Two dark green frogs sat on a stone in a small stream.
Cold water swirled around them.
They were enjoying the warm sun as it snuck from behind the puffy white
clouds. "Croak! Croak! I’m hungry," said Erling.
"There haven’t been many flies around here lately.
There’s not enough to eat he pouted."
"Croak! I’ve not seen a midge or mosquito in days.
I’m hungry too," replied Solveig.
Just then an olive green frog, bigger than both of them,
plopped on the banks of the stream, right in the mud.
Erling and Solveig were surprised to see the frog.
Not only was he big, but also he was wearing a jacket made from
Typhaceae grass, and had a set of gold colored bongo drums on his back.
"Who are you?" Solveig asked.
"Croak! I’m Cryfo," he answered.
Without croaking another sound,
he picked up the drums and began playing.
An irritating noise came from them.
It sounded like a large portmanteau being dragged across a wooden floor.
"Stop that noise. It’s far too loud and noisey!" shouted Erling.
Cryfo kept on playing.
"I can’t stand this," Solveig said, holding her hands to her head.
"Let’s go!" She leapt off the stone onto the other side of the stream,
followed by Erling. They both hopped away.
Cryfo kept playing his drums. As he danced and laughed.
Within just a few minutes, a horde of flies appeared at the stream.
They seemed to be attracted to Cryfo's drum music.
They swirled around him and landed all over the stones in the stream.
Cryfo suddenly stopped playing and gobbled down dozens of flies.
When he had his fill, he rubbed his plump stomach and disappeared into
the reeds.
Later that day Erling and Solveig came back to the stream.
"Looks like that drum-playing frog is gone.
What a noise that was! Croak! Croak!" Erling said.
"I hope he doesn’t come back again!" Solveig added.
The two frogs leapt onto their stone in the middle of the stream
and sat quietly listening to the water trickle as it flowed past.
The sun came out again and felt so warm on their cold, damp skin.
PLOP! "What was that noise?" Solveig asked, opening her eyes.
She spotted Cryfo again on the muddy banks of the stream.
"Oh no! It’s Cryfo the noisey drummer again."
Erling opened his eyes and looked at Cryfo. "
You’re no going to play your drums again, are you?
They are very loud! Can’t you go somewhere else?" he asked.
Erling picked the drum up and began playing.
Erling and Solveig didn’t want to listen to the music so they hopped
away.
Soon hundreds of flies and midges appeared.
They swarmed about the stream, buzzing and humming.
Cryfo stopped playing his drums and gobbled down dozens of flies and
midges.
His long, sticky tongue darted out of his mouth to catch them.
"Croak! They taste good," he smiled.
When he had his fill, he hopped
away.
Erling and Solveig came back later on.
"Good. He’s not here. Perhaps we can get some rest now," Solveig said.
"We can rest, but I’m hungry.
We’ve not had a fly or a mosquito this
whole day. Where are they all?" Erling complained.
They hopped onto the stone, closed their eyes and enjoyed the quiet.
The sun felt warm and they were happy.
After a few minutes they heard another PLOP!
"Oh, no!. It’s not that noisey Cryfo" yes, it’s him," Solveig sighed.
The drum music began. The noise was horribly loud.
Solveig and Erling watched Cryfo as he banged his drums.
They didn’t like the noise, so they hopped away as quickly as they
could. No sooner had they left than hundreds of flies,
midges, and mosquitoes appeared over the stream.
They made a loud droning sound and buzzed all around Cryfo.
The longer he played, the more insects came.
Erling stopped hopping.
"I think we should go back to the stream
and tell Cryfo that he has to go somewhere else to play his noisey
drums. After all, we were there first!" "You’re right, Erling.
We were. Let’s go back and tell him he has to leave,"
Solveig agreed.
The two frogs leapt and hopped all the way back to the stream.
They could hear the horrible drum music playing from far away.
When they plopped to the muddy banks they saw Cryfo playing his bongo
drums and they saw hundreds of fat, juicy flies, midges and mosquitoes.
"What’s this?" Erling asked.
Cryfo stopped playing.
His long, sticky tongue shot out of his mouth
and he started gobbling down the insects.
Solveig and Erling, seeing him, did the same.
They ate and ate and ate until they were full.
As they lay in the mud, all three too full to move, Solveig asked,
"Cryfo, do the flies come every time you play your drums?"
"Croak! Yes, so do the midges and mosquitoes.
You’ve always left too quickly and missed out," he told them.
"Well, well, well," said Erling. "We’ll not be leaving again.
You go ahead and play your drums anytime you want, Cryfo.
We’ll never be hungry again. For some reason they like your music."
From then on, three times a day, Cryfo played his drums.
It wasn’t long before Erling and Solveig got their own drums and learned
to play. Never again did they go hungry.
(c) 2017 DavidS / Emirin / L.McManus