Kancil the Mouse Deer Counts the Crocodiles

Far away, in the jungles of Malaysia and Indonesia, where the trees are tall and the rivers are wide and brown, there lived a tiny mouse deer called Kancil. He was no bigger than a cat, with thin little legs and big dark eyes. But he was the cleverest animal in the whole jungle. One morning, Kancil was standing on the bank of the river, looking across at the other side. On the far bank grew a tree full of ripe, sweet fruit. His mouth watered. But the river was too deep to wade and too wide to jump. And it was full of crocodiles. He could see their eyes and their knobbly backs, just above the water, waiting. Kancil thought for a moment. Then he called out, as loudly and grandly as he could. "Crocodiles! Crocodiles! Listen to me! I have a message from the King!" The crocodiles lifted their heads. The biggest one swam closer. "What message?" "The King is giving a great feast," said Kancil, "for all the animals of the jungle. He wants to be sure there is enough food for everybody. So he has sent me to count all the crocodiles in this river." The crocodiles were very excited. A feast! "How will you count us?" asked the biggest crocodile. "Easily," said Kancil. "You must all line up in a row, from this bank right across to the other bank, nose to tail. Then I will walk along your backs and count you, one by one." So the crocodiles all swam out and lined up, one after another, nose to tail, in a long knobbly row, all the way across the river. Kancil stepped onto the first one's back. "One," he said, and hopped to the next. "Two. Three. Four." He hopped from back to back, counting loudly. "Five, six, seven, eight..." The crocodiles lay very still, proud to be counted for the King's feast. "...nineteen, twenty!" said Kancil, and with one last hop, he jumped off the twentieth crocodile's back and landed on the far bank. "Twenty crocodiles," he said. "Thank you very much. That was very helpful." "When is the feast?" asked the biggest crocodile. Kancil trotted over to the fruit tree and picked the ripest, sweetest fruit. "There isn't one," he said. "I just needed to get across the river." The crocodiles snapped and splashed with rage. But Kancil was already sitting safe under the tree, eating his fruit. And when he wanted to go home again that evening, he simply walked round, the long way, by the bridge. The end.