G'day, my young listener. I'm a tale about animals that speak different languages. You're about to find out why cats don't chirp like birds, and dogs don't moo like cows.
Listen carefully and remember this... Oh, hang on, you don't have a moustache! Right then... Keep this in mind! Actually, no, don't need to hurt that lovely little nose of yours. Let's just say you'll simply remember why all animals speak differently. Deal? Right, listen up.
Once upon a time, ages ago, all creatures spoke the same language. That's right! I can't quite remember what it sounded like to human ears. Maybe "blum-blum" or "purli-churli". Or "dyshik-kabydyshik". Or even in a sing-song way: "pu-u-uchiki-puchiki, pu-u-uchiki-lapuchiki". It was so long ago that nobody remembers exactly.
The main thing is — everyone understood each other. For example, a wombat would be walking through a paddock, big paws going "thump-thump", and a bee would call out:
Watch out, mate! Move azzide! I'm collecting nectar here!
And he'd — whoosh! — move his paw away, wouldn't step on the flower with the little bee. Or another example: a young joey got carried away playing, got lost. He hopped up to a creek and asked a fish:
S-sorry, p-please. Which way is my g-green hill with the d-daisies?
The fish replied:
The bub-bubble hill is past the bub-bubble gum tree. Bub-better not get lost again!
You've probably been told that animals love coming to the water. To drink, to have a swim, or just to admire the creek or billabong. It's very good for you and pleasant! And so relaxing that every now and then they'd start discussing their secrets in the warm water.
Back when different animals all spoke the same way, fish knew everything about everyone. And they loved a good chinwag themselves. So they started spilling everyone else's secrets.
One day they told the wild pigs what they'd heard from the dingoes about where they were going hunting. The next day they blabbed to the possums what they'd heard from the pigs about where to find lots of seeds. Another time they gossiped to the owls what they'd heard from the possums about how they camouflaged their hollows.
Day after day — and the animals had no secrets left. All the hidden nests and burrows were no longer secret and couldn't protect their owners anymore. All the little-known clearings with berries and nuts were quickly trampled. Chaos began to reign, and conflict settled everywhere.
But the animals were angriest at the fish. They declared:
We can't live in peace because of your gossip, you blabbermouths! You should swallow your tongues and never yap on about nothing again!
The fish took offence at being told off. So they went and swallowed their tongues! And to this day they don't talk to anyone.
But the animals didn't trust anyone anymore. So they decided to invent their own secret sounds. Mice started squeaking so nobody could work out where their new burrows were. Birds started chirping, whistling and singing so others wouldn't understand what they were chattering about. Foxes just snorted at everyone around them and quietly yapped amongst themselves.
Before long, everyone forgot how they used to communicate with each other. Now only frogs understand croaking, and dingoes understand howling. And fish just wave their fins and tails about, but don't say anything out loud. That's how, because of gossip, the animals fell out and lost their common language.
It's too late now to judge who was more at fault. Perhaps they shouldn't have discussed their business in front of strangers. Perhaps they shouldn't have revealed other people's secrets to everyone around. Either way, both are now considered poor form.
I hope, my young listener, you'll remember well what unnecessary gossip leads to. Think carefully before you say something. Otherwise you'll lose your common language with your mates and loved ones — and you'll be left all alone.
Well, I'm pretty tired now, off to sleep. Good night!
