THE WIND AND THE DUCK
ON a bitterly cold day of winter, the Northwest Wind, rising, saw a solitary Duck diving through the few holes still remaining in the ice, near the shore of a great Bay.
"What folly!" blustered the Wind, "to try to resist me who have driven every other living creature away."
So saying, the Wind blew so hard and so cold that he froze over all the remaining holes, and forced the poor little Duck to take shelter under the lea of the bank. Satisfied with this success, the Wind retired, whistling, to his far-away home in the mountains. When he arose the next morning, he found, to his surprise, that the Duck had discovered some new holes and was pushing the reeds out of her way and diving as cheerfully as ever.
"This will never do," howled the Wind, "No Duck is going to get the best of me!"
So for a whole week the Wind blew, harder and harder, bleaker and bleaker every day. But regularly each morning, when he arose he found the little Duck steadily at work, seeking out or breaking new holes, or else patiently waiting for the ice to drift out of her way, and earning her living as best she could. At last the Wind said to himself:
"Such brave persistence deserves success. I may as well leave the Duck in peace."
(Indian Fable. From American Wonderland, by Richard Meade Bache, 1871.)
