Krishna stepped out of the mud hut. He stopped. The little calf was gone.
He patted the empty space. 'Little calf?' he called.
Krishna ran to the banyan grove. 'Moo!' he called. Something red fluttered above.
He picked it up. It smelled like grass and milk. 'Not good enough,' he thought.
Krishna marched to the riverbank. He blew his bamboo flute. The river gurgled back.
A frog blinked at him. 'Stay,' Krishna whispered. The hill behind the village waited.
From the other side of the hill came a sleepy 'Moo!' Krishna's eyes went wide.
There was the little calf, munching clover. Krishna hugged it. They walked home together.