The ferryman scowled.
"Why do you yell at me, woman?" he asked.
"Can you hear what I say?" she asked in her ordinary tone of voice.
"Of course," replied the man.
"Then why didn't you answer the Frogman?"
"Because," said the ferryman, "I don't understand the frog language."
"He speaks the same words that I do and in the same way," declared Cayke.
"Perhaps," replied the ferryman; "but to me his voice sounded like a frog's croak. I know that in the Land of Oz animals can speak our language, and so can the birds and bugs and fishes; but in my ears they sound merely like growls and chirps and croaks."
"Why is that?" asked the Cookie Cook in surprise.
"Once, many years ago, I cut the tail off a fox which had taunted me; and I stole some birds' eggs from a nest to make an omelet with, and also I pulled a fish from the river and left it lying on the bank to gasp for lack of water until it died. I don't know why I did those wicked things, but I did them. So the Emperor of the Winkies—who is the Tin Woodman and has a very tender tin heart—punished me by denying me any communication with beasts, birds or fishes. I cannot understand them when they speak to me, although I know that other people can do so, nor can the creatures understand a word I say to them. Every time I meet one of them I am reminded of my former cruelty, and it makes me very unhappy."