The Elephant Who Was Afraid of Puddles

Gajju was the biggest calf in the herd. He could push over a small tree. He could carry three monkeys on his back. But Gajju had a secret: he was afraid of puddles.

It had started when he was very small. He had looked into a puddle and seen a huge grey face looking back. He did not know it was his own. He had run all the way to his mother.

Now the monsoon had come, and the forest path was full of puddles. The other calves splashed through them. Gajju walked around every single one, even if it meant squeezing through thorn bushes.

One evening the herd was walking to the river. A baby mongoose had slipped into a puddle that was deep for someone so small. It paddled and squeaked. The herd had already gone ahead. Only Gajju heard.

He stood at the edge. The grey face was there in the water, looking up at him. His legs shook like banana leaves.

"I am scared," Gajju said aloud. The face in the water moved its mouth too. It looked just as scared as he was.

Gajju took a breath. He put one foot in the puddle. The water was cool, and it tickled. The face broke into a hundred ripples and was gone.

He curled his trunk around the baby mongoose and lifted it onto dry leaves. It shook itself, sneezed and ran home.

Gajju looked down. He was standing in the middle of a puddle, and nothing bad had happened.

He lifted his foot and brought it down. SPLASH.

He was late for the river that evening. He had forty more puddles to jump in.