THERE WAS ONCE a virgin named Kwaboaso. To whomever they gave to marry she said, “I do not desire him.” They gave her to a hunter, and she said, “Ugh! This man has ticks on him; I do not want him.”

One day she went off to the plantation, saying she was going to cut plantains. She took a knife and struck at the pantain, when behold, the little folk were sitting on the plantains. They descended aand came and caught Kwahoaso. They said, “You are the one who shakes your head, pusu! pusu! when they take you to give to anyone.” And the fairies caught hold of her and said:

“Come let us squeeze her.

We squeeze her, O!

We squeeze Kwaboaso.

Come, Let us squeeze her.

We squeeze her, O!”

Now, when the hunter to whom they had given Kwaboaso heard Kwaboaso’s voice, he said, “I am going to see what is the matter, for we don’t take something bad to repay something bad.” When he arrived, there was Kwaboaso and the fairies squeezing her. Then the hunter fired a gun at the fairies, and one fell down.

The eldest of them said to the others, “He has drunk palm wine and is intoxicated; place him yonder in the meantime, and then go on squeezing her.” Again the hunter fired, and another fell. The eldest again said, “The brave fellow has drunk palm wine nd is overcome; take him and lay him aside there.” The hunter killed all the little folk except the eldest The eldest called out to the hunter, “Come, oh, come on! I will not do anything to you.”

Thhe hunter went over to her. Th eldest of the fairies said, “Look in my room there and you will see the medicine for the gun and all the bullets which you have fired. Take what belongs to you and take Kwaboaso as well. But before you leave, go and cut bananas and, as you go, throw them away, so that when the other fairies wake up and come to catch you they will stop to pick them up, one by one, and you will have gone long, long, long aago.”

And accordingly, the hunter went and cut bananas, and he took Kwaboaso as well, and, when he reached the path, he threw one banana away. He continued doing so all the way home. And when only a short time remained before they would reach home, behold! the fairies were pursuing them. And he threw down the only banana left, and the fairies went after it, and eventually turned back. And the hunter restored Kwaboaso to her blood relations. Then the hunter went off to his own house.

Now the hunter was living there when he saw messengers had arrived at his place, and he said, “What is the news?”

The messengers said, “Kwaboaso says she has asked the head of the village to intercede for her, saying that now she is willing to marry you.”

The hunter said, “I thank you for the words from the mouth of the headman of the village, but I cannot marry the girl, for I still have ticks on my body.”

That is why the elders say, “When they take you to give you in marriage to anyone, marry him, for you do not know whether some day when you are in need, he will not rescue you.”

[ ASHANTI ]

SHE WAS AN OLD WOMAN of a family with a long genealogy. Leza Shikakunamo – “The Besetting One” – had stretched out his hand against her family. He slew her mother and her father while she was yet a child; and in the course of the years all connected with her perished. She said to herlsef, “Surely, I shall keep those who sit on my thighs” – but no, even they, the children of her children, were taken from her. She became withered with age, and it seemed to her that she herself was a last to be taken. But no, a change came over her: she grew younger. Then came into her heart a desperate resolution to find God and ask the meaning of it all. Somewhere up there in the sky must be His dwelling: if only she could reach it!

She began to cut down trees, immense, tall trees, joining them together, and so planning a structure that would reach to heaven. It grew and grew, but as it was getting to be as she wanted it, the lowest timbers rotted and it fell. She fell with it, but without being killed or breaking a bone. She set to work again and rebuilt the structure, but once again the foundations rotted and it fell. She gave it up in despair, but not her intention of finding Leza. Somewhere on earth there must be another way to heaven!

So she began to travel, going through country after country, nation after nation, always with the thought in her mind: “I shall come to where the earth ends, and there, where the earth and sky touch, I shall find a road to God, and I shall ask him, “What have I done to Thee that Thou affictest me in this manner?”

The old woman never found where the earth ends, but though disappointed, she did not give up her search. As she passed through the different countries the people asked her, “What have you come for, old woman?”

And her answer would be, “I am seeking Leza.”

“Seeking Leza! For what?”

“My brothers, you ask me! Here in the nations is there one who suffers as I have suffered?”

And they would ask again, “How have you suffered?” “In this way. I am alone. As you see me, a solitary old woman: that is how I am!”

And they answered again, “Yes, we see. That is how you are! Bereaved of friends and kindred? In what do you differ from others? Leza Shiakunamo sits on the back of every one of us, and we cannot shake him off!”

She never obtained her desire: she did died of a broken heart.

[ BAILA ]

ONCE UPON A TIME there were a man and a woman. They lived for many days in the land of Tata, and a son was born to them. Their fortune consisted of a hundred cattle. Beyond these they did not have a single calf; they had nothing but the cattle.

As time went by the son grew and became a big child, and when the boy was fifteen years of age, his father died. Several years later, his mother also died. So the young man had a heritage from both his parents – he inherited the hundred cattle which were left to him. He stayed in his home and observed the time of mourning for his parents. When he had finished mourning he felt an urge to look for a woman to marry.

He said to his neighbors, “I want to marry a woman, for my parents are dead and I am all alone now. I cannot stay alone. I must get married.”

His neighbors said to him, “Surely, get married, for indeed you are lonely now. We shall look around for you so that you may find a suitable woman to marry.”‘

He said, “Yes, be it so.”

Later, he said, “I would like somebody to go out and look for a woman for me.”

The said, “If God wills it!”

So one of the neighbors rose and went and looked for a woman whom the young man could marry, until he found one. Then he came and said to him, “I have found such a woman as you want, but she is not from this town.”

He asked, “Where, then, does she live?” the neighbor said, “In a different town, pretty far away. I think it takes eight hours of traveling from here to get there.”

He asked him, “Whose daughter is this girl?”

And the neighbor said to him, “She is the daughter of Abdallah, and her father is very rich. This woman owns six thousand cattle. The father has no other child, just this one daughter.”

When the young man heard this, he was all full of desire to obtain this woman, and he said to his neighbor, “Would you go there tomorrow and carry my answer – which is that I am agreeable.”

The neighbor said, “God willing, I will go there tomorrow.” And at da. n, the matchmaker rose and traveled until he came to old Abdallah, and he carried the young man’s message to him, and related all that had happened.

Finally the father answered him, saying, “I have heard yor words, but I desire that anyone who wants to marry my daighter should give me a hundred cattle as a bride-price. If he gives such a bride-price I will give him my daughter for wife.”

The matchmaker said, “God willing, I shall go and carry the amswer to him.” The father said to him, “Yes, do that!”

The matchmaker rose and went back, and gave the young man the answer. He told him everything that had been discussed.

The young man said, “I have heard your words, but he wants a hundred cattle as a bride-price, and I have just a hundred cattle. If I give them all to him, what will my wife have to live on, if she comes to me? I have no other fortune but these hundred cattle which i have inherited from my father.”

Finally, his neighbor said to him, “Well now, if you do not want her, tell me so. Then I can go and carry back your reply; or if you want her, tell me so definitely.”

The young man bowed his head and meditated and, when he raised his head again, he said, “It does not matter, go and say that I accept. I will go and fetch the hundred cattle and give them to him.”

So the matchmaker got up and went to the father of the girl and said to him, “The young man is willng to pay the hundred cattle.”

And the father said, “I am willing then that he should take my daughter.”

They talked over the details, and then someone was sent to bring the young man. The latter came and was amiably received, and they discussed the marriage. So the young man was wedded to the girl and paid the hundred cattle, and the wedding feast was celebrated.

Then the young man took his wife and traveled home. There they remained at first ten days; but when the provisions which they had taken along were used up, the young man had nothing for his wife to eat. Then he said to her, “Dear wife, now I have nothing left to eat. Formerly, I had my cattle. these I milked and thus I had my sustence; but now I have given my cattle away for you and, therefore, I have nothing left. Dear wife, I will go now to my neighbors and from those who have cows I shall obtain some milk, however little it be, so that we shall have something to eat.”

Then the woman said to him, “Yes, dear husband!”

So the young man went out and this now became his occupation. Every day he went out and milked other people’s cows, so that he could have something to eat for himself and his wife. This he continued to do every day.

One day his wife went out and placed herself in front of her door just as a very handsome young man passed by. When he saw the woman standing by the door, he was seized with a desire to seduce her. Thereupon he sent a procurer to talk to the woman.

The woman said, “God is my witness that I have heard the message you convey to me, but you must wait a little longer, until I have made up my mind, and then I will let you l know. I cannot answer yet.” So the procurer rose and went home.

Three months later, the woman’s father thought to himself, “I must go and pay a visit to my daughter and her husband.” So he started on his journey and went his way until he came to his son-in-law’s house. Arrived there, he knocked at the door. The daughter got up and answered, “Who is there?”

The old man said, “It is I Abdallah.”

The daughter rose and said to him, “Will you not come in?”

So he entered and exchanged greetings with his daughter, and she invited him into the hall, and the old man sat down there. The father asked the daughter how she was getting along, and she said, “Pretty well, my father.”

Finally the daughter got up, went away from where her father was sitting and went into her room, cogitating and crying prosusely, because there was not the slightest bit of food in the house that she could cook for her father. then she left by the back door, and when she looked behind the yard, she noticed the young man who wanted to seduce her, and he called to her to come nearer. So she went over to him and said to him “How are you getting along, sir?”

He said, “I once sent someone to you, and you said that you would come to me for a visit, but you have not come. Why are you so wavering?” Since I saw you that day more; every day, when I lie down, I dream only of you in my sleep.”

The woman answered him saying, “God be my witness, I shall not harass you any more. If you long for me I shall come without delay. First, however, get a piece of meat for me, so that I can cook something to eat for my guest. I sahll come afterward.”

The young man aksed her, “Who is your guest?”

The woman replied, saying, “It is my father whom I receive as a guest.”

Thereupon he said, “You wait here, and i will bring you some meat right away.”

So he rose and went out, and the woman remained standing there. A little later, he returned with a quarter of beef and said to her, “Here is the meat, but now do not put me off any longer.”

She said, “God be my witness, I shall not put you off.”

He stretched out his hand and gave her the meat, and the woman took it and went back into her house. Then he who had given her the meat paced up and down outside and waited for the fulfillment of the promise that the woman had made him.

After the woman returned, she took the meat, cut it into pieces, and put it into the pot. As soon as she had placed it in the pot, her husband came back and found his father-in-law sitting in the hall. As he saw his father-in-law sitting in the hall, his blood rose. He could not find a word to say, not did he know what to do. He greeted him according to custom and asked him how he was getting along. After that he went to his wife and found her cooking meat and asked her, “I am cooking meat.”

He asked, “Where did you get this meat from?”

She said, “I received it from the neighbors; they have given it to me.”

When her husband heard this he remained silent and became sad because he was so terribly poor.

Then he said to his wife, “My dear wife, what shall we do now that we have not only ourselves to feed but also a guest?”

His wife answered him saying, “I do not know what we shall do.”

Then the man said, “I will go out to the rich people where I milk the cows and tell them, “I have a guest staying with me now, and I would like you to give something, whatever it be, to cook for my guest.’ “So he rose, went to rich people where he worked, and apprised them of everything that had happened to him.

These rich people were sympathetic and gave him a little meat and a little milk, which he took. Then he went home.

At his house, in the meantime, his wife had finished cooking the meat that she had received from her would-be seducer. When her husband returned with the meat, the woman put out her hand, accepted it, and laid it on the floor. then the husband rose and washed his hands and went into the hall. The woman in the kitchen withdraw the meat from the pot and placed it on the platter from which they were accustomed to eat.

Now the would-be seducer had remained where he was, walking up and down, until he saw that the time, which had been agreed upon with the woman, had passed. Then he said to his heart, “The best thing for me to do is to pass by the front door and look inside. erhaps I shall see the woman.” So he went off and passed by the door, and encountered the woman’s husband and the father-in-law sitting and chatting. When the wicked man saw that, he greeted them, and the woman’s husband anwsered the greeting, inviting him to approach. So the wicked man came up and sat down.

Then they conversed together, the woman’s husband having no inklings of the stranger’s plan and of what he really wanted. Thus they conversed with each other – the woman’s father, and the woman’s husband, and that impious creature who wanted to disturb the peace of the young man’s house. The three men stayed together in the hall.

As soon as the woman inside had placed the meat on the platter, she brought it out into the hall. As soon as her husband rose to be handed the meat, the woman said, “Eat now, you three fools!”

Thereupon her father began, saying, “Well now, wherefore am I a fool?”

His daughter answered him, saying, “Please, father, eat first. Afterwards I shall tell you all about your foolishness.”

But the father said, “No, I shall not eat, but you shall first tell me about my foolishness. After that, I shall eat.”

Thereupon the daughter rose and said, “My father, you have sold an expensive object for a cheap one.”

Her father said to her, “What is it that i have sold too cheaply?”

She said, “It is I, my father whom you have sold too cheaply.”

He said, “Why so?”

She said, “Father, you have no daughter and no child except only me and you went and sold me for a hundred cattle, yet you, father, have six thousand cattle anyhow. You have regarded a hundred cattle as more valuable than me. That is why I have said, “You have gfiven up a valuable thing for a cheap one.”

The father answered, “That is true, my child, I was a fool.”

then her husband rose and said, “Now, please, tell me the nature of my foolishness too.”

The woman said to him, “You are even a greater fool.”

He said, “Why that?’

She said, “You inherited a hundred cattle from your parents, not a single calf more did you inherit. And you took them all and wedded me in exchange for them, in exchange for all your hundred cattle, yet there were so many women in your own town whose bride-price amounted to only ten or twenty cattle. But you did not look at them. Instead, you came and married me in exchange for all your cattle. And now you have nothing, not even anything to eat for me and for yourself, and you have become a servant of others. You go and milk the cows of other people to get something to eat. Had you kept half of your herd of cattle and married a woman with the other half, you would have had something to eat. Therefore, this is your foolishness, my dear husband.”

Then the worthless knave asked, “And wherein does my foolishness consist? Tell me!”

thereupon the woman rose and said, “You are even a greater fool than both the others.”

And he asked her, “Why is that?”

She answered him, saying, “You wanted to get with a single quarter of beef what had been bought for a hundred cattle. Are you not, therefore, a fool?”

He jumped up in a hurry and ran away as quickly as he could.

The woman’s father stayed with them for two days. On the third day he made his preparation for taking leave and then went home. When he arrived at his house, he unhobbled the cattle which he had received from his son-in-law and sent them back to him. With them he sent another two hundred. Thus his daughter could live in comfort with her husband for many days.

[ SWAHILI ]

THERE WAS ONCE a small boy who was herding the goats, and his father came and pointed out to him some long and luxurious grass and told him to take the goats there to feed. So he pastured them there that day and took them there again the day following. Now the next day while the goats were feeding, the owner of the pasture appeared, and said to the boy, “Why are you feeding your goats on my grass?” And the boy said, “It is not my doing, for my father’s house and talk to him.” Now the owner of the grazing ground was a man very bog and tall, and his name was Mukun’ ga M’Bura, so in the evening he came to the home of the biy and he said to the father, “Why were your goats eating my grass when you could see I had closed it to you?’

The father said, “That is my affair.” Mukn’ ga M’Bura said, “As you have done this, I will eat you and all your people.” To this the father reoplied, “You shall do no such thing.” So the young men made sharp their swords and got ready their spears, but Munkun’ ga M’Bura was too strong for them, and he ate the father, and the young men, and the women, and the children, and the oxen, and the goats, and then he ate the house and the barns, so that there was nothing left. The only person who escaped was a little boy, who ran away and hid in the grass so that Mukun’ga M’Bura, did not see him.

The boy made himself a bow and shot wild game and became very strong and built himself a house; and at last he said, when he was full-grown, “Why do I stay here? I am big and strong. Mukun’ ga M’Bura, who killed my father and all my people, still lives.”

So he took his sword and made it very sharp and went to the district where Mukun’ ga M’Bura lived, and as he drew near he saw him coming up out of the great water where he lived. He shouted to him, “Tomorrow I will come and kill you.” And he went back and ate more meat so as to be stronger then ever. The next day he went again, but Mukun’ ga M’Bura was not to be seen. The third day he met him again, and said, “You have killed all my people, so I will kill you,” and Mukun’ ga M’Bura was afraid and said to the warrior, “Do not strike me with your sword over the heart or I shall die, but open my middle finger,” so the warrior did so, and said, “Make a big hole, not a little one.”

And the warrior made a big hole, and out came first the father, whom Mukun’ ga M’Bura had eaten, and then they young men, and the women, and the cattle, and the sheep, and the houses, and the food stores just as before. And the warrior said, “No, I will spare you, for you have restored my father, his people and his goods, but you must not eat them again.” And the giant said, “They shall be safe.”

The warrior and his people went back and rebuilt their homesteads, but the warrior thought to himself, “Now this Mukun’ ga M’Bura is big and strong my very bad. He has eaten many people. He may come again and destroy my father.”

So he called the young men and asked them to come and fight Mukun’ ga M’Bura with him, and they all made ready for war and went to the home of Mukun’ ga M’Bura. He saw them coming and said, “Why are you here to slay me? Have I not given you back your people?” But the warrior replied, “You are very evil, you have killed and eaten many people, therefore you shall die.” Then they all fell upon him and slew him and cut off his head and hewed his body in pieces. But a big piece separated itself from the rest of the body, which was dead, and went back into the water; and the warrior returned to his home and told his brother that he had slain Mukun’ ga M’Bura, all but one leg. “Tomorrow,” he said, “I will go into the water and get that leg and burn it.” And the mother besought him not to go, but the next day he went, and when he got to the place there was no water to be seen, only cattle and goats, for what remained of Mukun’ ga M’Bura had gathered together his children and taken all the water and gone very far. The beasts, however, he had not taken but left behind. So the warrior went back and brought his people, and they gathered the cattle and goats together and took them back to their own homestead.

[ AKIKUYU ]

THER WAS ONCE a great famine in a certain country, and the people were obliged to eat wild plants to keep themselves alive. Their principal food during this time was nongwes which they dug out of the ground.

There was living at that place a man called Kenkebe, and one day his wife said to him, “My husband, go to my father and ask him to give us some corn.

The man said, “Yes, I will go.”

So he rose up early in the morning and went on until he arrived at his father-in-law’s village, where he was received with every mark of kindness. A very large ox was killed for his entertainment. It was so large that it was six days before it was all eaten. His father-in-law asked of him the news.

He said, “there is no news to tell to friends. All the news is this – that at my home there is not a grain to be eaten. Famine is over our heads. Will you give us some corn, for was are dying?”

His father-in-law gave him seen bags full of millet, and his wife’s sisters went with him to carry them. When they came to a valley close by his home, he told his sisters-in-law that they could now go back to their father

They said, “How will you manage to carry all those bags alone?”

He replied, “I shall be able to carry them all now, because we are not far from my home.”

So the girls went back to their father.

Then he carried the bags, one by one, and hid them in a cave under a great rock that was there. Afterward he took some of the millet and ground it. When it was ground very fine he made it into cakes just like nongwes. Then he dug some real nongwes out of the ground and went to his wife.

He said to her, “There is a great famine at your father’s also. I found the people there eating themselves.”

He told his wife to make fire. Then he pretended to cut a piece of meat out of his thigh and said, “So are they doing at your father’s village. Now, my wife, let us do the same.’

His wife cut a piece from her leg and roasted it, but the piece that Kenkebe put on the fire was meat that he had brought home with him.

Then Kenkebe’s little boy said, “Why does my father’s meat smell nice in roasting and my mother’s meat does not smell nice?”

Kenkebe Answered, “it is because it is taken from the leg of a man.”

After this he gave his wife some nongwes to roast. He took for himself some of those he had made of corn.

The little boy said, “Why do my father’s nongwes smell nice in roasting, and my mother’s do not smell nice?”

Kenkebe said, “It is because they were dug by a man.”

After eating, he went outside, but he had dropped one of his nongwes by the fire. When he went out, the boy found it. He broke it in two and gave half to his mother.

He said, “There is a difference between our nongwes and those of father.”

His mother said, “Yes, my child, this one is made of corn.”

The next morning, just at the very beginning of dawn, Kenkebe got up and went away with a pot in his hand. The boy was awake and saw his father go out. So he called to his mother and said, “Mother, mother, wake! My father is going away with the pot in his hand!”

So she got up and they followed after Kenkebe. They saw him go to the cave where he took some corn out of one of the bags and began to grind it. Then they went on top of the rock, and rolled a big stone over.

When Kenkebe saw the stone coming he ran away, but it followed close behind him. He ran down the valley, but the stone kept running too. He jumped into a deep hole in the river. Down went the stone, too. He ran up the hill and up went the stone. He ran over the plain but, whenever he turned to look, the stone was just there behind him. So it continued all that day. At night he reached his own house and then the stone stopped. His wife had already come home and had brought with her one of the bags of corn.

Kenkebe came in crying.

His wife said to him, “Why do you cry as if you were a child?”

He said, “Because I am very tired and very hungry.”

She said, “Where are your clothes and your bag?”

He replied, “I was crossing a river, and I fell down. The stream carried away my mantle, my bag, and my kerries, indeed everything that was mine.”

Then his wife gave him his mantle, which she had picked up when he was running away, and she said to him, “You are foolish to do such things. There is no food for you tonight.”

The next morning Kenkebe rose and went out to hunt with his two dogs. The name of the one was Tumtumse, and the name of the other was Mbambozozele. He found am eland with a young calf which he drove to his place. He cut an ear off the calf and roasted it in the fire. It was fat, and he liked it so much that he cut the other ear off and cooked it also. Then he wished to kill the calf, but he said to himself, “If I kill this calf, I shall not be able to get milk from the eland.”

So he called his two dogs and said to the one, “Tumtumse, my dog, if I kill this calf, will you imitate it and suck the eland for me?

The dog said “No, I shall bark like a dog.”

Kenkebe said, “Get out of my sight and never come near me again, you ugly, useless animal.”

He said to the other, “Mbambozozele, my dog, if I kill calf, will you imitate it and suck the eland for me?”

The dog said, “I will do so.”

Then he killed the calf and ate it. He took the skin and put it upon Mbambozozele, so that the eland thought it was her calf that sucked before Kenkebe milked her. But one day the dog was sucking too long, and Kenkebe wanted him to leave off. He tried to drink just a few drops more, when his master got angry and struck him with a stick. Thereupon the dog began to howl, and the eland saw him with her horns. He ran one way and the eland ran after him, then he ran another way, and still the eland chased him.

His wife came out and saw him running. She cried out to him, “Jump up quickly on the big stone.” He did so, and the eland ran with such fury against the stone that it broke its head and fell down dead.

They then cut the eland up and wanted to cook it, but there was no fire. Kenkebe said to his son, “Go to the village of the cannibals that is on that hill over the valley and ask for some fire; but do not take any meat with you, lest they should smell it.”

The boy went, but he hid a piece of meat and took it with him. When he got to the first house he asked for fire, but they sent him to the next. At the next they sent him farther, and so he finally had to go to the house that was farthest away. An old woman lived there. The boy gave her a little piece of meat and said, “Do not cook it until I am far away with the fire.”

But as soon as the boy was gone she put it on the coals. The smell came to the noses of the cannibals and they ran to the place and swallowed the old woman, and the meat, and the fire, and even the ashes.

Then they ran after the boy. When he came near his own house, he cried out, “Hide yourselves, you that are at home!”

His father said, “My son is saying we must gather wood that will make coals.”

His mother said, “No, he is saying that we must hide ourselves.”

The boy cried again, “Hide yourselves!”

Then his mother hid herself in a bush. An old woman who was there covered herself with ashes, and Kenkebe climbed up into a tree, with the breast of the eland in his hand. The boy slipped into a hole which was by the side of the path.

The cannibals came to the place. First they ate the eland. Then one of them said, “Search under the ashes.”

There they found the old woman, and they ate her. Then they said, “Search in the tree.”

There they found Kenkebe. He cried very much, but they would not spare him. They ate him and the breast of the eland. Then the wise one said, “Look in the bush.”

They looked there and found the wife of Kenkebe. They said, “We will eat her another time,” and so they took her home with them. They did not look for the boy.

The woman made a plan to escape. She made beer for the cannibals and they all came to drink. They sat together in a bog house, and drank very much beer. Then said, “May I go out?”

They said, “You may go, but come back quickly.”

She said, “Shall I close the entrance?”

They said, “Close it.”

Then she took fire and put it on the house and all there cannibals were burned to death. so the woman escaped, and lived happily afterward with her son.

[ XOSA ]

ONCE A WOMAN, after prolonged labour, gave birth to twins, both sons. And each one, as he was brought forth, came into this world with a valuable fetish. One the mother called Luemba, the other Mavungu. And they were almost full-grown at their birth, so that Mavungu, the first-born, wished to start upon his travels.

Now about this time the daughter of Nzambi was ready for marriage. The tiger came and offered himself in marriage, but Nzambi told him that he must speak to her daughter himself, as she should only marry the man of her choice. Then the tiger went to the girl and asked her to marry him, but she refused him. Then the gazelle, and the pig, and all created things that had breath, one after the other, asked the daughter in marriage; but she refused them all, saying that she did not love them. And they were all very sad.

Mavungu heard of this girl, and determined to marry her. And so he called upon his charm, and asked it to help him. He took some grass in his hands, and changed one blade of grass into a horn, another into a knife, another into a gun, and so on, until he was quite ready for the long journey.

Then he set out, and travelled and travelled, until at last hunger overcame him, when he asked his fetish whether it was true that he was going to be allowed to starve. The charm hastened to place a sumptuous feast before him, and Mavungu ate and was satisfied.

“Oh, fetish!” Mavungu said, “Are you going to leave these beautiful plates which I have used, for the use of any commoner that may come along?” The charm immediately caused all to disappear.

Then Mavungu travelled and travelled, until at length he came very tired, and had to ask his charm to arrange a place for him where he might sleep. And the charm saw to his comfort, so that he passed a peaceful night.

And after many days’ weary traveling he at length arrived at Nzambi’s town. And Nzambi’s daughter saw Mavungu and straightaway fell in love with him, and ran to her mother and father and cried, “I have seen the man I love, and I shall die if I do not marry him.”

Then Mavungu sought out Nzambi, and told her that he had come to marry her daughter.

“Go and see her first,” said Nzambi, “and is she will have you, you may marry her.”

And when Mavungu and the daughter of Nzambi saw each other, they ran towards each other and loved one another.

They were led to a fine shimbec; and while all the people in the town danced and sang for gladness. Mavungu and the daughter of Nzambi slept there. And in the morning Mavungu noticed that the whole shimbec was crowded with mirrors, but that each mirror was covered so that the glass could not be seen. And he asked the daughter of Nzambi to uncover them, so that he might see himself in them. And she took him to one and opened it, and Mavungu immediately saw the perfect likeness of his native town. And she took him to another, and he there saw another town he knew; and thus she took took him to all the mirrors save one, and this one she refused to let him see.

“Why will you not let me look into that mirror?” asked Mavungu.

“Because that is the picture of the town whence no man who arrives there returns.”

“Do let me see it!” urged Mavungu.

At last the daughter of Nzambi yielded, and Mavungu looked hard at the reflected image of the terrible place.

“I must go there,” he said.

“Nay, you will never return. Please don’t go!” pleaded the daughter of Nzambi.

“Have no fear!” answered Mavungu. “My fetish will protect me.”

The daughter of Nzambi cried very much, but could not move Mavungu from his purpose. Mavungu then left his newly-married wife, mounted his horse, and set off for the town from whence no man returns.

He traveled and traveled, until at last he came near to the town, when, meeting an old woman, he asked her for fire to light his pipe.

“Tie up your horse first, and come and fetch it.”

Mavungu descended, and having tied his horse up very securely, he went to the woman for the fire; and when he had come near to her she killed him, so that he disappeared entirely.

Now Luemba wondered at the long absence of his brother Mavungu and determined to follow him. So he took some grass, and by the aid of his fetish changed one blade into a horse, another into a knife, another into a gun, and so on, until he was fully prepared for his journey. Then he set out and, after some days journeying, arrived at Nzambi’s town.

Nzambi rushed out to meet him, and calling him Mavungu, embraced him.

“Nay,” said Luemba, “My name is not Mavungu; I am his brother, Luemba.”

“Nonsense!” answered Nzambi. “You are my son-in-law, Mvaungu.” And straightway a great feast was prepared. Nzambi’s daughter danced for joy and would not hear of his not being Mavungu. And Luemba was sorely troubled, and did not know what to do, as he was now sure that Mzambi’s daughter was Mavungu’s wife. And when night came, Nzambi’s daughter would sleep in Luemba’s shimbec; but he appealed to his charm, and it enclosed Nzambi’s daughter in a room, lifting her out of Luemba’s room for the might and bringing her back in the early morning.

Luemba’s curiosity, too, was aroused by the many closed mirrors that hung about the walls, so he asked Nzambi’s daughter to let him look into them. And she showed him all excepting one. This she told him was the one that reflected the town whence no man returns. Luemba insisted upon. looking into this one and when he had seen the terrible picture he knew that his brother was there.

Luemba determined to leave Nzambis town for the town whence no man returns; and so after thanking them all for his kind reception, he set out. They all wept loudly, but were consoled by the fact that he had been there once already, and returned safely, so that he could of course return a second time. Luemba traveled and traveled, until he also came to where the old woman was standing, and asked her for fire.

She told him to tie up his horse and come to her to fetch it, but he tied his horse up only very lightly, and then fell upon the old woman and killed her.

Then he sought out his brother’s bones and the bones of his horse, and out them together, and then touched them with his charm. And Mavungu and his horse came to life again. Then together they joined the bones of hundreds of people together and touched them with their charms, so that they all lived again. And they set off with all their followers to Nzambi’s town. And Luemba told Mavungu how he had been mistaken for him by his father-in-law and wife, and how by the help of his charm he had saved his wife from dishonor. Mavungu thanked him, and said it was well.

But a quarrel broke out between the two brothers about the followers. Mavungu said they were his, because he was the elder; but Luemba said that the belonged to him, because he had given Mavungu and them life. Mavungu then fell upon Luemba and killed him; but his horse remained by his body. Mavungu then went on his way to Nzambi’s town and was magnificently welcomed.

Now Luemba’s horse took his charm and touched Luemba’s body, so that he lived again. Then Luemba mounted his horse and sought out his brother Mavungu and killed him.

And when the town had heard the whole story, they all said Luemba had done quite rightly.

[ BAKONGO ]

WHAT DO YOU THINK? This is what they did. They went looking for wives, saying, “Let us go and try to marry.”

One of them went looking for a wife everywhere. Every one rejected him. At last he, too, like the others, succeeded in making a marriage such as it was.

Well! He brought his wife into the house.

Now, when he married her, he said, “Look here, woman you will eat porridge of small millet, and no other.”

“All right,” answered the woman.

“And I,” added the man, “I shall eat only kafir-corn porridge.”

“All right,” said the woman again.

So, after that, they simply ate porridge, the woman millet, the man kafir-corn.

Alas! One day the woman, making a mistake, happened to eat the kafir-corn porridge. The man came. “You have eaten my porridge,” he said, “yet I told you to eat only millet porridge.” Whereupon he picked up an axe and struck the woman. Then he dragged her, drag! drag! drag! and went and threw her away to the west.

After that the man went alone, wandering about.

One day he said to himself, “We are going for a ramble in the bush.” He went there and killed game. He then remembered that one woman had been left in the village over there. So he said to himself, “Let us go and marry her.”

He went there, received her in marriage, brought her to his home, and said to her, “Look here! You know what killed my former mate… Now don’t you ever dare to eat kafir-corn porridge; you shall eat millet porridge, that’s all.”

“No fear,” said the woman, “I shall eat no kafir-corn porridge.”

The following day he thought of resuming his expedition to the bush. Leaving his bride alone in the hut, he said, “Now I shall have a walk into the bush.” And away he went.

Well! At night when it was quite dark, the new bride heard the sound kwe! kwe! kwe! drag! drag! drag! “That must be,” she thought, “The former wife, the one that was killed, struck with an axe!”

There she was already at the door, drag! drag! drag! Then she knocked nku! nku! nku! knock! knock! knock! Then a song Ramba:

“Open,, open, little bird.

Open, open, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a little bird.”

The new bride went to open for her. The old one dragged herself into the hut, and said:

“Put it on the fire, put it on the fire, little bird.

Put it on the fire, put it on the fire, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a spirit.”

The old wife herself went ahead and put the pot on the fire. They both then remained quiet. Did you ever! The pot boiled, and the new bride then clearly recognized the former one, and heard:

“Stir the porridge, stir the porridge, little bird.

Stir the porridge, stir the porridge, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a spirit.”

The old bride then got up herself to bring kafir-corn meal from the big jar, put it with her own hands in the pot, stirred and stirred her porridge, and then put it in a dish. Just imagine! She actually put tow fingers into it, saying:

“Let us eat, let us eat, little bird.

Let us eat, let us eat, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a spirit.”

She just ate alone. Her new mate went so far as to put a finger into the porridge, but she did not eat. So the woman repeated:

“Let us eat, let us eat, little bird.

Let us eat, let us eat, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a spirit.”

She finished her porridge alone. Her mate had not said a word. The woman then moved away. There! She was going. Drag yourself! Drag yourself! Then she stopped at the door to say:

“Shut behind me, shut behind me, little bird.

Shut behind me, shut behind me, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a spirit.”

Now she was out! There she went toward her hole and buried herself in it.

The next day the man returned from the bush, and his wife came to meet him. “Dear me!” she said, “Here in the hut where you have left me there is a thing which comes at night. It is impossible to sleep. It keeps one awake with songs.”

“What is it like?” asked the man.

“You will see it tonight,” answered the woman.

Night came. “Now,” asked the man, “how about the thing you were speaking of?”

“We shall see it, sure enough,” said the woman.

Then it was dark. The woman was already there. The people inside heard kwe! kwe! kwe! drag! drag! There she was already knocking at the door:

“Open, open, little bird.

Open, open, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a spirit.”

Heaven help us! The present wife moved to go and open the door. The husband caught hold of her. “Do not go! he said.

“I will go,” she said.

So the little woman got away from his grip and went to open the door. The first wife then came in, dragging herself along.

“Put it on the fire, put it on the fire, little bird.

Put it on the fire, put it on the fire, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a spirit.”

She put the pot on the fire, and then say down. When the pot boiled she said:

“Stir the porridge, stir the porridge, little bird.

Stir the porridge, stir the porridge, little bird.

O mother! be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a spirit.”

Then she herself stirred the porridge, took it out of the pot and put two fingers in it, singing:

“Let us eat, let us eat, little bird.

Let us eat, let us eat, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little porridge of kafir corn is a spirit.”

Good gracious! She ate and ate her porridge. Then she again began to drag herself along, but this time in the direction of the bed, saying:

“Let us sleep, let us sleep, little bird.

Let us sleep, let us sleep, little bird.

O mother! Be satisfied with millet.

A little kafir corn porridge is a spirit.”

She then began to stretch herself on the bed in which lay her husband who had struck her with an axe. Seeing that, the second little wife rushed outside.

When people came, the next morning, they found in the hut only a corpse, and this already swollen.

And this litTle story, too, that’s all. It ends there.

[ BENA MUKUNI ]

THE WAS IN TIMES of long ago a certain old woman; she was living with her daughter; she was the mother-in-law. Her son-in-law offered her amasi, telling her to eat; for there was not much food, it was a famine. She refused the amasi. He offered her a cow, telling her to eat the milk: she refused, saying she could not eat the milk of her son-in-law.

In the digging season she was very hungry; she was in the habit of returning home at moon, and she would open her son-in-law’s house, and pour out the amasi and eat it. But when the sun had set, her s0n-in-law said, speaking to his wife, “Go home and boil some maize, that we may mix it with the amasi, for the calabash is now full.” On their arrival she boiled maize, and made a soft mass; the husband went and took the calabash; he found it empty; there was now nothing but whey in it. They and their children will die, for a thief is eating their milk, through this great famine.” The old woman did thus at all times. But the husband and wife did not know that the milk was taken by their mother.

One day the husband lay in wait, and caught their mother; but their mother cried, saying, “I did it for the first time this very day.” Her son-in-law said, “Go and fetch for me water at a place where no frog cries; and I will not expose you to the people.”

He gave her a water-vessel. She went on and on for a long time, passing many rivers; she came to rivers which she did not know; she asked, “Is there any frog here?” A frog answered, “Khhwe, I am here.” She passed on, and came to another place; she saw a pool; she went to it and dipped water; a frog said, “Khhwe, I am here.” She poured it out. She travelled acting thus, and the frog answering in like manner, for there were frogs in every pool. She came to another pool and said, “Is there a frog here?” No frog answered. She sat down and dipped water. But when the vessel was nearly full (for it was a very large one), a frog said, “Khhwe, I am here.” She poured out the water again, now crying and saying, “Woe is me, mamo! I merely took of my own accord the amasi of my son-in-law for food.” She went on and came to a very great pool. There were many paths which went to the pool. She was afraid. There were many shady trees on the banks of the pool. She went to the pool and sat down; she said, “Is there any frog here?” There was no answer. She repeated her question. There was no answer. She dipped water into the vessel; the vessel was very full. When it was full, she drank very much, until the vessel was empty. She dipped again till it was full; she drank; she was no longer able to drink the whole, she had pain in the stomach, for she was unable to leave off drinking, it was so nice.

But when she wished to arise and depart, she was unable to arise; she dragged the water-vessel, and went into the shade, and sat down there, for she was unable to walk. At length it was noon; there came a rock-rabbit, and said, “Who is this sitting in the shade of the king?” She said, “It is I, father. I was about to depart; but my limbs failed me.” The rock-rabbit said, “You will soon see Ugunqu-kubantwana.” She went and drank at the pool, and returned to the shade. A duiker came and said, “Who is this sitting in the shade of the king?” She said, “It is I father. I was about to depart, but my limbs failed me.” The duiker said, “You will soon see Ugungqu-kubantwana.” A leopard came and said, “Who is sitting in the shade of the king?” She said, “It is I father. I was about to depart, but my limbs failked me.” The leopard said, “You will soon see Ugungqu-kubantwana.” All animals came saying the same. And when at length it was about sunset, there came very many and great animals; all the animals said the same.

When the sun was setting, she heard a great noise – gungqu, gungqu. She was afraid and trembled. At length there appeared something greater than all the animals she had seen. When it appeared the all said with one accord, “This is Ugungqu-kubantwana.” When it came in sight, while still at some distance, she said, “Who, who are you sitting in the shade of Ugungqu-kubantwana?” Then the old woman had no more any power to speak; it was now as though death had already come to her. Ugungqu-kubantwana asked a second time. The old woman replied, “It is I, my lord. I was thinking of departing, but my limbs failed me.” She s aid, “You will soon see Ugungqu-kubantwana.”

The creature went to the river; when she reached it, she knelt on her knees, and drank the pool; although it was very great, she drank until the mud at the bottom of the pool appeared. She then sat down. And there were oribis there, who were the officers of Ugungqu-kubantwana; there were also hyenas. Ugungqu-kabantwana said, “Let her be eaten.” The hyenas agreed. But the oribis said, “She shall be eaten when she is fat. I chief.” Again she said, “Let her be eaten.” The oribis said, “It is now dark; she shall be eaten in the morning, O chief.”

It was dark; they slept, and all the animals slept. But some animals put off sleeping because they wished that she should be eaten. At length it was midnight and all were asleep. But four oribis had not gone to sleep; they arose and took the old woman, and raised her and placed her on the back of three of them; the fourth oribis took the water-vessel. They ran during the night, and went and placed her on the border of her village. Then they returned with speed, saying, then they should get back before morning. And truly they soon arrived at the pool again.

One said to the other, “What shall we do? Let us devise a plan, that it may not appear that it is we who have enabled her to flee.” The others said, “Since the animals which like to eat men are the leopard, the lion, other wild beasts, and hyenas–” Then one said, “Let us smear mud on the hyenas, for it is they who like to eat men; and the chief will agree and say, “They have taken the game of the chief, and gone and eaten it at a distance.’ For if we smear the leopard it will feel (for it is a very wrathful creature) and awake, and all the people will awake, and the cief say, it is we who have taken away the game, and gone to eat it.” So all the other oribis agreed. They went and smeared the mud on the legs of the hyenas; and when they had cleansed themselves they went and lay down where they had lain.

In the morning all the animals arose and said, “Where is the game of the chief? She will kill the oribis, it was they who objected to its being eaten.” The oribis at once awake, saying, “The chief will look at the feet of all the people. If they have not gone anywhere, they will be clean. But if they have gone, there will be seen mud on their feet and their legs.” The chief agreed, and said to the oribis, “make haste at once, and look for the muddy legs, and let them he seized and brought to me.” All the animals stood forth, and looked at each other; there was found mud on the hyenas. The oribis said, “It is the hyenas who have taken and eaten her, for they are animals which like to eat men.” The hyenas were seized and taken to the chief. She seized the three hyenas, and ate them.

The old woman remained at the border of the kraal; at length she saw some one belonging to her home; he told her son-in-law; he went and fetched her and the water-vessel. The son-in-law continually drank the water which his mother-in-law had brought.

It came to pass on the day the water was finished the old woman said, “Since I went and fetched water, do you go and fetch for me the liver of an ingogo.” Many loaves were made for him to eat on his journey, for it was a great way off. In the morning, carrying the loaves, he set out on his journey, sleeping in the open air; at length he arrived at the new moon, and found very many izingogo, leaping on the bank of a river, at play. He approached them, he too now running and now going on his hands and feet. The old izingogo said, “There is out ingogo.” The young ones said, “What kind of ingogo is that, which has hair like a man; and little eyes like a man; and little ears like a man?” The old ones said, “It is an ingogo; by such and such things we see it is nought but an ingogo; by such and such things we see it is nought but an ingogo; by such and such things we see it is nought but an ingogo.” So the little ones were silent. But when they were by themselves they laughed, saying, “That is not an ingogo.” At length they returned to their homes.

On his arrival the man had noticed that there was at the kraal a grandmother, who was now old. In the morning the others said, “Go, fellow, we are going to hunt.” He said, “I am tired; I shall not go today.” All the old ones went; the young ones said, “Let us come home by and by, and find that you have already fetched firewood for cooking.” The little ones said, “We do not like to leave our grandmother alone with the person who has come.” So they went to hunt. At length they returned; on their arrival the little ones were sitting still; the old ones were angry, and said, “we are already come from hunting; but you have not been to fetch firewood.” The little ones were silent. The game was cooked. They ate and lay down.

In the morning they said, “Let us go and hunt.” He went with them. They went and hunted, and returned in the afternoon; they found the little ones too now returning from fetching wood. They cooked their game. The newly arrived ingogo said, when the game was dressed, “Just put aside a leg for me, for I have a pain in my stomach. I cannot just now eat meat.” They assented, and put aside a leg for him. They lay down.

In the morning they asked him how his stomach was. He said, “It is still painful.” They said, “Let us go and hunt.” So they went, and he remained alone with the little ones. As soon as the hunters were gone, he said, “Do you go and fetch me some water from the river, that I may drink.” They took a water-vessel and went with it. But the vessel leaked, having a hole in the bottom. They arrived at the river, and dipped water; the vessel leaked. They took a long time in returning from the river. But the moment they had gone, the ingogo arose and took a spear, and killed the grandmother of the izingogo who were absent. He cut open the chest and bowels; the liver appeared; he took it out; he looked on every side; he looked upwards and saw an uvati; he took it down and fled.

When the sun was setting the little izingogo returned; when they were in the lower part of the village, saw much blood which had run on the path, now dry, for he had stabbed the old ingogo in the morning. They at once ran home; on their arrival they entered the house; but the house was very long, and not very light inside; they found their grandmother dead. They went out, running with all their might, crying, and looking in the direction whither they had gone to hunt. When they saw the old ones, the littles ones cried out again and again saying, “What kind of an ingogo is that who has eyes like a man?” The old ones said, “what has happened?” The little ones replied, “He has killed grandmother.” They ran, they threw down their game; they carried their spears in their hands. They asked, “In what direction has the man gone who we thought was an ingogo?” The little ones said, “We saw him not; we had gone to fetch water; on our return we found grandmother dead; but saw no more of him.”

They followed his track by the blood where it had gone dropping in the path. They ran; when it was dark they slept in the open country. In the morning they awoke and ran with all their might. When it was noon, the man who was carrying the liver looked and saw much dust behind him. He ran very fast. But the real izingogo were more swift than he; for he was a man; they were animals. At midday they saw him. It was a though they flew through catching sight of him. He saw that they would soon catch him. He ascended a very long steep place; when he was at the top, they were reaching the bottom; he descended; he found very much long and thick grass; he took the uvati, and sat down, and churned it, and kindled a fire, and set the grass on fire; it surrounded the steep hill; the izingogo fled, for they feared the fire; they went back from the mountain by the way they came. And he ran forward until it was dark without seeing them.

He slept. In the morning he awoke and fled. That night he slept at another village on the high land. In the morning he awoke and ran. At noon he looked behind him, and saw the izingogo coming to him running. And those who had lagged behind, being tired, now when they saw him ran rapidly; it was again as if their fatigue was at an end. Again he saw they were about to catch him. He churned the uvati, and kindled fore, and burnt the grass: when they saw the fore burning, they halted. He ran and saw them no more; until he had slept twice in the way he did not see them. On the third day, the day he would reach his own people, he saw them at noon; they pursued him; he hastened and approached near the villages, and then turned back.

The izingogo returned to their own home. On their arrival they took the grandmother, and boiled her in a large pot. They took a whole day cooking her. Until it was morning they kept up the fire, and during the morning they kept up the fire. At noon they took her out of the pot, and placed her on the feeding-mats; she remained there till she was cold. The old ones said to the little ones, “Let us eat your grandmother, then we shall not die.” So they ate her up.

The son-in-law of the old woman reached his home; on his arrival he gave her the liver. She said, “You have done well, my child.”

EXPLANATIONS BY THE ZULU NARRATOR

UGUNGQU-KUBANTWANA WAS SO CALLED BECAUSE SHE WAS THE MOTHER OF ALL ANIMALS, FOR SHE WAS THEIR CHIEF; AND AS REGARDS THE POOL, THE ANIMALS USED TO GO TO IT FIRST AND DRINK, AND LEAVE WATER FOR HER, FOR SHE COULD NOT DRINK FIRST, FOR ALL THE WATER WOULD HAVE BEEN EXHAUSTED BEFORE THE ANIMALS HAD DRUNK IF SHE HAD DRUNK FIRST; AND AS TOHER BODY, ON ONE SIDE THERE WAS A COUNTRY, ON THE OTHER RIVERS AND GREAT FORESTS; BUT THE RIVERS WHICH WERE IN HER THE ANIMALS DID NOT LIKE TO DRINK, FOR THEY WERE LIKE COMMON WATER; THAT POOL AT WHICH THEY ALL DRANK WAS, AS IT WERE, MILK; THEREFORE THEY DID NOT DRINK AT OTHER RIVERS, THEY DRANK AT THE POOL. SHE WAS CALLED UGUNQU BECAUSE WHEN SHE WAS STILL AT A DISTANCE SHE WAS HEARD COMING, FOR WHEN SHE WAS MOVING THERE WAS HEARD A GREAT NOISE, AND THEY HEARD THAT SHE WAS COMING BY THE GUNQU, GUNGQU.

THE IZINGOGO WERE APPARENTLY MEN; BUT IT CAME TO PASS BY THEIR CHOICE THEY LIVED IN THE OPEN COUNTRY, UNTIL THEY WERE CALLED ANIMALS, FOR THEY LIVED IN THE OPEN COUNTRY, AND THEREFORE THEY ATE MAN. BUT WHEN THERE ARRIVED A MAN WHO CAME FROM OTHER MEN WHO PRACTICED THE SAME HABITS AS THEMSELVES, THEY REJOICED, SAYING, HE TOO WAS AN INGOGO, BECAUSE HE DID AS THEY DID. BUT THE DISCERNMENT OF THE CHILDREN, WHO WERE ON THEIR GUARD AGAINST HIM, SAYING, “IT IS NOT AN INGOGO.” AND EVEN THOUGH THE OLD ONES WERE ANGRY AND BEAT THEM, THEY DENIED NOTWITHSTANDING THEY WERE BEATEN. THEY USED TO GO AND PLAY ON THE BANK OF THE RIVER; ON THEIR ARRIVAL THEY CONTENDED BY LEAPING, SAYING THAT HE WHO COULD NOT LEAP WAS NOT AN INGOGO; THE LITTLE ONES LEAPED TOO; AND IF THERE CAME A MAN FEIGNING TO AN INGOGO, THEY WOULD GO WITH HIM TO THE BANK, AND TELL HIM TO LEAP LIKE THEM; FOR IT IS SAID, WHEN THEY LEAPED THEY WERE LIGHT, BECAUSE THEY ATE RED EARTH.

THE IZINGOGO USED TO GO ON ALL FOURS; THEY HAD TAILS; BUT THEY TALKED LIKE MEN.

[ ZULU ]

THERE WAS ONCE a certain girl who loved a youth, but her parents said that they would not give her to him in marriage. He was always coming and begging them to let him marry her, but they would say, “We shall not give her to you.”

Now one day the girl came to him and said, “I have come to you to ask you to give me your knife so that I may go and kill my mother. Then we can run away to some other town and be married.”

But he said, “No, no, we must not do that.”

Again she came and said, “Give me your knife, that I may go and kill my mother.”

But again he replied, No, no, you must not kill your mother because of me.” And he continued: “Go home and stay there. Those who can give your parents presents can give you some also.”

Five days passed and then the girl asked, “Will you give me your knife to cut pumpkins?”

Now the boy had forgotten, and he pulled out his knife and gave it to her, and immediately upon receiving it, she went and cut her mother’s throat. Then she ran to the youth and said, “Now, you see I have done it. If we do not flee, you and I will be killed. Look at the blood on your knife; I have cut my mother’s throat with it.”

So they started off. The youth took a bow and arrows and sent the firl in front of him, and they escaped from the city.

They pressed on and on toward the forest. They slept there that night and the next morning they pushed on again. When they reached the centre of the forest, the girl was seized with an internal pain, and she fell down and died. Then the youth drew out one of his arrows and fitted it to the bow and stood and guarded her body.

Soon the beasts of the forest all assembled to eat her, but he would not allow them to do so, but said that nothing should touch her unless he should first be killed.

The eagle came and alighted in front of the youth and said, “Let us feast.” But he said, “No, no, did I not promise that I would not leave her?” Shall I allow you to eat her body?”

The eagle replied, “Do not put your trust in women, they are not truthful.”

But the youth said, “I do not agree, I trust this one.”

Then the eagle said, “Have you a flask?”

And the youth said “I have.”

The eagle said, “Give me it,” and took it and flew off.

Soon he returned with water in the flask and said, “Have you a knife?” And the youth said, “Yes.”

Then the eagle said, “Separate her teeth.” And he plucked out two feathers from his wings and stirred them around in the water. So the girl’s mouth was opened, the water was poured in, and immediately the girl rose up.

Then the eagle said to the youth, “See these feaathers – keep them, some day when you have gone to another city and have obtained something to eat, you will repay is for our feast which was have lost today.”

Sp the youth and the girl went off again and reached a city. They came to the house of an old woman which they entered, and they remained there until the afternoon. They even slept there.

The next morning they heard weeping, and they were told that the king’s mother had died. Then the youth arose and said, “Let me go and see what can be done.” So he started off, and came to where the desth had taken place, and when he had come, he went up to a man and said, “Can you obtain for me an interview with the king?”

“The king’s heart is broken,” the man replied. “Is anyone going to bother him now?”

But another one said, “Here, do you know what his business is? Go and ask the king indeed.”

And the king, when he heard, said, “Tell the youth to come.”

So he was summoned, and he came and said, “If I bring your mother back to life, what will you give me?”

then one of the attendants said, “Have you ever seen anyone who has died come back to life?”

But the king said, “Leave him alone, perhaps he has some magic.” and he continued, addressing the youth, “I will give you ten slaves.” He said, “See, this house also will I give you, and these horses.”

So the youth said, “Very well, bring me water in a flask.” And water was obtained and brought to him.

Then he walked around to the back, and said, “Now open the king’s mother’s mouth.” Immediately after the water had been poured down her throat, she rose up and remained alive, so the youth’s presents were brought and given to him. Then he returned to his house and remained in the town and, whenever anyone died, someone would come and summon him to give the dead person the charm so as to bring him back to life again.

Now after a time, one of the king’s slaves made the girl fall in love with him, and he said, “Look here, girl, since we know each other so well, will you not give me your husband’s charm?”

And she said, “Very well.” So when she went to bed and her husband talked, she remained silent; when he asked her anything, she did not reply.

Then her husband said, “What is the matter with you?”

And she replied, “Well, we have been together for some time now, but you have got something which you are keeping secret from me; you are always hiding it.” Then he said, “Is it only that which has made you so quiet?” Well, here it is; keep it for me.” And he gave the girl the eagle’s feathers. No sooner had she received them than she took a water-pot and said that she was going to the river for water. But instead of doing so, she went and gave the feathers to the king’s slave who took them to his house.

Soon afterward, another death took place in the king’s family and the youth was summoned as usual. He came and said to his wife, “Where is the thing which i gave you to keep for me?”

And she replied, “It is here somewhere, I put it just here.”

They looked but did not find it; they looked again but did not find it.

Now the king’s slave went and said to the king, “If I make him up again, how much will you give me?”

The king replied, “Everything that you want I will give you.”

So the slave said, “Very well,” and he made the dead man rise up.

When he had done this, the king’s slave asked that the youth should be seized and given to him for a slave. The king said, “Very well, go and seize him.”

So he went and caught the youth and took his wife for himself. The king’s slave bound the youth and out handcuffs on him and took him to the forest and made him clear the ground.

Some time later the eagle came to where he was and said: “Where is that which you promised me? I told you that the woman was not faithful, but you said she was. Now let me do you another good turn. Tonight, hold your leg irons up to your thighs and go into the city and find me a cat.” So the youth went and found a cat, and he returned and hid the cat until day-break.

Then the eagle came again and said, “The reason we sought you, O Cat, is that we want you to get us a mouse.”

The cat said, “Very well,” and immediately she ran in where the youth had been cutting wood and caught a mouse.

Then the eagle said, “O Cat, and you, O Mouse, you know the smell of my feathers. Take the road, go into the city, and enter the house of the king’s slave, and if the mouse sees any feather, you, O Cat, take them and bring them here.”

The cat and the mouse went to the city and entered the house of the king’s slave. The mouse looked everywhere, in the pots, in the quiver, but did not see the feathers, and he went outside to the cat, and said, “I cannot see them.”

Then the cat said, “Return, go and look again.” And the cat entered and cried out “Miyau.”

Then the sleepers said, “Thank goodness! She will catch that ouse which has prevented our sleeping.” So they went to sleep, both the king’s slave and his wife.

Then the mouse came and sniffed at the slave’s mouth and saw where the feathers were, and he said to the cat, “Here they are! I see them!”

“Where do you see them?” asked the cat.

The mouse replied, “In his mouth.”

Then the cat said, “Very well, go and bite him.”

The mouse went and bit the slave, and he went poof. The feathers fell out of his mouth and the cat caught them and took them to the youth in the forest.

The next morning the eagle came again and said, “Where are they?”

The youth replied, “See them.”

Then the eagle said, “Good! but let us have another understanding. Some day you must pay me back for my feast which I gave up.”

Now it happened that on the next day one of the king’s sons became ill and died, and the king’s slave was sent for and told to work his magic. But he said that he had lost his charm.

Then the king said, “Summon the other one to come. Here is a horse, go quickly and bring the one who is in the forest.” The youth was sent for quickly and was brought and when he had come, the king said, “See, we have summoned you. May God cause your power to return to you.”

“How can one who lives out in the forest obtain magic?” asked the youth.

But the king said, “For God’s sake, help us.”

Then the youth said, “Very well, but what will you give me?”

The king replied, “Everything that is in the slave’s house I will give you.”

Then the youth prepared his charm and raised up the dead man, and the king said, “Go and seize the slave.”

The youth went and caught the slave and his wife; he undid his own handcuffs and out them on the slave and his wife; he took another pair and out them on the wife; and then he took them to the place where he had been cutting wood and said that they were to stack it all in one place. Then he called to the eagle, telling him to come; and when he had arrived, the youth said, “Go assemble all your relatives; tomorrow we shall meet at the clearing.”

The next morning the eagle came together, all the birds assembled, and all the beasts of the forest also came. When all had arrived, the youth said, “Now set fire to the pile.” So they set fire to it. The fire consumed all the wood and left a great mass of embers. Then he said to the slave and his wife, “Get up and fall into the fire.” But they refused. Then he told his attendants to get up and drag them in; and they threw them into the fire. Every time that they got out, they were thrown in again, and at last they were cooked. The youth told the attendants to pull the bodies out of the fire to put them out in the open.

Then he said, “Eagle!”

And the bird replied “UM!”

“Now, see, here is your feast,” the youth said, and then he mounted his horse and returned to the city.

It is certainly true that women are not to be trusted.

[ HAUSA ]

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 ]