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Long ago, by the shore of a charming little pond, there lived a pair of ducks named Quakke and Kwaque. Here they tended to a nest full of eggs that would soon hatch. Quakke and Kwaque had each come up with different ways to keep their anxious minds occupied while they waited; Kwaque had built a fence around the nest to keep out hooligans and miscreants (it was nearly four inches tall and he was very proud of it), and Quakke was composing an individual welcome haiku for each hatchling. She was getting quite good at them.
One morning, Quakke awakened and realized immediately that something was amiss. She shifted around nervously and felt certain that something was different about the eggs. Her investigation was interrupted by Kwaque.
“My fence!” Kwaque cried, and Quakke turned to see that a huge section of the fence had been trampled. Now truly alarmed rather than merely unsettled, Quakke stood up to inspect the eggs and see if any were damaged or missing, but to her confusion it appeared instead that there was now an extra egg – one which did not match the others. Realization dawned.
“It was those awful pigs!” she cried, and she pointed at the new egg. It took Kwaque a moment to connect these seemingly unrelated items, but then he realized what she meant, and he swore at some length.
All of the local birds knew about the cruel trick the three pigs had played, stealing a swan’s egg and placing it among the eggs in a duck’s nest. Of course, no one had realized that's what had happened at the time, and the poor little cygnet who hatched had been cruelly mocked for being an “ugly duckling.” Even though he eventually learned of his origins as a swan and came to embrace this change to his understanding of himself, he still bore a great deal of emotional trauma from the experience.
“I’m going to go make them return that egg to its proper parents!” Kwaque proclaimed.
“No, don’t!” Quakke objected, “It’s too dangerous. It’s not so much trouble to brood one extra egg, and I hate to take any risks moving it again. We can return it to its parents after it hatches,” she said.
“Well, I can at least find out who they are so we can tell them that their egg is safe!” Kwaque said. Quakke still thought it was too dangerous to confront the pigs, but couldn’t deny the righteousness of Kwaque's cause.
“Be careful,” she said.
Kwaque stormed off to interrogate the pigs. He found the three of them lounging under a tree snoozing the afternoon away, doubtless tired from a night of sneaking and kidnapping. He quacked loudly in their ears to wake them up and then demanded they tell him whose egg they had placed in his nest.
At first, the pigs claimed that they were innocent, and had no idea what he was talking about, though the knowing grins they exchanged the whole time made this lie transparently obvious. Eventually, they admitted to the kidnapping, but still refused to yield the identity of their victim, telling him that he'd just have to wait and see. When Kwaque pressed them further, they became angry and chased him off their property.
Kwaque returned home disheveled and frustrated, but largely unharmed. Quakke urged him to just let things be for now, and he agreed.
A few days later, all of the original eggs from the nest hatched, and the two ducks greeted their ducklings with enthusiasm and affection. The interloper egg remained intact.
"Now, children, we have a guest that still requires my attention," said Quakke. "Your father will teach you to swim this afternoon, and I will stay here tending to our visitor."
The ducklings peeped inquisitively, and Quakke shushed them so she could continue.
"When this egg finally hatches, the little bird that comes out might not look like you, but I want you to be gracious hosts. You are not to treat them poorly just because they are different. Understand?"
The ducklings peeped their understanding.
"Good. Now, go with your father and I'll see you later." And with that, they ducklings all followed their father to the water.
A whole additional day passed in similar fashion, and Quakke began to regret her decision, for it was costing her so much time with her children. Still, she perservered, and the next morning the extra egg began to shake and wobble. Everyone gathered around to greet whoever emerged from the shell. Finally, with a great crack, the egg split open.
It was a crocodile.
All thoughts of hospitality and good intentions vanished under a wave of terror, and there was a great deal of quacking and running around, and in the esuing chaos the little crocodile slipped away into the pond and disappeared. Once order had been restored, and Quakke had a moment to think again, she found herself filled with a terrible fury.
"Kwaque," Quakke said with dangerous calm, "watch the children. I have an errand to run."
"You're not going to confront the pigs, are you?!" Kwaque asked worriedly. His nerves were still shattered, and he hoped desperately that he was wrong, and she was not about to put herself into harm's way.
"Eventually. First I'm going to go see Rothbart."
"That creepy magical owl?! What for?" Kwaque asked, deeply alarmed.
"Everyone knows that Odette used to be human before Rothbart turned her into a swan. If he can do that, then I'm sure he can arrange for me to spend the afternoon as something that can show those pigs that they messed with the wrong family."
Kwaque felt he should try to convince her not to go, but could also see that this would be impossible. So he simply wished her good luck.
And so Quakke went to see the mysterious owl Rothbart. He told her to go away. Then Quakke explained that she wanted to exact terrible revenge upon the pigs for their crimes, and he decided that sounded amusing after all.
* * *
The pig named Hans lived in a house made of straw. It wasn’t a particularly nice house, but then we wasn’t a very nice pig. He was sitting quietly inside, reorganizing his collection of souvenir ornamental spoons, when he heard a terrible, rumbling growl just outside. Then the growl resolved into a voice.
Come out, little pig
Justice is like winter’s chill
inevitable
“Go away!” Hans shouted. Then he heard a snarl, and then a huge, terrifying wolf smashed through the wall. The wolf lunged at him with gaping jaws, and Hans screamed and ran from the wreckage straight to his brother Christian’s house. He didn’t even pause to knock, he just burst through the door and then locked it behind him.
“What are you doing?! What was that noise?!” Christian demanded.
“There’s a giant wolf after me!” Hans blubbered, tears streaming down his face.
“Why? Did you prank a wolf?” Christian asked.
“Of course not!” Hans said.
“Then why is it after you? Surely there are easier things to eat out there in the forest.”
“I don’t know, it didn’t give a lot of details in the haiku!” Hans babbled.
“I’m sorry, what?” Christian said, certain he must have misheard. But then a voice growled through the wooden walls of the house.
Fear not, little pigs
I am not without mercy
Your deaths will be swift
“Real haiku reference the seasons!” Christian objected.
Autumn’s harvest calls
but I reap only vengeance
sown by your evil
“That’s better,” said the pig, and then he and his brother both screamed as the wolf began to tear her way through the wall. She was nearly through when they fled out the back door to the house of their brother, Anderson.
Hans and Christian found Anderson’s house locked up tight, and they hammered on the door in terror.
“Anderson, let us in! It’s going to kill us!” they cried.
Anderson opened the door a crack and was about to ask what all the fuss was about, but his brothers forced the door the rest of the way and tumbled inside. Christian bolted the door again behind them, and Hans was already dragging a chair over to barricade it further.
“What have you idiots done now?” Anderson demanded.
“The wolf!” Hans and Christian both wailed, uninformatively. Before Anderson could ask for more information, a voice outside snarled another haiku.
The Summer sun fades
Darkness in both sky and heart
Your doom is at hand
But though the wolf hurled herself repeatedly at the door and even the brick walls themselves, she found the house too sturdy for her to destroy.
“Nice try!” Anderson mocked. “It’ll take more than some crazy wolf to knock down this house!”
The wolf decided that he was right, and she loped away into the forest.
Rothbart was annoyed to be interrupted twice in one day, but he was sufficiently amused by the wolf’s description of the pigs fleeing in terror for their lives that he agreed to help out one more time.
“Bricks, you say? Well, we’re going to need to think a bit bigger,” Rothbart mused.
* * *
Back at Anderson's house, Hans and Christian were still huddled on the floor weeping in terror. Anderson thought they were being ridiculous. They were perfectly safe from the wolf inside his house of bricks. Then he heard something approaching. Something bigger than the wolf.
"Who else did you two idiots piss off?" Anderson asked.
"No one! We didn't even do anything to the wolf!" Hans objected.
"Then why are your houses in ruins and you're here making a mess of mine?" Anderson demanded.
A voice spoke from just outside, from something looming much taller than the wolf had.
Children are not toys
This storm is of your making
Hear its thunder quack
"Wait, did you say 'quack?' Is this about those stupid ducks?" Anderson scoffed in disbelief.
* * *
Some time later, Quakke returned to her family, once again in the form of a duck. Kwaque and their children crowded around her in relief.
“How did it go?” Kwaque asked her. He had been able to hear a certain amount of distant screaming and crashing, but it had been hard to tell exactly what was going on.
A lone wolf thwarted
In what guise does justice tread?
The rhinoceros
One morning, Quakke awakened and realized immediately that something was amiss. She shifted around nervously and felt certain that something was different about the eggs. Her investigation was interrupted by Kwaque.
“My fence!” Kwaque cried, and Quakke turned to see that a huge section of the fence had been trampled. Now truly alarmed rather than merely unsettled, Quakke stood up to inspect the eggs and see if any were damaged or missing, but to her confusion it appeared instead that there was now an extra egg – one which did not match the others. Realization dawned.
“It was those awful pigs!” she cried, and she pointed at the new egg. It took Kwaque a moment to connect these seemingly unrelated items, but then he realized what she meant, and he swore at some length.
All of the local birds knew about the cruel trick the three pigs had played, stealing a swan’s egg and placing it among the eggs in a duck’s nest. Of course, no one had realized that's what had happened at the time, and the poor little cygnet who hatched had been cruelly mocked for being an “ugly duckling.” Even though he eventually learned of his origins as a swan and came to embrace this change to his understanding of himself, he still bore a great deal of emotional trauma from the experience.
“I’m going to go make them return that egg to its proper parents!” Kwaque proclaimed.
“No, don’t!” Quakke objected, “It’s too dangerous. It’s not so much trouble to brood one extra egg, and I hate to take any risks moving it again. We can return it to its parents after it hatches,” she said.
“Well, I can at least find out who they are so we can tell them that their egg is safe!” Kwaque said. Quakke still thought it was too dangerous to confront the pigs, but couldn’t deny the righteousness of Kwaque's cause.
“Be careful,” she said.
Kwaque stormed off to interrogate the pigs. He found the three of them lounging under a tree snoozing the afternoon away, doubtless tired from a night of sneaking and kidnapping. He quacked loudly in their ears to wake them up and then demanded they tell him whose egg they had placed in his nest.
At first, the pigs claimed that they were innocent, and had no idea what he was talking about, though the knowing grins they exchanged the whole time made this lie transparently obvious. Eventually, they admitted to the kidnapping, but still refused to yield the identity of their victim, telling him that he'd just have to wait and see. When Kwaque pressed them further, they became angry and chased him off their property.
Kwaque returned home disheveled and frustrated, but largely unharmed. Quakke urged him to just let things be for now, and he agreed.
A few days later, all of the original eggs from the nest hatched, and the two ducks greeted their ducklings with enthusiasm and affection. The interloper egg remained intact.
"Now, children, we have a guest that still requires my attention," said Quakke. "Your father will teach you to swim this afternoon, and I will stay here tending to our visitor."
The ducklings peeped inquisitively, and Quakke shushed them so she could continue.
"When this egg finally hatches, the little bird that comes out might not look like you, but I want you to be gracious hosts. You are not to treat them poorly just because they are different. Understand?"
The ducklings peeped their understanding.
"Good. Now, go with your father and I'll see you later." And with that, they ducklings all followed their father to the water.
A whole additional day passed in similar fashion, and Quakke began to regret her decision, for it was costing her so much time with her children. Still, she perservered, and the next morning the extra egg began to shake and wobble. Everyone gathered around to greet whoever emerged from the shell. Finally, with a great crack, the egg split open.
It was a crocodile.
All thoughts of hospitality and good intentions vanished under a wave of terror, and there was a great deal of quacking and running around, and in the esuing chaos the little crocodile slipped away into the pond and disappeared. Once order had been restored, and Quakke had a moment to think again, she found herself filled with a terrible fury.
"Kwaque," Quakke said with dangerous calm, "watch the children. I have an errand to run."
"You're not going to confront the pigs, are you?!" Kwaque asked worriedly. His nerves were still shattered, and he hoped desperately that he was wrong, and she was not about to put herself into harm's way.
"Eventually. First I'm going to go see Rothbart."
"That creepy magical owl?! What for?" Kwaque asked, deeply alarmed.
"Everyone knows that Odette used to be human before Rothbart turned her into a swan. If he can do that, then I'm sure he can arrange for me to spend the afternoon as something that can show those pigs that they messed with the wrong family."
Kwaque felt he should try to convince her not to go, but could also see that this would be impossible. So he simply wished her good luck.
And so Quakke went to see the mysterious owl Rothbart. He told her to go away. Then Quakke explained that she wanted to exact terrible revenge upon the pigs for their crimes, and he decided that sounded amusing after all.
The pig named Hans lived in a house made of straw. It wasn’t a particularly nice house, but then we wasn’t a very nice pig. He was sitting quietly inside, reorganizing his collection of souvenir ornamental spoons, when he heard a terrible, rumbling growl just outside. Then the growl resolved into a voice.
Come out, little pig
Justice is like winter’s chill
inevitable
“Go away!” Hans shouted. Then he heard a snarl, and then a huge, terrifying wolf smashed through the wall. The wolf lunged at him with gaping jaws, and Hans screamed and ran from the wreckage straight to his brother Christian’s house. He didn’t even pause to knock, he just burst through the door and then locked it behind him.
“What are you doing?! What was that noise?!” Christian demanded.
“There’s a giant wolf after me!” Hans blubbered, tears streaming down his face.
“Why? Did you prank a wolf?” Christian asked.
“Of course not!” Hans said.
“Then why is it after you? Surely there are easier things to eat out there in the forest.”
“I don’t know, it didn’t give a lot of details in the haiku!” Hans babbled.
“I’m sorry, what?” Christian said, certain he must have misheard. But then a voice growled through the wooden walls of the house.
Fear not, little pigs
I am not without mercy
Your deaths will be swift
“Real haiku reference the seasons!” Christian objected.
Autumn’s harvest calls
but I reap only vengeance
sown by your evil
“That’s better,” said the pig, and then he and his brother both screamed as the wolf began to tear her way through the wall. She was nearly through when they fled out the back door to the house of their brother, Anderson.
Hans and Christian found Anderson’s house locked up tight, and they hammered on the door in terror.
“Anderson, let us in! It’s going to kill us!” they cried.
Anderson opened the door a crack and was about to ask what all the fuss was about, but his brothers forced the door the rest of the way and tumbled inside. Christian bolted the door again behind them, and Hans was already dragging a chair over to barricade it further.
“What have you idiots done now?” Anderson demanded.
“The wolf!” Hans and Christian both wailed, uninformatively. Before Anderson could ask for more information, a voice outside snarled another haiku.
The Summer sun fades
Darkness in both sky and heart
Your doom is at hand
But though the wolf hurled herself repeatedly at the door and even the brick walls themselves, she found the house too sturdy for her to destroy.
“Nice try!” Anderson mocked. “It’ll take more than some crazy wolf to knock down this house!”
The wolf decided that he was right, and she loped away into the forest.
Rothbart was annoyed to be interrupted twice in one day, but he was sufficiently amused by the wolf’s description of the pigs fleeing in terror for their lives that he agreed to help out one more time.
“Bricks, you say? Well, we’re going to need to think a bit bigger,” Rothbart mused.
Back at Anderson's house, Hans and Christian were still huddled on the floor weeping in terror. Anderson thought they were being ridiculous. They were perfectly safe from the wolf inside his house of bricks. Then he heard something approaching. Something bigger than the wolf.
"Who else did you two idiots piss off?" Anderson asked.
"No one! We didn't even do anything to the wolf!" Hans objected.
"Then why are your houses in ruins and you're here making a mess of mine?" Anderson demanded.
A voice spoke from just outside, from something looming much taller than the wolf had.
Children are not toys
This storm is of your making
Hear its thunder quack
"Wait, did you say 'quack?' Is this about those stupid ducks?" Anderson scoffed in disbelief.
Some time later, Quakke returned to her family, once again in the form of a duck. Kwaque and their children crowded around her in relief.
“How did it go?” Kwaque asked her. He had been able to hear a certain amount of distant screaming and crashing, but it had been hard to tell exactly what was going on.
A lone wolf thwarted
In what guise does justice tread?
The rhinoceros
