Just So Stories Read online

  One dark evening he came back to all his dear families, and he coiled up his trunk and said, ‘How do you do?’ They were very glad to see him, and immediately said, ‘Come here and be spanked for your ‘satiable curtiosity.’

  ‘Pooh,’ said the Elephant’s Child. ‘I don’t think you peoples know anything about spanking; but I do, and I’ll show you.’

  Then he uncurled his trunk and knocked two of his dear brothers head over heels.

  ‘O Bananas!’ said they, ‘where did you learn that trick, and what have you done to your nose?’

  ‘I got a new one from the Crocodile on the banks of the great grey-green, greasy Limpopo River,’ said the Elephant’s Child. ‘I asked him what he had for dinner, and he gave me this to keep.’

  ‘It looks very ugly’ said his hairy uncle, the Baboon.

  ‘It does,’ said the Elephant’s Child. ‘But it’s very useful,’ and he picked up his hairy uncle, the Baboon, by one hairy leg, and hove him into a hornets’ nest.

  Then that bad Elephant’s Child spanked all his dear families for a long time, till they were very warm and greatly astonished. He pulled out his tall Ostrich aunt’s tail-feathers; and he caught his tall uncle, the Giraffe, by the hind-leg, and dragged him through a thorn-bush; and he shouted at his broad aunt, the Hippopotamus, and blew bubbles into her ear when she was sleeping in the water after meals; but he never let any one touch Kolokolo Bird.

  At last things grew so exciting that his dear families went off one by one in a hurry to the banks of the great grey-green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees, to borrow new noses from the Crocodile. When they came back nobody spanked anybody any more; and ever since that day, O Best Beloved, all the Elephants you will ever see, besides all those that you won’t, have trunks precisely like the trunk of the ‘satiable Elephant’s Child.

  I keep six honest serving-men

  (They taught me all I knew);

  Their names are What and Why and When

  And How and Where and Who.

  I send them over land and sea,

  I send them east and west;

  But after they have worked for me,

  I give them all a rest.

  I let them rest from nine till five,

  For I am busy then,

  As well as breakfast, lunch, and tea,

  For they are hungry men:

  But different folk have different views;

  I know a person small –

  She keeps ten million serving-men,

  Who get no rest at all!

  She sends ‘em abroad on her own affairs,

  From the second she opens her eyes –

  One million Hows, two million Wheres,

  And seven million Whys!

  The Sing-Song of Old Man Kangaroo

  NOT always was the Kangaroo as now we do behold him, but a Different Animal with four short legs. He was grey and he was woolly, and his pride was inordinate: he danced on an outcrop in the middle of Australia, and he went to the Little God Nqa.

  He went to Nqa at six before breakfast, saying, ‘Make me different from all other animals by five this afternoon.’

  Up jumped Nqa from his seat on the sand-flat and shouted, ‘Go away!’

  He was grey and he was woolly, and his pride was inordinate: he danced on a rock-ledge in the middle of Australia, and he went to the Middle God Nquing.

  He went to Nquing at eight after breakfast, saying, ‘Make me different from all other animals; make me, also, wonderfully popular by five this afternoon.’

  This is a picture of Old Man Kangaroo when he was the Different Animal with four short legs. I have drawn him grey and woolly, and you can see that he is very proud because he has a wreath of flowers in his hair. He is dancing on an outcrop [that means a ledge of rock] in the middle of Australia at six o’clock before breakfast. You can see that it is six o’clock, because the sun is just getting up. The thing with the ears and the open mouth is Little God Nqa. Nqa is very much surprised, because he has never seen a Kangaroo dance like that before. Little God Nqa is just saying, ‘Go away,’ but the Kangaroo is so busy dancing that he has not heard him yet.

  The Kangaroo hasn’t any real name except Boomer. He lost it because he was so proud.

  Up jumped Nquing from his burrow in the spinifex and shouted, ‘Go away!’

  He was grey and he was woolly, and his pride was inordinate: he danced on a sandbank in the middle of Australia, and he went to the Big God Nqong.

  He went to Nqong at ten before dinner-time, saying, ‘Make me different from other animals; make me popular and wonderfully run after by five this afternoon.’

  Up jumped Nqong from his bath in the salt-pan and shouted, ‘Yes, I will!’

  Nqong called Dingo – Yellow-Dog Dingo – always hungry, dusty in the sunshine, and showed him Kangaroo. Nqong said, ‘Dingo! Wake up, Dingo! Do you see that gentleman dancing on an ashpit? He wants to be popular and very truly run after. Dingo, make him so!’

  Up jumped Dingo – Yellow-Dog Dingo – and said, ‘What, that cat-rabbit?’

  Off ran Dingo – Yellow-Dog Dingo – always hungry, grinning like a coal-scuttle, – ran after Kangaroo.

  Off went the proud Kangaroo on his four little legs like a bunny.

  This, O Beloved of mine, ends the first part of the tale!

  He ran through the desert; he ran through the mountains; he ran through the salt-pans; he ran through the reed-beds; he ran through the blue gums; he ran through the spinifex; he ran till his front legs ached.

  He had to!

  Still ran Dingo – Yellow-Dog Dingo – always hungry, grinning like a rat-trap, never getting nearer, never getting farther, – ran after Kangaroo.

  He had to!

  Still ran Kangaroo – Old Man Kangaroo. He ran through the ti-trees; he ran through the mulga; he ran through the long grass; he ran through the short grass; he ran through the Tropics of Capricorn and Cancer; he ran till his hind legs ached.

  He had to!

  Still ran Dingo – Yellow-Dog Dingo – hungrier and hungrier, grinning like a horse-collar, never getting nearer, never getting farther; and they came to the Wollgong River.

  Now, there wasn’t any bridge, and there wasn’t any ferryboat, and Kangaroo didn’t know how to get over; so he stood on his legs and hopped.

  He had to!

  He hopped through the Flinders; he hopped through the Cinders; he hopped through the deserts in the middle of Australia. He hopped like a Kangaroo.

  First he hopped one yard; then he hopped three yards; then he hopped five yards; his legs growing stronger; his legs growing longer. He hadn’t any time for rest or refreshment, and he wanted them very much.

  Still ran Dingo – Yellow-Dog Dingo – very much bewildered, very much hungry, and wondering what in the world or out of it made Old Man Kangaroo hop.

  This is the picture of Old Man Kangaroo at five in the afternoon, when he had got his beautiful hind legs just as Big God Nqong had promised. You can see that it is five o’clock, because Big God Nqong’s pet tame clock says so. That is Nqong, in his bath, sticking his feet out. Old Man Kangaroo is being rude to Yellow-Dog Dingo. Yellow-Dog Dingo has been trying to catch Kangaroo all across Australia. You can see the marks of Kangaroo’s big new feet running ever so far back over the bare hills. Yellow-Dog Dingo is drawn black, because I am not allowed to paint these pictures with real colours out of the paint-box; and besides, Yellow-Dog Dingo got dreadfully black and dusty after running through the Flinders and the Cinders.

  I don’t know the names of the flowers growing round Nqong’s bath. The two little squatty things out in the desert are the other two gods that Old Man Kangaroo spoke to early in the morning. That thing with the letters on it is Old Man Kangaroo’s pouch. He had to have a pouch just as he had to have legs.

  For he hopped like a cricket; like a pea in a saucepan; or a new rubber ball on a nursery floor.

  He had to!

  He tucked up his front legs; he hopped on hi
s hind legs; he stuck out his tail for a balance-weight behind him; and he hopped through the Darling Downs.

  He had to!

  Still ran Dingo – Tired-Dog Dingo – hungrier and hungrier, very much bewildered, and wondering when in the world or out of it would Old Man Kangaroo stop.

  Then came Nqong from his bath in the salt-pans, and said, ‘It’s five o’clock.’

  Down sat Dingo – Poor-Dog Dingo – always hungry, dusty in the sunshine; hung out his tongue and howled.

  Down sat Kangaroo – Old Man Kangaroo – stuck out his tail like a milking-stool behind him, and said, ‘Thank goodness that’s finished!’

  Then said Nqong, who is always a gentleman, ‘Why aren’t you grateful to Yellow-Dog Dingo? Why don’t you thank him for all he has done for you?’

  Then said Kangaroo – Tired Old Kangaroo – ‘He’s chased me out of the homes of my childhood; he’s chased me out of my regular meal-times; he’s altered my shape so I’ll never get it back; and he’s played Old Scratch with my legs.’

  Then said Nqong, ‘Perhaps I’m mistaken, but didn’t you ask me to make you different from all other animals, as well as to make you very truly sought after? And now it is five o’clock.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kangaroo. ‘I wish that I hadn’t. I thought you would do it by charms and incantations, but this is a practical joke.’

  ‘Joke!’ said Nqong, from his bath in the blue gums. ‘Say that again and I’ll whistle up Dingo and run your hind legs off.’

  ‘No,’ said the Kangaroo. ‘I must apologize. Legs are legs, and you needn’t alter ‘em so far as I am concerned. I only meant to explain to Your Lordliness that I’ve had nothing to eat since morning, and I’m very empty indeed.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Dingo – Yellow-Dog Dingo, – ‘I am just in the same situation. I’ve made him different from all other animals; but what may I have for my tea?’

  Then said Nqong from his bath in the salt-pan, ‘Come and ask me about it tomorrow, because I’m going to wash.’

  So they were left in the middle of Australia, Old Man Kangaroo and Yellow-Dog Dingo, and each said, ‘That’s your fault.’

  This is the mouth-filling song

  Of the race that was run by a Boomer,

  Run in a single burst – only event of its kind –

  Started by Big God Nqongfrom Warrigaborrigarooma,

  Old Man Kangaroo first: Yellow-Dog Dingo behind.

  Kangaroo bounded away,

  His back-legs working like pistons –

  Bounded from morning till dark,

  Twenty-five feet to a bound.

  Yellow-Dog Dingo lay

  Like a yellow cloud in the distance –

  Much too busy to bark.

  My! but they covered the ground!

  Nobody knows where they went,

  Or followed the track that they flew in,

  For that Continent

  Hadn’t been given a name.

  They ran thirty degrees,

  From Torres Straits to the Leeuwin

  (Look at the Atlas, please),

  And they ran back as they came.

  S’posing you could trot

  From Adelaide to the Pacific,

  For an afternoon’s run –

  Half what these gentlemen did –

  You would feel rather hot,

  But your legs would develop terrific –

  Yes, my importunate son,

  You’d be a Marvellous Kid!

  The Beginning of the Armadillos

  THIS, O Best Beloved, is another story of the High and Far-Off Times. In the very middle of those times was a Stickly-Prickly Hedgehog, and he lived on the banks of the turbid Amazon, eating shelly snails and things. And he had a friend, a Slow-Solid Tortoise, who lived on the banks of the turbid Amazon, eating green lettuces and things. And so that was all right, Best Beloved. Do you see?

  But also, and at the same time, in those High and Far-Off Times, there was a Painted Jaguar, and he lived on the banks of the turbid Amazon too; and he ate everything that he could catch. When he could not catch deer or monkeys he would eat frogs and beetles; and when he could not catch frogs and beetles he went to his Mother Jaguar, and she told him how to eat hedgehogs and tortoises.

  She said to him ever so many times, graciously waving her tail, ‘My son, when you find a Hedgehog you must drop him into the water and then he will uncoil, and when you catch a Tortoise you must scoop him out of his shell with your paw.’ And so that was all right, Best Beloved.

  One beautiful night on the banks of the turbid Amazon, Painted Jaguar found Stickly-Prickly Hedgehog and Slow-Solid Tortoise sitting under the trunk of a fallen tree. They could not run away, and so Stickly-Prickly curled himself up into a ball, because he was a Hedgehog, and Slow-Solid Tortoise drew in his head and feet into his shell as far as they would go, because he was a Tortoise; and so that was all right, Best Beloved. Do you see?

  ‘Now attend to me,’ said Painted Jaguar, ‘because this is very important. My mother said that when I meet a Hedgehog I am to drop him into the water and then he will uncoil, and when I meet a Tortoise I am to scoop him out of his shell with my paw. Now which of you is Hedgehog and which is Tortoise? because, to save my spots, I can’t tell.’

  ‘Are you sure of what your Mummy told you?’ said Stickly-Prickly Hedgehog. ‘Are you quite sure? Perhaps she said that when you uncoil a Tortoise you must shell him out of the water with a scoop, and when you paw a Hedgehog you must drop him on the shell.’

  ‘Are you sure of what your Mummy told you?’ said Slow-and-Solid Tortoise. ‘Are you quite sure? Perhaps she said that when you uncoil a Hedgehog you must drop him into your paw, and when you meet a Tortoise you must shell him till he uncoils.’

  ‘I don’t think it was at all like that,’ said Painted Jaguar, but he felt a little puzzled; ‘but, please, say it again more distinctly.’

  ‘When you scoop water with your paw you uncoil it with a Hedgehog,’ said Stickly-Prickly. ‘Remember that because it’s important.’

  ‘But,’ said the Tortoise, ‘when you paw your meat you drop it into a Tortoise with a scoop. Why can’t you understand?’

  ‘You are making my spots ache,’ said Painted Jaguar; ‘and besides, I didn’t want your advice at all. I only wanted to know which of you is Hedgehog and which is Tortoise.’

  ‘I shan’t tell you,’ said Stickly-Prickly. ‘But you can scoop me out of my shell if you like.’

  ‘Aha!’ said Painted Jaguar. ‘Now I know you’re Tortoise. You thought I wouldn’t! Now I will.’ Painted Jaguar darted out his paddy-paw just as Stickly-Prickly curled himself up, and of course Jaguar’s paddy-paw was just filled with prickles. Worse than that, he knocked Stickly-Prickly away and away into the woods and the bushes, where it was too dark to find him. Then he put his paddy-paw into his mouth, and of course the prickles hurt him worse than ever. As soon as he could speak he said, ‘Now I know he isn’t Tortoise at all. But’ – and then he scratched his head with his un-prickly paw – ‘how do I know that this other is Tortoise?’

  ‘But I am Tortoise,’ said Slow-and-Solid. ‘Your mother was quite right. She said that you were to scoop me out of my shell with your paw. Begin.’

  ‘You didn’t say she said that a minute ago,’ said Painted Jaguar, sucking the prickles out of his paddy-paw. ‘You said she said something quite different.’

  ‘Well, suppose you say that I said that she said something quite different, I don’t see that it makes any difference; because if she said what you said I said she said, it’s just the same as if I said what she said she said. On the other hand, if you think she said that you were to uncoil me with a scoop, instead of pawing me into drops with a shell, I can’t help that, can I?’

  ‘But you said you wanted to be scooped out of your shell with my paw,’ said Painted Jaguar.

  ‘If you’ll think again you’ll find that I didn’t say anything of the kind. I said that your mother said that you were to scoop me out of my shell
,’ said Slow-and-Solid.

  ‘What will happen if I do?’ said the Jaguar most sniffily and most cautious.

  ‘I don’t know, because I’ve never been scooped out of my shell before; but I tell you truly, if you want to see me swim away you’ve only got to drop me into the water.’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ said Painted Jaguar. ‘You’ve mixed up all the things my mother told me to do with the things that you asked me whether I was sure that she didn’t say, till I don’t know whether I’m on my head or my painted tail; and now you come and tell me something I can understand, and it makes me more mixy than before. My mother told me that I was to drop one of you two into the water, and as you seem so anxious to be dropped I think you don’t want to be dropped. So jump into the turbid Amazon and be quick about it.’

  ‘I warn you that your Mummy won’t be pleased. Don’t tell her I didn’t tell you,’ said Slow-Solid.

  ‘If you say another word about what my mother said – ’ the Jaguar answered, but he had not finished the sentence before Slow-and-Solid quietly dived into the turbid Amazon, swam under water for a long way, and came out on the bank where Stickly-Prickly was waiting for him.

  ‘That was a very narrow escape,’ said Stickly-Prickly. ‘I don’t like Painted Jaguar. What did you tell him that you were?’

  ‘I told him truthfully that I was a truthful Tortoise, but he wouldn’t believe it, and he made me jump into the river to see if I was, and I was, and he is surprised. Now he’s gone to tell his Mummy. Listen to him!’

  They could hear Painted Jaguar roaring up and down among the trees and the bushes by the side of the turbid Amazon, till his Mummy came.

  ‘Son, son!’ said his mother ever so many times, graciously waving her tail, ‘what have you been doing that you shouldn’t have done?’