So Jewel opened her basket, and the two of them began to barter, each trying to beat the other down.
A crowd of amused spectators gathered, Jewel didn’t mind this, she was proud of her wit, and was holding her own, but she was dismayed when she saw her friend arrive. Jewel guessed that her friend would desire this very comb.
“Why do you not give her what she asks?” the friend said mischievously. “If you don’t think the comb is worth it, I’m willing to offer this very fine jar in exchange!” Now this really was against all the rules because two friends never tried to outbid each other, and Jewel turned and thoroughly abused the other, while the crowd took her side. The girl was forced to slink away, but not before she had noticed the unusual contents of Jewel’s basket. “Of course you will get what you want for those things,” she snapped. “They are more suitable for an offering than for barter!”
At this Jewel felt her heart sink, but it was too late to back out now, so she hastily concluded the deal, took the comb and started back home. She decided to return by a route that would make it appear that she was coming from the pool, and not from the market.
“You have been a very long time, I was becoming worried,” her mother remarked.
“I sat by the pool and forgot that time was passing,” Jewel replied.
“Well, will you tend the fire? Our neighbour is ill now, and I must visit her,” said the mother. “This illness is indeed terrible, I only hope that the spirits will see fit to be kind, and restore us to health soon.”
But the illness spread, and became worse, until one day a meeting was called, and all the village attended.
“There must be a curse on us,” an old man quavered. “Some one has offended the Spirits. Will the culprit confess so that he may be punished, and the village will be saved.”
There was a great deal of talk of this kind, and many people accused others, and the accused were examined, but nothing was proven against anyone. Then Jewel was horrified to see her friend whispering to one of the old men. While she was trying to make up her mind whether to run away or not, the old fellow raised a great cry.
“The offender has been named,” he cried. “It is the girl Jewel. She kept back the offering to the crocodile, and bartered it at the market for a comb!”
Immediately a terrible hubbub arose, and Jewel was forced to stand in the middle of the circle.
“Is this story true?” thundered the Chief.
“Of course it’s true!” the jealous girl cried out. “I can vouch for it, and you can prove it yourselves by visiting the comb vendor!”
“It is not true!” Jewel exclaimed. “I have no comb!”
“Then you have hidden it. Let us go, and search her house!” shouted the accuser.
Despite the protests of Jewel, and the lamentations of her mother the crowd hurried towards the house.
“I know where she hides her treasures, under the wall, near the water jar,” the false friend shouted gleefully, and rushed to the spot. She found the comb almost at once, and held it up for all to see.
At this the crowd became terribly angry.
“Cast her to the crocodiles,” they cried. “That will be fit punishment!”
So Jewel was dragged towards the pool, bound and left to the mercy of the crocodiles.
“Much good may your beauty do you now!” sneered her one time friend.
Now Jewel knew the pool very well, how often she had sat there for hours admiring her reflection, and how often she had watched the crocodile. She was careful, of course, and always ready to rise and run if he came near, but he was a lazy old fellow, well fed with offerings, and never took much notice of her. “He won’t bother with me,” she assured herself now. “He’s too fat, and lazy,” but nevertheless when she saw him appearing out of the water, she felt very frightened.
He looked at her with his strange eyes, and it seemed to her that he sneered.
“Well, you’ve got yourself into a nice mess,” he said in a deep, harsh voice.
“You can talk!” Jewel exclaimed.
“Certainly I can talk. I don’t often do it of course, so few things are worth talking about!”
“Oh, I’m so glad,” Jewel exclaimed. “I’m sorry about your offering. Truly I am. I’d do anything to make up for it, if only you’ll use your influence and have the sickness taken from us.”
“The sickness is nothing to do with me,” said the crocodile. “I didn’t cause it, and I can’t do anything about taking it away.”
“Oh, then it wouldn’t have made any difference if I had given you the offering. Oh, this is terrible. My friend has my beautiful comb, and I’m here, and I suppose you’ll eat me. Oh how miserable I am!” and she burst into sobs.
“Stop making that horrible noise,” snapped the crocodile. “I’m not going to eat you. I’m too old, my teeth aren’t what they were; but you are going to be punished!”
“How?” quavered Jewel.
“You are going to stay here!”
“You mean live here by this pool?”
“Yes!”
“But I don’t understand. I won’t mind doing that for a time!”
“It won’t be for a time, it will be for ever. You can look after the offerings they bring me.”
“But why?” asked Jewel. “I’ll have so little to do, and I’d have nothing to eat.”
“You may eat some of the offerings.”
Jewel sighed, and was silent. After all she was very lucky. She was not going to be eaten, and she wouldn’t mind living at the pool for a time. She couldn’t believe it would be for long, because even if the crocodile didn’t relent and let her go, she would surely be able to escape.
“May I build myself a shelter?” she enquired.
“You may,” said the crocodile, and then proceeded to talk in such guttural tones that Jewel could not understand a word. Startled she looked round, and discovered that a large number of crocodiles of all ages were sitting in a ring behind her. She was so startled that she screamed.
“It’s all right,” said the crocodile. “They won’t hurt you. At least not unless you try to escape.”
Jewel felt her heart sink. Was it going to be more difficult to escape than she imagined?
“May I gather reeds for the shelter now?” she quavered.
“Go ahead!” the crocodile told her.
So she wriggled out of her bonds, and when she was free, she made her way to the bank and gathered reeds. A number of young crocodiles followed her. There was no hope of escape. By night she had built a shelter where she slept, and next morning she rose, washed at the edge of the pool, and used it as a mirror while she did her toilet. She was glad to see that the events of the past twenty-four hours had not affected her looks, and wished that she had her beautiful comb. It was galling to think of it in the hands of her betrayer.
So the days passed. Jewel fed on the offerings, watched people come and go, although they were afraid to speak to her, and spent much of her time admiring her reflection in the pool. After a while, however, she became bored even with this.
“Why keep me here?” she asked the old crocodile. “Please let me go. I’ll do anything if you’ll only give me fre
edom.”
“What more do you want?” asked the crocodile. “You are fed, you are comfortable. You don’t have to do anything, and you can spend hours gazing at yourself in the pool.” He turned and plunged into the water, and Jewel did not see him for a long time.
Time was passing, and still Jewel was a prisoner. Still no one spoke to her, but she heard the people who passed talking between themselves. She heard of marriages among those she knew, girls younger than herself. If she had been free she would probably have been married by now. For the first time Jewel began to think seriously about the future. Suppose the crocodile kept her here until she was an old, old woman. With nothing to do but look at herself in the pool, and gradually she would see her looks change. As the years passed she would see all her youth and beauty fade.
She could think of no more horrible fate, and she felt sure that this was just what the crocodile had planned. She had no idea how long she had been his prisoner, one day was so much like the other that it seemed as if years had passed.
Feeling desperate she decided that she would jump into the pool and drown herself. Fearing that if she stayed to think much about it she would lose courage, she jumped to her feet, shut her eyes, ran towards the pool, and fell down, down into the water. But only for a few minutes. She felt herself seized, and dragged out again.
“Tch, tch,” exclaimed the old crocodile, as he set her on the bank. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I’m so miserable I’d rather be dead than stay here any longer,” she cried.
“But what displeases you about the life?” asked the crocodile. “Think how you used to leave tasks undone, and creep away here and gaze at your own reflection for hours. Now you can do it all the time.”
“I don’t want to. I’m sick of my own reflection,” Jewel sobbed. “Besides if I stay here my reflection will change, I’ll get old and ugly and I don’t want to look at myself when I’m old and ugly.”
“What do you want to do?” asked the crocodile.