"The Rat?" said Bombinator.
"The Rat," replied the Natterjack. "He grumbled at my ripples in the water—and he makes noise enough. Just listen to him."
The Water-Rat had left his leaf, and now was in the reed-stems. He held a two-inch cutting in his paws. They heard his munching plainly.
"This is a queer pond," said the Natterjack; "it's full of noises. A shrew-mouse chirped as I swam back, and half a dozen bubbles struck me. That means there's something grunting. My yellow stripe! what's that?"
It rose crescendo,
"brek-ek-ek-ek-ek-ek-ek-ek-EX!"
and finished amoroso,
"KO-ax! KO-ax! KO-ax!"
"I know it," shrieked Bombinator. His little eyes were starting from their sockets, as he sat up entranced.
"I know it," echoed Bombinatrix.