All he wanted was a drink of water.........

It wasn’t really a particularly hot day, but Crumbfilcher was all hot and sweaty by the time he made a stop at the first pool of water in the swamp that was situated not too far off from his home. He was all tired out and his heart was beating more rapidly than he could ever remember it beating, and he knew that it was the fear that caused his heart to beat in so rapid a fashion.

 

And I defy anyone, absolutely anyone, who’s just gone through what I’ve just gone through not to have his heart athumping, he said wryly to himself.

 

Crumbfilcher, you see, was a mouse but although he was just a mouse, he was not by any means a coward. Indeed, as far as mice went, Crumbfilcher was the bravest and most intrepid mouse that anyone could ever hope to come into contact with, but he had just lived through a most harrowing experience, the like of which there were few mice who could boast of going through and coming out with their skin completely intact. He had been chased by a weasel and here he was alive to tell of it!

 

Boy, I’m gonna have a swell time telling this story over and over again, he thought, not without a touch of smugness.

 

Then, having given thanks to Zeus, the mighty son of Koronos, he bent his head to drink of the cool waters of the pool. But he had taken just the one sip when his rapidly beating heart stopped beating! Well, his heart hadn’t really stopped beating but it certainly felt that way for a moment or so as he had heard a voice where he had not thought to hear one.

 

Not that damned weasel again, he thought, every sinew in his body trembling in fearful anticipation of imminent death!

 

No!

 

Thankfully, from Crumbfilcher's point of view, it was not that damned weasel! It was merely a damned frog, all shiny green and wet, sitting on a small mound of mud in the middle of the pool! Well, Crumbfilcher, as we have said, was by no means a cowardly mouse and, whatever his fears consisted of, Crumbfilcher had no fear of frogs and he flung an extremely dirty look, one which would have upset most anyone who on the receiving end of such a look. The frog was clearly made of sterner stuff than most; it seemed that he was completely oblivious of the less than friendly look with which Crumbfilcher skewered him. With a merry twinkle in his eyes and a cheery lilt to his voice, the frog continued speaking.

 

“Howdy, stranger mouse. I trust that it wouldn’t be too much of an intrusion into your private affairs if I were to ask from where it is that you have come, all panting, to the shores of my marshland in what can only be described as so desperate a manner? If one might be permitted to hazard a guess, just a wild guess stranger, it seems to me that you’ve had one giant scare, perhaps the grandfather of all scares”, with a tinkling laugh.

 

“Of course, it might be the grandmother of scares or one that is a result of a combination of both grandparents”, politely, but with his eyes twinkling even more merrily.

 

The frog continued: “Now, my friend, you need not be shy to tell me all. Be frank, yes, be absolutely frank with me and I promise that you’ll find in me a good and true friend for, if I deem you to be a deserving fellow, I swear by the head of the mighty son of Koronos that I will take you to my home where I will heap on you treasure such as your mousy mind can barely imagine.

 

“Now, ol’boy, speak, for I am all ears!”

 

“Who are you, sir frog? But, before you set about introducing yourself, I must complain about your unmannerly approach just now for, if you care to know, I almost choked on just the sip of water that I had taken!”

 

The frog’s cheeks puffed out in the most self-satisfied manner imaginable and there was more than a trace of prideful arrogance in his voice as he made his reply.

 

“My name, panting mouse, is Puffcheek and I rule as king over all the frogs who dwell in this lovely marshland. Now, perhaps you’ll tell me whom it is that you are for, merely by looking at you, I am convinced that you are a most worthy and valiant fellow; a scion of royalty, perhaps?

 

“You must know, sir panting mouse, that I’m hardly ever wrong in my judgments as regards worth or the lack of it thereof, in the folk who, blessed by the immortal gods who dwell on high Olympus, are lucky enough to make my acquaintance; I am, after all, a king.

 

“If, as I suspect, you are truly a worthy fellow I will, as I have said, shower you with wealth beyond your imagining!”

 

Sketching a bow, Crumbfilcher replied: “Your judgment, frog king, is, I must admit, truly of the highest order, simply first class!

 

“My name is Crumbfilcher, but what is there to say about my kindred? As you have discerned, I am a mouse and surely the nature of mice is known to all manner of creatures who inhabit the whole wide earth, whether such creatures be dwellers on the solid land or whether they be those who make their habitation in the waters spread abundantly over the earth. Even those creatures who dwell more in the skies that lie far above the land and the waters know fully the nature of my kind.

 

“As to my lineage, frog king, you are absolutely spot on for, when you identify me as a scion of royalty, you are quite simply correct for I am the son of the great Breadgnawer whose fame, I do not doubt, will have reached the ears of you and your folk, marsh dwellers though you be.

 

“But, although my dear old pop is renowned amongst my folk and far beyond, the royal blood that truly flows through my veins comes from my mom, the sweetest mother known to any son. Mother is the daughter of a king: Lickmill, daughter of king Hamnibbler, our illustrious king. I was born in the coziest hovel imaginable and I was brought up on figs and nuts and cheese and all other manner of fine things!”

 

Coughing delicately, the mouse continued: “My dear king Puffcheek, one does not, of course, wish to sound boastful, but when you name me a valiant fellow I am constrained to admit to being one for I have never dreaded the din of battle; rather, I am always to found in the vanguard of the warriors of my people. Wherever the strife is most strenuous, you may be sure that there you will find me and I may say, sire, that my place amongst the warriors of my folk is secure”, he finished with pride.

 

“I knew it! I knew it! Immediately I set my eyes upon you, I said to myself ‘here is a worthy fellow’, cried Puffcheek. “Come, we shall be friends”, he declared grandly.

 

Crumbfilcher stared at the frog for a long while in a somewhat bemused manner, then he spoke.

 

“My dear frog king, you say we should be friends which seems all well and good, for I do not doubt that you speak truly; but how is that to be? My folk and yours are not alike in any particular. You frogs inhabit the marshes and watery wastes of the earth and have done so ever since your impious ancestors were turned into what you now are by almighty Zeus when they so gratuitously mocked mighty Leto, mother of Artemis the huntress and the golden-haired Apollo.

 

“And a well-deserved punishment for impious behavior it was that the son of Koronos inflicted upon your ancestors, if you’ll forgive my saying so.”

 

Puffcheek merely laughed.

 

“We mice, on the other hand, are a land dwelling race, tightly knitted with mankind”, this with a slight shudder, “and we feed on everything and anything that mankind feeds upon; not a single one of the dainties that man enjoys passes us by: bread or cake; ham or cheese; if man feeds on it, so do we.

 

“There is no peasant’s home, be it ever so humble where my kindred are not to be found; and it is the same for the home of the mighty: the incomparable Heracles and the valiant Achilleus had us for company. Even the mighty gods of Olympus live with us as companions. Why, even in the temples and shrines of mighty Athena, the virgin daughter of Zeus, even there you will find my kindred.

 

“What then, I ask again, do we have in common? How can someone like myself be friends in any meaningful manner with such as yourself.”

 

There was an ironic twinkle in the eyes of the frog king as he answered somewhat slyly.

 

“Perhaps my assessment of your valor was not as spot on as my assessment of your bloodline. Certainly you don’t seem to be as valorous as I had imagined you to be, or even perhaps as valorous as you had imagined yourself to be. Oh, I’m certain that you are valiant enough in your own way”, as the mouse bristled at this attack at his valor, “but then, valor does have its limits, I daresay.

 

“Putting aside the matter of valor for the nonce, and if you do not consider it too much of an intrusion into your private affairs, what was it that brought you to the shores of my domain completely breathless and your whole body trembly?”

 

An irresistible shudder ran through Crumbfilcher’s body at Puffcheek’s question and he flung yet another dirty look, one that was even dirtier than the previous one, at the frog king, but the present look made no more impression on Puffcheek than the former look had.

 

Crumbfilcher answered: “I would have you know, frog king, that there a few things under heaven of which I am afraid. I do not fear man, even though man is a veritable giant compared to such as you and I for, when that giant is asleep, I can bite at fingers or nibble to my heart’s content at a heel whilst the giant, in his slumbery state, dreams of stuff he will never have in his waking state. Try that, if you dare”, sneeringly.

 

“But listen, sir Puffcheek, there is something of man that I fear and I admit that I fear it greatly. There is an infernal device that man has made; he calls it a mouse trap! A mouse trap, I tell you! I am convinced in my mind that only the Lady Athena herself could have put the knowledge of such a device in man’s mind and, as for it’s making, I am equally convinced that only Lord Hephaestus, Queen Hera’s device-creating son, could have guided his fingers in the making of what has become a bane to all of my kind!”

 

Crumbfilcher stopped and took a drink of water, for he was getting somewhat agitated and there was a wild sort of look in his eyes as he thought of the woes that he and his kind faced. Puffcheek nodded in a sympathetic manner, but he maintained a decorous silence.

 

A bit calmer for the sip of water, Crumbfilcher continued: “Another thing that I fear is the far-seeing hawk, for almighty Zeus has endowed that master of the skies with such a keen eyesight that, even when he soars in the highest reaches of the heavens, he can pick out a mouse, be it ever so tiny, in the grain field as he or she goes about his or her own affairs.”

 

Once again, the frog nodded in a most understanding manner.

 

“But there is that which I fear even more than man’s infernal traps or the hawk’s unerring sight; something that strikes not just fear in my heart but terror, and not just in my heart but in the hearts of all of my kind. It is the weasel! Yes, the weasel!

 

“With a modicum of care, the thoughtful mouse can avoid trap or hawk. But imagine, my dear frog king, even deep in one’s hole, where neither trap nor hawk threaten, there’s no guarantee that one’s safe from that odious creature. The weasel, yes the weasel, is the true bane of our existence for almighty Zeus has given it the power to search us out and do us to death even when we lie inoffensively in our holes!

 

“I have only to tell you then, that this very day, just before I came to the shore of your marshy home, I escaped the attentions of one of these dreaded and so dreadful monsters. And, let me tell you,” and here the mouse’s voice took on a distinctly prideful note, “it is not every mouse who finds him or herself of interest to a weasel that lives to tell of it!”

 

Puffcheek stared at him with admiration in his eyes and he all but applauded the mouse.

 

“Well, my estimation of you was absolutely right after all. It is rare that I make mistakes when I make such estimations of worthiness or the lack of it and I am pleased that I did not make one in this instance. Why, you are a veritable hero! Well worthy to be my friend and I declare without hesitation that I am proud to describe you as friend!

 

“Now friend, for I declare that you and I are friends from now on and for all time to come, a valiant fellow such as you are must not fear the waters. When almighty Zeus first brought my race into existence, and, by the by, I agree with you that the punishment inflicted upon my ancestors was absolutely justified for their lese-majesty against Apollo’s divine mother, he gave us the ability to live both on land and in water. So my friend, put aside any fears that you may entertain about venturing to visit my home; why, you’ll be with me and I assure you that you’ll be perfectly safe! Moreover, I promise that you’ll see a thing or two that will leave you breathless and astounded!

 

“Be of good cheer, therefore, and hop right on my back, hold on tight and let us be on our way!”

 

And with a cheery “your steed awaits”, Puffcheek hopped to the shore and turned his back towards Crumbfilcher who sprang lightly on. Once he was well settled and holding tightly onto the frog, away they went.

*****

Crumbfilcher was at first immensely pleased with this new adventure, his first ever foray on water. He was positively ecstatic.

 

Wow! Not just the escape from the weasel, but a visit to Puffcheek’s home! Boy, I’ll be the envy of everyone back at home, he thought.

 

But as the duo moved more and more into mid-water, his fear once again rose to the fore and began to get the better of him. Tearing at his fur, he drew his hind feet ever tighter around the frog’s midriff and, uttering pitiful, plaintive cries, he spread out his tail on the water trying to use it somewhat like an oar.

 

“Damn it! Oh, damn it!”, he cried out in bitter accents. “I’m certain that the beautiful Europa did not feel this way when the bull ran off with her and sped her across the waves to Crete! Oh, why did I ever consent to this mad adventure. Take me back Puffcheek! Please take me.........”

 

But even as he was bemoaning his fate and feeling sorry for himself, there, just before them, rose a snake, an enemy to both frogs and mice, from the waters. Without a second thought, Puffcheek dived for the bottom of the marsh and Crumbfilcher, his grip weakened as a result of the fear occasioned in his mind by the appearance of the snake, slid off the frog’s smooth back and was left floundering in the water! Once, twice and yet a third time he sank and each time he came back up screaming horribly and kicking desperately, but it was all hopeless. As the weight of his soaked fur prepared to drag him down for what would be last time, Crumbfilcher cried out with his last breath.

 

“Puffcheek, you traitorous frog, your perfidy will not go unpunished. On land, I would have bested you in boxing, wrestling or running but you treacherously lured me into the water where I am completely helpless. But be certain: the eyes of justice never sleep and you and your folk will rue this day for the race of frogs will pay a fearful price for this betrayal when the great army of mice come to avenge my death!”

 

And so Crumbfilcher died, but his death had not gone unseen. Sitting on the soft bank going about his business, Lickplatter had seen and heard everything and, uttering a sharp cry of dismay, he went off hotfoot to tell the mice the evil tidings.

*****

There was great wrath amongst the mice when the news of Crumbfilcher’s unhappy demise reached them and the heralds set out at once to summon everyone to a conclave the next morning at the hovel of Breadgnawer, father of the luckless Crumbfilcher whose body, floating mid-water, could not even be brought home for the final burial rites to be performed. So the mice came, one and all they came, and Breadgnawer spoke to them in the most bitter accents.

 

“Friends, you find me in extremely sad plight. I am utterly desolate for I have lost three sons; three sons whom I had hoped would be a comfort to me in my old age. The first was slain by a hateful weasel who caught him just outside his own hole. The second was done to death by cruel men by means of that odious newfangled device they call a trap. And now, my darling Crumbfilcher floats on the waters of the swamp, drowned on account of the treachery of those perfidious amphibians. For none of these sons have I even had the consolation of a dead body so that I could send them off to Pluto's’ dark kingdom in a manner fitting and proper for such valiant sons!”

 

He gnashed his teeth awhile, then: “But I am not alone in my loss. Here is Cheesestealer who has lost two sons to those cruel masters of the skies and here is Graineater.........

 

“But of what use is it to recount? Who is there amongst us who has not lost a father or a mother, a son or a daughter, a brother or a sister? Our lives are short and brutish, beset, as we are, by hateful enemies on every side.

 

“But, my dear friends, if we are unable to revenge ourselves against men, weasels and hawks, we ought, at least, to be able to do so against these treacherous amphibians, the descendants of impious ancestors! This despicable act of treachery, all the more galling because my brave boy had only just escaped the attentions of an odious weasel, clearly shows that these amphibian folk have yet to purge themselves of the impiety that first brought their race into existence. Ah! To have outwitted an odious weasel and then to fall to the knavish behavior of a mere frog!”

 

He once more gnashed his teeth before he went on.

 

“Therefore, I call upon you all: let us arm ourselves for war and proceed forthwith to wreak our vengeance upon that despicable race!”

 

A few others spoke and every speech was more or less in the same vein and there was unanimity in the council of the mice: the frogs were to be made to pay a high price for their unparalleled treachery. War, red war would be waged against the wicked frogs. So every mouse went off to his hole or hovel and made ready his arms.

 

For the greaves around their legs, these cunning rodents used the beans on which they fed at night and their breastplates were cleverly constructed from the skin of a dead weasel. Using the shells of nuts for helmets, they utilized skewers for spears. All was ready and at the crack of dawn the next day, the warlike mice marched out in battle array; it was a wonderful sight to behold, and they came to the shore of the marsh.

*****

The commotion on the shore of their marshy home aroused the attention of the frogs who summoned a council in order to determine what the matter might be. But they didn’t have to wait long in order to know what it was that the matter was, for the council had hardly been called to order when a herald came from the mice with a declaration of war.

 

“Hear this, you perfidious frogs, descendants of a bunch of impious ancestors! The valiant army of the mice, a pious and gods-fearing folk, demand that you arm yourselves forthwith and come out to do battle; and this for the sake of the most noble and ever valiant Crumbfilcher whom your king, the treacherous Puffcheek whose name will live forever in infamy, caused to drown in the most despicable manner imaginable and whose body, even now, lies floating on the cruel waters of your blasted marshland!”

 

Now, although the frogs were no less a valiant folk than were the mice, there was quite a bit of anger directed towards king Puffcheek, for there were quite a number of the folk at the council meeting that morning who felt that the king’s actions had been ungentlemanly at the least, and such actions, in the view of this group, had brought about an unnecessary war and there were suggestions by members of this faction that perhaps a delegation ought to be sent out to treat with the mice and offer the aggrieved rodents adequate reparations in recompense for Crumbfilcher’s unfortunate demise. But Puffcheek was having none of that and he set about promptly to squelch any such ideas.

 

“Dear friends; loyal subjects! These allegations against me are mere tripe and hogwash! Absolute baloney! Of course, I didn’t kill the mouse and I had nothing whatsoever to do with his death. I didn’t even see the fellow die! It seems to me entirely probable that that poor unfortunate drowned whilst amusing himself in the waters of our marshy home. Probably trying to swim like a fish, or perhaps a frog”, slyly. “You folk all know how feckless these rodents can be.”

 

There was much laughter and nodding of heads; no one had to tell them how feckless mice could be.

 

Puffcheek continued: “The charge of impiety really rankles! Why, ever since the impious act of our forebears, our race has been as pious and gods-fearing as anyone could reasonably expect! Do they really believe that they can blunt our arms by cries of impiety? Impiety! If any race has expiated any act of impiety, it is our own noble race. By the by, if the mighty son of Koronos really thought that the act of alleged impiety was that grave, would he have given us the ability to survive both on land and in the waters?

 

“And as for the proposal to offer these mice something in reparations, well........ Reparations for what, I ask! That proposal smacks of cowardice to me! Rank defeatism is what I call it!

 

“For my own part, I will have nothing to do with cowardly conduct! It is time and enough that these rodents are taught a lesson in manners; they oughtn’t to go about bringing baseless charges against innocent folk! Me! What have I do with mice? We must be bold and decisive. Let us arm ourselves and put an end to this rodent nuisance once and for always”.

 

There were loud cheers from the frogs as the listened to the king’s bold speech.

 

“Our best strategy, in my kingly view, is to make a stand near our marsh where the bank is steepest so that when these arrogant land-lubbers come charging, all that we need do is to seize them by their helmets and help them along into the waters of the marsh. I fancy that Crumble, or whatever it was they named the floater, will have quite a few more of his compatriots for company before this day runs out.

 

“When it is all over, I decree that we’ll set up a lasting memorial on the bank of our marsh to commemorate our great victory, for, although I foresee a stern struggle against these impertinent folk, I predict that we will record a famous victory over the mice.

 

“We will fight them on our shores and we will fight them in our waters! We will chase them, their tails between their legs, all the way back to their miserable holes and hovels. We shall never surrender!”

 

The congregation was carried away by the king’s rhetoric and everyone rose spontaneously to give him a noisy standing ovation. Now they all were for the fight and without further ado, every one rushed off to his own house to don his armor.

 

The frogs were just as clever in the designing of their arms as had been the mice. For greaves, the used mallow leaves and they carried radish leaves for their shields. For spears, they carried rushes and they set snail shells upon their heads to serve for helmets. Then they marched out in battle array, no less glorious than were their opponents, and made their stand at the bottom of the steepest bank and, brandishing their weapons, they shouted for battle.

*****

Now, these earth-bound shenanigans had not escaped notice in higher quarters for these goings-on were being watched with keen interest high up on Mount Olympus, for the dispute between the mice and the frogs had caught the attention of Zeus, the mighty son of Koronos, as he lolled on his couch feeling somewhat bored. Summoning all the gods and goddesses to him Zeus drew their attention to the warlike preparations that mice and frogs alike were engaged in and he wondered aloud whether any of the gods would be willing to lend aid to any side that might find itself sorely pressed as the hostilities progressed. When no one answered, the all-father turned to the Lady Athena and addressed her.

 

“Well, virgin daughter, I am certain that you will gladly lend aid to the mice for they are forever running about in your shrines enjoying the fat morsels which they pick from the sacrifices which the sons of men offer gladly in order to gain your favor.”

 

But the Lady wasn’t having any of that.

 

“Pop, nothing on Olympus or on earth will by any means lead me to lend my aid to the mice for their mischief is extremely vexatious to me. Those of them that inhabit my temples do not restrict themselves to picking the fat morsels that drop from the sacrificial offerings brought by mortal men. They go on to nibble at the garlands that that the sons of men place to adorn my house making them unsightly and they they spoil the lamps that provide light in my shrines on account of their insatiable thirst for the sweet olive oil used for the lighting of the lamps!

 

“But I have an even greater grouse against these terrible rodents than the depredation they cause in my shrines; after all, when all is said and done, I don’t actually live in any of my shrines or temples. But right here on high Olympus, in my very own chamber, the mice ate holes in a robe which I’d just woven, and you will recall, dad, that I have more than once complained about the rodent problem that we have here on Olympus. We really ought to have a god assigned full time to the matter of rodent control. Mice, rats......

 

“Anyway, the robe that I speak of was woven from the finest threads anyone can imagine and I was exceedingly proud of my handiwork. Well, I have had to have it repaired and the folk in Hephaestus’ shop who mended it charged an arm and a leg for the repairs, greedy little hirelings that they are! They would have charged more if I had not haggled fairly sharply!

 

“Moreover, consider this: I borrowed those fine threads with which I wove the robe! Now I am stuck with two debts: the debt to person from whom I got the fine threads, as well as the debt to Hephaestus' greedy little hirelings who carried out the repairs on the partly eaten robe! Lord Hephaestus, you really ought to do something about your underlings, you know.

 

“At all events, given these circumstances, I am sure that you will understand, father, why I will not be lending any aid whatsoever to those rodents.”

 

Zeus replied: “Poor girl! Well daughter, I can see that you have more than adequate grounds to be extremely vexed with the mice. In these circumstances, I must confess to feeling somewhat sorry for those wretched mice; they’ll stand absolutely no chance since you’ll obviously be throwing your lot in with the frogs.”

 

“Surely, virgin sister, you’ll not be lending aid to the descendants of those who desecrate deity!”, cried Artemis, instinctively snatching at her silver bow!

 

Athena threw an ironic glance the way of the huntress as she replied.

 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, virgin sister! And mind how you snatch at that pretty bow of yours or I'll wrap round your neck! Anyway, I’ll not be lending my aid to the frogs, and its not just because they are descended from those who thought it was hip to insult one who was infinitely superior to them! By the way, pop, I’ve always thought that the punishment you meted out to those impious folk was a bit on the light side; you all know what I did to Medusa when she tried that impiety stuff on me!

 

“The point though is not so long ago, dad, I returned exhausted from stern battle. All I wanted to do was to crash on my sleeping couch and catch a bit of shuteye. But did I get any restful sleep? Absolutely not! Those infernal amphibians kept me awake for the rest of the night with their incessant croaking and there I lay, sleepless and all headachy, counting the rafters until the cocks announced the dawn of a new day!

 

“But hey, listen dad, sister Artemis and all you immortals. Why bother to give support to either side? Why don’t we just sit back and let both sides sock it out to each other while we watch the fun? Life up here on Olympus is boring enough at the best of times and I’m certain that we could all use some comic relief; I know that I could!”

 

“Well, with all the preparations those little ones have been engaged in, it certainly promises to be an epic battle at all events”, declared Apollo, the golden-haired one, laughing gaily. “I think the glorious Lady Athena is absolutely right, as she almost always is. Yes, pop; let’s do just as the Lady says.”

 

Apollo’s view reflected the general outlook and that great assembly cried out in support so, bowing his head in acceptance, the mighty son of Koronos indicated that he also had come to the view that some comic relief for the inhabitants of Olympus was on the cards and, as the only show in town was the upcoming battle between the rodents and the amphibians, that was what the immortals of Olympus were going to watch.

*****

One thing was certain, that day: any ennui suffered by the immortals of Olympus was set aside that day for the battle was certainly an epic one and had all the stuff of which legends are made! The acts of valor done on both sides were numerous, uncountable really, and the bank of the marsh as well as its waters were reddened with the blood of the heroes who lost their lives that day. But in the ranks of the army of mice was a young hero, Bitstealer was his name, whose deeds of valor that day forever put him in the ranks of such unforgettable heroes as the incomparable Heracles, the son of Zeus himself and Alkmene, and the unmatchable Achilleus, the son of Thetis, the nymph, and Peleus.

 

Standing on that bank that day, Bitstealer swore a mighty oath that he would not leave the field of battle until he had destroyed the entire race of frogs; at least every single one of that race that called the marsh home! And he certainly would have achieved his declared aim, for such was his prowess that after the battle had been ongoing for a while the frogs just melted away in fear whenever he uttered his war cry in a manner similar to the manner adopted by the Trojans when they heard the war cry of Achilleus. That there was a remnant amongst the frog dwellers of that marshland that day was due entirely to the fact that the mighty son of Koronos had pity for the sad plight of the poor frogs and he ordered the Lady Athena and Ares, whose greatest delight is to engage in warfare, to go at once to the field of battle and drive Bitstealer from the fray. But, for once, Ares was not over eager to go to battle.

 

Ares said: “My father, I’m not at all certain that my might, even in combination with that of the glorious lady, will be sufficient to bring about any meaningful succor to these poor beleaguered frogs for, in all my time on the field of battle, I have never come across nor heard tell of a hero quite in the mold of this phenomenal mouse!

 

“My suggestion is that we, all of us gods together, go to their aid and that you, mighty Zeus, employ those terrible weapons which you alone wield; the weapons with which you brought the Titans and Giants low in past time!”

 

Athena concurred with the assessment made by Ares so the mighty son of Koronos hurled his scathing thunderbolts. The lightnings flashed in the heavens and mighty Olympus shook and the very earth quaked at the violence of that fearsome barrage. Fear struck the hearts of the combatants on both sides and they all made haste to leave the field.

 

Well, not quite all of them! That incomparable hero, the matchless warrior, the indomitable Bitstealer, disdaining to flee, stood his ground and, seeing the enemy turn tail and flee cried out:

 

“See there! They flee!”

 

His triumphant shout accompanied by his terrible war cry, which rose above even that fearful din, rallied the mice to him and they pursued the fleeing enemy and wreaked even more havoc so that the later slaughter was greater even than the former slaughter had been! So determined was Bitstealer to carry out his avowed intention! Clearly, more drastic measures were required if the marsh-dwelling frogs were not to be wholly annihilated! So, Zeus sent a new ally to aid the frogs in their dire predicament.

 

This new army came suddenly upon the mice. Their backs were mailed, hard and horny, and their claws were crooked. Though their gait was limping, yet they moved as rapidly as required, and their mouths were as sharp as shears. Their eyes were in their breasts, and their arms, all eight of them, were long, lean and very, very strong. The race of men call them crabs; the mice, that day, simply called them terrors! Using their shears-sharp mouths, the bit at the tails and feet of the mice and using their crooked claws, they broke their spears. A great terror fell upon the mice; their spirit was finally broken and they fled the field en masse. Only Bitstealer stood his ground, fighting the new enemy until he fell where he stood! And his last thought was: how can a mouse die better than by facing fearful odds!

 

And so, just as Helios was on the last, homeward leg of his daily journey across the skies, the battle came to an end!

 

But though Bitstealer is long dead, he is not forgotten, for the race of mice remember him even till this day. In hovels and holes in every land that mice dwell in, when the nuts are brought out and the moldy cheese is eaten then the story of Bitstealer is told all over again and the race of mice revel in his reflected glory as they recall that war cry which struck so much terror in the hearts of the frogs: to dare! still to dare! ever to dare!

 

Finis!

 

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 29.06.2015

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Widmung:
To my ladies: Mary and Onohitarhe.