Kancil the Mouse Deer - Indonesian

The jungle floor is my home, full of the scent of damp earth and sweet flowers after a morning rain. My name is Kancil, and though my legs are as thin as twigs, my mind is as sharp as a tiger's tooth. I've always known that being small means you have to be extra clever, and that’s the heart of the story they tell about me, the tale of Kancil and the Crocodiles. In the lush, green rainforests of Indonesia, I lived a happy life, but one day my stomach rumbled with a mighty hunger. Across a wide, swirling river, I spotted the most wonderful sight: rambutan trees, with fruits hanging like bright red jewels. The problem was the river itself. It was the home of a grumpy and very large family of crocodiles who loved nothing more than a tasty snack, and a little mouse deer would be the perfect treat. I knew I couldn't fight them, and I certainly couldn't outswim them. I sat by the riverbank, watching the water churn and thinking hard, because a clever idea was the only thing that could get me to the other side.

My plan began to form, a little spark of mischief and daring. I decided to use the crocodiles' own pride and greed against them. I stood at the edge of the water, puffed out my chest, and called out in the most important-sounding voice I could manage, 'Greetings, creatures of the river! I bring a message from the King of the Forest!' The water bubbled, and the huge, scaly head of the crocodile leader, Buaya, rose to the surface. 'What do you want, little Kancil?' he grumbled. I announced that the King was planning a magnificent feast for all the animals and had sent me to count every single crocodile in the river to make sure no one was left out. Buaya was suspicious, but the thought of a grand royal feast made his eyes gleam. 'How will you count us all?' he asked. 'We are always swimming about.' This was my chance. I told him that to get a proper, official count, they must all line up in a perfect row, from my side of the river all the way to the other. They would form a bridge, and I would hop on each of their backs to count them. The crocodiles grumbled, but their rumbling bellies won out. One by one, they lined up, snout to tail, forming a long, bumpy, and very dangerous-looking bridge across the fast-moving water.

With my heart thumping like a drum, I took a little leap and landed on the back of the first crocodile. 'One!' I shouted clearly. I hopped to the next. 'Two!' Then 'Three!' and 'Four!' I continued my journey across the living bridge, counting each crocodile as I went. Can you imagine how nerve-wracking it must have been to jump on all those scaly, bumpy backs? They lay still in the water, dreaming of the delicious food they would soon eat at the King's feast. As I jumped from the last crocodile onto the soft grass of the far riverbank, I took a deep breath of relief. I had made it! I turned back to the long line of crocodiles and gave them a cheeky smile. 'Thank you for helping me cross the river, my foolish friends!' I called out. 'There is no feast from the King, but I am about to have my own feast with these wonderful rambutans!' A great roar of anger rose from the river as the crocodiles realized they had been tricked, but it was too late. I was already darting into the safety of the trees. For hundreds of years, this story has been told by families in Indonesia and Malaysia to teach a simple, powerful lesson: you don't have to be the biggest or the strongest to win. A quick and clever mind is the most powerful tool of all. Today, the tale of Kancil the mouse deer lives on in books, cartoons, and beautiful shadow puppet plays, reminding everyone that even the smallest among us can outsmart the greatest of challenges.