THE BATTLE OF THE FROGS AND THE MICE
By Sir George W. Cox
A thirsty mouse, who had just escaped from a weasel, was drinking from a pool of water, when a croaking frog saw him, and said, “Stranger, when hast thou come to our shore, and who is thy father? Tell me the truth, and deceive me not, for if thou deservest it, I will lead thee to my house and give thee rich and beautiful gifts. My name is Puffcheek, and I rule over the frogs who dwell in this lake, and I see that thou, too, art an excellent prince and a brave warrior. So make haste, and tell me to what race thou dost belong.”
The mouse answered him and said, “Friend, why dost thou ask me of my race? It is known to all the gods, and to men, and to all the birds of heaven. My name is Crumbfilcher and I am the son of the great-hearted Breadgnawer, and my mother is Lickmill, the daughter of King Hamnibbler. I was born in a hovel, and fed on figs and nuts and on all manner of good things. But how can we be friends? We are not at all like each other. You frogs live in the water; we feed on whatever is eaten by man. No dainty escapes my eye, whether it be bread, or cake, or ham, or new-made cheese, or rich dishes prepared for feasts. As to war, I have never dreaded its noise, but, going straight into it, have taken my place among the foremost warriors. Nor do I fear men, although they have large bodies; for at night I can bite a finger or nibble a heel without waking the sleeper from his pleasant slumber. But there are two things which I dread greatly—a mouse-trap and a hawk; but worse than these are the weasels, for they can catch us in our holes. What then am I to do? for I cannot eat the cabbages, radishes, and pumpkins, which furnish food to the race of frogs.”
Then Puffcheek answered with a smile, “My friend, thou art dainty enough, but we have fine things to show on the dry land and in the marsh, for the son of Cronos has given us the power to dwell on land or in the water as it may please us. If thou wouldst see these things, it is soon done. Get on my back and hold on well, so that thou mayest reach my house with a cheerful heart.” So he turned his bade to the mouse, who sprang lightly on it and put his arms round his soft neck. Much pleased he was at first to swim on the back of Puffcheek, while the haven was near; but when he got out into midwater, he began to weep and to curse his useless sorrow. He tore his hair, and drew his feet tightly round the frog’s stomach. His heart beat wildly, and he wished himself well on shore, as he uttered a pitiful cry and spread out his tail on the water, moving it about like an oar. Then in the bitterness of his grief he said, “Surely it was not thus the bull carried the beautiful Europa on his back over the sea to Crete; surely—” But before he could say more, a snake, of which frogs and mice alike are afraid, lifted up his head straight above the water. Down dived Puffcheek, when he saw the snake, never thinking that he had left the mouse to die. The frog was safe at the bottom of the marsh, but the mouse fell on his back and screamed terribly. Many times he sank and many times he came up again, kicking hard; but there was no hope. The hair on his skin was soaked and weighed him down, and with his last breath he cried, “Puffcheek, thou shalt not escape for thy treachery. On the land I could have beaten thee in boxing, wrestling, or running; but thou hast beguiled me into the water, where I can do nothing. The eye of justice sees thee, and thou shalt pay a fearful penalty to the great army of the mice.”
So the Crumbfilcher died; but Lickplatter saw him as he sat on the soft bank, and uttering a sharp cry, went to tell the mice. Then was there great wrath among them, and messengers were sent to bid all come in the morning to the house of Breadgnawer, the father of the luckless Crumbfilcher, whose body could not even be buried, because it was floating in the middle of the pond. They came at dawn, and Breadgnawer, rising in grief and rage, said, “Friends, I may be the only one whom the frogs have sorely injured; but we all live a poor life, and I am in sad plight, for I have lost three sons. The first was slain by a hateful weasel who caught him outside his hole. The next one cruel men brought to his death by a newfangled device of wood, which they call a trap; and now my darling Crumbfilcher has been drowned. Come and let us arm ourselves for war and go forth to battle.”
So they each put on his armor. For greaves around their legs they used the beans on which they fed at night, and their breastplates they made cunningly out of the skin of a dead weasel. For spears they carried skewers, and the shell of a nut for a helmet. So they stood in battle array, and the frogs, when they came to hear of it, rose from the water and summoned a council in a corner of the pond. As they wondered what might be the cause of these things, there came a messenger from the mice, who declared war against them and said, “Ye frogs, the mice bid you arm yourselves and come forth to battle, for they have seen Crumbfilcher, whom your king Puffcheek drowned, floating dead on the water.” Then the valiant frogs feared exceedingly, and blamed the deed of Puffcheek; but the king said, “Friends, I did not kill the mouse or see him die; of course he was drowned while he amused himself in the pond by trying to swim like a frog, and the wretches now bring a charge against me who am wholly guiltless. But come, let us take counsel how we may destroy these mice and this, I think, is the best plan. Let us arm ourselves and take our stand where the bank is steepest, and when they come charging against us, let us seize their helmets and drag them down into the pond. Thus we shall drown them all and set up a trophy for our victory.” So they each put on his armor. They covered their legs with mallow leaves, and carried radish leaves for shields, rushes for spears, snail-shells for helmets. Thus they stood in array on the high bank, brandishing their spears and shouting for battle.
But Jupiter summoned the gods to the starry heaven, and, pointing to the hosts of the frogs and mice, mighty as the armies of the Centaurs or the giants, he asked who would aid each side as it might be hard pressed in the strife; and he said to Minerva, “Daughter, thou wilt go surely to the aid of the mice, for they are always running about thy shrine, and delight in the fat and the morsels which they pick from the sacrifices.”
But Minerva said to the son of Cronos, “Father, I go not to help the mice, for they have done me grievous mischief, spoiling the garlands and the lamps for the sake of the oil. Nay, I have greater cause for anger, for they have eaten the robe which I wove from fine thread, and made holes in it; and the man who mended it charges a high price, and, worse still, I borrowed the stuff of which I wove it, and now I cannot pay it back. Yet neither will I aid the frogs, for they are not in their right senses. A little while ago, I came back tired from war and wanting sleep; but they never let me close my eyes with their clatter, and I lay sleepless with a headache till the cock crew in the morning. But, O ye gods, let us aid neither side, lest we be wounded with their swords or spears, for they are sharp and strong, even against gods; let us take our sport by watching the strife in safety.”
The gods did as Minerva bade them, and went all to one place. The gnats, with their great trumpets, gave the signal for battle, and Jupiter thundered out of the sky because of the woes that were coming. Mighty were the deeds that were done on both sides, and the earth and the pond were reddened with the blood of the slain. As the fight went on, Crumbstealer slew Garliceater before he came to land; and Mudwalker, seeing it, threw at him a clod of earth, and, hitting him on the forehead, almost blinded him. In his fury, Crumbstealer seized a great stone, and crushed the leg of the frog, so that he fell on his back in the dust. Then Breadgnawer wounded Puffcheek in the foot, and made him limp into the water.
But among the mice was a young hero, with whom none could be matched for boldness and strength, and his name was Bitstealer. On the bank of the pond he stood alone, and vowed a vow to destroy the whole race of frogs. And the vow would have been accomplished, for his might was great indeed, had not the son of Cronos pitied the frogs in their misery, and charged Minerva and Mars to drive Bitstealer from the battle. But Mars made answer and said, “O Jupiter, neither Minerva nor Mars alone can save the frogs from death. Let us all go and help them; and do thou, son of Cronos, wield thy mighty weapon with which thou didst slay the Titans, and the wild race of giants, for thus only can the bravest of them be slain.” So spake Mars; and Jupiter hurled his scathing thunderbolts, and the lightnings flashed from the sky, and Olympus shook with the earthquake. The frogs and mice heard and trembled; but the mice ceased not yet from the battle, and strove only the more to slay their enemies, until Jupiter, in his pity, sent a new army to aid the frogs.
Suddenly they came on the mice, with mailed backs and crooked claws, with limping gait, and mouths like shears. Their backs were hard and horny, their arms were long and lean, and their eyes were in their breasts. They had eight feet and two heads, and no hands. Men call them crabs. With their mouths they bit the tails and feet and hands of the mice, and broke their spears, and great terror came on all the mice, so that they turned and fled. Thus the battle was ended, and the sun went down.