THE TOAD AS TRAVELLER 87 
them, and in a few seconds all was peace and quiet 
again. 
And when I looked at the road once more, the 
toad was still there, still travelling, painfully 
crawling a few inches, then sitting up and gazing 
with his yellow eyes over the forty yards of that 
weary via dolorosa which still had to be got over 
before he could bathe and make himself young for 
ever in that river of life. Then all at once the 
feared and terrific thing came upon him: a farmer’s 
trap, drawn by a fast trotting horse, suddenly 
appeared at the bend of the road and came flying 
down the slope. That’s the end of you, old toad, 
said I, as the horse and trap came over him; but 
when I had seen them cross the ford and vanish 
from sight at the next bend, my eyes went back, 
and to my amazement there sat my toad, his 
throat still pulsing, his prominent eyes still gazing 
forward. The four dread hoofs and two shining 
wheels had all missed him; then at long last I 
took pity on him, although vexed at having to 
play providence to a toad, and getting off the rail 
I went and picked him up, which made him very 
angry. But when I put him in the water he ex- 
panded and floated for a few moments with legs 
spread out, then slowly sank his body and remained 
with just the top of his head and the open eyes 
above the surface for a little while, and finally 
settled down into the cooler depths below. 
It is strange to think that when water would 
appear to be so much to these water-born and 
