What was the matter? Was he getting less skilful? Was the bait poor?
Not at all! His worms were as fat, his hooks and lines in as good order, and his eyesight was as keen as ever.
When Pak noticed also that the water was getting shallower, he was startled. Could it be that the pond was drying up?
Things grew worse day by day until at last there were no fish.
Where once sparkled the wavelets of a pond was now an arid waste of earth and stones, over which trickled hardly more than a narrow rill, which he could jump over. No fish and no pond meant no water for his rice fields. In horror at the idea of starving, or having to move away from his old home and become a pauper, Pak looked down from what had been the banks of the pond to find the cause of all this trouble. There in the mud among the pebbles he saw a bullfrog, nearly as big as an elephant, blinking at him with its huge round eyes.
In a rage the farmer Pak burst out, charging the frog with cruelty in eating up all the fish and drinking up all the water, threatening starvation to man and wife. Then Pak proceeded to curse the whole line of the frog’s ancestors and relatives, especially in the female line, for eight generations back, as Koreans usually do. [[169]]
But instead of being sorry, or showing any anger at such a scolding, the bullfrog only blinked and bowed, saying:
“Don’t worry, Farmer Pak. You’ll be glad of it, by and by. Besides, I want to go home with you and live in your house.
“What! Occupy my home, you clammy reptile! No you won’t,” said Pak.
“Oh! but I have news to tell you and you won’t be sorry, for you see what I can do. Better take me in.”