The Tortoise Who Flew with Two Ducks (from Kalila and Dimna)

Once upon a time, beside a cool, green pond, there lived a tortoise named Kashif.

Kashif had a round brown shell, short sturdy legs, and a big friendly smile. He loved the pond. He loved the lily pads and the tall reeds. But most of all, he loved to talk.

His two best friends were a pair of white ducks named Nour and Nadi. They lived at the pond too. Every day, they paddled beside him while he talked and talked.

"Did you know," Kashif would say, "that the reeds are taller this year? And did you know that the frog on the big rock has a cousin? And did you know..."

The ducks would laugh. "Kashif," they would say, "you know everything!"

But one summer, the pond began to change.

The sun was hot, day after day. No rain fell. Slowly, slowly, the water began to shrink. The lily pads sat on dry mud. The reeds turned brown and crunchy. The fish swam closer and closer together in the middle.

One morning, Nour and Nadi paddled over to Kashif. They looked sad.

"Kashif," said Nour, "the pond is drying up. Soon there will be no water left at all."

"We have to fly away," said Nadi. "Over the hills, there is a big blue lake. It never dries up. We must go there, or we will be too thirsty."

Kashif's smile slipped away. "But I cannot fly," he said. "I am a tortoise. I can only walk. And it would take me a whole year to walk over the hills."

The ducks looked at each other. They did not want to leave their friend behind. Not ever.

Then Nadi had an idea.

"Wait here," she said.

She flew off and came back with a long, strong stick in her beak.

"Here is the plan," said Nadi. "Nour will hold one end of the stick in her beak. I will hold the other end. You will hold on to the middle with your mouth. Bite it tight. Then we will fly, and carry you with us!"

Kashif's eyes grew wide. "I will fly?" he said. "Me? A flying tortoise?"

"Yes," said Nour. "But there is one very important thing. You must keep your mouth closed the whole time. The whole way. No matter what happens. No matter what you see. No matter what anyone says. Not one word."

"Not one word," said Nadi. "Can you do that?"

Kashif laughed. "Of course I can," he said. "Easy-peasy. I will not say a single thing."

The ducks looked at each other again. Kashif was not very good at being quiet.

"Promise?" they said.

"I promise," said Kashif.

So Nour took one end of the stick. Nadi took the other end. And Kashif bit down on the middle. Chomp! He held on tight.

"Ready?" said the ducks, through the corners of their beaks.

Kashif could not say yes. He just wiggled his legs.

The ducks flapped their wings. Flap, flap, flap. They ran along the dry mud. Flap, flap, flap. And then, up they went!

Up, up, up!

Kashif's feet left the ground. His tummy did a flip. The pond grew smaller and smaller beneath him. The trees looked like little green bushes. The path looked like a thin brown string.

He was flying!

The wind rushed past his face. The sky was all around him, big and blue. White clouds floated by like fluffy sheep. It was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him.

Kashif wanted to shout, "Look at me! I am flying!" But he remembered. Not one word. He kept his mouth shut tight.

Then they flew over a village with white houses and round blue roofs.

Down below, some children were playing. They looked up. They pointed. They began to laugh and shout.

"Look!" called a boy. "Look up there! A tortoise is flying!"

"Two ducks are carrying a tortoise on a stick!" cried a girl. "How funny! How clever!"

Kashif heard them.

Funny? Him? He was not silly. He was flying! And it was his idea to come along. He wanted to explain. He wanted to tell them everything. He wanted to say, "I am not silly! I am Kashif, the first flying tortoise in the whole world!"

The words bubbled up inside him. They pushed and pushed. He could not hold them in.

Kashif opened his mouth.

"I am not..."

Whoosh!

The stick slipped right out of his mouth. And down fell Kashif. Down, down, down.

"Kashif!" cried the ducks.

Luckily, just below them was a farmer's field. And in the middle of the field was a great big pile of soft, golden hay.

Flump!

Kashif landed right in the middle of it. Hay flew up everywhere. It settled on his shell like a fluffy hat.

He lay there, blinking. He wiggled his legs. He wiggled his head. He was not hurt one bit.

Nour and Nadi swooped down and landed beside him, flapping and worried.

"Kashif! Are you all right?"

Kashif sat up slowly. Hay was sticking out of his ears.

"I am all right," he said. Then he looked down at the ground. "I am sorry. I promised not to say a word. But I opened my mouth anyway."

The ducks hugged him with their soft white wings.

The children from the village came running. They saw the tortoise sitting in the hay, safe and sound.

"Oh, we are sorry!" said the girl. "We did not mean to make you fall."

"It was not your fault," said Kashif. "It was mine. I did not keep my promise."

Nadi picked up the stick again. "The big blue lake is still far away," she said. "Do you want to try one more time?"

Kashif took a deep breath. He looked at the stick. He looked at his friends.

"Yes," he said. "And this time, I will keep my mouth closed. All the way."

So Nour took one end. Nadi took the other. And Kashif bit down on the middle. Chomp.

Up they flew again. Up, up, up.

The children waved and cheered. Kashif wanted to wave back. But he kept his mouth shut tight. He just wiggled his little feet.

They flew over the hills. They flew over the valley. And at last, they saw it. A big blue lake, sparkling in the sun.

The ducks landed softly at the edge. Kashif let go of the stick.

And then he talked. He talked and talked and talked, all evening long.

And the ducks did not mind one bit.