Winter dawn, and mist lay over the marsh. And down by the water — talk, talk, talk! Tortoise never stopped. The fish dived away. Only two ducks, guests from far away, listened. "And then? Then what happened?"
But winter ends. "Come with us, friend — to our lake in the hills! The water's clear as glass." Tortoise's heart gave a thump. "But I can't fly…" The two ducks looked at each other. And both began to grin. They had an idea.
The ducks brought a stout stick. "We'll hold the two ends in our bills. You bite hard onto the middle. But up in the sky — not one word!" "Staying quiet? Easiest thing in the world!" And he bit down — clack.
Whoosh went the wings, and up they went! Below him, mustard fields like a yellow quilt, the river a silver ribbon, whole villages shrunk to toys. Words fizzed up inside Tortoise like bubbles. Not one word. Not one word.
They flew low over a village. From below the children shouted, "Look! LOOK! Silly old tortoise!" Silly? SILLY? Tortoise's ears burned, his chest went tight — "I am NOT sil—" The stick was gone. He was falling.
THUMP — into the soft mud. Alive! But — crack. Thin broken lines ran across his smooth shell, like a clay pot dropped on the floor. The ducks circled down. "Friend! Are you hurt?" Tortoise opened his mouth… and then gently closed it again.
Tortoise stayed by that little pond, and when winter came round again, his two ducks came back to him. Moonlight glinted on the cracked lines of his shell. "Let them stay," he said. "They remind me."