LongBeard and Puffy the Bullfrog

Chapter 1

It was early March, autumn time in Riversdale, South Africa.

The South Western Cape, where Riversdale nestles against the Langeberg Mountains, is a winter rainfall area. Clouds had begun gathering since the beginning of the month, and every night a chorus of frogs could be heard, loudly calling to their mates as the summer breeding season was drawing to a close.

LongBeard had a particularly good friend amongst the frogs, a handsome bachelor bullfrog by the name of Puffy. Puffy was born on the Highveld, a summer rainfall area in the northern parts of South Africa. He was captured when he was still a little tadpole, rescued in fact, by a little boy who saw him in a mud pool which was fast running dry. The little boy had kept him in a water dish and looked after the froglet as a pet. In those days there were many frogs, and it was legal for people to keep them as pets.

Puffy enjoyed staying with the little boy, whose name was Sean. Sean loved him, and took meticulous care of him in every way – he ensured that there was enough food, he built a special little cage for Puffy with soil in it, so that he could burrow into it as bullfrogs do. Puffy was young, and while food and shelter were his only concerns, he never longed for others of his kind.

One day Sean loaded Puffy and the cage into the back of the family car. Puffy thought nothing of it, as he regularly traveled with Sean whenever they went on long holidays. However, this time, there seemed to be a lot of baggage, and they traveled for a very long time - from dawn to sunset. Finally they arrived at their new destination. Puffy was carefully unloaded and placed in the laundry room, until Sean found a safe place outside to keep him.

They were now in Riversdale. Puffy immediately noticed that the air was different – even though it was midsummer, the air was dry and he could not smell any rain. He knew this would be foreign to his natural habitat. Puffing himself up, he let out the odd “whoooop, whoooop,” but there was no reply from other bullfrogs. Puffy had been moved to an area where bullfrogs were not usually found, due to the dry summers and cold wet winters. Sean brought along some fat flies and crickets, and soon Puffy's attention was completely focused on food.

Puffy was a good friend to Sean. He allowed him to pick him up, stroke him, even kiss him! When Sean held him near the window, he caught flies with his long sticky tongue. This always seemed to amuse and delight Sean. He invited his new friends over to see Puffy and they all laughed at the way Puffy caught little insects as fast as the blink of an eye, his sticky tongue shooting out to catch his prey. Puffy lived happily with Sean for another two years in their new home. During this time he would occasionally call out, but he never got a reply. He seemed to be the only bullfrog in the whole of Riversdale.

Then, one day, a tearful Sean fetched him, held him close to his chest and cried miserably. Puffy wondered what on earth could have upset the child so much. He did not have to wait long before Sean confided in him. “My dad says I must let you go,” he sobbed. “There is a new law which prohibits people from keeping bullfrogs. He says the police will give me a big fine and take you away if they find you with me. It is no use trying to keep it a secret because too many people know about you. There is a nice place at the golf club where we think you might be happy. It has a little stream and also a

natural hollow in the grass on the golf course with some water in it most of the year. What do you think?” Puffy wasn’t really sure how to respond, but as Sean appeared to have learnt some simple frog language over the years, Puffy said, “Croak” and “Whoooop, Whoooop.” Sean stared at him. “You mean you are prepared to give it a try?” he asked. “Do you think maybe you will find a mate?” “Croak,” replied Puffy. “Whoooop, whoooop,” he blew excitedly and gave two little hops. Sean started laughing. “Now I feel much better,” he said. “Let us go and have a look at the spot and you can let me know if you would like to stay there.”

Without further ado, Sean told his mother about his plans and loaded Puffy into a special shoebox with holes. He carefully placed the box on his bicycle carrier and rode down to the golf club. Over the wooden railway bridge and down the gravel road they went. Every now and again Puffy called out, “Whoooop, Whoooop!” just in case there was another bullfrog around. In all these years, no-one had ever replied, and today was no exception. He was quite satisfied though, as Sean usually took him to interesting places where there was lots of food.

Sean rode to the spot on the golf course which his dad had told him about. The dog-leg shaped fairway on the 4th hole had a natural hollow on one side, closest to the river. Sean placed Puffy in the shallow hollow and let him splash around in the lukewarm water. Then he took him to the little river and let him swim in the cool, clear mountain water. Sean noticed a large red and white toadstool on the other side of the stream and wondered dreamily if there were elves, fairies and gnomes about. He had heard stories of such creatures and wondered if they were true. Puffy wemt over to the toadstool and hopped around it, twisting his head this way and that, making soft sounds, as if he were communicating with something or someone invisible to Sean. Sean was fascinated.

“What is it old boy?” he called out. “Who is there?” Puffy hopped back to Sean and straight into his hands. “Time to go home, I guess,” Sean said softly, stroking Puffy’s warty back. “You are probably hungry after all this exercise!” He loaded him into his box and on the carrier at the back of the bicycle. At home he made sure to feed Puffy nice fat flies and some crickets which the gardener had caught earlier. The gardener always put the crickets in a special glass bottle for Puffy. He had made some small holes in the metal lid so that the crickets and other insects would not suffocate. He enjoyed helping Sean to find food for Puffy, as all gardeners know that frogs are their friends , because they keep the garden free from malicious insects.

That night Sean told his dad what had happened at the golf club. “You’re a good boy,” he said, stroking Sean’s hair. “I know this is hard for you and I am proud that you are doing the right thing.” Sean and his dad did not know that bullfrogs weren’t normally found in this area and they were under the impression that Puffy would easily find a mate. “You know Puffy well; take him down to that same spot every day until you see he is ready to settle.”

Sean followed his dad’s advice and every afternoon after he had done his homework, he took Puffy down to the golf course. On these occasions Puffy would call out, but there was never any reply from other bullfrogs. Puffy seemed fascinated by the large red and white toadstool, which, unlike other toadstools and mushrooms, never seemed to wilt or even grow bigger, almost as if it were a little house!

Eventually the day arrived when Sean noticed that Puffy was ready to stay. Puffy had used his strong hind legs to burrow a hole near an orange toadstool, some distance from the red and white one. Sean knew that this meant that Puffy was ready to go into estivation, and that he would only come out of the hole after it had rained at least 50mm. He felt satisfied, knowing that Puffy would insulate himself in a natural cocoon, which would protect him from the elements and from harmful prey. Sean knew that Puffy would be comfortable until the rain dissolved this protective covering. The dissolving cocoon would then become food for him and the rain would be his signal to come above ground again.

“Good-bye Puffy,” Sean called. “I love you! Thank you for having been my friend”. Puffy was now four years old and a beautiful mature bullfrog, dull green in colour, with a pronounced yellow throat. “And if there are any gnomes about, which I can’t see, please look after Puffy!” Little did he know that LongBeard was waving at him from the toadstool, but he somehow felt as if all was well. With a song in his heart, knowing that he had done the right thing, he climbed on his bicycle and rode back home.

He went back once a week to check on Puffy, but the earth remained undisturbed as Puffy continued to rest underground. After a couple of months, Sean’s father was transferred again, and the family moved to Cape Town. Sean was no longer able to check on his old friend, but he somehow knew that he would be fine. Chapter 2

Sean was quite right. On their first visit to the golf course, Puffy had spotted LongBeard sitting on his red and white toadstool. Animals find it easy to see gnomes, and to converse with them. He had told LongBeard the whole story and LongBeard advised that he would help him settle in. As Puffy was new to the wild, LongBeard told him about natural enemies, such as birds, snakes, other reptiles and dogs, and how to hide away from them. LongBeard understood the advantage of Puffy staying underground during the cold winter and advised him to burrow really deep into the soil, so that the winter rain would not dissolve his protective cocoon. He also advised that he would show him where the ponds were, which held water during the dry summer months.

Lastly he showed him a spot near the orange toadstool where he could burrow. This spot was close enough to the water, yet above the line of danger when the little stream became a flooding river during the rainy season. Puffy asked if LongBeard had ever seen any other bullfrogs, and LongBeard said he had not, but would enquire from his cousins, the water gnomes who lived under the railway bridge.

LongBeard’s cousins reported that they had not seen any bullfrogs either, but that in turn they would ask their cousins who lived further up in the mountains. Before they could get back to LongBeard with a reply, the first storm of the season was upon them. It poured down with rain, the river swelled up and rushed down from the mountain to the sea. The gnomes went deep underground and LongBeard was thankful that he had told Puffy to burrow down deeply as well.

On and on it rained, one inch, two inches, two and a half inches of rain within one week! The soil was drenched, the rivers flooding and the dams filling up fast. At last the rain stopped and LongBeard and his friends went above ground again. The earth was looking beautiful and clean, the smell of wet soil and leaves strong in the air.

LongBeard immediately went to check on Puffy. Puffy was gnawing at his wet cocoon, and getting ready to come above ground. As it was still early March, the weather was pleasantly warm. Suddenly a river gnome came swimming along the river. These gnomes swim as fast as birds fly and it makes no difference to them whether they swim upstream or downstream. “A bullfrog!” he cried out. “A bullfrog was washed down by the river! We rescued her and she is staying with us under the railway bridge.” LongBeard smiled. “Thank you,” he exclaimed, “I will pass on the news”.

Puffy had come above ground and was in the process of shedding his old skin. LongBeard marveled at how shiny and clean he now looked. Frogs have a habit of shedding their old skins frequently, transforming themselves into beautiful, glossy specimens. That night, as the two friends sat talking about the weather, they suddenly heard an unfamiliar sound coming from the natural water hazard on the 4th hole of the golf course. It sounded as if someone was tapping out a rhythm on a hollow piece of wood. Puffy stopped catching mosquitoes and listened carefully.

Then he puffed himself up and called, “Whoooop, whoooop!” The knocking grew stronger and more insistent. “That is a female bullfrog calling,” whispered Puffy, who had instinctively recognised the sound.

“Let us go and have a look,” said LongBeard, who had been munching on a large strawberry. He hopped onto Puffy’s back and wrapped his long beard around the frog’s neck so that he could hold on to it for safety.

Riding on Puffy’s back was a bit like riding on a bucking bronco, as Puffy took gigantic leaps across the river. In some places Puffy swam strongly and LongBeard had to hold on tightly not to be swept off his back by the current. At last they got to the other side and Puffy continued to follow the rhythmic tapping sound.

Although he had never met another bullfrog, he somehow intuitively knew that this was the calling sound of the female bullfrog. Every now and again he stopped and called, “Whoooop, Whoooop!” The deep, soft sound carried far and was responded to every time by renewed tapping.

As they got closer to the water pool, Puffy stopped hopping and crept forward cautiously. And there the female bullfrog was, sitting on a piece of wood next to the water, dull green like Puffy, but with a cream coloured throat, looking elegant and ladylike as she stared at them with her bulging eyes.

Slowly, LongBeard unravelled his beard from Puffy’s neck and slid down his back. “There you go boy,” he whispered, “there’s your mate.” Puffy needed no more encouragement, and hopped closer to his new friend.

For a moment LongBeard scanned the surroundings, just to make sure that both frogs were safe. Then he drilled straight down and went underground, as gnomes do. Once underground he was able to go through the earth very fast beneath the river, and come up in the tunnel under the red and white toadstool. He climbed on top of the toadstool and lit his herbacco pipe.

"And so," he mused, "the transformational cycle continues."

Picture Acknowledgement: Google Images (bullfrogenvironmental.com, generalexotics.com, wikiwak.com, yourneedtoknow.com, fwie.fw.vt.edu, richard-seaman.com, geog.ubc.ca, depts.washington.edu, share.triangle.com, Steven G Johnson, saskschools.ca, ), Shani Grove