Free The Man Who Spoke Snakish by Andrus Kivirähk

don’t want to go in there,” replied Ints. “He’s bound to be terribly filthy inside. I’ll get covered in smudges, and my skin is so new and beautiful.”
    “Please, Ints! You’re my friend, after all. Afterward you can go and wash yourself in the lake.”
    “No, I’m not going inside all that mush. But I know what to do. We’ll invite a slowworm.”
    Slowworms were not actually snakes, but simply legless lizards. Adders paid them no attention, since they thought that slowworms were trying to compare themselves with snakes, while being nothing like as clever, and therefore not deserving the name of snake. But they used slowworms to carry outirksome tasks, such as this one. Ints hissed, and pretty soon a long slowworm came slithering closer through the grass and lay submissively before the adder.
    “Go inside that monk and look for a ring,” Ints commanded.
    The slowworm nodded and wriggled nimbly into the monk’s mouth. Soon we saw the neck of the corpse bulging and then falling back; the slowworm had crawled through it.
    For a while nothing happened. Finally Ints tilted his head and announced, “I think I hear the slowworm’s voice. Can you hear it?”
    I had to admit I couldn’t hear anything, and no wonder. Adders have far sharper hearing. Ints crawled over to the monk’s stomach and listened intently.
    “Yes, he says he’s found the ring, but can’t manage to bring it out. It won’t fit in his mouth. I think you’d better make a little hole into the monk with your sheath knife, then the slowworm will push the ring out through it.”
    “Where exactly am I supposed to make the hole?” I asked, taking out the knife. Ints showed me the place. I started cutting. It was quite difficult, because apart from the skin of the stomach I had to also cut a thick layer of fat that covered the monk’s belly. The knife had almost vanished among the creases when finally Ints cried, “The slowworm says he can see your knife! Now make the hole wider.”
    Now even I could hear the slowworm’s hissing. I twisted the knife in my hand, and in this way I prepared a hole through which the ring would fit.
    “Now push!” Ints commanded the slowworm.
    Movement could be seen under the hole, and after a while the luster of gold began to appear from inside the monk. The ringemerged into the daylight. I caught it by the fingers and in a moment the ring was in my hand. It was slimy and bloody, but I rubbed it clean against the grass and popped it onto my finger.
    “Come out now!” said Ints to the slowworm. “Everything’s all right.”
    After a little while the slowworm became visible, but he didn’t come out of the monk’s mouth but out of the fringe of his dress.
    “I didn’t turn back,” he hissed.
    “Thank you so much,” I said. “Come by our place another time—my mother will give you a haunch of venison.”
    “With great pleasure!” promised the slowworm, and disappeared into the forest.
    “Did you notice how he looked?” Ints asked in a whisper. “Horrible! I couldn’t imagine crawling through all that. What would be left of my skin? No fountain could ever wash off that filth.”
    “The slowworm is the color of shit anyway, so it doesn’t look too bad on him,” I said.
    We considered continuing the search for the Frog of the North, but evening had fallen by now, and we both had empty stomachs. We decided to go home and eat, and look for the Frog of the North some other time.
    “Anyway I don’t believe this is the right ring anymore,” said Ints when we had set off homeward. “A real ring would never have ended up in a monk’s stomach. The Frog of the North doesn’t live in anyone’s intestines!”
    “That was just unlucky!” I said, but Ints shook his head doubtfully.

Seven
    e went in search of our fortune with the ring a few more times, but it was no use. The Frog of the North could not be found. Each time our journey ended with us at some point not wanting to go on any farther, and