The Tortoise and the Flooded Road

Dheeru the tortoise was the slowest animal in the mango grove. The rabbits zipped past him. The squirrels ran circles around him. "Hurry up, Dheeru!" everyone called, all day long.

Dheeru did not mind much. But sometimes he wished he were good at something, the way the rabbits were good at running.

One July night it rained without stopping. By morning the path between the grove and the high ground had become a brown, rushing stream. On the low side stood the ant colony, with all their eggs, and the water was rising.

The rabbits could not help. They hated water. The squirrels tried to carry ants, but the ants kept falling off their fur. The bulbul could carry only one egg at a time.

"We need a boat," said the queen ant.

Dheeru cleared his throat. "I am not fast," he said. "But I am steady, and I do not sink."

The ants looked at his wide, domed shell. Then they climbed on, row after row, carrying their eggs. Dheeru stepped into the stream. The water pushed at him. A rabbit would have been swept away. Dheeru simply put down one heavy foot, and then the next.

Step. Step. Step. He did not hurry. Hurrying would have tipped the ants off.

He made eleven trips that morning. Not one egg was lost.

That evening the whole grove gathered on the high ground. Nobody said "Hurry up, Dheeru". The queen ant gave a speech, and the rabbits cheered the loudest.

Dheeru walked home slowly, the way he always did. It felt like the right speed.