Frogs (and their warty cousins, the toads) have got to be the original smileys. Their smiles may be cheesy, sardonic and even supercilious, and when they combine this with their jumps (some can leap 61/2 feet) they can make any child (and sensible grownup) chuckle with delight! Maybe that’s because many babies also froggy-hop on their bottoms before they graduate to being toddlers!
And every child (or adult) ought to be fascinated, by how tadpoles (aka as polliwogs!) seemingly eat their own tails while developing into adult frogs. To that add, frogs taught us the breaststroke and we seem to have copied their webbed hind leg design (without paying them any royalties) for our swimming flippers. Their sterling service to humankind however has got to be the major role they play in pest control: a single frog can dispense with 100 malaria-dengue-infected mosquitoes in a single night. Not to mention, tadpoles-devouring mosquito larvae. That and the fact that they are very important bio-indicators, their presence or absence signalling the state of the environment. In return, we blind them with bright lights, stun them, and then hack their legs off and throw them back into the water so some of us can enjoy ‘jumping chicken’ in restaurants. Goa was infamous for this until the trade in frog legs was banned and frogs attained a position in Schedule II of the Wildlife Protection Act (1972). But the use of pesticides and herbicides (and a nasty virus) has decimated their population and caused malformed development in many species.
Frog legs are still consumed abroad: Indonesia and China are top exporters, France and other European countries and the U S top importers. This outside local consumption: all told some 3.2 billion frog legs are consumed globally every year.
They really are pretty unique amphibians; all 7600+ species of them, comprising some 88 per cent of all amphibian species. In India, we’ve only as yet counted about 380 species (250 from the Western Ghats alone), which means too few scientists are looking out for them! They can jump and hop of course, swim, climb trees, burrow deep underground, hibernate, aestivate, breathe through their skin and even glide. They can freeze and defrost and go into torpor and come alive again. Their skin is usually moist and slippery — to prevent dehydration and help escape predators. They wriggle out of their skin periodically and eat it, obeying Mother Nature’s old adage: nothing must be wasted. The skin may also be highly toxic as is that of the Amazon’s famous poison dart frogs. These imbibe the poison from the invertebrates they eat, which may get it from poisonous plants that they consume. But yes, the bright patterns and colours of these tiny frogs warn you to keep away. The warts and wrinkles on a toad’s skin are chiefly for camouflage. Frogs croak — either solo or in chorus — especially to woo the ladies and concerts can be heard from 1.6 km away. They even have special calls for distress, to proclaim territory and even for when they are jilted! Each species has its own special call.
In India, the best time to look out (and listen) for frogs is the monsoon when champions like the Indian bullfrog literally fall head-over-heels in love. From camouflage patterned olive-green and browns, they turn a bright school bus yellow and inflate cobalt blue cheek pouches, which serve as croak amplifiers. One monsoon, about 200 of them had congregated in a rain-filled ditch on the Northern Ridge and were engaged in an orgy-cum-brawl of epic proportions. The ladies seemed to be in short supply so the brawlers desperately tried to get on (and stick on) to their backs while kicking away rivals like stallions. The clasped couple (the gentleman has an especially sticky chest and tummy to glue him onto her) would somersault headfirst into the water as the lady released her eggs wrapped up in what seemed to be the frog equivalent of bubble wrap; spawn. Fertilisation takes place externally.
Frogs and tadpoles are usually carnivorous: the Indian bullfrog may enjoy insects, small mammals and birds, and tadpoles are known to feast on one another. On one occasion at the Sultanpur National Park, we came across a battalion of bullfrogs hopping in and out of the open carcass of a nilgai, their wide mouths snapping open and shut. Ah, so enjoying steak I thought, but examination through binoculars revealed that they were frenziedly snapping up the bluebottles that were feeding and laying their eggs on the carcass. Several egrets and pond herons stood around just watching (as some cops due in crises) too afraid to tackle these hefties: a kick from them could snap a slender leg.
Because they need to jump, their powerful thunder thigh muscles comprise 17 per cent of their body weight, most of which are tuned for the leap and much fewer for reloading after the leap. The Indian skipper can leap right out of the water, where it might have been squatting. Most of a tadpole’s tail tissue is used for developing the frog’s limbs. Frogs are short-sighted, (but usually have lovely eyes and binocular vision) and can hear both above and beneath the water’s surface. Their sticky tongues flicker out snaring the blur they see passing by or an insect perched on a stalk.
They get eaten majorly too — by mammals, reptiles, fish and birds (which are brave enough!) and of course, ourselves. Yet, with their romantic croaks and comical grins frogs (and toads) will continue to enchant us for all times to come!