The Story
Long ago in the Dreamtime, when the world was still finding its shape, there lived a frog of extraordinary size named Tiddalick. He was bigger than a boulder, rounder than a hill, and on this particular morning he woke up feeling very, very thirsty.
So he drank.
He drank from the nearest stream, and the stream ran dry. He drank from the river, and the river turned to mud and cracked. He lumbered across the land and drank from every waterhole, every pond, every puddle he could find, until every drop of water in the whole country was inside his enormous belly.
The other animals gathered together, frightened and desperate. The trees drooped. The fish flopped on dry mud. The birds could find nothing to drink. Even the kangaroos, who could hop far, found only dust.
The old wombat spoke first. "We cannot force the water out of him. He is too large and too stubborn. But if we could make him laugh — truly laugh — the water might come tumbling out."
So the animals took turns trying to make Tiddalick laugh.
The kookaburra told his funniest joke. Tiddalick blinked slowly and said nothing.
The kangaroo did a lopsided dance. Tiddalick yawned.
The echidna tried to juggle with its own spines. Still nothing.
One by one the animals tried and failed, and the sun beat down and everything grew drier.
Then the long eel, Nabunum, slithered forward. He began to dance — but the most ridiculous, wobbly, impossible dance anyone had ever seen. He tied himself in a knot. He stood on his tail. He spun in a spiral and fell over sideways, then leapt up and did it all again, with even more enthusiasm.
The animals began to giggle. The birds started to laugh. Even the old wombat chuckled.
And Tiddalick — great, round, stubborn Tiddalick — felt a trembling in his belly. A smile spread across his wide mouth. Then he burst out laughing, a great booming croak of laughter, and every drop of water came rushing out, pouring into the streams and rivers and waterholes and filling them up to the brim.
The fish swam. The trees lifted their leaves. The animals drank and were grateful.
And Tiddalick, empty and a little embarrassed, hopped quietly away and tried not to be quite so greedy ever again.