On every warm night of spring, the
voices of the Frogs arose in a
cheerful chorus. Some voices were low
and deep---these were the oldest and
wisest of the Frogs; at least, they
were old enough to have learned wisdom.
Some were high and shrill, and these
were the voices of the little Frogs
who did not like to be reminded of
the days when they had tails and no
legs.

"Kerrump! kerrump! I'm chief of this
pond!" croaked a very large bullfrog,
sitting in the shade of a water lily
leaf.

"Kerrump! kerrump! I'm chief of this
pond!" replied a hoarse voice from
the opposite bank.

"Kerrump! kerrump! I'm chief of this
pond!" boasted a third old Frog from
the furthest shore of the pond.

Now a long-legged white Crane was
standing near by, well hidden by the
coarse grass that grew at the water's
edge. He was very hungry that evening,
and when he heard the deep voice of
the first Bullfrog he stepped briskly
up to him and made a quick pass under
the broad leaf with his long, cruel
bill. The old Frog gave a frightened
croak, and kicked violently in his
efforts to get away, while over the
quiet pond, splash! splash! went the
startled little Frogs into deep water.

The Crane almost had him, when
something cold and slimy wound itself
about one of his legs. He drew back
for a second, and the Frog got safely
away! But the Crane did not lose his
dinner after all, for about his leg
was curled a large black water snake,
and that made a fair meal.

Now he rested awhile on one leg, and
listened. The first Frog was silent,
but from the opposite bank the second
Frog croaked boastfully:

"Kerrump! kerrump! I'm chief of
this pond!"

The Crane began to be hungry again.
He went round the pond without making
any noise, and pounced upon the second
Frog, who was sitting up in plain sight,
swelling his chest with pride, for
he really thought now that he was
the sole chief of the pond.

The Crane's head and most of his
long neck disappeared under the
water, and all over the pond the
little Frogs went splash! splash! into
the deepest holes to be out of the
way.

Just as he had the Frog by one hind
leg, the Crane saw something that
made him let go, flap his broad wings
and fly awkwardly away to the furthest
shore.

It was a mink, with his slender brown
body and wicked eyes, and he had crept
very close to the Crane, hoping to
seize him at his meal! So the second
Frog got away too; but he was so
dreadfully frightened that he never
spoke again.

After a long time the Crane got over
his fright and he became very hungry
once more. The pond had been still
so long that many of the Frogs were
singing their pleasant chorus, and
above them all there boomed the deep
voice of the third and last Bullfrog,
saying:

"Kerrump! kerrump! I'm chief of this
pond!"

The Crane stood not far from the
boaster, and he determined to silence
him once and for all. The next time
he began to speak, he had barely
said "Kerrump!" when the Crane had
him by the leg. He croaked and
struggled in vain, and in another
moment he would have gone down the
Crane's long throat. But just then a
Fox crept up behind the Crane and
seized him! The Crane let go of the
Frog and was carried off screaming
into the woods for the Fox's supper.

So the third Frog got away; but he was
badly lamed by the Crane's strong
bill, and he never dared to open his
mouth again.