THE BIG MOUTH

One hot African day Bert, a bull of a warthog, and his little troop of warthogs; gathered in the path next to the stream. Bert was complaining about Simba the Lion King again, as he did often when he was dissatisfied with his rule. His little company of bush pigs were, as always, the only sympathetic ears he could find for his hog-like gripes and grievances. “I tell you, if it wasn’t for my good temper and patient nature I would take no nonsense of that lion. I would overthrow him in an instant with my mighty tusks, and set the record straight. I would get this kingdom back on track, all right, and get rid of that little upstart by the morning!” he said with a grunt. All the other warthogs, grunted in acknowledgement and support, and gave grunt-like little chuckles of satisfaction. Just then the mighty Simba himself came strolling down the path, and growled; “What are you little warthogs gossiping about this time?” But brave Bert was already leading his little troop of warthogs away to safety under the undergrowth and bushes, far away from the danger of any lion claws that may injure or kill. “Nothing” murmured Bert “I was just showing them the safest way back home through the dense bush, great King.” And then they scurried away in a great hurry with their tails in the air. “That’s what I thought” mused Simba, as he strolled confidently on along the path; ‘King of the Jungle’.