An Elephant fell madly in love with a Zulu woman Cisse and married her. Cisse’s two brothers came to visit her secretly but, for fear of him, she told Elephant she wanted to fetch some wood and then went and hid the two brothers in the firewood.
Then she said, “Since I have married into the kraal, I beg you to tell me, has the one-without-hair-at-the-knees been slaughtered for me?” {That would be a fully grown ram.} The blind mother-in-law answered her, “Things that were not spoken about of old, these she now speaks of and the smell of a Cisse is present.” Thereupon the woman answered her mother-in-law, “Should I not anoint myself in the old way and sprinkle myself with incense?” And the mother-in-law said, “Hum, things are being said by my son’s sweetheart which she did not say of old.”
Just then, Elephant, who had been in the field, came home and behaved as though he had found out that the woman’s two brothers had come. He rubbed himself against the house. Then the wife said, “What I did not do of old, now I do. Which day did you slaughter for me the ram lying far back in the kraal, and when did I anoint myself and sprinkle myself with my incense? Thus the woman spoke to him. Thereupon the mother-in-law said to him, “Things which were not spoken about of old are spoken now; therefore grant her her desire.”
So the one-without-hair-at-the-knees was slaughtered. And the woman herself fried it. That night she asked her mother-in-law, “How do you breathe when you sleep the sleep of life, and how do you breathe when you sleep the sleep of death?” And the mother-in-law said, “Hum, this is an evening rich in conversation. When we sleep the sleep of death, we breathe sui sui, and when we sleep the sleep of life, we breathe choo awaba, choo awaba.”
Then the woman prepared all her things as well as herself, while the others just slept. When they snored heavily and slept the sui sui sleep, she rose and said to her brothers, “The people are sleeping the sleep of death, let us make ready!” So they rose and went out, and she uncovered the mat-house and took all the necessary things and said, “Any noice that is made means that someone wants me to die.” So all things were done in silence. Then with the two brothers, who stood ready to go, she went among the flock, leaving her husband just a cow, a sheep, and a goat. Then she instructed the cow, “Do not cry as though you were only one, if you do not desire my death.” She spoke to the sheep and the goat in a like manner. Then they moved on with all the flock behind them. Now, the animals that had been left behind, cried out and cried out noisily in the night, as though all of them were still there, and Elephant thought all of them were really there. When he arose at daybreak, he saw his wife had left with everything, so grabbed a stick and said to his mother, “If I fall, the earth will resound with a thud.” And he pursued them.
When his wife and her brothers saw him coming close, they turned aside bout could not penetrate a rock which barred the way. Thereupon the woman said, “We are people behind whom a big company of travelers is following, so, rock of my forefathers, spread out to both side for us!” And the rock parted and then, when all had gone through, closed again.
Elephant, too, soon arrived and said to the rock, “Rock of my forefathers, cleave yourself for me too!” Then it spread itself and then he had entered, closed again. There Elephant died. The earth resounded with a thud. His mother at home said, as it was predicted by my oldest son, so it has happened. The earth has just resounded with a thud.”
Gulari once found some snakes fighting. As he came near and looked at them he saw that one snake had been killed. He reproved them. He said, “Go away.”
One snake gave him a charm, saying, “By means of this charm you will hear all things. When the rat talks, you will hear it. When the cow talks, you will hear it. You will hear everything that is said.” The man passed on. He came to the village.
At night Gulari’s wife Wadda locked the house so that there was no open place. All was quite dark. She and her husband Gulari lay down to sleep. A mosquito came to the door. It examined the house and found no way in. The mosquito exclaimed, “They have locked the house very tightly. How can one get in?”
The Gulari understood and laughed.
“What are you laughing about?” asked Wadda his wife.
“Nothing,” said Gulari.
Later, a rat came. He examined the door. He found it fast closed and left it. Then he tried the eaves of the house and got in. He searched everywhere. He wanted butter but he found none. He said, “Oh, where has that woman stored her butter?” Gulari laughed.
His wife Wadda asked him, What are you laughing at?”
He answered, “Nothing.”
In the morning Gulari went to his barn. He let the cattle out. When it was nearly milking time his wife Wadda came to milk. When she arrived the cow said, “Of course you come, but you will not milk me today. I shall withhold my milk. My calf will drink it afterward.” Gulari laughed.
Wadda asked him, “what are you laughing at?”
He answered, “Nothing.”
Wadda left the cow. She returned to the village. Then the calf sucked its mother.
The next day Wadda again came to milk. The cow again with held its milk. In the afternoon Wadda’s child was ill for want of milk. She brought it to the barn and she talked to Gulari. She said, “That calf will kill my daughter.”
The cow interrupted, “What! My daughter will kill your daughter?”
Gulari laughed.
Wadda asked him, “What are you laughing about?”
He answered, “Nothing.”
When it was nearly sunset his wife said, “I shall get a divorce.”
She called all the people. They came to her husband’s place. They seated themselves. They said to the wife:
“You Wadda and your husband Gulari talk. We will listen.”
Wadda talked. She said to the people, “When we lie down to sleep, my husband Gulari always laughs at me without any reason. When I ask him why he does it he hides the reason from me. That is why I object to him?”
Then they asked Gulari, “Why do you laugh at Wadda? Tell us.”
He answered, “Nothing.”
They said again, “Tell us.”
He answered, “Men, if I tell it, I will die.”
They said, “Tell it Gulari! Do not hide it.”
He replied, “Oh, men, I will not tell it. I will surely die if I do.””
They urged him. When he was worn out he told them. Gulari said to the people, “This is the reason why I laughed when we were lying down in the house. After a while at night the mosquito would talk. It would say, “Who is this woman that has locked up her house so tightly?’ Where can one get in?” That is why I laughed.”
Gulari died, as he had said. The people cried. Some of them dug a grave. As they were about to bury the body a certain snake hastened to the desolate spot. It wrapped itself around the body. It stuck its tail in the nose of the dead man Gulari. He sneezed. the people were amazed. Some of them said, “Is it his god?”
Others replied, “Why ask who it is?”
When Gulari stood up the snake left.
When Guklari had quite recovered he travelled through the desolate places. He found the snake under a tree. The snake said, “But why did you tell? Long ago when I gave you that charm I told you it would make you hear all things.”
Gulari replied, “They urged me, so I told them.”
The snake said, “Oh!”
Then the snake gave him another charm, saying, “You will hear the words of the birds which eat the corn, if another bird came near, the first one would say, “Bird! Do not come. We shall be seen. I am eating quietly. This is my place. Let us separate. The field is large.”
After a while another bird would reply, “What! I shall be found out?” A third would break in, “How will you get out? Perhaps they will find us.”
“Let him go.” cried one bird.
“I am not going,” said another. Gulari laughed there in the corn field.
It is said that there was once a great town in a certain place which had many people living in it. They lived only upon grain. One year there was a great famine.
Now in that town there was a poor man, by the name Mbenque, and his wife. One day they went in their garden, and they continued digging the whole day long. In the evening, when the digging gangs returned home, they returned also. Then there came a bird which stood upon the house which was beside the garden, and it began to whistle and said:
“Mbenque’s cultivated ground, mix together.”
The ground did as the bird said. After that was done, the bird went away.
In the morning , when Mbenque and his wife went to the garden, they were in doubt, and said, “Is this really the place we were digging yesterday?”
They saw that it was the place by the people who were working on each side of them. The people began to laugh at them, and mocked them, and said, “It is because you are very lazy.”
They continued to dig again that day, and in the evening they went home with the others.
Then the bird came and did the same thing.
When they went back next morning, they found their ground altogether un-dug. Then they believed that they were bewitched by some of the others.
They continued digging that day again. But in the evening when the digging gangs returned, Mbenque said to his wife, “Go home, I will stay behind to watch and find the thing which undoes our work.”
Then he went and laid himself down by the head of the garden, under the same house on which the bird always perched. While he was thinking, the bird came. It was a very beautiful bird. He was looking at it and admiring it, when it began to speak.
It said, “Mbenque cultivated ground, mix together.”
Then he caught it, and said, “Ah! it is you who eats the work of our hands!”
He took out his knife from the sheath and was going to cut off the head of the bird.
Then the bird said, “Please don’t kill me andI will make some milk for you to drink.”
Mbenque answered, “You must bring back the work of my hands first.”
The bird said, “Mbenque’s cultivated ground, appear,” and it appeared.
Then Mbenque said, “Make the milk now,” and behold, it immediately made thick milk, which Mbenque began to drink. When he was satisfied, he took the bird home. As he approached his house, he put the bird in his bag.
After he entered his house, he said to his wife, “Wash all the largest beer pots which are in the house.”
But his wife was angry on account of her humger and she answered, “What have you to put in such large pots?”
Mbenque said to her, “Just listen to me, and do as I command you, then you will see.”
When she was ready with the pots, Mbenque took his bird out of his bag, and said, “Make milk for my children to drink.”
They commenced to drink, and when they were finished, Mbenque charged his children, saying, “Beware that you do not tell anybody of this, not even one of your companions.”
They swore to him that they would not tell anybody.
Mbenque and his family then lived upon this bird. The people were surprised when they saw him and his family. They said, “Why are the people at Mbenque’s house so fat? He is poor, but now since his garden has appeared he and his children are so fat!”
They tried to watch and to see what he was eating, but they never could find out at all.
One morning Mbenque and his wife went to work in their garden. About the middle of the same day the children of that town met together to play. They met just before Mbenque’s house. While they were playing the others said to Mbenque’s children, “Why are you so fat while we remain so thin?”
They answered, “Are wet hen fat?” We thought we were thin just as you are.”
They would not tell them the cause. The others continued to press them, and said, “We won’t tell anybody.”
Then the children of Mbenque said, “There is a bird in our father’s house which makes milk.”
The others said, “Please show us the bird.”
They went in to the house and took it out of the secret place where their father had placed it. They ordered it as their father did, to make milk, and it made milk, which their companions drank, for they were very hungry.
After drinking they said, “Let it dance for us,” and they loosened it from the place where it was tied.
The bird began to dance in the house, but one said, “This place is too confined,” so they took it outside the house. While they were enjoying themselves and laughing, the bird flew away, leaving them in great dismay.
Mbenque’s children said, “Our father will this day kill us, therefore we must go after the bird.”
So they followed it and continued going after it the whole day long, for when they were at a distance it would sit still for a long while and, when they aproached, it would fly away.
When the digging gangs returned from digging, the people of the town cried for their children, for they did not know what had become of them. But when Mbenque went into the house and could not find his bird, he knew where the children were, but he did not tell any of the other parents. He was very sorry about the bird, for he knew that he had lost his food.
When evening set in, the children wanted to return to their homes, but there came a storm of rain with heavy thunder, and they were very much afraid among them was a brave boy, named Sombwa, who encouraged them and said, “Do not be afraid. I can command a house to build itself.”
They said, “please command it.”
He said, “House appear!” and it appeared, and also wood for a fire. Then the children entered the house and made a large fire, and began to roast some wild roots which they dug out of the ground.
While they were roasting the roots and were merry, there came a big cannibal, and they heard his voice saying, “Sombwa, give me some of the wild roots you have.”
They were afraid, and the brave boy said to the girls and to the other boys, “Give me some of yours.”
They gave some to him, and he threw the roots outside. While the cannibal was still eating, they went out and fled. He finished eating the roots, and then pursued them. When he approached, the children scattered more roots upon the ground, and while the cannibal was picking them up and eating, they again fled.
At length they came among mountains, where trees were growing. The girls were already very tired, so they all climbed up into a tall tree. The cannibal came there and tried to cut the tree down with his long sharp fingernail.
Then the brave boy said to the girls, “while I am singing you must continue saying, “Tree be strong, Tree be strong!”
He sang this song:
“It is foolish,
It is foolish to be a traveller,
And to go on a journey
With the blood of girls upon one!
While we were roasting wild roots
A great darkness fell upon us.
It was not darkness,
I was awful gloom!”
While he was singing, there came a great bird which hovered over them, and said, “Hold fast to me.”
The children held fast to he bird and it flew away with them, and took them to their own town.
Was midnight when it arrived there, and it sat down at the gate of Sombwa’s mother’s house.
In the morning, when that woman came out of her house, she took ashes and cast them upon the bird, for she said, “This bird knows where our children are.”
At midday the bird sent word to the chief, saying, “Command all your people to spread mats in all the paths.”
The chief commanded them to do so. Then the bird brought all the children out, and the people were greatly delighted.
HONEY-GUIDE and Capped Wheatear lived together in one place at first and ate out of one dish. Honey-Guide was the elder, Wheatear the younger. They set their minds on going to hunt for honey, and it happened when they arrived in the vicinity of the honey that Honey-Guide said, “Smile, Wheatear, when you see where the honey is.” Wheatear smiled, but he did not see the honey. When Honey-Guide smiled he had really seen it. That is what they did, and then they returned home leaving the honey behind, but Wheatear quietly disappeared and went off to steal the honey.
Next morning Honey-Guide said, “Let us go to our honey.” There they found a bit of bare honeycomb mangled and thrown about, so he asked Wheatear about it, and Wheatear replied, “My brother, I have seen neither it nor him who has stolen the honey. Since we came out yesterday nobody has come back here to demolish the honey in this way.” And once again Wheatear said to Honey-guide, “As for me, I could not eat any of this honey unless you had given it to me.”
So then Honey-Guide said no more, and they went out again looking for honey. Once more they found some honey. Honey-Guide say it before Wheatear did, and he tested Wheatear by saying, “Smile.” Wheatear said, “I cannot see the honey, smile yourself, my brother.” Honey-Guide: “No, child, smile.” So Wheatear smile and he saw the honey; then Honey-Guide asked him, “What do you see?”
Wheatear said, “It looks as if it might be flies fluttering before your eyes.”
Honey-guide said, “Haven’t you seen it?”
But Wheatear was deceiving him, for he saw the honey all the time. When Honey-Guide was about to smile, he saw the honey and said, “Let us cut down the tree to get it.”
Wheatear refused, saying, “No, as you said yesterday that I stole the honey, well, I am Wheatear! Let us bring some bird-lime and set a trap beside the honey, then if it be I who steal the honey you will catch me.”
“Good business,” replied Honey-Guide.
They went off to get some bird-lime from the human beings. Then when they arrived at their village, Honey-Guide said, “We will come tomorrow to set the trap.” But after a time Honey-Guide quietly disappeared and went off to set the bird-lime at the honey. Said Wheatear to himself, “Let me go quietly and eat the honey.” But the bird-lime was set already, although he did not notice it. When he thought of sitting down beside the honey, he sat on the bird-lime. Said he, “I will strike it with my wing,” but he stuck to it. And when he struck with his tail he stuck to it. When he wanted to draw back his right wing, it was stuck fast. He tried to strike it with his breast but he stuck. When he attempted to bite it with his beak, he bit the bird-lime. Then he simply died for lack of breath.
When Honey-Guide appeared on the scene, after he had looked for him at the village, he found him already dead. Then he mocked him, saying, “Wheatear, smile!” As he was dried up, he said that was the reward of thievery. “From today you will not steal any more. The chieftainship is mine over honey and to be extolled by the people! As for you, from today your portion shall be bird-lime already spread, and thus will you be killed by people.”
Now since they separated there on account of thievery, Wheatear belongs to bird-lime and Honey-Guide is still extolled. While he talked like this, Honey-Guide was standing upon the corpse of Wheatear. they became distinct in other directions, while their cry remained the same and, to this day, Wheatear’s portion is bird-lime and to be entrapped by men.
In the olden Days all cattle, sheep, and goats lived in the forests. Then, one day, Tarikhes called all the animals before him at a place in the jungle, and he lighted a large fire there. And when the animals saw the fire they were frightened and fled away back into the forests. There remained only cattle, sheep, and goats who were not frightened. And Tarikhes was pleased with these animals and bless them, and he decreed the henceforth they should always live with man and woman who would eat their flesh and drink their milk.
Mr. Tortoise, who was married to Mrs. Tortoise, Had in Vulture a friend who was constant in visiting him. But, having no wings, Tortoise was unable to return the visits, and this upset him. One day he bethought himself of his cunning ands aid to his wife, “Wife!’
Mrs. Tortoise answered, “Hello, husband! What is it?”
Said he, “don’t you see, wife, that we are becoming despicable in Vulture’s eyes?”
“How despicable?”
“Despicable, because it is despicable for me not to visit Vulture. He is always coming here and I have never yet been to his house – and he is my friend.”
Mrs. Tortoise replied, “I don’t see how Vulture should think us despicable unless we could fly as he does and then did not pay him a visit.”
But Mr. Tortoise persisted: “Nevertheless, wife, it is despicable.”
Said his wife, “Very well, then, sprout some wings and fly and visit your friend Vulture.”
Mr. Tortoise answered, “No, I shan’t sprout any wings because I was not born that way.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Tortoise, “what will you do?”
“I shall find a way,” he replied.
“Find it then, ” said Mrs Tortoise, “and let us see what you will do.”
Later Tortoise said to his wife, “Come and tie me up in a parcel with a lump of tobacco and, when Vulture arrives, give it to him and say it is tobacco and, when Vulture arrives, give it to him and say that it is tobacco to buy grain for us.” So Mrs. Tortoise took some palm leaf and made him into a parcel and put him down in the corner.
At his usual time, Vulture came to pay his visit and said, “Where’s your husband gone, Mrs. Tortoise?”
“My husband has gone some distance to visit some people, and he left hunger here. We have not a bit of grain in the house.”
Vulture said, “you are in trouble indeed, not having grain in the house.”
Vulture said, “you are in such trouble as human beings never knew.” And she went on: “Vulture, at your place is there no grain to be bought?”
“Yes,” said he, “any amount, Mrs. Tortoise.”
She brought the bundle and said, “My husband left this lump of tobacco thinking you would buy some grain with it for us and bring it here.”
Vulture willingly took it returned to his home in the heights. As he was nearing his native town he was surprised to here a voice saying, “Untie me, I am your friend Tortoise. I said I would pay a visit to you.”
But Vulture, in his surprise, let go his hold of the bundle and down crashed Tortoise to the earth, Pididi-pididi, his shell smashed to bits, and he died. And so the friendship between Tortoise and culture was broken: and you can still see the cracks in Tortoise’s shell.
They say that once a great hunger came, and that Kwaku Ananse, the spider, said he would go and search for meat and vegetable food and bring it that his wife Aso might eat. He went into a certain stream and there he met certain people. Now these people whom he met, excuse my saying so, were spirits. When Ananse met the spirits, they were standing in the water and splashing the stream-bed dry to catch the fish. Kwaku Ananse said, “Brothers, may I come and splash a little too?”
The spirits said “Come.”
Ananse went, and he saw that they were using their skulls to splash the stream dry. The spirits said to Ananse, “You have seen that which we take to splash the stream dry. Will you allow us to remove your skull in order that you may splash too?” Ananse said, “I will permit you, take it off for me.”
Of a truth, the spirits removed it and gave it to him. Kwaku Ananse and the spirits joined together in splashing the bed of the stream dry. As they splashed, the spirits raised a song:
“We, the spider, when we splash the river-bed
dry to catch fish, we use our heads to splash the water.
O spirits, we are splashing the water.”
Since the Creator made things,
do we take our heads to splash the water?
O the spirits, we are splashing the water.
I take my head to splash the water dry today O,
O the spirits, we are splashing the water.”
Ananse finished singing, and the spirits told him, saying, “We have splashed, we have got fish, your share is a basketful. Take it and go and eat. Take your skull, join it on your body, and go off. But what we have to say most particularly is this – the very day you sing any of that song, your skull will open and fall off.”
The spider said, “Fish in abundance, which you have given to me, is all that I desire, and as for a song – for what reason should I sing it?”
The spirits said, “That is well, go off.”
So the spider set off. The spirits, too, got everything together and they, also, went away. When the spirits had reached yonder, as it were, then they raised their song:
“We, the spirits, when we splash the river-bed dry
to catch fish, we use our heads to splash the water.
O the spirits, we are splashing the water.”
And the spider heard the song and he, too, took it up:
“Since the Creator made things
Have we taken our heads to splash the water?
O the spirits, we are splashing the water.”
No sooner had he finished than his skull opened and dropped off. Ananse lifted it up and held it against his chest. He said, “spirits, spirits, my head has fallen off.”
The spirits heard, and they said “That’s the spider. He hasn’t listened to what we told him, and he is calling us. Let us all go back and hear him.”
Almost immediately, Spider came hastening along. He said, “Puo! Children of my father! My head has opened and fallen off, so I beg of you, if I have done you any harm, forgive it. You are in the right, but take my head and put it in its place for me.”
The spirits took it, and replaced it. They said to him, “Now, if you sing this song again and your head falls off again, we shall not answer when you call us. So get along with you!” The spirits set off again.
As they were going they sang their song. Then Ananse began to sing again, and his head became detached and fell off, kutukum! And he lifted it and, excuse my vulgarity, clapped it against his anus, and leaped to the side of the path. Sora! was the sound of the grass parting as he entered it. He said, “Path, save me! When the day dawns that I am rich, I shall give you some.”
That is why you will see Ananse with a small head and a very big bottom. It all comes from the hardness of his ears.
They say that there once was a certain woman who was so unfortunate that whenever she gave birth to a child it died. So she set out to consult one of the lessor-gods about it and to tell him that she desired a child. The lesser-god said, “I shall give you one, but as for the child, all the work he will ever do will be to get you into debt, but nevertheless, some day he will repay you.”
It was not two days, it was not three days after consulting the lessor-god, when the woman conceived. She gave birth to a child – a spider-story child it was, for it was not long in growing up. The infant grew into a comely youth. One day he was with his mother and he said, “Mother, give me gold dust that I may go to the Edge-of-the-Sea-Country and buy salt.”
The mother said, “How much do you want?”
He said, “An asuanu.” And the mother took it and gave to him, and he set out on the journey.
Now, as he was going, he met a certain man and his spotted dog. He said, “bring it that I may buy it.”
The dog’s master said, “You cannot buy it.”
The youth said, “How much is it?”
The dog’s master replied, “An asuanu’s weight of gold dust.”
The youth said, “What’s that to me! Take this asuanu.” He received the dog and brought it back home.
When he returned, his mother said, “Why did you not reach your destination?”
He replied, “I used the gold dust to buy a dog.”
His mother said, “Ho!”
Now they were living there, it would be for about one moon, when the youth said, “Mother, give me gold dust that I may go trading.”
She said, “As for you, as is your wont, you will only take the gold dust and throw it away again, but how much do you want?”
He replied, “An asuanu-and-suru’s worth of gold dust.”
She said, “Take it, then.” So he set out along the trade road.
As he was going along, he met a certain man carrying a cat. He said, “Man, bring that animal that always falls on its feet, that I may buy it.”
The man said, “When I lie down in my room, the mice gnaw my feet; for that reason I bought it.”
He said, “I beseech you, ; let me have it.”
The man said, “You cannot buy it.”
The youth asked, “How much will you take for it?”
The man then replied, “An asuanu-and-suru’s worth of gold dust.”
The boy said, “So that’s why you say I cannot buy it! Here, take it.” The boy received the cat and went off home with it.
When he reached home, he said, “Mother, look here at what I have brought.”
She replied, “Ah, that is just what they said would happen.” The child remained there at home.
It would be about forty days later when the son again addressed his mother, saying, “Give me gold dust that I may go trading.”
The mother said, “All the money I have about me is finished with the exception of an asuasa’s weight of gold dust. If I give you this, and you go, and you do not buy goods with it, that’s the end of this business.”
The boy said, “I have heard.”
The next morning, when things became visible, the youth took up his bag and was off, pa! As he was going, he met a certain Ashanti fellow who was carrying a pigeon. He said, “Friend, bring that creature of yours that I may buy it.”
The Ashanti replied, “I am not selling it, for I amuse myself with it.”
The youth said, “I shall buy it.”
The bird’s master said, “I will not sell it, for I know what it may do for me.”
The boy said, “Oh, give it to me.”
He said, “Will you be able to buy it?”
The boy said, “How much?”
He replied, “An asuasa’s weight of gold dust.”
He said, “Do you suppose because of that I would not buy it?” Here is the sum.”
The boy brought the bird home. His mother said, “This has turned out no better than before. So this is what you have brought?” He replied, “Nevertheless, this is what I have brought.”
Now one day the boy was living there at home, when the pigeon called to him, saying, “Come.” When he went up to it, the pigeon informed him, saying, “In my own village I am chief, and I was about to go on a journey when a certain fellow came and seized hold of me. Then you, out of your kindness, bought me, and now I beseech you, if you will only take me back to my town, the people will take you greatly.”
The boy said, “You are telling me lies. You will run away. “
The pigeon said, “If you can’t see your way to do as I ask, then take a string and tie it to my leg, and take me along.
The boy took a string and fastened it to the pigeon’s leg, and it followed slowly behind him until they arrived at the pigeon’s town. When they reached the outskirts of the town, the children were playing nte marbles. As soon as they saw the bird they said, “Here is the chief! Here is the chief!” one of the children ran to tell the Korenti chief, but they seized him and cut his throat, saying, “You are causing us to call to mind our late sorrow.” But another one went again with the same tidings.
And now the Akwamu chief said, “You, Gyase chief, do you yourself go and see what this is all about.”
He went and looked, and returned. He said, “Oh, it is true!” Then they got a hammock and the regalia and went to bring the chief to his house. The whole tribe was told the news – how he was setting out on a journey, and how a certain fellow had caught him, and how this youth by his kindness had bought him, and how today he had brought him home.
Elders and young people all rose up and thanked the youth. The queen mother brought a water-pot full of gold dust, and all of the elders also each gave a water-pot full of gold dust. The chief himself looked on his hand and slipped off a ring and gave it to the youth. And he said, “Take this ring, and whatever you desire this ring will give you.”
He said, “I have heard.” And he went off with the ring to his village, and he showed the gold dust and the ring to his mother.
Then the mother said, Welcome Aku, welcome Aku!”
Formerly, when the boy, having burned up his gold dust and returned from his journeys, would salute his mother, she used not to answer him. And he gave his mother the news, saying, “You have seen this gold dust and this ring; I shall go and build a great village for us to live in.”
The mother said, “Press your eyes hard; try your best to do so.”
The youth set out and went and stood in the bush. He slipped off the ring and placed it on the ground and said, “Ring, clear all this land of forest and of bush for me.” And the whole of the place became cleared. He said, “Collect all which you have cleared into heaps for burning.” And it did so. He said, “Set up houses.” And it set up many houses. He said, “Ring, let people come and inhabit these houses.” And people came.
The youth made his mother the queen mother and he became chief.
Now, Ananse, the spider, was his best friend. One day, when he was living there in his new home, Kwaku Ananse set out to come to this youth’s village. When he reached it, he said, “Oh, little mother’s child, little father’s child, you have been fortunate and successful and you don’t care any more about me or to look after me. But what has happened to bring all this about?”
Then the youth told him all the news. The spider replied, “I shall go to my village to get something and return.”
Ananse went off to his village. He said to his niece, “I shall send you to my friend yonder, and when you go you will take this white wine for him, and pay attention and do whatever he orders, and you must try secretly to lay your hands on that ring.”
The girl set out and went to the youth’s village. The youth said to her, “As for this, I shall see to it that you do not go back again, for you must stay with me three days before you return..”
The girl said, “I have heard.”
Now he and the girl were there together, and the youth went to bathe.
He slipped off the ring and placed it on a table, and the girl took it and went off with it to her uncle, Kwaku Ananse. As soon a Ananse laid his hands upon it, he made use of the ring to build a big town.
Now, the youth, when he came to look for his ring, could not find it. He came to hear that the spider had built a big town which was greater than his own. Then he went off to consult one of the lesser-gods yonder. The lesser-god told him, “Ananse’s niece who came there to you has taken your ring and gone and given it to her uncle.” The spider also went to consult the lesser-god, and it was revealed to him that Okra, the cat, and Okraman, the dog, would be sent to recover the ring. Therefore he went and got medicine with which to treat the meat he was going to place on the path, so that when the animals who were walking there took some to eat, they would be unable again to go anywhere at all.
The youth who had lost his ring came home and told the cat and the dog: “The time has now come for me to tell you the reason I bought you, and it is this: something belonging to me has been lost, and they say it is in the possession of the spider, but that it lies in a box which is in the middle of all the rest of his boxes. They say he has taken medicine and mixed it with that flesh of the sheep and placed it on the path. So when you reach there, don’t eat it but jump over it.”
The dog said, “Cat, have you heard? You are the one who will chew it.”
The cat said, “Oh, go along, you who every little while take your nose to sniff and sniff!”
Then they began to talk a lot, and their master said, “That’s all right, be off.”
The two animals set out and were going along the path. Now there remained only a short time for them to reach the place where the meat was, when the dog detected the smell of it. He said, “Cat, I have a pain in my stomach and I cannot go on.”
The cat said, “Come, come! Let us go on, the business in hand is important.”
The dog said, “Cat, I am unable.”
The cat on alone. The dog then went to where the meat was, and he chewed up the whole of the meat. There he lay! He was unable to go on any more. And the cat reached Ananse’s village, and lay down in Ananse’s sleeping -room, on the ceiling above the room. As he lay there, he saw a mouse passing. Squeak! as he landed on its head. The mouse said, “Don’t catch me, what is the matter?”
The cat replied, “My master’s ring has been lost and they say it lies in Ananse’s box, which stands in the middle of all the rest of his boxes. If you are able to go and bring it to me, then I shall let you go.”
The mouse said, “I am able.”
The cat said, “Suppose I let you go, and you go off and don’t bring it but run away?”
The mouse said, “If you wish, fasten a string around my waist.”
The cat took a string and tied it around the mouse’s waist. Then the mouse went off into the spider’s room and gnawed a hole in the box which stood in the middle of all the rest. Little by little he made an opening, and soon it become large. He passed through it to go and get the ring to take to the cat. No sooner did the cat lay his hands upon it, than he ran off and came across the dog. He was lying just where the cat had left him. The cat said, “You are still lying here! And where is that meat?”
The dog said, “Oh, I did not see what became of it. Perhaps the people to whom it belonged came and removed it. But where is this ring?” The cat said, “here it is.” The dog said, “They say that the river which lies in the path is in flood, and as you, Cat, walk on the bottom when you cross water, it might be that the ring would fall down, so give it to me, for as for me, you know, I pass on the surface of the water.”
The cat said, “That’s so; you take it.”
They reached the river, and the dog jumped in – so did the cat. At once the cat crossed over. The dog reached the centre of the stream and became tired and, as he was about to take a deep breath, the ring fell out if his mouth into the water. He crossed over and came to where the cat was.
The cat said, “Where is that ring?” He said. “It fell out of my mouth into the water.” The cat ran and entered the water; he saw a great fish passing. The cat caught it. The fish said, “What is it?”
He said, “My ring has just fallen into this river, so unless you want trouble, give me what belongs to me at once. If you don’t give it to me I shall kill you immediately.”
The fish said, “Let us go to the river bank that I may give you what belongs to you.”
The fish said, “Let us go to the river bank that I may give you what belongs to you.”
When they both reached the bank, the fish vomited and the ring came out.
The cat took it and came and showed it to the dog. The dog said, “Father, I beg of you, when you go, don’t speak about what has happened.” The cat remained silent. They reached home and the cat told his master all that had happened, saying, “Because of the meat which the dog chewed as we were going along, he became unable to go farther. And again, when I had gone and got the ring and brought it back, the dog said to me, as he crossed a river on its surface, that I must hand over the ring to him. I gave it to him, and he threw it away in the river. It was only after a little while that I laid my hands on it again.”
All the people who were present said, “You, Cat, whatever kind of food I am eating, I will see to it that I break some and place in your little dish. Whatever mat I sleep upon, I shall only lie upon it provided you lie on some of it. As for you, Dog, you will only lie on the smoldering embers of the dead fire when the chilly might comes. Only with floggings, the folk will flog you.”
That is why you will always see the cat sleeping nowhere but on the best mat; also, if you cast come food down on the ground for him, he will not eat it unless it is on a plate. But as for the dog – we shall always see him sleeping in the courtyard on the dead ashes of the day’s fire; also you will see him there being beaten, he will yelp “Kao!”
It is all because of the time when the cat and the dog were sent on this business of the ring.
Hare, that will trickster, went to live with Grey antelope. One day he said to her, “suppose we go and till our fields and plant some bean!” So off they went and set to work. Antelope stole Hare’s beans, and Hare stole Antelope’s beans, but did most of the stealing.
Hare set a trap in his field, and Antelope was caught by the leg. In the early morning the cunning rascal went out and found Antelope caught in the trap. “Don’t you think you deserve to be killed,” said he, “now that I have found you out?”
“No! No!” she cried. “Let me go, and we will go back to my house where I will give you a hoe.” So he let her go, and she gave him the hoe.
Hare then packed his beans, harvested all his fields, and made ready to be off. Good-bye,” he said to Antelope, “I won’t stay with you any longer. You are a thief!”
Hare soon came across the great lizard, Varan, lying at the edge of a water-hole. It was the chief’s water-hole, where they drew their water, and he had been placed there on guard to find out who it was that was continually disturbing it and making it muddy. “What are you doing here?” said Hare.
“I am watching this hole to see who it is that muddies the chief’s water.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said Hare, “we had much better go and till a field together.”
“How can I dig?” said Varan. “I can’t stand on my hind legs and hold the hoe in my forepaws.”
“That doesn’t matter! Just come long. I will tie the hoe to your tail and you will be able to dig beautifully.”
So the hoe was tied on, but when this was done Varan could not move. Then Hare ran back to the hole, drank his fill of water, and finished by stirring it up well, making it as muddy as possible. After this he walked all over Varan’s fields and regaled himself on his groundnuts. In the heat of the day he came back and said, “Ho! An army has passed through the country. I hear that the warriors have dirtied the water in the hole. I hear, too, that they have ravaged all your crop of groundnuts!”
“Untie me!” said Varan. “I can’t budge.”
“All right, but only on condition that you don’t go and accuse me, Hare, of having stirred up the water.”
“But who told you this story about those soldiers who did all the mischief?”
“Don’t ask me so many questions. If you do, I won’t untie you!”
“Very well! I’ll be quiet, but take away this hoe. It hurts me!”
“Listen! First of all, I’ll go and draw some water for you. You must be thirsty.”
“No, I’m not thirsty. Only let me go!’
“If you are not thirsty, all right! I won’t untie the hoe.”
“Oh, very well, I am thirsty. Hurry up, and come back as fast as you can.”
Hare went to Varan’s village, took the wooden goblet from which he always drank, drew some water, and once again stirred up the hole. He took a drink to Varan, and said to him, “If anyone asks you whether I have disturbed the water, you must say that you did it. If you don’t promise me this, I won’t untie you.”
“All right. Very well.”
Then Hare ran to call the chiefs – Lord Elephant, Lord Lion, and the rest. They all came and asked Varan, “Who has been drawing our water and making it muddy?”
“It is I, said Varan.
And Hare, the rascal, added, “Yes, I found him committing this crime and I tied him up to a hoe, so that he couldn’t run away.”
The chiefs congratulated Hare. “Ah! you have been very clever! You have discovered the villain who has been muddying our pool!” And they immediately killed Varan.
The wily trickster, Hare, took the hoe and then went to look for Grey Antelope. She was on sentry duty, on the edge of a pool, for guards were placed at all the pools to prevent anyone from approaching, as the water still continued to be muddied during the night. Hare, not being able to get anything to drink, said to antelope, “What are you doing there so close to the water?”
“I am guarding the chief’s pool.”
“You will get thin and die of hunger, if you stay like that at the edge of the pools. Listen! You would do much better to come with me and till a field. Then, in time of famine, you would have something to eat.”
“Let us go!” said Antelope.
Hare set to work in grand style. He gave Antelope a hoe and told her to dig. “I can’t get on my hind legs,” said she, “and hold the hoe with my forelegs.”
“Let me have a look at your forelegs. I’ll tie the hoe to them, and you will be able to did all right.”
Antelope tried, but she couldn’t do it.
“Never mind,” said Hare. “Wait a minute.” He ran back to the pool, quenched his thirst, and muddied the water. Then he filled a calabash and hid it in the bush. On returning to Antelope, he said, “Hello! Haven’t you done any hoeing yet?”
“No, I can’t manage it.”
“Would you believe it! An Army has passed by, and they have stirred up the pool.”
“No!” Truly? Untie me, Hare!”
“I won’t untie you unless you swear that what I said is true.”
“Very well! Untie me.”
Off Hare went to get the calabash to give her a drink, and made her promise to confess that it was she who had disturbed the water. Then he called the chiefs, who killed Antelope.
But there was one creature that outdid Hare in cunning and that was Tortoise. She mounted guard at the pond. Hare arrived there. “You will die of hunger, if you stay at the edge of the pool with nothing to do. We had much better go and till a field together.”
“How can I hoe with short legs?” asked Tortoise.
“Oh! That will be all right. I’ll show you how to do it.”
“Eh! No. thank you! I think not!”
“Well then! Let’s go and help ourselves to some of the wild boar’s sweet potatoes.”
“No,” said Tortoise uncompromisingly, “No pilfering!”
However, before very long Tortoise began to feel hungry, so much so that, when Hare again proposed a marauding expedition, she overcame her scruples and they went off together to root up the sweet potatoes. Then they lighted a fire of grass in the bush and roasted them.
“Tortoise,” said Hare, “just go and see if the owners of these fields are anywhere about, as we must not let then catch us.”
“Yes, but let us both go. You go one way and I’ll go the other.”
Off went Hare, but Tortoise, instead of following his example, stayed behind and crawled into Hare’s sack. Hare soon came back, filled up his bag with sweet potatoes, threw it over his back, and ran away to escape the proprietors, shouting at the top of his voice, “Hi, Tortoise! Look out! They will catch you! I’m off! Fly”
He ran as hard as he could to escape capture. Tortoise, inside the sack, ate the sweet potatoes. She picked out all the best ones and finished the lot. She said, being satisfied, “Kutlu.” After a while Hare was tired out and lay down quite exhausted. He felt the oangs of hunger.
“Aha! Said he to himself. “I will have a good feed!” He sat down in a shady spot, opened his sack, out his hand inside, and pulled out one very small sweet potato. “This is much too small for me,” said he, and putting his hand in again, felt a nice big one. “Oho! here’s a beauty! When he had pulled it out of his bag, what was his surprise to find that his potato turned out to be Mistress Tortoise!
“Hello! Why! It’s you!” he cried in disgust and threw her on the ground. She scuttled away as fast as she could. Then Hare began to wail, “When I think that I have been carrying her all this time!” He felt very crestfallen.
Continuing his travels. Hare next met King Lion, surrounded by his courtiers. He at once asked permission to swear allegiance to the king and to settle in that country. But every day he went out to steal other folk’s groundnuts. When the owners of the fields came to look at their crops, they exclaimed, “Who can it be that digs up our groundnuts?”
Hare went off to find King Lion, and said to him, “Sire, your subjects are not what they should be, for they are in the habit of stealing.”
“Indeed!” said Lion. “Go and keep watch, and if you discover anyone stealing, catch him.”
Hare went off to take up his position in the fields, but Lion followed him and surprised him in the very act of feasting on groundnuts. “Ha! Ha! You tell me that my subjects are not honest folk, while it is you who do the thieving!”
“Not at all! I was only keeping a look out! Come here, and I will show you the footprints of your subjects, for I know them well!”
So they went to a large shady banyan tree. Hare made a strong string of one of the long tendrils and said to Lion, “As you think I don’t speak the truth, just sit down here and you will soon see the thieves passing by. I shall while away the time by making you a crown of wax.”
“All right,” said Lion, “make me a crown.”
Hare began by parting Lion’s mane down the middle and arranging the hairs carefully, one by one, on either side of his neck, as if he were preparing a spot on the top of his head for a crown. Then he made holes through the bark of the tree, on both sides of the trunk, and passed the hairs of the mane right through them, some on one side, some on the other. This done, he tied all the hairs securely together at the back of the tree with the string he had made, and he said to Lion, “I’ve finished the job. Jump up quickly and you will see one of your subjects stealing in the fields!’
Lion tried to jump up. He couldn’t! He had half killed himself struggling to get to his feet!
Hare ran to the village. “Come,” he shouted, “And see who it is who ravages your fields! He had previously torn up a lot of groundnut leaves and thrown them down close to the Lion. The villagers hurried to the spot.
“There! Don’t you see him?” Haven’t I found him out, eh?” Lion didn’t dare to say a single word.
Then his subjects cut great staves and beat him to death. “Ah! Hare, You are very clever, and we are grateful!” they said.
Hare cut Lion up into pieces. Then he took the skin and wrapped himself in it. Thus disguised, he went to Lion’s village and entered the queen’s hut. He said, “I am not well,” and shut himself up, refusing to see anyone. he gave orders to servants to kill an ox because he was ill. Then he had a second one slaughtered, then a third.
The women said to him, “Are you going to move to another place, since you are killing all your oxen?”
“No,” said Hare, “I have no intention of moving any more. I am killing them because I know very well that I shall never get over this illness.” So he had a general slaughtering of all Lion’s oxen, goats, and sheep, to the very last head of cattle. When all were killed, he said to the queen, “Haven’t you got my money in your keeping?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Well, bring it all out and put it together with my royal mat and all my valuables on the village square.”
The lion’s skin had now acquired a rather loathsome odor, the flies were settling upon it in swams, and Hare was by no means comfortable inside of it.
“What sort of complaint have you got?” asked the queen. “It is something that smells very nasty.”
“Oh! I have only got some sores. I must go and find a doctor. Good-by, I shall start at once.”
Lion’s wife replied, “Then I will go with you, my husband.”
“No,” said he, “No occasion for that, for I know exactly where I must go.”
He went out to the square, picked up the mat in which all the money and valuables had been packed, and then, throwing off the lion’s skin, he tore away as fast as his legs could carry him with all the village in pursuit.
Hare came to a burrow, and in he ran. The pursuers got a hooked stick to pull him out. They tried to hook him and managed to get hold of his leg. “Oh, pull away!” cried he. “Pull away! You’ve only got hold of the root of a tree!”
So they left off pulling. They tried again, and this time they really hooked a root.
“Hi! hi!” he yelled. “Hi! hi! Take care! You’re hurting me! You’re killing me! Ow! Ow!”
They pulled as hard as they could, and they pulled and pulled until the hook broke and they fell over backward. They said, “Qaa.” Finally they were tired out and said, “Oh! Let us give it up and leave him where he is!” So they stopped up the burrow with a bunch of grass and went away.
The south wind no sprang up and blew the grass deeper into the burrow.
“I am done for,” said Hare to himself, as he fancied they were succeeding in getting nearer to him. He was suffering the pangs of hunger and was terribly thirsty, but not dare to leave the burrow, supposing his enemies to be close at hand. At length he cried out, “Have pity on me and let me go, my good fathers, I beseech you!” He crept cautiously toward the entrance of the burrow, and found only a bunch of grass. Then he made off at once, leaving all his treasures behind him, not even giving them a single thought.
He ran on and on. He became thin and ill. He ate grass, but it did not remain in his insides; it passed through him immediately. He came to the home of Grey Antelope. “Say, Antelope, suppose we sew one another up! You stitch me up, but not completely, you know! It will keep the grass much longer in our insides when we browse, and we shall get much more nourishment out of it.” Antelope consented, and partially stitched up Hare. Hare sewed her up entirely. Antelope swelled and died. Fortunately for her, however, she fell in a field belonging to a woman who picked her up, put her in her basket on the top of her head, and carried her to the village to be eaten. She gave her to her husband to cut up. He set to work and began by cutting the stitches that Hare had sewn. All that was in Antelope’s interior at once came out, she jumped to her legs, and galloped away.
She met Hare, and she said to him, “All right! I’ve found you out now! Never again do I call you my friend!”
Hare, being thirsty, was looking for a pool but could not find one. At last he came to one where no one was on guard. Tortoise was really in charge, but she was in the water. Hare walked in. “What luck! How nice and cool it is!” said he, quenching his thirst and swimming about. Tortoise snapped at one of his legs, then at another.
“Hello! Let me go! I’ll promise you a goat if you will let go!”
They came out of the pond together, and Hare said to her, “Come along to my house, and get your goat.” They reached his home, but no goat! Nothing! Hare did not give her anything. Then he remembered the money that he had left in the burrow and said, “Let us go and see chameleon. He has my valuables, for he borrowed a lot of money from me. I’ll just run round and fetch my brother; he knows all about the business and will be my witness.” Having said this, Hare ran off. Tortoise arrived at Chameleon’s abode and said, “Give me Hare’s money which he says you have!”
“What! I haven’t anything belonging to Hare!” Whereupon Chameleon blew into Tortoise’s eyes. She swelled, and died.
THE HARE ONCE MET the hyena and proposed that they should go for a walk. They went for a walk together and then separated, after which the hare went to the lioness’s cave and found it closed. She cried out, “Stone, open,” and the stone rolled away from the mouth of the cave. She entered and said, “Stone close,” and the stone returned to its place. She then proceeded to the room where the lioness stored her fat, after which she went to the room where the meat was kept, and having had enough to eat, she returned to the entrance, told the stone to open, and when she had passed out, to close once more.
Feeling hungry again later she returned to the cave. On the road she met the hyena, who asked her where she came from and why her mouth was oily. The hare denied that her mouth was oily, but as the hyena persisted in his statement, she told him to rub ashes on his mouth and it would become as beautiful as hers. The hyena did as he was recommended, but no change took place in his appearance. The hare next suggested washing it with water and afterwards with urine; but although the hyena tried both, his mouth remained as dry as before. The hyena said, “Please tell me where you go and feed.” At first the hare refused to comply with his request and said, “You are so foolish whenever you go anywhere and are sure to be caught.” But as the hyena would take no refusal, she consented to allow him to accompany her and told him about the lioness’s cave. “There are,” she said, “five rooms. In the first the ashes are kept; in the next, the bones; in the third, the tough meat; in the fourth, the tender meat; and in the last, the fat.” The hyena cried, “Get out of the way, take me there,” and off they started.
When they arrived at the cave, the hare told the hyena that when he wanted the cave to open he must say, “Stone, open,” and when he wanted it to shut, “Stone, close.” The hyena cried out, “Stone, open,” and the stone rolled aside. When they were inside, the hare said, “Stone, close,” and it closed again.
The hyena at once started on the ashes, while the hare went to the room where the fat was kept. When the latter had had enough to eat, she returned to the entrance and said she was going away. The hyena remonstrated with her as he was not nearly satisfied. After telling him how to get out of the cave, the hare went up to the stone and said, “Stone, open,” and again, when she was outside, “Stone, close.”
When the hyena was alone, he went to the place where the bones were kept, after which he proceeded to the next room, where the tough meat was stored, and ate until he was satisfied. He then returned to the entrance and said to the stone, “Stone, close,” instead of “Stone, open.” He repeated the words “Stone, close,” several times and could not understand why nothing happened.
At this point the lioness, the owner of the cave, returned and said, “Stone, open.” When the hyena heard, he cried, “Ah! Woe is me! That is what I wanted to say. Poor fellow that I am! Stone, open! Stone, open!”
The lioness entered and said, “shall I eat you, or shall I make you my servant?”
Then Hyena asked to be made her servant and was told to look after the lioness’s cub. He was also given a bone and instructed to break it when the lioness had crossed four rivers. The hyena counted the lioness’s footsteps and, when he calculated that she had crossed the four rivers, broke the bone. A chip flew, fracturing the cub’s skull. Fearing that the lioness would kill him on her return, he searched for some hornets and stuffed one up each of the cub’s nostrils so that it might be supposed that it had been stung to death.
The lioness returned to her cave a short while afterwards and called to the hyena to bring her cub. The hyena told lies for some time and invented several excuses for not doing as he was told, but the lioness was firm, and the hyena had to pick up the cub and bring it to its mother. The lioness at once saw that it was dead and told the hyena to take it outside. While he was doing this, he ate one of the cub’s legs.
A little later he was again ordered to bring the cub to its mother and then to take it away once more. He devoured another leg while carrying it away, and when the lioness called out to him a third time to bring the cub to her, he said the birds had eaten two of its legs. He then ate up the cub.
The lioness intended to punish the hyena for his misdeeds, and after tying him to a tree, went to get some sticks with which to beat him. As he was standing there, bound to the tree, some other hyenas bent on a raiding expedition passed close by, and one of them, seeing him, asked him why he had been tied up in this manner. He replied that he was being punished for having refused to drink some oil which had flies in it. The other hyena suggested that they should exchange places and, after untying the knots, he allowed himself to be bound to the tree instead, while the first hyena followed in the wake of the raiding party.
After a time the lioness returned, and commenced to flog the hyena, who cried out, “Stop! I will drink it now.”
“Drink what?” said the lioness, and she commenced to flog him again.
“Oh! Oh!” the hyena cried, “I will drink the oil with the flies in it.”
The lioness then saw that this was not the hyena that had killed her cub.
The next morning the hyenas on their way back from their raid passed the cave, and the one who had killed the cub saw on the ground some strips of bark, which the lioness had spread out in the sun to resemble meat. “I will go to my mistress’s kraal,” quoth he, “For I see there has been a kill.” On reaching the spot, however, he was seized by the lioness, who bound him to the tree once more and then beat him to death.
After this the lioness returned to her cave and said, “Stone, open.” When the stone had rolled aside and she had entered, she said, “Stone, close,” and it closed again.
Many years ago there was a great famine throughout the land and all the people were starving. The yam crop had failed entirely, the plantains did not bear any fruit, and the corn never came to a head; even the palm-oil nuts did not ripen, and the peppers and okras also failed.
The leopard, who lived entirely on meat, did not care for any of these things, and although some of the animals who lived on corn and the growing crops began to get rather skinny, he did not really mind very much.
However, in order to save himself trouble, since everybody was complaining of the famine, the leopard called a meeting of all the animals. He told them that, as they all knew, he was very powerful and must have food, that the famine did not affect him, as he lived only on flesh, and that as there were plenty of animals about, he did not intend to starve. He then told all thew animals present at the meeting that, if they themselves did not wish to be killed, they must bring their grandmothers to him for food, and that when the grandmothers were finished, he would feed off their mothers. The animals might bring their grandmothers in succession, and he would take them in turn, so that, as there were many different animals, it would probably be some time before their mothers were eaten. By that time it was possible that the famine would be over. But, in any case, the leopard warned them that he was determined to have sufficient food for himself and that, if the grandmothers or mothers were not forthcoming, he would turn upon the young people themselves and kill and eat them. For this, of course, the young generation, who had attended the meeting, had little liking, and in order to save their own skins why agreed to supply the leopard with his daily meal.
The first to appear with his aged grandmother was the squirrel. The grandmother was a poor decrepit old thing with a mangy tail, and the leopard swallowed her at one gulp and then looked round for more. In an angry voice he growled out, “This is not the proper food for me; I must have more at once.”
Then a bush cat pushed his old grandmother in front of the leopard, but he snarled at her and said, “Take the nasty old thing away; I want some sweet food.”
It was then the turn of a bush buck and, after a great deal of hesitation, a wretchedly poor and thin old doe tottered and fell in front of the leopard, who immediately dispatched her and, although the meal was very unsatisfactory, declared that his appetite was appeased for that day.
The next day a few more animals brought their old grandmothers, until at last it became the turn of the tortoise; but, being very cunning, he produced witnesses to prove that his grandmother was dead, and so the leopard excused him.
After a few days all the animals’ grandmothers were exhausted, and it was necessary that the mothers be sacrificed to supply food for the ravenous leopard. Now, although most of the young animals did not mind getting rid of their grandmothers, whom they had scarcely even known, many of them had very strong objections to providing their mothers, of whom they were very fond , as food for the leopard. Among the strongest objectors were the squirrel and the tortoise. The tortoise had thought the whole thing out. As everyone knew that his mother was alive, she being rather an amiable old person and friendly with all, he was aware that the same excuse would not avail him a second time. He therefore told his mother to climb up a palm tree, and he would provide her with food until the famine was over. He instructed her to let down a basket every day and said that he would place food in it for her. The tortoise made the basket for his mother and attached it to a long string of tie-tie. The string was so strong that she could haul her son up when ever he wished to visit her.
All went well for some days, as the tortoise used to go at daybreak to the bottm of the tree where his mother lived and place her food in the basket. Then the old lady would pull the basket up and have her food, and the tortoise would depart on his daily round in his usual leisurely manner.
In the meantime, the leopard had to have his daily food. The squirrel’s turn came first, after the grandmothers had finished, and as he was poor, weak thing and not possed of any cunning, he was forced to produce his mother for the leopard to eat. The squirrel was, however, very fond of his mother, and after she had been eaten he remembered that the tortoise had not produced his grandmother or his mother for the leopard’s food. He therefore determined to set a watch on the movements of the tortoise.
The very next morning, while he was gathering nuts, the squirrel saw the tortoise walking very slowly through the bush and, being high up in the trees and able to travel very fast, he had no difficulty in keeping the tortoise in sight without being noticed. When the tortoise arrived at the foot of the tree where his mother lived, he placed the food in the basket which his mother had already let down by the tie-tie and, having got into the basket and given a pull at the string to signify that everything was right, was hauled up and after a time was let down again in the basket. The squirrel was watching all the time and, as soon as the tortoise had gone, he jumped from branch to branch to branch of the trees and very soon arrived at the place where the leopard was napping.
When the leopard woke up, the squirrel said, “You have eaten my grandmother and my mother, but the tortoise has not provided any food for you. It is now his turn, and he has hidden his mother away in a tree.”
Hearing this, the leopard was very angry and told the squirrel to lead him at once to the tree where the tortoise’s mother lived.
But the squirrel said, “The tortoise only goes at daybreak when his mother lets down a basket; so if you go early in the morning, she will pull you up, and you can then kill her.”
To this the leopard agreed, and the next morning the squirrel came at cockcrow and led the leopard to the tree where the tortoise’s mother was hidden. The old lady had already let down the basket for her daily supply of food. The leopard got into it and gave the line a pull, but except for a few small jerks nothing happened. as the old mother tortoise was not strong enough to pull a heavy leopard off the ground. When the leopard saw that he was not going to be pulled up, being an expert climber, he scrambled up the tree. When he got to the top he found the poor old tortoise whose shell was so tough that he thought she was not worth eating, so in a violent temper he threw her down on the ground and then came down himself and went home.
Shortly after this, the tortoise arrived at the tree and, finding the basket on the ground, gave his usual tug at it but there was no answer. He then looked about and after a little while came upon the broken shell of his poor old mother who by this time was quite dead. The tortoise knew at once that the leopard had killed his mother and made up his mind that for the future he would live alone and have nothing to do with the other animals.
