The Crab That Played With the Sea

Before the High and Far-Off Times, my dear, came the Time of the Very Beginnings; and that was in the days when the Eldest Magician was getting Things ready. First he got the Earth ready; then he got the Sea ready; and then he told all the Animals that they could come out and play. And the Animals said, 'O Eldest Magician, what shall we play at?' and he said, 'I will show you.'

He took the Elephant — all-the-Elephant-there-was — and said, 'Play at being an Elephant,' and all-the-Elephant-there-was played.

He took the Beaver — all-the-Beaver-there-was — and said, 'Play at being a Beaver,' and all-the-Beaver-there-was played.

He took the Cow — all-the-Cow-there-was — and said, 'Play at being a Cow,' and all-the-Cow-there-was played.

He took the Turtle — all-the-Turtle-there-was — and said, 'Play at being a Turtle,' and all-the-Turtle-there-was played.

One by one he took all the beasts and birds and fishes and told them what to play at.

But towards evening, when people and things grow restless and tired, the Man came up, with his own little girl-daughter sitting upon his shoulder, and the Man said, 'What is this play, Eldest Magician?' And the Eldest Magician said, 'Son of Adam, this is the play of the Very Beginning; but you are too wise for this play.' And the Man said, 'Yes, I am too wise for this play; but see that you make all the Animals obedient to me.'

Now, while the two were talking together, Pau Amma the Crab, who was next in the game, scuttled sideways off and stepped into the sea, saying to himself, 'I will play my play alone in the deep waters, and I will never be obedient to this son of Adam.' Nobody saw him go, except the little girl-daughter where she leaned on the Man's shoulder. And she said nothing.

The play went on until there were no more Animals left without their orders. Then the Eldest Magician wiped the fine dust off his hands and walked about the world to see how the Animals were playing.

By and by, the Eldest Magician met the Man on the banks of a great river, and said, 'Son of Adam, are all the Animals obedient to you?'

'Yes,' said the Man.

'Is all the Earth obedient to you?'

'Yes,' said the Man.

'Is all the Sea obedient to you?'

'No,' said the Man. 'Once a day and once a night the Sea runs up my river and drives the water back into the forest, so that my house is made wet; once a day and once a night it runs down the river and draws all the water after it, so that there is nothing left but mud, and my canoe is upset.'

'That is a new and a bad play,' said the Eldest Magician. 'Launch your canoe and we will find out who is playing with the Sea.'

They stepped into the canoe; the little girl-daughter came with them. And the Sea itself pulled the canoe out and out, till at last they came to the very heart of the Sea, where the great hollow leads down to the heart of the world, and where the wonderful Tree grows that bears the magic twin-nuts.

The Eldest Magician slid his arm deep into the warm water, and under the roots of the Wonderful Tree he touched the broad back of Pau Amma the Crab. And Pau Amma settled down at the touch, and all the Sea rose up as water rises in a basin when you put your hand into it.

'Ah,' said the Eldest Magician. 'Now I know who has been playing with the Sea.' And he called out, 'What are you doing, Pau Amma?'

'Once a day and once a night I go out to look for my food,' answered Pau Amma. 'Once a day and once a night I return. Leave me alone.'

'Listen, Pau Amma,' said the Magician. 'When you go out, the Sea drains and the little fish die and the Man's house is left in the mud. When you come home, the Sea floods and the Man's house is drowned. This cannot go on.'

Pau Amma laughed a great, gurgly, bubbly laugh from the bottom of the Sea. 'I did not know I was so important. Then I shall go out seven times a day!'

'Come up,' said the Magician, 'and we shall talk about it.'

Pau Amma came up. And he was very big indeed. He was the King Crab of all crabs — one side of his shell touched one shore and the other side touched another. He was taller than the smoke of three volcanoes.

'Now,' said the Magician, 'make a magic, Pau Amma. Show that you are truly important.'

Pau Amma rolled his eyes and waved all his legs. He stirred up the Sea a bit. But he was, in the end, only a Crab; and he could do no real magic. The Magician laughed.

'You are not so very important, are you?' he said. And with just the little finger of his left hand he made a magic. And Pau Amma's hard blue-green-black shell fell off him like a husk from a coconut. He was left soft — as soft as the little crabs you sometimes find on the beach.

Pau Amma was very much ashamed. 'Give me back my shell,' he begged.

'I will,' said the Magician, 'but only if you promise to keep the peace. And you shall be small enough to hide under any pebble. And once a year, on the twelfth month, your shell shall grow soft again — to remind you and all your children that even a King Crab can be humbled.'

'I agree,' said Pau Amma, most meekly.

And so the Magician turned Pau Amma small — small enough to fit in a girl's palm — and gave him back his shell. And to the Moon he said, 'You shall pull the Sea up and down twice a day, so that the Man may not be lazy.' And the Moon agreed.

And ever since that day, my dear, the tide has been reliable, coming in and going out with the Moon. And every crab hides under a stone. And once a year, every crab sheds his hard shell and grows a new one — because that is the deal Pau Amma made, all those long ago.

(Freely retold for bedtime from Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories, 1902.)