The Frog Who Outsmarted a Jackal

- "Yes. A small snack, really. But don't bother me now, Jackal. I'm starting to feel hungry again, and you look like you'd make a fine dessert."

The bullfrog would hop over, careful not to be stepped on. Pumping out tiger’s chest, he would announce grandly, "Lie still, my friend! I am here to rid you of those pesky ticks and lice!"

Goutam Bhattacharyya

I n a quiet corner of a deep, emerald forest, where sunlight trickled down like golden rain and the earth remained soft with velvet moss, lived a large, stout bullfrog. He wasn't just any ordinary frog; he was known far and wide for possessing a wit much sharper than his neighbors.

The bullfrog lived a contented life in a muddy puddle cradled by the roots of an ancient silk-cotton tree. It wasn't a grand estate, but it was home, and he took great pleasure in the cool embrace of the mud and the rhythmic glug-glug of the water.

Not far from this puddle lived a magnificent tiger-striped, powerful, and feared by all. Yet, to the bullfrog, the tiger was not a predator, but a friend. It was an unusual bond that left the rest of the forest whispering.

Every afternoon, as the tiger stretched out on a sun-drenched patch of grass, the bullfrog would hop over, careful not to be stepped on. Pumping out his chest, he would announce grandly, "Lie still, my friend! I am here to rid you of those pesky ticks and lice!"

As he "searched" for pests, the frog would pluck at loose bits of fur, a gesture that made the tiger feel wonderfully pampered and clean. "I don't know what I'd do without you," the tiger would rumble, his purr vibrating through the ground. "And I without you," the frog would reply politely, knowing well that having a tiger as a guardian was the safest insurance in the forest.

However, this harmony irritated a certain jealous jackal. Sly as a shadow and always sniffing for trouble, the jackal decided he would take the bullfrog down a peg. "One day," the jackal hissed to himself, "I'll terrify that frog so badly he'll never dare hold his head high again!"

One morning, while the tiger dozed and the frog was busy grooming his friend, the jackal crept closer and let out a menacing snarl. "Move aside, you little lump of jelly! Do you know who I am? I am the hunter who eats creatures ten times your size!"

The bullfrog's heart hammered against his ribs like a drum. He was clever, but he was also small and prone to nerves. And nervous frogs often do very unpredictable things. In his fright, he accidentally gulped down a massive mouthful of the tiger's loose, shed fur.

As the jackal stalked closer, ready to pounce, the frog turned around slowly. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was so stuffed with orange-and-black fur that the strands poked out from his lips like fierce whiskers.

The jackal froze. "What… what is that in your mouth?" he stammered, his bravado vanishing.

The frog puffed out his throat to look as imposing as possible and croaked in his deepest, most gravelly voice, "Oh, this? Nothing much. Just the remains of a tiger I finished devouring for breakfast."

The jackal's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "You… you ate a tiger?"

The frog calmly spat out a matted knot of fur, as if it were the most mundane thing in the world. "Yes. A small snack, really. But don't bother me now, Jackal. I'm starting to feel hungry again, and you look like you'd make a fine dessert."

That was more than enough. With a terrified yelp, the jackal spun around and bolted into the thicket, tripping over roots and rocks in his desperate hurry to escape.

The bullfrog let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. The tiger, who had been pretending to sleep but had heard the entire exchange, opened one golden eye and chuckled. "You are a clever fellow," he rumbled. "Small in stature, perhaps, but a giant in mind."

The bullfrog bowed low. "In this forest, my friend, strength has its place… but wit makes even the smallest creature feel ten feet tall."

From that day on, no jackal-nor any other predator-dared trouble the big, fat bullfrog who lived under the silk-cotton tree. The forest wind carried his tale from leaf to leaf: the story of how a plump frog, armed with nothing but courage and a mouthful of tiger fur, proved that brains will always outmatch brawn.