Chicken Mama & Other Stories , livre ebook

Margaret Bhatty
Chicken Mama and Other Stories
Illustrated by Priyankar Gupta
PUFFIN BOOKS
Contents
Chicken Mama
Spooky and the Professor
Sammy
Degree Master
Tashi and the Snake-stone
The Genie of the Yantra
Go Home, Little Wild Dog
Minnie the Evening Mist Girl
Freedom
The How-D you-Do Birds
You Can t Fool Chachaji
Sarkoo and the Gentleman Thief
PUFFIN BOOKS
CHICKEN MAMA AND OTHER STORIES
Margaret Bhatty was born in Berinag, then in the wilds of Kumaon. Her fascination with wildlife, and adventure and travel books began in her childhood. At home, she read at night by the light of burning pine cones in the fireplace. Though she did a degree in Journalism from Thoburn College, Lucknow, Margaret went on to teach at school and college. A prolific writer and freelance journalist, her published books for children include The Mystery of Zamorin s Treasure (Ratna Sagar), The Adventures of Bhim the Bold (Orient Longman) and Little Old Woman (National Book Trust) among others. She has also written several short stories for adults. Margaret lives in Nagpur.
For Indira
Chicken Mama
CHICKEN MAMA HATCHED eggs, which was why the pygmy people called her Mother of Chickens . It was an art she had learnt from her grandmother. She knew the right Time-Rhyme to hatch any kind of egg.
Time-Rhymes can be said both ways. There s strong magic in a verse that can reverse. It can make Time move backwards. Chicken Mama saw Time as a river flowing over the Waterwheel of the World. She could make the Waterwheel spin backwards or forwards. She could make it stop altogether. Time-Rhymes helped Chicken Mama in treating the pygmy people when they got ill. A verse said in reverse made them go back to feeling well again.
Chicken Mama lived in a hut close to the Ndoki rainforest in the Congo. You can see the place in your atlas. Here the Ndoki spreads into a great swamp which no humans have ever explored.
Chicken Mama was fat, round and ageless. She did her hair up in spikes, plastered with river mud to keep it out of her eyes. Her frocks were lined with coloured feathers she picked up in the jungle. She took her chickens to market and exchanged them for groceries. These she brought home in paper bags made from old newspapers, government files, magazines and worn-out textbooks. Her grandmother had taught her to read from these grocery bags. So Chicken Mama knew something about everything, even though some of it was in incomplete sentences where the paper bags were glued down.
It was from her reading that Chicken Mama discovered Seldom Seen and Zonkey were threatened species and listed in the Red Data Book. Seldom Seen was a very rare species of ape, and Zonkey was a cross between a zebra and a donkey. He had the outline of an ass and the stripes of a zebra. Both were hiding out in Chicken Mama s backyard after escaping from the zoo.
Chicken Mama was in bed with a batch of eggs when she came across the news item. She called both Seldom Seen and Zonkey into the cabin. Did you know you are endangered species? she demanded.
Endangered species?! they repeated, confounded.
Yes! Endangered species means you re both about to disappear! And when that happens there won t be any more of your kind for children to read about. You ll become extinct, that s what! It says here, on this grocery bag, that there are lots of Debra in the world-one part donkey and four parts zebra. But you re the only one of your kind, Zonkey-one part zebra and five parts donkey! This is bad news! It means they could be coming out here some day to look for you. So be careful!

It was from a grocery bag in which she brought home sugar that Chicken Mama learnt about an expedition heading for the Ndoki swamp. This news so upset her that she almost spoilt the eggs she was hatching.
Seldom Seen! Zonkey! Oh hey! Oh hey! she called.
Zonkey put his head in at the window and Seldom Seen came down from the bikibaku tree where she always hid in the thick foliage.
Do you know what it says here? cried Chicken Mama, waving the paper bag at them. It says that two explorers are coming out to the Ndoki swamp to capture the Mokel-embe-embe!
Capture it ?! they both exclaimed in disbelief.
In a cage, it says.
No cage has yet been built to fit around a Mokel-embe-embe, said Zonkey.
He was right. The Mokel-embe-embe is the world s last dinosaur. It has an immense lumpy body with a neck ten metres long, ending in a small lizard-like head. From the top of its head to the tip of its tapering tail it measures about forty metres. It lives in a deeper part of the swamp, dozing on the bottom, and simply stretching its neck out of the water to breathe or to nibble the water lilies when it gets hungry.
It says here that the explorers have heard the pygmy people believe in the Mokel-embe-embe, said Chicken Mama, reading from the grocery bag. They ve also heard that when pygmy boys become men they must go to the swamp all alone with a bow and arrows to shoot and kill the Mokel-embe-embe. When they return they say We are now miso -Great Warriors and Hunters! We have killed the Mokel-embe-embe! Then everybody shouts Hurray! and they have a great feast. The explorers think there must be something in all this. So they re going to the swamp to capture the Mokel-embe-embe.
But what can we do, Chicken Mama?
We can warn it, that s what! she cried. She now reeled off a Time-Rhyme to speed hatching of the eggs she was incubating and the chicks began pecking their way out of their shells. Then she jumped out of bed and the three started for the Ndoki swamp.
Arriving on the banks of the river they yelled: Mokel-emb-embe! Mokel-embe-embe! Ya-hoo! Yahoo! Where are you?
The foolish creature was dozing underwater, but it woke up and raised its head. Water plants and weeds dangled from its ears.
There s an expedition coming out to capture you! cried Chicken Mama.
What a bore! grumped the Mokel-embe-embe. What with those pygmy boys coming out here and pretending to shoot me dead! Why can t people leave me alone?
Well, this isn t that kind of pygmy make-believe, I can tell you, Chicken Mama said severely. These are British explorers and they mean business. They ve travelled thousands of kilometres inland, hundreds of kilometres by canoe, and they re hiking the last lap to this swamp. They won t be shooting pygmy arrows either. They ll shoot dope-darts that will put you to sleep so that they can tie you up and carry you away.

Carry me ? drawled the Mokel-embe-embe. Are you joking, Chicken Mama? I m a dinosaur, you know.
That makes you worse off than Zonkey here and even Seldom Seen. At least they re mentioned in the Red Book of endangered species and plants. You aren t mentioned at all. You re extinct.
Me? Extinct?
Yes! That means you don t exist any more-
Oh but I do! rumbled the dinosaur, surging to the surface of the water. It then sank to the bottom like a stone. See? I sink-therefore I am! Aha!
We know that too, said Chicken Mama. But scientists believe the last of your kind disappeared millions of years ago. None of them can say where they went. Some say they all became birds and took to the trees. You can believe that if you want. So you see, the fellows who rediscover you as an original dinosaur will become very famous indeed.
Exactly how old am I, Chicken Mama? asked the Mokel-embe-embe.
A hundred and fifty-five million years, eight months, three weeks, nine days, Chicken Mama said promptly. Then looking up at the sun she added- And eleven hours, twelve minutes and five seconds!
That s a really great age! exclaimed the dinosaur proudly.
You should worry instead of swelling your chest! We ve got to save you for the pygmy people and the children of the world.
But how?
Sometimes when a chicken doesn t turn out right, I use a reverse-verse to take it backwards to its egg stage and start again, said Chicken Mama. I could do that for you, too. But since a hundred and fifty-five million years, eight months, three weeks, nine days, eleven hours, twelve minutes and five seconds is a long, long time, it will take weeks to reverse you. So settle yourselves comfortably and don t disturb me by chatting.
The Mokel-embe-embe climbed onto the bank and sat down beside Chicken Mama, Zonkey and Seldom Seen. She now began to make the Waterwheel of the World spin backwards. It took four weeks during which time the Mokel-embe-embe became younger and younger and younger, then smaller and smaller and smaller. Finally, it turned into a large, round, thin-shelled dinosaur egg. But it was too big to fit down the front of Chicken Mama s frock. So she reversed it a bit more until it did.
Holding it in place very carefully, Chicken Mama started for home, followed by Zonkey and Seldom Seen. They got back to her cabin in the nick of time. Fifteen minutes later, the British expedition trooped past on its way to the Ndoki swamp.
The two explorers, one short, one tall, led a column of two hundred porters. They carried a huge cage for the dinosaur, along with chairs and tables, camp cots, bedding and mosquito nets, tents, dope-dart guns and rifles, pots and pans and tableware, medicine chests, provisions, bathtubs and chamber pots.
The two men had turned a bright red in the African sun. Chicken Mama had never seen anyone of that colour, and she gaped. They gaped back at her where she sat on a fresh clutch of eggs.
What is that? one of them asked.
Chicken Mama, medicine-woman, very powerful! their guide replied, winking at the old woman as they trooped through her yard.

Six weeks of splashing about in the swamp convinced the explorers that the Mokel-embe-embe was only a pygmy myth, after all. They turned back, appearing so suddenly at Chicken Mama s cabin that Zonkey and Seldom Seen didn t have the time to hide. The explorers had heard about them-though not from grocery bags. They were very pleased.
Poor Zonkey and Seldom Seen were put into the cage instead