The Little Elephant

Long, long ago, when elephants didn’t have trunks yet, there lived in Africa a Little Elephant. His nose was short and stubby, like a little boot, and his head was full to the brim with questions.

The Little Elephant asked about everything in the world.

“Ostrich, why are your legs so long?”

“Because they have to be,” grumbled the Ostrich, and turned away.

“Giraffe, why do you have spots on your skin?”

“Because that’s how I was born,” said the Giraffe, and went on chewing her leaves.

“Auntie Hippo, why are your eyes red?”

“Oh, leave me in peace,” yawned Auntie Hippo. And — bloop! — she dived into the river.

“Uncle Baboon, why are melons so sweet?”

“I don’t know and I don’t want to know,” said the Baboon, scratching the back of his head.

And when the Little Elephant wouldn’t stop asking, the Ostrich gave him a shove with his wing, the Giraffe with her hoof, and the Baboon tugged his ear: don’t go poking your nose in, little one!

The Little Elephant didn’t take offence. He just pattered on and asked some more.

One morning he had a brand-new question. So big that it made his ears tremble.

“What does the Crocodile have for dinner?”

“Shhh!” everyone hissed at once.

The Ostrich hid his head under his wing. The Giraffe stared up at the sky. Auntie Hippo blew bubbles under the water. And Uncle Baboon scampered up to the highest branch.

Nobody answered.

So the Little Elephant went to the thorny bush where the little Kolokolo Bird sat.

“Kolokolo, do you know what the Crocodile has for dinner?”

The bird sighed.

“Go to the great grey-green Limpopo River, where the yellow trees grow. There you’ll see for yourself.”

“Thank you!” said the Little Elephant happily.

He took with him a hundred short red bananas, a hundred stalks of sweet sugar cane and a hundred crunchy green melons. He waved goodbye to everyone with his ear.

“Goodbye! I’m going to the Limpopo to find out what the Crocodile has for dinner!”

“Be careful!” his family called after him. But the Little Elephant was already stomping down the path: stomp-stomp, stomp-stomp.

He walked for a long time. The sun was hot, the grass rustled, and the Little Elephant ate melons. Crunch — and a rind dropped to the ground. Crunch — another one. He couldn’t pick the rinds up: how could he, with such a short little nose, when bending down with a full tummy is so hard?

At last he smelled cool air and mud. There it was — the great grey-green Limpopo River, with the yellow trees above it.

On a warm stone by the bank lay the Two-Coloured Python. He was so long and so still that he looked like a rock himself: a dark stripe, a light stripe.

“Good day,” said the Little Elephant, bowing politely. “Have you by any chance seen the Crocodile around here? And do you know what he has for dinner?”

The Python opened one eye.

“What a curious little one,” he hissed. “Yes, I’ve seen the Crocodile. But what he eats is something you’d better not know. Keep well away from him.”

But the Little Elephant had already noticed a log on the bank. A strange log: with two eyes and a tail.

The log winked.

“Excuse me,” said the Little Elephant, “have you seen the Crocodile around here?”

The log sighed, and big tears rolled from its eyes. Drip, drip.

“That’s me,” it said sweetly. “Come a little closer, little one. I’ll whisper in your ear what I have for dinner.”

The Little Elephant came closer. He leaned down. Closer still…

Snap!

The Crocodile caught him by his short little nose.

“Today,” he snuffled through his teeth, “I’m having a little elephant for dinner!”

Oh, how frightened the Little Elephant was! But he sat back on his hind legs, dug into the sand and pulled backwards.

“Led go!” he shouted. “You’re hurtig be!”

He was trying to say, “Let go, you’re hurting me!” But with his nose squeezed tight, that was all that came out.

The Crocodile pulls towards the river. The Little Elephant pulls away from the river. And the little nose in between gets longer. And longer. And longer!

Then the Python slid down from his stone.

“Hold on, little one!” he hissed, and wrapped himself twice around the Little Elephant’s hind legs. “Let’s pull together!”

The Little Elephant pulls. The Python pulls. And the Crocodile slaps the water with his tail — splash, splash! — and keeps on pulling.

“Once more!” hisses the Python. “Heave-e-e!”

Boom!

The Crocodile opened his jaws. The Little Elephant flew onto the sand, the Python onto the Little Elephant, and the Crocodile — splosh! — into the muddy water. Only bubbles were left. He must have been sulking because he got no dinner.

The Little Elephant sat up and squinted down at his nose. It was ever so long, right down to the ground. It swung like a rope in the wind.

“Oh,” the Little Elephant said quietly. “Now my nose isn’t the same at all.”

He wrapped his nose in wet banana leaves and dipped it into the cool water. Maybe it would shrink?

He waited and waited — but the nose didn’t shrink.

Just then — bzzzz! — a fly flew up and landed on the Little Elephant’s shoulder. And without even noticing how, the Little Elephant flicked his nose — swat! — and chased it away.

“Well, what a wonder!” he cried.

“You see?” the Python smiled. “Could you have done that with your short little nose?”

The Little Elephant tried again. His nose curled around a bunch of grass, pulled it up and popped it straight into his mouth. Yum! Then he scooped up some cool mud with his nose and slapped it onto his head. It made a lovely wet cap, and the sun didn’t burn any more. And then he sucked up some water and — pshhh! — gave himself a shower from head to tail.

“You know,” said the Little Elephant, “this might just be the best nose in the world.”

“Then have a good journey,” hissed the Python. “And next time, ask more carefully.”

The Little Elephant said thank you and set off home. On the way he picked up all the melon rinds he had dropped. Now he didn’t even have to bend down: one swing of his trunk — and into the bag.

At home everyone’s jaw dropped.

“What’s that you’ve got?” gawped the Ostrich.

“A trunk,” said the Little Elephant proudly. “The Crocodile gave it a little pull.”

“And what does the Crocodile have for dinner?” whispered the Giraffe.

“Today — nothing!” laughed the Little Elephant.

And then he showed them what he could do. He picked bananas from a high branch for Uncle Baboon. He splashed cool water over Auntie Hippo so she wouldn’t be too hot. And he put a mud cap on the Ostrich’s head to keep off the sun. At first the Ostrich blinked, and then he nodded happily too.

Uncle Baboon scratched the back of his head.

“Well, look at that,” he said. “Now I’m curious too.”

And the next morning the Little Elephant woke up with a new question.

“Ostrich, why do you hide your head under your wing when you get scared?”

“Because I have to!” grumbled the Ostrich, and, as always, gave him a shove with his wing.

But the Little Elephant — tweak! — tugged his tail feathers with his trunk. The Ostrich jumped right up in the air.

“Giraffe, why do you stare at the sky when you don’t want to answer?”

The Giraffe raised her hoof. But the Little Elephant sucked up water with his trunk and — pshhh! — drenched her from her little horns to her hooves.

“Auntie Hippo, why…”

“Oh, leave me in peace!” And bloop, into the river.

The Little Elephant put his trunk under the water and blew bubbles right into her ear: blub-blub-blub! Auntie Hippo shot out like a cork.

Uncle Baboon didn’t even wait for his question: whoosh, up to the highest branch. But the trunk reached up there too. It curled around his tail and gently — tug! — lifted the Baboon down to the ground.

The family looked at that trunk, looked at each other… and off they ran, one after another, to the great grey-green Limpopo River. To get trunks of their own.

At the front of them all ran Uncle Baboon. Now he, too, wanted to know what the Crocodile has for dinner.