Master Rabbit and the Berries

The beasts were dying of thirst. They dug a well, but Master Rabbit refused to dig, saying “I have enough juicy food.”

He went and met the crane. They resolved to gather certain berries called mfulimuninga or nkoroondo, and soon they found them. Then they ate some and put the others aside. This done, they went and walked each his own way in the forest.

While they were on their walk, Master Rabbit bethought himself of going back, and he went and ate all the berries.

He then called to the crane and asked, “Who has eaten my berries? It must be you, Crane, since you were here.”

“Friend,” said the crane, “I have not seen them.”

“Now,” said the rabbit, “what will you pay me for the berries, my berries which you have eaten?” and he went on singing:

“My berries!

I am dead, I am eaten up.”

Mother! There is the crane shaking off and shaking off some of his feathers… “Which is the biggest?” he said, He threw a big one to Master Rabbit, who picked it up and went on his way home.

There he goes… He happened to meet on the road some people who were dancing the war dance and throwing the assegai at one another. “Here is a feather,” he said, “for one of you to put on.” So one of them stuck the feather on his head, but a gust of wind came and blew it off….

“Hello, munsanje!” said the man. “There is your feather going away.”

“Let it go,” said the rabbit, “let it go. What is it worth?”

“Well, Rabbit,” asked some of the people, “Does it not look as if we were men?”

The sun was going down, Someone said, “Have they given you back your feather?”

“They have not.”

So he sang:

“alas! My big feather,

That i got from my brother the crane,

The crane that ate my berries,

My berries that I found on a dry tree.

My berries! I am dead, I am eaten up.”

They gave the rabbit a fish-spear. He picked it up and went and met some people who were fishing. “here is a spear,” he said, “for one of you to spear the fishes.”

One man took it and went on killing fish after fish until he hit a big one. There was the spear disappearing into the water. Dear! Dear! It was going to stop only at the bottom.

“O munsanje, your spear is gone.”

“Let it go. What is it worth?”

When the rabbit saw the sun go down, he said, “It looks as if the sun were going while we rabbits are still here.”

“Yes,” he sang,

“My spear that I got from playing at war,

The people playing at war that lost my big feather,

The big feather that I got from my brother the crane,

The crane that ate my berries,

My berries that I found on a dry tree.

My berries! I am dead, I am eaten up.”

They made for the rabbit a parcel of fish, and he picked it up.

He went on and met some people who were eating porridge without relish. He asked them, “Do you really eat without relish? Here is some fish.”

They put the pot on the fire, then ate, and finished the fish while Rabbit slept. He then awoke. “Have you finished them?” he asked.

“Alas! My fishes which you have eaten,

The fishes that I got from people

fishing with kafir-corn stalks,

The fishermen that lost my fish-spears,

The fish-spear that I got from people playing at war,

The people playing at war that lost my big feather,

The big feather that I got from my brother the crane,

The crane that ate my berries,

The berries that I found on a dry tree.

My berries! I am dead, I am eaten up.”

They gave him kafir corn. He took it and went and met some people who were eating sour milk. “Here is some grain,” he said. “Grind it and cook some light porridge.”

They cooked it and ate it all up… Then he remembered: “Have they given you back your kafir corn, Rabbit?”

The sun was going down. So he said, “Give me back my kafir corn.”

“What?” they replied. “Did you not give it to us?”

“And I, did I tell you to eat it? O mother!

“Alas! my kafir corn that you have eaten,

The kafir corn that I got from people

Who were eating porridge without relish,

The people eating without relish that ate my fishes,

The fishes that I got from people

fishing with kafir-corn stalks,

The fishermen that lost my fish-spears,

The fishermen that lost my fish-spears,

The fish-spear that I got from people playing at war,

The people playing at war that lost my big feather,

The big feather that I got from my brother the crane,

The crane that at my berries,

My berries that I found on a dry tree.

My berries! I am dead, I eaten up.”

They gave him sour milk. So he went on and on, walking carefully. He then saw clouds: “Now,” he said, “it looks as if this little cloud were going to drench me. Somebody will have to pay for it.”

So he went to the top of an ant-hill. And there the little cloud burst upon him. He began to slip and fell over there. There was the sour milk spilt on the ground… “To think, he said, “that my sour milk should be spilt like that!

“My sour milk that I got from people eating think milk,

The people eating thick milk, that ate my kafir corn!

Ant-hill!

Give me my sour milk.

Ant-hill!

Give me my sour milk.”

O mother! Did not the ant-hill actually send out winged ants form him!

He picked them up and went to meet the lion, who was guarding the animals’ well. “Give me some water, ” he said, “I am thirsty.”

“This is no water for the rabbit,” said the lion. Did you not refuse to dig?

The rabbit said, “Do you know what I have here?”

“What is it that you have?” asked the lion.

“They are winged ants,” answered the rabbit.

“Well!” said the lion. “Tie me up while I eat, but let me have the winged ants.”

The rabbit tied him up properly, then gave him the winged ants. After that he went and drank his fill, and, when he had had enough, he took a bath in the well. Then he said, “Your water is all dirtied, as we are rabbits.” He went away.

Soon after that the beats came to drink from their well. They found the water dirty and asked, “Who is it that has made our water so dirty?”

The lion said, “It is the rabbit. Do you not see how he has tied me up?”

“What! The little rabbit has tied up such a big person! How did that happen?”

“He deceived me by giving me winged ants.”

The beats, hearing that, got up and, coming up to the rabbit, fired a cannon at him, boom! and he came to an end.

So does my little story.

[ THONGA ]

The Girl Who Was Sacrificed by Her Kin and Whom Her Lover Brought back from Below

THE SUN WAS VERY HOT and there was no rain, so the crops died and hunger was great. This happened one year; and it happened again a second, and even a third year, that the rain failed. The People all gathered together on the great open space on the hilltop, where they were wont to dance, and they said to each other, “Why does the rain delay in coming?” And they went to the Medicine-Man and they said to him, “Tell us why there is no rain, for our crops have died, and we shall die of hunger.”

And he took his gourd and poured its contents. This he did many times; and at last he said, “There is a maiden here who must be bought if rain is to fall, and the maiden is named Wanjiru. The day after tomorrow let all of you return to this place, and every one of you from the eldest to the youngest bring with him a goat for the purchase of the maiden.

On this day after morrow, old men and young men all gathered together, and each brought in his hand a goat. Now they all stood in a circle, and the relations of Wanjiru stood together, and she herself stood in the middle. As they stood there, the feet of Wanjiru sank lower to her waist, and again he cried aloud, “I am lost, but much rain will come!”

She sank to her breast; but the rain did not come. Then she again, “Much rain will come.”

Now she sank in to her neck, and then the rain came in great drops. Her people would have rushed forward to save her, but those who stood around pressed upon them more goats, and they desisted.

The Wanjiru said, “My people have undone me,” and she sank down to her eyes. As one after of her family stepped forward to save her, someone in the crowd would give to him or her a goat, and he would fall back. An Wanjiru cried aloud for the last time, “I am undone, and my own people have done this thing.” The she vanished from sight; the earth closed over her, and rain poured down, not in showers, as it sometimes does, but in a great deluge, and all the people hastened to their own homes.

Now there was a young warrior who loved Wanjiru, and he lamented continually, saying, “Wanjiru is lost, and her own people have done this thing.” And he said, “Where has Wanjiru gone? I will go to the same place.” So he took his shield and spear. And he wandered over the country day and night until, at last, as the dusk fell, he came to the spot where Wanjiru had vanished. Then he stood where she had stood and, as he stood, his feet began to sink as hers had sunk; and he sank lower and lower until the ground closed over him, and he went by a long road under the earth as Wanjiru had gone and , at length, he saw the maiden. But, indeed, he pitied her sorely, for her state was miserable, and her raiment had perished. He said to her, “You were sacrificed to bring the rain; now the rain has come, and I shall take you back.” So he took Wanjiru on his back as if she had been a child and brought her to the road once more on the ground.

Then the warrior said, “You shall not return to the house of your people, for they have treated you shamefully.” And he bade her wait until nightfall. When it was dark he took her to the house of his mother and he asked his mother to leave, saying that he had business, and he allowed no one to enter.

But his mother said, “Why do you hide this thing from me, seeing I am your mother who bore you?” So he suffered his mother to know, but he said, “Tell no one that Wanjiru has returned.”

So she abode in the house of his mother. He and his mother slew goats, and Wanjiru ate the fat and grew strong. Then of the skins they made garments for her, so that she was attired most beautifully.

It came to pass that the next day there was a great dance, and her lover went with the throng. But his mother and the girl waited until everyone had assembled at the dance, and all the road was empty. Then they came out of the house and mingled with the crowd. When the relations saw Wanjiru, they said, “Surely, that is Wanjiru whom we had lost.”

And they pressed to greet her, but her lover beat them off, for he said, “You sold Wanjiru shamefully.”

Then she returned to his mother’s house. But on the fourth day her family again came and the warrior repented, for he said, “Surely they are her father and her mother and her brothers.”

So he paid them the purchase price, and he wedded Wanjiru who had been lost.

[ AKIKUYU ]

The Beautiful Girl Who Had No Teeth

THERE WAS ONCE a man who had three sons, none of whom had a wife. One day the father went out to see if he could find a suitable girl for his eldest son, and he found a beautiful girl at a village nearby. That night, when he returned home, he called his eldest so and said, “I have found a beautiful girl for you, and tomorrow I want you to take cattle to her father.”

Early next morning the son went out with five of the cattle and presented them to the girl’s father. On his arrival the girl took his sticks and the young boys took the cattle to the kraal. The girl’s father then said, “Have you come to take my daughter?” To this the man replied that he had. The girl’s fasther then called his daughter and said, “Here is your husband, you must go with him to his home today.”

The girl replied that she was ready, and she and the man departed together for his home. On the road home the girl began to sing:

“I am a beautiful girl but I have no teeth.”

Her husband became alarmed and said, “Open your mouth that I may see if what you say is true.” To his surprise he found that what she said was true and that she had only a black ridge where her teeth should had been.

The husband then said, “I was not told of this, and I must return you to your father.” They returned to the girl’s home and there the husband demanded the return of his cattle as his wife had no teeth. The cattle were returned and the disappointed man went home. On his arrival his father asked, “Where is the girl, my son?”

The son replied, “I could not bring her home because she had no teeth.”

The second son, on hearing this, asked his father, “May I not go myself to see if the girl has no teeth, because I too was a wife?” The father agreed, and the next day the second son set off with the five head of cattle. Presenting them to the girl’s father, he said, “I have come for your daughter. I have come early so that I need not sleep here tonight but may return home with your daughter this evening.”

The man informed his daughter of the wishes of the young suitor and the girl replied, “Very well, but I must first give my husband some food.” After the meal the girl suggested that they depart at once, and they proceeded along the road. When she and the second son reached the same place on the road as before the girl began to sing:

“I am a beautiful girl but I have no teeth.”

On hearing this the young man asked her to open her mouth that he might see for himself. To his surprise he found that what she said was true and he immediately returned to her father.” “Here is your daughter,” he said, “she has no teeth and i want my cattle returned.” The girl’s father sadly agreed, and the second son returned to his home.

On his return his father said, “Where is the girl?”

The son replied, “I thought my brother was lying, but it is true. She has no teeth and I returned her to her father.”

The younger son now rose and asked his father if he might go and see for himself, and the father agreed.

The eldest brother asked in disgust, “Do you think that we are mad and stupid because we left the girl?”

“No, no,” answered the youngest brother, “but I should like to see a girl who has no teeth.”

The next day the youngest brother took the cattle and went to the girl’s kraal, where he presented the cattle and asked for the girl. The old man, seeing such a young man, siad, “You are very young to want a wife and, besides, both your brothers tried but returned my daughter. However, you may take her if you so wish.” Calling his daughter, he told her she must return with this new man to his home. The girl agreed and, after first giving her new husband some food, they proceeded down the road.

At the same place as before the girl again sang:

“I am beautiful but I have no teeth.”

“Opne your mouth,” said the young man anxiously. On seeing the black ridge within her mouth he showed some surprise, but only said, “Never mind, let us go on our way.” Arriving at a river the girl began to sing the same song, but the young man said nothing. When in the middle of the stream, he called to the girl to come near to him and, clasping her rightly by the neck with one hand, he told her to open her mouth; with the other hand he scrubbed the girl’s mouth with sand.

To his joy he found that beneath the coating of black shone a set of beautiful teeth, and, filled with happiness, he brought his wife to his father’s kraal. The other two brothers on seeing the girl, rushed to their father saying, “Come father, come and see your mad son, he has brought this girl home, although she is even now singing her song about her teeth.”

The father came, but said nothing, and the youngest brother called one of his sisters and told her to take his newly acquired wife to his mother’s hut. The girls of the village who had heard about this strange girl gathered about her and began to make jokes, so that when the newcomer laughed they might see if the story about her teeth were true. To their surprise they found that the girl had very good teeth.

Meanwhile the youngest son told his father that he had brought the girl home as his wife. The father was disappointed. “Yes, my son,” he said, “that’s all very well, but you have lost all my cattle. What can we do with this girl?” I hear she has no teeth and therefore cannot eat.” The son did not reply, for at the moment his sister came in and told her father that the newcomer had teeth, for she had seen them. The father said, “Are you sure?” Being convinced that it was so, he went to his son and said, “Very well, my son, we shall see your wife tomorrow.”

The next day the father entered the hut where the girl was and said, “I want you to open your mouth. I will give you a sheep for this favor.” The girl did as she was bid and the man saw for himself that she had teeth. The woman in whose hut the girl rested then trilled with her lips, and all three went out to the main yard, where the father called the elder sons and said, “What stupid boys you are! Look, this girl has fine teeth, and it has fallen to your youngest brother to find this out and to take her to wife.”

The two eldest brothers became very ashamed and would not look at the girl. A few days later large pots of beer were made and all the friends and neighbors came to pay their respects to the new arrival. All spoke if her beauty and her excellent teeth, but the two brothers never saw for themselves, their shame being too great.

The story is finished.

[ BAVENDA ]

Ngomba’s Basket

FOUR LITTLE GIRLS one day started to go out fishing. One of them was suffering sadly from sores which covered her from head to foot. Her name was Ngomba. The other three, after a little consultation, agreed that Ngomba should not accompany them, and they told her to go back.

“Nay,” said Ngomba, “I will do no such thing. I mean to catch fish for mother as well as you.”

Then the three girls beat Ngomba until she ran away. But she determined to catch fish also, so she walked and walked, she hardly knew whither, until at last she came to a large lake. Here she commenced fishing and singing:

“If my mother

[She catches another fish and puts it in her basket]

Had taken care of me

[She catches another fish and puts it in her basket]

I should have been with them

[She catches another fish and puts it in her basket]

And not here alone.”

[She catches another fish and puts it in her basket]

But a murderer, a mpunia, had for some time been watching her, and now he came up to her and accosted her:

“What are you doing here?”

“Fishing. Please, don’t kill me! See, I am full of sores, but I can catch plenty of fish.”

The mpunia watched her as she fished and sang:

“Oh, I shall surely die!

[She catches a fish and puts it in her basket]

Mother, you will never see me!

[She catches a fish and puts it in her basket]

But I don’t care

[She catches a fish and outs it in her basket]

For no one cares for me.”

[She catches another fish and puts it in her basket]

“Come with me,” said the mpunia.

“Nay, this fish is for mother, and I must take it to her.”

“If you do not come with me, I will kill you.”

“Oh! Am I to die

[She catches a fish and puts it in her basket]

On the top of my fish?

[She catches another fish and puts it in her basket]

If mother had loved me

[She catches another fish and puts it in the basket]

To live I should wish.”

[She catches another fish and puts it in her basket]

“Take me and cure me, dear mpunia, and I will serve you.”

The mpunia took her to his home in the woods and cured her. Then he placed her in the paint-house and married her.

Now the mpunia was very fond of dancing, and Ngomba danced beautifully, so that he loved her very much and made her mistress over all his prisoners and goods.

“When I go out for a walk,” he said to her, “I will tie this string round my waist; and that you may know when I am still going away from you, or returning, the string will be stretched tight as I depart, and will hang loose as I return.”

Now Ngomba pined for her mother and, therefore, entered into a conspiracy with her people to escape. She sent them every day to cut leaves of the mateva palm and ordered them to put the leaves in the sun to dry. Then she set them to work to make a huge utenda. When the mpunia returned, he remarked to her that the air was heavy with the smell of mateva.

Now Ngomba had made all her people put on clean clothes, and when they knew that the mpunia was returning, she ordered them to come to him and flatter him. So now they approached him, some calling him “father” and others “uncle”; others told him how he was a father and a mother to them. And he was very pleased and danced with them.

The next day when the mpunia returned, he again said he smelt mateva.

The Ngomba cried, and told him that he was both father and mother to her and that, if he accused her of smelling of mateva, she would kill herself.

He could not endure this sadness, so he kissed her and danced with her until all was forgotten.

The next day Ngomba determined to try her ntenda, and to see if it would float in the air. Four women lifted it high and gave it a start upwards, and it floated beautifully. Now the mpunia happened to be up in a tree, and he aspired this great ntenda floating in the air; and he danced and sang for joy, and wished to call Mgomba, that she might dance with him.

That night he smelt mateva again, and his suspicions were fully aroused. When he thought how easily his wife might escape him, he determined to kill her. Accordingly, he gave her some palm wine to drink which he had drugged. She drank it, and she slept as he put his sommo into the fire. He meant to kill her by pushing this red-hot wire up her nose.

But when he was almost ready, Ngomba’s little sister, who had changed herself into a cricket and hidden herself under the bed, began to sing. The mpunia heard her and felt forced to join in and dance, and thus he forgot to kill his wife. But, after a time, the cricket cased singing, and then he began to heat the wire again. The cricket then sang again, and again the mpunia danced and danced, and in his excitement he tried to wake Ngomba to dance also. But she refused to awaken, telling him that the medicine he had given her made her feel sleepy. Then the mpunia went out to get some palm wine, and as he went Ngomba drowsily asked him if he had made the string fast. He called all his people, dressed himself, and made them all dance.

The cock crew. The iron wire was still in the fire. Then the mpunia made his wife get up and fetch more palm wine.

Then the cock crew again, and it was daylight.

When the mpunia had left her in the morning. Ngomba determined to escape that very day. She called her people and made them try the ntenda again. When she was certain the it would float, she put all her people and the mpunia’s ornaments into it. Then she got in and the ntenda began to float away ever the tree-tops in the direction of her mother’s town.

When the mpunia, who ws up a tree, saw it coming toward him, he danced and sang for joy, and only wished that his wife had been there to see this huge ntenda flying through the air. It passed just over his head and then he saw plainly that the people in it were his people. So he ran after it in the tops of the trees until he saw it drop in Ngomba’s town. And he determined to go there also and claim his wife.

The ntenda floated round the house of Ngomba’s mother, and astonished all the people there, and finally settled down in front of it. Ngomba cried to the people there to come and let them out. But they were afraid and did not dare, so that she came out herself and presented herself to her mother.

Her relations at first did not recognize her, but after a little while they fell upon her and welcomed her as their long-lost Ngomba.

Then the mpunia entered the town and claimed Ngomba as his wife.

“Yes,” her relations said, “she if your wife, and you must be thanked for curing her of her sickness.”

While some of her relations were entertaining the mpunia, others were preparing a place for him and his wife to be seated. They made a large fire, and boiled a great quantity of water, and dug a deep hole in the ground. This hole they covered over with stick and a mat. When all was ready they led the mpunia and his wife to it and requested them to be seated. Ngomba sat near her husband, who, as he sat down fell into the hole. The relations then brought boiling water and fire, and threw this over him until he died.

[ BAKONGO ]

THE CHERRY-PICKERS

ONCE UPON A TIME some girls went to pick cherries, and one of them said to one of her comrades, “Let us pick cherries with out eyes shut.” now the rest of her comrades picked without shutting their eyes, and they picked red cherries, but she hers unripe. And she said, “Girls, let us open our eyes,” and she saw that the cherries of her comrades were red. So she said, “My comrades, wait: let me go and pick some good cherries.” And her comrades said, “Go.” However they deceived her and went their ways and defecated. Then she asked, “And you there?” And the dung replied, “We are.” But it was the dung which replied. So she tried to follow her comrades and sang:

“I went with those girls they left me

at the cherries..

They made me stay on the dung and on

the rock,

The dung cried ah-loo-rookok,

Ah-loo-rookok was cried on the rock.”

After a while she came to a marsh, and the marsh caused her to trip and fall and upset her cherries. But the marsh gave her a fish in excahnge for her cherries. So the girl sang:

“Behold, this marsh upsets my cherries:

My cherries I got on the rock, where

the girls left me:

I went with those girls: they left me

at the cherries.

They made me stay on the dung and on the rock,

The dung cried ah-loo-rookok,

Ah-loo-rookok was cried on the rock.”

The marsh then gave her another fish, but a kite snatched the fish away.

So the girl sang:

“Behold, this kite snatches my fish:

My fish I got from that marsh which upset

my cherries:

My cherries I got on the rock, where

the girl left me:

I went with those girls: they left me

at the cherries.

They made me stay on the dung and on the rock.

The dung cried ah-loo-rookok,

Ah-loo-rookok was cried on the rock.”

Then the kite gave her a father. And the girl went along and found a boy who was dancing with a spray of grass. The boy saw that the feather was pretty to grab the feather, and it was badly broken. So the girl sang:

“Behold, this boy breaks my feather:

My feather I got from the kite that snatched

my fish:

My fish I got from that marsh which upset

,y cherries:

My cherries I got on the rock, where

the girls left me:

I went with those girls: they left me

at the cherries.

They made me stay on the dung and on the rock.

The dung cried ah-loo-rookok,

Ah-loo-rookok was cried on the rock.”

So the boy thereupon gave her a withe. The girl went on and came upon a place where a man hit his cow with his penis. The girl laughed at him. “Why do you hit your cow with your penis? Have you no stick/” So the man seized her withe and hit his cow with it a nd the withe broke. Then the girl sang:

“Behold, this man breaks my withe:

My withe I got from the boy who broke my feather:

My feather I got from that kite that snatched

my fish:

My fish I got from that marsh which upset

my cherries:

My cherries I got on the rock, where

the girls left me:

I went with those girls: they left me

at the cherries.

They made me stay on the dung and on the rock,

The dung cried ah-loo-rookok,

Ah-loo-rookok was cried on the rock.”

The children gave her a razor. And next the girl found a place where they shave their heads with a potsherd, and she laughed. “Why do you shave with a potsherd?” Thereupon the man seized her razor and the razor broke. So the girl sang:

“Behold, this man breaks my razor:

My razor I got from those children who upset

my milk:

My milk I got from that man who broke my withe:

My writhe I got from that boy who broke my feather:

My feather I got from that kite that snatched

my fish:

My cherries I got on the rock where

the girls left me:

I went with those girls: they left me

at the cherries.

They made me stay on the dung and on the rock,

The dung cried ah-loo-rookok,

Ah-loo-rookok was cried on the rock.”

These people gave her a cow. Thereupon the girl went on and found a place where they eat bones with the dogs, and she said, “Take this cow and eat it.” Then they killed her cow and ate it, they and their children. So the girl sang:

“Behold, these men kill my cow:

My cow I got from that man who broke my razor:

My razor I got from those children who upset

my milk:

My milk I got from that man who broke my withe:

My withe I got from that boy who broke my feather:

My feather I got from that kite that snatched

my fish:

My fish I got from that marsh that upset

my cherries:

My cherries I got on the rock, where

the girls left me:

I went with those girls: they left me

at the cherries.

They made me stay on the dung and on the rock,

The dung cried ah-loo-rookok,

Ah-loo-rookok was cried on the rock.”

They gave her a dog in exchange for her cow. But the dog killed a man, and they arrested her as the owner of the dog. And the girl said, “Take me to the pasturage that I may defecate.” And they told her, “Go aside here.” But she said, “My dung smells offensive: let me go aside at a distance.” So she escaped from there, fearing vengeance for the man whom the dog had killed.

[ LANGO }

THE FAT WOMAN WHO MELTED AWAY

THERE WAS ONCE a very fat woman who was made of oil. She was beautiful and many young men applied to her parents for permission to marry her and offered a dowry; but the mother always refused. She said it was impossible for her daughter to work on a farm as she would melt in the sun. At last a stranger from a far-distant country fell in love with the fat woman, and he promised, if her mother would give her to him, that he would keep her in the shade. At last the mother agreed, and he took his wife away.

When he arrived at his house, his other wife immediately became very jealous because when there was work to be done, firewood to be collected, or water to be carried, the fat woman stayed at home and never helped, as she was frightened of the heat.

One day when the husband was absent, the jealous wife abused the fat woman so much that she finally agreed to go and work on the farm, although her little sister, whom she had brought from home with her, implored her not to go, reminding her that their mother had always told them, ever since they were born, that she would melt away if she went into the sun.

All the way to the farm the fat woman managed to keep in the shade. When they arrived at the farm the sun was very hot, so the fat woman remained in the shade of a big tree. As soon as the jealous wife saw this, she again began to abuse her and asked her why she did not do her share of the work. At last she could stand the nagging no longer and, although her little sister tried very hard to prevent her, the fat woman went out into the sun to work and immediately she began to melt away. Very soon there was nothing left of her but one big toe which had been covered by a leaf. This her little sister observed and, with tears in her eyes, she picked up the toe which was all that remained of the fat woman, and, having covered it carefully with leaves, she placed it in the bottom of her basket. As soon as she arrived at the house, the little sister placed the toe in an earthen pot, filled it with water, and covered the top up with clay.

When the husband returned, he said, “Where is my fat wife?” and the little sister, crying bitterly, told him that the jealous woman had made her go out into the sun and that she had melted away. She then showed him the pot with the remains of her sister, and told him that her sister would come to life again in three months’ time quire complete in body, but that he must send away the jealous wife, so that there should be no more trouble. If he refused to do this, the little girl said she would take the pot back to their mother, and when her sister became complete again, they would remain at home.

The husband then took the jealous wife back to her parents who sold her as a slave and paid the dowry back to the husband, so that he could get another wife. When he received the money, the husband took it home and kept it until the three months had elapsed. Then the little sister opened the pot and the fat woman emerged, quite as fat and beautiful as she had been before. The husband was so delighted that he gave a feast to all his friends and neighbors and told them the whole story of the bad behavior of his jealous wife.

Ever since that time, whenever a wife behaves very badly, the husband returns her to her parents, who sell the woman as a slave. Out of the proceeds of the sale they give the husband the amount of dowry which he paid when he married the girl.

[ EFIK-IBIBIO ]

THE CHILD AND THE EAGLE

A WOMAN HAD A CHILD. One day she went to work in the fields. While she was going to her work the child cried. When it stopped crying she suckled it, and after she had finished suckling it she laid it down in the shade. Then she went on hoeing.

Once again the child cried, and a bird came – an eagle – and sat upon it. It soothed the child with its wings. Then the child which was crying became silent. When she saw this the woman was greatly alarmed and said, “Dear me! How terrible! The eagle is eating my child!” As she went toward it the eagle flew away. Then she suckled her child, and after she had done suckling it she put it upon her back. When she had finished hoeing, she left off work and returned to the village.

On her arrival there, she did not tell her husband of the marvel which she had seen but kept it to herself. The next morning, the woman again went to work in the field with her child. The same thing happened – once again she laid the child to sleep in the shade. After a time the child cried. Then she beheld the eagle alight on the child and quiet it. Truly an astounding thing! Once again the woman went to her child. When the eagle saw her coming, it flew off and went to sit on a tree. The woman took her child and was greatly alarmed.

She returned to the village and, on her arrival, told her husband about it, saying, “A great marvel!”

Her husband asked, “What about ?”

The woman said, “Today is the second day I have seen the most amazing thing there where I hoe. I put my child to sleep in the shade, and as soon as it cried an eagle came, and when it alighted it stooped over the child and soothed it with its wings. Today is the second day that I have seen that bird act thus. Its name is eagle.'”

Thereupon the husband refused to believe her, saying, “No, you are lying; there never was such a thing.” The wife said no more.

Late in the afternoon the woman took her hoe and went to work in the field. On her arrival she laid her child in the shade. The child dried. Thereupon the woman thought, “Now I will go and call my husband, who disputed my word and said that I lied.” So the woman ran. When she arrived where her husband was, she cried, “Come on! It is you who disputed, saying there never was such a thing. Let us go now and see.”

The man took his bow and three arrows. On his arrival at the field, the woman said to him:

“Sit down here. I will put the child to sleep in the shade yonder, and then, when you see the bird coming, hide yourself.” The woman left the child and went some distance away, and the man hid himself there. Then the child cried very loudly. As the man watched, he saw the eagle come and sit upon the child. Then the man was greatly alarmed and charged his bow with two arrows, that he night pierce the eagle sitting on his child. Then he shot, but at the moment the eagle dodged, and both arrows pierced his child.

Now that is the explanation of the origin of murder. The eagle was a kind person; nevertheless that father of the child wished to kill it. Then the eagle cursed him, and said, “Now is kindness among men at an end, because you killed your child. Beginning with you, and going on to all people, you shall kill each other.

Tp this day people kill each other.

[ BALIA ]

M’wambia and the N’jenge

ONCE UPON A TIME there was a man who married a woman, and she bore him a male child. Then he married a second wife, and she also bore him a male child. After a while the first wife died.

Now the name of the eldest son was M’wambia, and the name of the second was also M’wambia, and he was known as M’ the Younger, to distinguish him from his brother.

When the two boys were about twelve and ten years old, it happened that the animal known as the N’jenge came from the wilds and ate the food in the fields. thereupon the two brothers went into the woods, and M’wambia the Elder made a snare to catch the N’jenge, and M’wambia the Younger also made a snare at a little distance away. Now a N’jenge came into the snare of M’wambia the Younger, and he released it and killed it and ate it. And a N’jenge also came into the snare of M’wambia the Elder, but he released it and did not kill it. He let it go free into the woods, and the two boys returned to the village and said nothing to their father.

One day the mother of M’wambia the Younger went into the fields and gathered sugar-cane, put it into her basket on her back, and brought it to the house. The father took a large piece and gave it to his elder son, but to the younger he gave a small piece. Then the younger brother said, “Why have you given me a small piece and my brother a big piece?’

And he said, “Because you have a mother while the mother of your brother is dead.”

Then M’wambia the Younger said to his father, “Come into the woods.”

Then he showed him the two snares, and told him how he had killed the N’jenge which he had caught, and how M’wambia the Elder had let him go. And the father was very angry and upbraided his elder son, because the N’jenge was very fat. He chose a tree, tall, with a straight stem, and made him climb up into it. Then he took spikes and stuck them into the ground around the tree with the points leaning inward toward the tree; and he made the points sharp, so that if the boy descended or fell down the points would run into him and he would die. He went away and left M’wambia the Elder in the tree.

Now M’Wambia stayed in the tree for twenty days, and at the end of that time, a N’jenge came and said, “Mangi Kihuti!”

And M’wambia said, “I am not Mangi, I am M’wambia.”

And the N’jenge took one spike and ccarried it away, and ten N’jenge came and each took one spike and carried it away. Then the N’jenge whom M’wambia had set free came, and he said, “Mangi.”

And the boy said, “I am M’wambia,” and he told him how he had set him free. The N’jenge, when he heard this, carried away all the remaining spikes and M’wambia gradually unloosed the grip of his arms around the stem of tree and slid to the bottom.

Next the N’jenge made a hole open in his side, and out came a big sheep. M’wambia took some fat to eat. At first he could not eat it, for he was so weak and was very sick; but afterward he ate a little, and then a little of the leg. Then the next day, he ate another piece of the leg. Thus the sheep provided him with food for four days. At the end of that time, the N’jenge opened his side again and there came out a goat, and that gave him food for four days, and then there came out tow goats, and these lasted three days, for M’wambia had grown stronger and bigger. There then came an ox, and the N’jenge ate too, and M’wambia grew still bigger and stronger.

Finally, the N’jenge said, “Go among the long grass and jump.” And M’wambia went among the long grass and jumped twice, and N’jenge said, “You are not yet strong enough.” So they ate another ox, and then the N’jenge said, “Go and jump again.” So M’wambia went and jumped four times. Finally, he said to the boy, “What would you like to possess?”

And he said, “A goat.”

And the N’jenge opened his side and gave him one hundred female goats which had not borne, one hundred female goats which had borne, one hundred young goats who knew their mother, one hundred male goats, one hundred fat male goats, one hundred sheep which had not borne, one hundred sheep which had borne, one hundred young sheep who knew their mother, one hundred male sheep, one hundred fat male sheep, one hundred cows which had not borne, one hundred cows which had borne, one hundred calves, one hundred oxen, one hundred fat oxen.

And the N’jenge said to M’wambia again, “What do you want?”

And M’wambia replied, “Women.”

And the N’jenge gave him two hundred goats and two hundred oxen to buy women. So M”wambia bought one hundred women. And the N’jenge said again, “What do you want?”

And he said, “I want nothing more.”

Then he went to the Gura River, and he built a big village for his wives and his oxen and his goats. But no children were yet born, so M’wambia went and tended the goats, and he sat on a hillside where he could see them all, for they were many.

Now the mother of M’wambia the Younger said to her young daughter, “Take a bag and go get vegetables.” So the child went to get the vegetables bout could see none; and she walked and walked, and at last she saw M’wambia sitting on the hillside herding goats, and she called out, “That is our M’wambia who was lost.” But he said nothing. And then she called out again, “That is our M’wambia who was lost.”

So he spoke to her and he asked, “How are they all at home, my father and my father’s brother?”

She said, “They are well.”

She saw his village and his wives and his cattle. Then he took a goat and killed it and cut it up and put it into her bag. She walked twelve hours and came to her home. As she came to the homestead she called out to her mother, “Bring me a cooking-pot in which to cook the vegetables.” And her mother brought a little one, and she said, “Bring me a big one.” And she brought a bigger, and the girl said, “That is not big enough.”

And the mother said, “Do you want the one in which we cook meat?” And she said, “Yes.”

And her mother asked, “What kind of vegetables have you that you want so large a pot?” The mother opened the bag and saw the meat, and she said, “You have stolen a goat.”

And the girl saaid, “I have not stolen it; it is from M’wambia.”

And her mother said, “Do not tell a lit. M’wambia is lost.”

And the girl said, “I have seen him, and the day after tomorrow you shall come and see him too.” And she told how she had seen him and his many ossessions.

So the next day they cooked the meat and ate it, and on the day after they all went together to see M’wambia. All went – his father and his father’s brother, and the mother and the father’s other wife, and M’wanbia the Younger, and the girl, and all the family. And when they came to where M’wambia the Elder was, they saw him sitting on the hill herding goats. And there was a river between them, and M’wambia the Elder took a string and he tied a goat to the end of the string and threw it across the river. And the father took hold of it to go to him. As he was being pulled across the river he was drowned because he had been cruel to his son. But the others got across safely, and when they came to the village of M’wambia the Elder and saw his many goods, they stayed there and made their home with him.

And after a while, M’wambia said, “I have many men and women to do work in my homestead.” And he gave his relations work to do – one had to mind the fill-grown goats, one had to mind the young goats, and one hed to work in the fields. And he said, “I will go away for a while and see if they do their work well.” And he went to another village and slept there for five days.

And when he came back to his homestead he saw some fat, and he said, “What is this fat on the ground?” And he looked and saw on the wall the head of N’jenge, and he knew that his friend the N’jenge had come to the village while he was away and that hsi relatives had killed him. And he said no word to them, but he said to himself, “My luck is gone, because the N’jenge is dead with whom I am of one heart.”

And he took a stone and a knife and made his knife very sharp, and he killed all the women and all the men, and all the goats and all the cattle. Then he took the knife and plunged it into his own breast, for the N’jenge, his luck, was dead.

[ AKIKUYU ]

The City where Men are Mended

ALL THE GIRLS of the town had assembled and had gone to the forest to pick herbs. While they were doing this, it began to rain; from the east it came, and they ran and got inside the hollow of a baobab tree, and the devil closed it up. When the rain had ceased, the devil said that each must give him her necklace and cloth before he would release her, and all gave them to him except one girl who refused to do so. So she had to remain, but the others went off home.

Now the tree had a small hole at the top, and girls who had returned told the girl’s mother, so she started off and came to see the place where her daughter was. Then she returned home and prepared food, and in the evening she went back to the tree and said, “Daughter, daughter, stretch out your hand and take this food.” So she stretched out her hand through the hole, and the girl got it and ate it, and then the mother went home again.

Now it happened, a hyena had heard all this and, later on, he returned and said, “Daughter, daughter, stretch out your hand and take this food.” But she replied, “That is not my mother’s voice,” and she would not. So the hyena went to a blacksmith and said, “Alter my voice for me, so that it will resemble that of a human being,” and the other said, “If I do improve your voice for you, even before you have arrived at the foot of the tree you will have eaten whatever you have found. However,” he continued, “I’ll do it for you,” and he did so. But as the hyena was returning, he saw a centipede, and he said, “Does one ignore what he finds in the morning?” So he took the centipede and ate it. Then he went to the tree and said, “Daughter, daughter, stretch out your hand and take this food.” But she replied, “That is not my mother’s voice.”

So the hyena became angry, and he returned to the blacksmith and was about to eat him, but the other said, “Stop, stop, stop, you must not eat me,” and he continued, “Why do you want to eat me?” Then the hyena replied, “Because you did not alter my voice properly.” Then the smith said, “Stop, I will do it properly.” So he altered the hyena’s voice and then the hyena returned to where the girl was and said, “Daughter, daughter, stretch out your hand and take this food.” This time she stretched out her hand, and, when she had done so, the hyena seized it and pulled the girl out of the tree and ate her, leaving only the bones. Then he went away.

Now the girl’s mother brought the food in the evening. But when she came, she saw her daughter’s bones, and she burst out crying there. Then she went home and got a basket, and she returned and collected the bones and took the road to the city where men were mended.

She travelled on and on, and after a time she came to a place where food was cooking itself, and she said, “O food, show me the road to the city where men are mended.” Then the food said, “Stay here and eat me,” but she replied, “I have no appetite, I do not wish to eat you.” So the food said, “When you have gone a certain distance, take the road on the right hand and leave that on the left.”

After a time she came upon meat which was grilling itself, and she said, “O meat, show me the road to the city where men are mended.” Then the meat said, “Stay here and eat me,” but she replied, “I have no appetite, I do not wish to eat you.” So the meat said, “When you have gone so far, take the road on the righthand and leave that on the left.”

So she started again, and as she was traveling, she came upon fura which was mixing itself in a pot, and she said, “O fura, show me the road to the city where men are mended.” Then the fura said, “Stay here and eat me,” but she replied, “I have no appetite, I do not wish to eat you.” So the fura said, “When you have gone a certain distance, take the road on the right hand and leave that on the left.”

She traveled on again and, at last, there she was in the city where men were mended. Then the people said, “What has brought you here?” And she replied, “The hyena has eaten my child.” “Where are the bones?” they asked. And she put down her basket and said, “See, here they are.” So they said, “Very well, tomorrow your daughter will be mended.”

When morning broke, they said to her, “Go out and tend the cattle,” so she unloosed the cattle and took them off to feed. Now these cattle had no food except the fruits of the adduwa tree, and when she had picked off the fruits above and had thrown them down, she picked out the ripe ones and gave them to the cattle, but she herself chose the green ones to eat. She fed them thus until the evening, and then they returned home, and as they reached the enclosure, the bigger bull began bellowing:

“This woman has a good heart,

Mend her daughter well.”

So the daughter was mended well, and the mother returned to her hut, for the people said to her, “Sleep here, and tomorrow you will go home.” So next day the daughter was brought and restored to her mother, and they went home.

Now the mother had a rival wife, who also had a daughter, but a very ugly one, and when the mother had returned home, the rival said that she too would kill her daughter, and go to the city where men were mended.

So took her daughter, and put her in a mortar, and began to pound her up. Then the daughter cried out, “O Mother, are you going to kill me?” But she went on pounding , and at last she took out the bones, and she brought a basket and put the bones into it, and then she took the road to the city where men were mended.

She traveled on and on, and after a time she came to a place where food was cooking itself, and she said, “O food, show me the road where men are mended.” Then the food said, “Stay here and eat me,” but she replied, “Opp, do you need to invite me to eat you?” So she stayed and ate the food.

After a time she came upon meat which was grilling itself, and she said, “O meat, show me the road to the city where men are mended.” Then the meat said, “Stay here and eat me,” and she replied, “Opp, do you need to invite me to eat you?” So she stayed and ate up the meat.

She started again, and as she was traveling, she came upon fura which was mixing itself in a pot, and she said, “O fura, show me the road to the city where men are mended.” Then the fura said, “Stay here and eat me.” and she replied, “Opp, do you need to invite me to eat you?” So she stayed and ate up the fura.

So on she traveled again and, at last, there she was in the city where men are mended. Then the people said, “What has brought you here?” And she replied, “The hyena has eaten my child.” “Where are the bones?” they asked. And she put down her basket and said, “See, here they are.” So they said, “Very well, tomorrow your daughter will be mended.”

When morning broke, they said to her, “Go out and tend the cattle,” so she unloosed the cattle and took them off to feed. Now when she had picked off the fruits of the adduwa tree, and had thrown them down, she picked out the green ones, and gave them to the cattle, and she herself choose the ripe ones to eat. She fed them thus until the evening, and then they returned home, and as they reached the enclosure, the biggest bull began bellowing:

“This woman has a bad heart,

Mend her daughter ill.”

So she tied up the cattle, and went to her hut, for the people said to her, “Sleep here, and tomorrow you will go home.” In the morning, the daughter was created with one leg, one buttock, one hand, the whole consisted of only one side. Half a nose was there, the other half was missing. And when the mother came and said that she was going home, the daughter was brought out to her, and they went off along the road.

When they had emerged from the forest, the mother said, “I am not your mother,” and she started off at a run, and went on and hid in some grass. But the daughter followed the footprints, and went on and on until she had found her, and said, “Arise, let us go on.” “Ah, it is you who are not my mother.”

Once more the mother started off at a run and entered their own town and went into her hut and shut the door. But the daughter came to the door and called out, “O Mother, I have come.” But the other remained silent. “O Mother, I have come,” said the daughter again, and she opened the door, and went to her mother. So they lived together, and the rival wife had to put up with the fact that the other’s daughter was beautiful while her own was hideous.

[ HAUSA }

THE TOWN WHERE NONE MIGHT GO TO SLEEP

A CERTAIN WOMAN had tow daughters. One was married to a man who lived in a town where no one was allowed to go to sleep, the other to one in a town where one might spit.

One day the woman cooked a dish of sweetmeats to take to the daughter who lived in the town where no one was allowed to go to sleep. As soon as the dish was ready she started off and, when she arrived, all the household said to her, “Welcome, welcome!” Food was prepared for her, for the son-in-law said, “See, my mother-in-law has come.”

Bu the daughter said, “O parent, no one may sleep here. Do not eat too much lest sleepiness should overcome you.”

But the mother said, “I knew long before you were born that sleep was not permitted here.”

“Oh, very well then,” replied the daughter, “I’ll say no more.” And the mother ate every bit of the food that was brought to her.

The night =, although she lay down, she managed to keep awake. In the morning the daughter took up her jar to go to the stream for water and said to her mother, “See here, I have put the breakfast on to boil. Please keep up there fire while I am away.

but when the daughter had gone, although her mother managed to replenish the fire for a time, drowsiness overcame her in the end, and she lay down and fell fast asleep, Just then a neighbor came to get fire and, when she saw the sleeping woman, she exclaimed, “Alas! So-and-so’s mother-in-law is dead.”

Then the drummers were sent for, and soon the whole town had assembled at the house and a grave had been dug. The drums were saying:

“Birrim, birrim, get a corpse mat,

Death’s in the son-in-law’s house.”

But the daughter heard from where she was, and cried out:

“Stay, oh, stay, don’t get a corpse mat,

We are accustomed to sleep.”

And when she had come to her house, she roused her mother, and said, “Wake up, wake up.” Then the mother awoke a start and the people were terrified, but they soon saw that it was nothing to be afraid of, and the whole town began to learn how to sleep.

Now the mother returned to her own home, and one day she cooked more sweetmeats and decided to visit her other daughter, the one living in the town where no one might spit.

When she arrived, the household said, “Welcome, welcome!” And the son-in-law said, “My mother-in-law has come.” So he killed a fowl and sent her a dish of rice. The daughter said to her mother, “Do not eat much. You know that in this town no one is allowed to spit.”

The mother replied, “Thanks for the information! I knew that before ever you were born.”

“Very well,” said the daughter, and she took no more notice. The mother ate until she was full.

Now when night came, she wanted very much to spit, but she did not know where she could do so without being found out. At last she went to the place where the horses were tied, and she spat, and covered the place with some of the cut grass there. But the earth was not used to this, and the part spat upon rose up and began to complain, saying:

“Umm, umm, I am not used to this,

Umm, umm, I am not used to this.”

Soon all the people came and siad, “Who has spat here?” Then they said, “Bring out the magic gourds, the small one and the large, and let everyone come here and step over them; and the gourds will catch hold of the one who has spat.” So all the people of the town stepped over them, but no one was seized and they were surprised. Then someone said, “See here, there is a stranger amongst us, let her come and step over the gourds.”

Immediately when she had come and had lifted up a leg to step over, the gourds seized her, and everyone said, “It is she who has spat, it is she who has spat! And the gourds began singing these words:

“The things which clasp and hold on,

The mother-in-law has got them.”

She could not sit down, for they held on to her body.

Now, the spider, that interfering person, met her, and said, “O mother-in-law, how lucky you are to have gourds which sing such a beautiful song. I should like to have them.”

So she replied, “Very well, spit on the ground and say that it waas not you who did it.”

And when he had done so, he said, “There! But ut us not I who have done it, if it is I, O you magic gourds, seize me.”

And immediately the gourds loosed the woman and seized him. They began singing:

“The things which clasp and hold on,

The spider of spiders has got them,”

and the spider felt exceedingly pleased, and began to dance.

But soon he got tired and said, “O mother-in-law, you thing to be avoided, come and take your gourds.” But she refused to do so.

Then the spider climbed a tree, and when he got high up he threw himself down on his buttocks, so as to smash the gourds. But they moved to one side, and so the spider’s back was broken and he died. then the magic gourds returned to where they had come from, and all the townspeople began to spit, for they saw the there was no harm in it.

[ HAUSA ]