Category Archives: FOLKTALES

How a Hunter Got Out of Repaying the Leopard, the Goat, the Bush Cat, and the Hen*

MANY YEARS AGO There was a Yourba hunter named Sungor who lived in the bush. He killed plenty of animals and made much money. Every one in the country knew him, and one of his best friends was a man called Duai, who lived near him.

Sungor was very extravagant and spent much money in eating and drinking with everyone until at last he became quite poor, and he had to go out hunting again. But now his good luck seemed to have deserted him, for although he worked hard and hunted day and night, he could not succeed in killing anything.

One day, as he was very hungry, he went to his friend Duai and borrowed two hundred rods from him. He told him to come to his house on a certain day to get his money, and he told him to bring his gun, loaded, with him.

Now sometimes before this, Sungor had made friends with a leopard and a bush cat whom he had met in the forest while on one of his hunting expeditions; and he had also made friends with a goat and a hen at a farm where she had stayed for the night. But, though Sungor had borrowed the money from Duai, he could not think how he was to repay it on the day he had promised. At last, however, he thought of a plan. The next day he went to his friend the leopard and asked him to lend him two hundred rods, promising to return the amount to him on the same day as he had promised to pay Duai. He also told the leopard the, if he were absent when he came for his money, he could kill anything he saw in the house and eat it. The leopard was then to wait until the hunter arrived, when he would pay him the money. To this the leopard agreed.

The hunter then went to his friend the goat and borrowed two hundred rods from him in the same way. Sungor also went to his friends the bush cat and the hen and borrowed two hundred rods from each of them on the same conditions, and told each one of them that if he were absent when they arrived, they could kill and eat anything they found about the place.

When the appointed day arrived, the hunter spread some corn on the ground, and then went away and left the house deserted. Very early in the morning, soon after she had heard to crow, the hen remembered what the hunter had told her and she walked over to the hunter’s house but found no one there. On looking around, however, she saw some corn on the ground and, being hungry, she commenced to eat.

About this time the bush cat also arrived, and not finding the hunter at home, he too looked about and very soon he espied the hen who was busy picking up the gains of corn. So the bush cat went up very softly behind and pounced on the hen and killed her at once, and begun to eat her.

By this time the goat had come for his money; but not finding his friend, he walked about until he came upon the bush cat who was intent upon his meal off the hen that he did not notice the goat approaching; and the goat, being in rather a bad temper at not getting his money, at once charged at the bush cat and knocked him over, butting him with his horns. This the bush cat did not like at all, so, as he was not big enough to fight the goat, he picked up the remains of the hen and an off with it to the bush; and so he lost his money, as he did not await the arrival of the hunter. The goat was thus left master of the situation and started bleating. This noise attracted the attention of the leopard, who was on his way to receive payment from the hunter. As he got nearer, the smell of goat became very strong and, being hungry, for he had not eaten anything for some time, he approached the goat very carefully. Not seeing anyone about, he stalked the goat and got nearer and nearer until he was within springing distance.

The goat, in the meantime, was quietly grazing, quite unsuspicious of any danger, as he was int the compound of his friend the hunter. Now and then he would say “Ba!” But most of the time he was busy eating the young grass and picking up the leaves which had fallen from a tree of which he was very fond. Suddenly the leopard sprang at the goat and, with one crunch at the neck, brought him down. The goat was dead almost at once, and the leopard started on his meal.

It was now about eight o’clock in the morning, and Duai, the hunter’s friend, having had his early morning meal, went out with his gun to receive payment of the two hundred rods he had lent to the hunter. When he got close to the house he heard a crunching sound. Being a hunter himself, he approached very cautiously and, looking over the fence, he saw the leopard only a few yards off busily engaged eating the goat. He took careful aim at the leopard and fired, whereupon the leopard rolled over dead.

The death of the leopard meant that four of the hunter’s creditors were now disposed of, as the bush cat had killed the hen; the goat had driven the bush cat away, who thus forfeit his claim; and in his turn the goat had been killed by the leopard, who had just been slain by Duai. This meant a saving of eight hundred rods to Sungor, but he was not content with this. As soon as he heard the report of the gun he ran out from where he had been hiding all the time and found the leopard lying dead with Duai standing over it. Then in very strong language Sungor began to upbraid Duai and asked him why he had killed his old friend the leopard. He said the nothing would satisfy him and that he would report the whole matter to the king, who would no doubt deal with Duai as he thought fit. When Sungor said this, Duai was frightened and begged him not to say anything more about the matter, as the king would be angry; but the hunter was obdurate and refused to listen to him. At last Duai said, “If you will allow the whole thing to drop and will say no more about it, I will allow the the whole thing to drop and will say no more about it, I will make you a present of the two hundred rods you borrowed from me.” This was just what Sungor wanted; but still he did not give in at once. Eventually, however, he agreed and told Duai he might go and that he would bury the body of his friend the leopard.

Directly Duai had gone, instead of burying the body, Sungor dragged it inside the house and skinned it very carefully. The skin he put out to dry in the sun and covered it with wood ash, and the body he ate. When the skin was well cured, the hunter took it to a distant market where he sold it for much money.

And now, whenever a bush cat sees a hen he always kills it and does so by right, as he takes the hen in part payment of the two hundred rods which the hunter never paid him.

Moral: Never lend money to people, because if they cannot pay they will try to kill you or get rid of you in some way, either by poison or by setting bad jujus for you.

[ EFIK – IBIBIO ]

THE ORGIN OF DEATH II*

And how did it happen?

It is God who created men and women. And since God had pity, He Said, “I do not wish men and women to die altogether. I wish that men/women, having died, should rise again.” And so He created men/women and placed them in another region. But he stayed at home.

And then God saw the chameleon and the weaver-bird. After He had spent three days with the chameleon and the weaver-bird was a great maker of words compounded of lies and truth. Now of lies there were many, but of the words of truth there were few.

Then He watched the chameleon and recognized that he had great intelligence. He did not lie. His words were true. So he spoke to the chameleon, “Chameleon, go into that region where I have placed the men/women I created, and tell them that when they have died, even if they are altogether dead, still they shall rise again – that each man/woman shall rise again after he/she dies.”

The chameleon said, “Yes, I will go there.” But he went slowly, for it is his fashion to go slowly. The weaver-bird had strayed behind with God.

The chameleon travelled on, and when he had arrived at his destination, he said, “I was told, I was told, I was told… ” But he did not say what he had been told.

The weaver-bird, since he is a bird, flew swiftly, and arrived at the place where the chameleon was speaking to the people and saying, “I was told…” Everyone was gathered there to listen. When the weaver-bird arrived, he said, “What was told to us? Truly, we were told that men/women, when they are dead, shall perish like the roots of the aloe.”

Then the chameleon exclaimed, “But we were told, we were told, we were told, that when men/women are dead, they shall rise again.”

Then the magpie interposed and said, “The first speech is the wise one.”

And now all the people left and returned to their homes. This was the way it happened.

And so men/women become old and dies; they do not rise again.

[ AKAMBA }

The Handsome Ogre-Girl of the Pool

SOME MEN ONCE WENT out hunting. When they had walked some distance, they met a girl who was decked with chins that hangled to and fro. One of the men saluted her, and she returned the salutation. He said to her, “Give me food!”

“Take it, here is some!”

“I do not want any!’

“What do you want, then?”

“I want to take you home as my wife to out village.”

“Wait, then, and I’ll fetch my mother!” She called, “Mother!”

“Wau!”

“Here is a man who wants to take me to wife!”

The man saw how the water of a pool began to surge, and it rose up and down violently. He saw a head resembling a flame of fire appearing above the surface of the water. Then the man and his friends took fright and fled, throwing away their provisions and their bows and all their clothes. They ran to their camp and said, “In this neighborhood we do not wish to sleep. We are very frightened, and tomorrow we shall go back home.”

They returned home to their village and said to the people there, “We have seen a girl and her mother who live in the water. And the girl is very good-looking, but her mother, on! oh!”

“What does she look like?”

“She is an ogre!”

“Let us go and take that girl to wife; we are not afraid of ogres,” said some.

They got their equipment and set out into the wilderness. A boy who was quite small joined them. They remonstrated at length with the boy and told him to turn back, but he refused. They went on and came to the place where, on the preceding day, the other men in fright had thrown their things away. They said, “Never mind! Let us go on and bring the girls back home with us!”

They went on and found the girl. They greeted her: “Wakara, girl?”

“AAah!”

“Give us food!”

“There is food in the calabash.”

“We do not really want food.”

“What do you want, then?”

“We want to take you home with us to our village.”

“Well, wait, then, and I shall fetch my mother, so that she may see you!”

“Your mother, why should you call her?”

“I summon her so that she may come and see him who wishes to take me to wife.”

“Well, call her, then!”

“Mother!”

Wau!

“Come here that you may see the man who wants to take me to wife!”

They saw how the water began to surge, high, then higher. They saw a head looking out of the pool, and it looked like fire. They all ran away, only the small boy remianed. In their flight they threw away the calabashes containing their provisions. And they repaired to the camping-place from which they started. The ogre-mother pursued the men for some distance, and then she slowly returned and became very small. Then she said to the boy, “Good-day, son-in-law!”

“Aah!” said the girl

“I understand that some man wanted to take you to wife, but this one is a child,” the ogress said to her daughter.

The boy said, “So I am, mother, but never mind that!”

“Well, sit down, then, and talk with your wife, and come tonight over there to my hut.”

When evening arrived, the wife said to him, “Get up and let go to the hut!”

“But where are we to sleep? Will that be in the water?”

“There is a hut.” She took him by the arm. “Close your eyes! And opne them when we are inside the hut!”

The boy shut his eyes and then opened them again, and found that he was in a hut free from water. And the woman, his mother-in-law, was sitting there weaving a bag and looking like a Kamba woman. She said to him, “You go and lie down on the bed over there and sleep!” And they went and lay down. And in the morning they went to the garden. The boy went to make a new garden for his mother-in-law. When he came back, she asked, “Do you wish to return home?”

“Yes!”

“Then take your belongings and be off!” And to her daughter she said, “In case, when you get home, your husband should happen to die, you must give instructions that he is not to be buried, but that they must throw him outside. And when he begins to putrefy, you are to take a maggot which you shall put into a honey jar. That maggot you must smear every day with fat. You must go on smearing it with fat and, eventually, it will grow into a child. That child you must go on smearing with fat, and then it will increase in gowth, and you must give it milk. And by and by you will see that it is your husband who has returned.”

“I will do as you say,” answered the girl. The next morning they returned to the husband’s home.

When the people saw the boy arriving with the girl, they wailed and said, “Alas, alas! That beautiful girl has become the wife of a child. Has anyone ever seen the like.” And they looked about for medicine to kill the boy, but found that they were unable to kill him in that manner. Then they said, “We will show you something else.”

And they took their bows and went to hunt bush buck. The boy’s brother went and took up his station for the hunt in a spot out in the wilderness, and the boy placed himself opposite him. The brother shot him. Then he called for help, “Come here, all of you! I happened to shoot Syani when I aimed to kill a bush buck.”

“Seeing it was you who did it, there can be no case against you, as you were his brother.” They put the body of the boy down in the wilderness and returned home.

In the evening they said to the girl, “Syani is dead.”

She asked, “In what way was he killed?”

“By his brother.”

She wailed a great deal. Then she ceased, and asked the brother, “How did you manage to kill him?”

“I was aiming to kill a bush buck.”

“Well, I do not care for other men. I am going to live alone.”

She wept for two months. After that she asked where they had put her husband in the wilderness. She went there and found a maggot. She took it, brought it home, and put it into a honey jar. She smeared it with fat and continued to do so daily. It grew into ad and could grow no further within the jar. Then she took the child out and out it underneath her bed-stead in the we. Here husband’s brother lived there in the hut, but they did not sleep together.

The boy grew apace. She made food for him and brought it to him under the bed. The man asked her, “Who is it that you are feeding over there underneath the bed?”

“It is rats, it is just rats that are always hanging about there.”

One day the boy went outside the hut, and then she noticed that he had grown into a big man. She gave him sword, quiver, and bow, and said to him, “It was this child that was killed when they were hunting bush buck. Tonight he will take revenge.”

“Good!”

Now the brother had gone to drink beer at some villages far away. He returned in the evening, speaking with the beer. As he reached the gate of his fence, he heard someone talking with the wife within. He said, “Who is that?”

The wife answered, “Come here, and you will see him!”

He took his stick in order to beat the man. He walked in, and when he got to the door of the hut, he was shot by the brother to the ground, was slashed with the sword, and died.

The next morning the husband and his wife moved away from the place. They went and settled at a place called Kavithe.

[ AKAMBA ]

THE ADVENTURES OF MRILE

IN THE COURSE OF TIME, a man had three sons. Once, the oldest one went with his mother to dig up eddos tubers. As they were thus occupied, he saw a seed-bulb. And he said, “Why, there is a seed-bulb as handsome as my little brother.” But his mother said to him, “How can a seed-bulb be as handsome as a human child?” He, however, hid the seed-bulb, and the mother tied up the eddos to carry them home. The boy hid the seed-bulb in the hollow of a tree and, using a magic formula, said, “Msura Kwivire-vire tsa kambingu na kasanga.”

The following day he went there again. The seedling had now become a child. Whenever his mother cooked food, he carried some to it, again and again. Every day he carried food there, but he himself grew leaner and leaner. His father and mother noticed how lean he had grown and asked him, “Son, what is it that makes you so lean? Where is the food going that we always cook for you? Your younger brothers have not become so lean!” Then one of his younger brothers decided to watch the food being cooked. He saw his older brother receive his share severed on a plate, and that he did not eat it but carried it away as though to save it. His brothers followed him at a distance to spy on him and saw how he put it into the hollow of a tree. thereupon they returned home and said to their mother, “We saw how our brother out the food there into the hollow of a tree and brought it to a child living there.” And she said to them, “Whose child would inhabit the hollow of a tree?” Thereupon they said to her, “Come on, we will go and direct you there, you-who-have-nursed-us!” And they led their mother there and showed her the place. And behold! there in the hollow of the tree was a little child! So his mother approached the child and killed it.

After she had killed the child, the older brother Mrile carried food there as usual but did not find the child; instead he found it slain. There upon he went home and wept copiously. Then his parents asked him, “Mrile, why do you cry?” And he answered, “It is because of the smoke.” So they said, “Sit down here at the lower end.” Yet his tears still continued unrestrained. Again they said to him, “Why do you cry all the time?” And he answered, “It is nothing but the smoke.”” Then they responded, “Take your father’s chair along with you and go into the courtyard and sit down!” He took the chair, sat down on it in the courtyard, yet the tears continued.

Suddenly he said, “Chair, raise yourself up high like my father’s rope whereby he suspends the honey barrel in the virgin Forest and in the steppe.” About this time his younger brothers entered the courtyard. They saw how he was traveling upward the sky. They informed their mother, “Mrile has travelled up toward the sky.” But he said, “Why do you talk about your oldest brother traveling up toward the sky? Is there a road, you-who-have-nursed-us!” So his mother came to investigate and found that he had indeed ascended high up.

There upon his mother cried:

“Mrile return

Return, my child,

Return!”

But Mrile answered:

“I shall return no more,

I shall return no more,

Mother, Ah, I,

I shall return no more,

I shall return no more.”

Thereupon his younger brother cried:

“Mrile, return,

Return, our brother,

Return!

Come home,

Come home!”

But he said: “Oh, I,

I shall return no more,

I shall return no more,

My brothers,

I shall return no more,

I shall return no more.”

Thereupon his father came and spoke:

“Mrile, here is your food,

Here is your food,

Mrile, here it is!

Mrile,here is your food,

Here is your food!”

But he answered, saying:

“I want no more,

I want no more,

My father, Ah, I,

I want no more,

I want no more.”

Thereupon his tribal companions came and sang:

“Mrile, come home!

Come home!

Mrile, come!

Come home!

Come home!

Mrile, come!”

Thereupon his uncle came and sang:

“Mrile, come home,

Come home!

Mrile, come!

Come home,

Come home!”

But he sang in reply:

“Ah, I,

I shall return no more,

I shall return no more.

Uncle, Ah, I,

I shall return no more,

I shall return no more!”

And he disappeared, so that they could not see him any more

After a while, Mrile encountered wood-gatherers. He greeted them, “Wood-gatherers, good day! Please show me the way to Moon-King.” But they answered him, “Gather some wood, then we will direct you there.” So he cut some firewood for them. Then they told him, “Just go straight ahead, and you will encounter some grass-cutters!” So he went on and soon encountered some grass-cutters. “Grass-cutters, good day!” They returned the greeting. “Please show me the road to Moon-King.” But they said to him, “Cut some grass first, then we will direct you there.” So he cut some grass for them. Thereupon they told him, “Just go straight ahead, and you will encounter some tillers.” So he went on and soon encountered some tillers. “You who are tilling there, good day!” And they said to him, “First till for us, then we will direct you there.” So he tilled for them. There upon they told him, “Just go straight ahead and then you will encounter some herdsmen.” He went on and soon encountered some s=herdsmen. “You, tending the herd there, good day!” Good day!” Please direct me to Moon-King!” But they told him, “Watch the herd for us for a while, and we will direct you there!” So he helped them with the grazing for a while.

Then they said to him, “Just go straight ahead to the bean-harvesters!” “You there, harvesting beans, good day! Please direct me to Moon-King!” “Help us pick beans a little, then we will direct you there!” So he picked some beans. Thereupon they said, “Just go further along this road to the millet-reapers!” Soon he encountered some millet-reapers. “You, millet-reapers, greetings! Please direct me to Moon-King!” “Help us first reap some millet, then we will direct you there!” “Now go further along the road to the people who seek banana stalks!” These, in turn, he saluted: “You, banana-stalk seekers, greetings! Please direct me to Moon-King!” “Help us seek banana stalks first, then we will direct you there!” So he found them some banana stalks. Then they told him, “Just go straight ahead, until you come to the people who carry water!” “You water-carriers, greetings! Please show me the way to Moon-King!” “Go straight ahead to the people who are just eating in their houses!” “You, house-owners, greetings! Please direct me to Moon-King!” “Come, first eat something, then we will direct you there.”

After a while he encountered people who ate raw food. They were the people of the Moon-King. And he said to them, “Why do you not cook with fire?” But they answered him thus, “What is that, fire?” He said to them, “One cooks food with it until it is done.” Then they said to him, “We know nothing about fire!” And he said to them, “If I prepare you some tasty food by means of fire, what will you give me?” The Moon-King said, “We shall rent you large cattle and some small stock.” And Mrile said to them, “Good, gather a lot of dry wood for me, and I will bring you the fore.” So they gathered some wood, but they went behind the house where they were not seen by other people. Mrile, then, brought forth a fire-drill and a fire-board and struck fire, there, behind the house. They then lit the firewood and he placed green bananas in it for roasting. Then he said to Moon-King,”Try to eat these bananas which I have roasted in the fire.” Moon-King ate the banana and noticed how nice it tasted. thereupon Mrile put meat in to cook and said to him, “Now you must eat cooked for them all kinds of eatable things, all well done. Finally, Moon-King had the people called and he said to them, “A medicine-man has come from below there, from below there!”

Now Moon-King spoke, “Tribute shall be paid to this man to buy his fire from him.” Then they asked him, “What shall be paid you?” And he said, “Let one person bring a cow, another a goat, another something from the granary!” So they carried all these things to him. Then he distributed fire among them, whereon they went to cook their food.

After a while he reflected: “How can I reach home again, if I cannot send a message there?” So he ordered all the various birds to come to him. They came to the palce where he was staying. Then he spoke to Raven: “If i send you to my homeland as a messenger, what will you say when you get there?” Raven said, “I shall speak thus: ‘Coorooh, coorooh, coorooh!” So he chased him away. Then Rhinoceros-Bird came. “You, Rhiniceros-Bird, of I send you, how will you speak to them?” He answered, “I shall say, ‘Ngaa, ngaa, ngaa!‘ ” So he chased him away, and Hawk appeared. “You, Hawk, if I send you into the homeland as a messenger, what will you say?” Hawk answered thus: “Chiri-i-i-o!” So he chased him away too. Thereupon he spoke to Buzzard: “If I send you, what will you say?” Buzzard answered, “I shall say, ‘Cheng, cheng, cheng!’

So he chased him away. And thus he examined in turn all the birds, every species around there, without finding a bird who understood anything. Then, finally, he called Mocking-Bird. “You, Mocking-Bird, if I send you, what message will you deliver?” Mocking-Bird answered:

“Mrile will come the day after tomorrow,

The day after tomorrow;

Mrile will come the day after tomorrow,

The day after tomorrow,

The day after tomorrow.

Save some fat for him in the spoon!

Save some fat for him in the spoon!”

Thereupon Mrile said, “Well, that is good, go ahead!”

Then Mocking-Bird went and reached the gate to the court of Mrile’s father, and he sang thus:

“Mrile wants me to tell you:

He will come the day after tomorrow,

The day after tomorrow,

He will come the day after tomorrow.

The day after tomorrow,

Save some fat for him in the spoon!”

And Mrile’s father set out into the courtyard saying, “My, what is this being the shouts in the courtyard and tells me that Mrile will come the day after tomorrow? For, surely, he has perished long ago!” He drove him away and the bird disappeared.

Then Mocking-Bird went to Mrile and said, “I have been there.” But Mrile spoke to him thus: “No, you have not been there. If you have been there – what does one find there, in my Homeland?” And he said to him, “Go a second time, and when you get there, be sure to pick up my father’s stick and come back therewith, so that I can be certain you have been there.” So Mocking-Bird returned for a second time, picked up the stick and carried it to Mrile. The children in the house saw hime take it, but they could not snatch it away from him.

Then Mocking-Bird brought it to Mrile. Thereupon Mrile was certain that Mocking-Bird had really been there. Now Mrile said, “Well, I shall now set out on my journey home.” Moon-King let him go with his cattle.

So he started out with his cattle. On the way he grew tired. Now he had a bull with him, and the bull spoke to him and said, “Since you are so tired out, If I take you upon my back, what will you do?” If I take you upon back, will you eat me when they slaughter me?” And Mrile answered him, “No, I will not eat you.” So he climbed on the bull’s back, and the bull supported him. Finally he arrived, singing:

“No possessions do I lack,

The stock is mine, hae!

No possessions do I lack, The cattle are mine, hae!

No possessions do i lack,

The small stock are mine, hae!

No possessions do I lack, Mrile comes home, hae!

No possessions do I lack.”

And so Mrile came home. When he arrived at home, his father and mother smeared him with fat. Then he spoke to them thus: “This bull you shall feed until he grows old. Even when he grow old, I shall not eat his meat.” But said, “Should this bull, that my son has taken so great trouble with, be devoured without his eating therefrom?” And she his the fat, she hid it in the honey pot. When she knew that the meat had been used up, she ground flour, took the fat and added it thereto. So she brought it to her son, and Mrile tasted it. When he had tasted it with his mouth, the meat spoke to him: “Do you dare to consume me, me who have taken you on my back?” And it said to him, “Therefore be consumed, as you consume me!

Then Mrile sang:

“My mother, I told you:

Serve me not the meat of the bull!”

But when he tasted it for a second time, his foot sank into the ground. And he sang:

“My mother, I told you:

Serve me not the meat of the bull!”

Thereupon he consumed the meal completely. Suddenly, he was wallowed up.

And this is the end of the story.

[ CHAGA ]

THE ENCHANTED GUINEA-FOWL

A CERTAIN MAN Once upon a time set his bird line and sent his daughter, saying, “Go and look at my line while I go to dig.” So his daughter went to see the line. She found a guinea-fowl caught in it, and the guinea-fowl sang:

“Little girl, little girl, kirijakija,

What have you come to do?”

Then said the girl, “I have come to look at the snare.” And the guinea-fowl asked her, “Whose snare is it?” And the girl said, “I have come to look at my father’s snare.” Thereupon the guinea-fowl said to her, “Go and tell your father that I will bring a white bead and a white sheep if he will let me go.”

So the girl went back and told her father, and her father abused his daughter, saying, “You are a bad child,” and sent hi son instead.

So his went to look at his father’s line and he too found the guinea-fowl in the line. And the guinea-fowl asked him, asked him in song:

“Little boy, little boy, kirijakija,

What have you come to do?”

There upon said the little boy, “I have come to look at my father’s line.” And the guinea-fowl said, “Go and tell your father that I will bring a white chicken and a white sheep and a white bead if he will let me go.”

So the boy went back and told his father in these words.

Next the man sent his wife. His wife found the guinea-fowl, and the guinea-fowl addressed her in the dame terms as he had used to the children.

Then anger overcame the man, and he went himself and found the guinea-fowl in the line. The guinea-fowl addressed his same song as before. But the man seized the guinea-fowl firmly, and the guinea-fowl said to him, “Though you seize me, seize me: here in the evening I shall seize mine.”

The man then brought him home and plucked him. As he did this, the guinea-fowl said to him, “Though you pluck me, pluck me: here in the evening I shall pluck mine.”

The man cooked the bird, and the guinea-fowl said to him, “Though you cook me, cook me: here in the evening I shall cook mine.”

But her was cooked and ready to be eaten. Then the man summoned people, and the people came for food, came the they might eat the guinea-fowl which had been cooked. They all rejoiced with a careless joy and served up the guinea-fowl. Suddenly the guinea-fowl flew up with a quick flutter and these men were left with their joy.

Now if the man had been wise enough to take the white bead and the sheep and the white chicken, he could have eaten this guinea-fowl. This was the guinea-fowl of God.

[ LANGO ]

The Wonder-Worker of the Plains

ONCE THERE WAS A man and woman to whom were born first a boy and then a girl. When the bride-price had been paid for the girl and she was married, the parents said to the son, “We have a herd for you to dispose of. It is now time for you to take a wife. We will choose you a pretty wife, one whose parents are honest people.”

The son, however, firmly refused. “No,” he said, “do not bother. I do not like any of the girls who are here. If I absolutely have to marry, I shall choose for myself what I want.”

“Do as you will,” said the parents, “but if you are unhappy later on, it will not be out fault.”

Then the boy set out, left the country, and travelled far, very far, into an unknown region. Finally, he came to a village where he saw some young girls, some of them crushing corn and others cooking. Secretly he made his choice, and said to himself, “That one there is the one I like.” Then he went to the men of the village and said, “Good day, fathers!”

“Good day, young man!” they answered. “What is it that you wish?”

“I want to look at your daughters, for I want to take a wife.”

“Well, well,” they said, “we shall show them to you, and then you can choose.”

So they led all of their daughters past him and he indicated the one he wanted. She fave her consent right away.

“Your parents, we expect, will pay us a visit and bring us the bride-price, is that right?” asked the young girl’s parents.

“No, not at all,” answered the young man, “I have my bride-price with me. Take it; here it is!”

“Then,” they added, “they will, we trust, come latter in order to conduct your wife to you?”

“No, no, I fear they would only pain you with the hard admonitions they would give the girl. Let me, myself, take her along right away.”

The parents of the young girl gave their consent to this request, but they took her aside in the hut once more to give her advice on how to conduct herself, “Be good to your parents-in-law and take diligent care of your husband!” Then they offered the young couple a younger daughter who could help with the housework. But the woman refused. Two, ten, twenty were then offered for her to choose from. All the girls were first examined before being offered to her.

“No,” she insisted, “I do not want them. Give me instead the buffalo of the country, our buffalo, the Wonder-Worker of the Plains. Let him serve me.”

“How can you ask for him?” they said. “You know that our life depends on him. Here he is well taken care of, but what would you do with him in a strange country? He will starve, die, and then all of us will die with him.”

Before she left her parents, she took with her a pot containing a package of medicinal roots, a horn for bleeding, a little knife for making incisions, and a gourd full of fat.

Then she set out with her husband. The buffalo followed them, but he was visible to her alone. The man did not see him. He did not suspect that the Wonder-Worker of the Plains was the servant accompanying his wife.

As soon as they had come to the husband’s village, they were received with joyful cries: “Hoyo, boyo!”

“Now look at him!” said the old ones. “So you have found a wife after all! You did not want one of those whom we suggested to you, but that makes no difference. It is well as it is. You have acted according to your own will. If, however, at some time, you have enemies, you will have no right to complain.”

The man then took his wife into the fields and showed her which were his and which were his mother’s. The girl noted everything carefully and returned with him to the village. On the way she said, “I have lost my pearls in the field; I must return to look for them at once.” In reality, however, she wanted to see the buffalo. She said to him, “Here is the boundary of the fields. Stay here! And there, too, is the forest in which you can hide.”

“You are right,” he replied.

Now whenever the wife wanted any water, she merely went to the cultivated fields and set the pitcher down in front of the buffalo. He ran with it to the lake, filled it, and brought the vessel back to his mistress. Whenever she wanted wood, he would go into the brush, break trees with his horns, and bring her as much as she needed.

The people in the village were surprised at all these things. “What strength she has!” they said. “She is always back from the well right away; in the twinkling of an eye she has gathered a bundle of dry wood.” But no one suspected that a buffalo assisted her as a servant.

The wife did not, however, bring the buffalo anything to eat, for she had only one plate for herself and her husband. At home, of course, they had had a separate plate for the Wonder-Worker and fed him her pitcher and send him to fetch water. This he did willingly, but he felt pangs of hunger.

One day she showed him a corner in the brush which he was to clear. During the night the buffalo took a hoe and prepared a vast acreage. Everyone commented, “How clever she is! And how fast she has done her work!”

One evening the buffalo said to his mistress, “I am hungry and you give me nothing to eat. Soon I shall not be able to work any more!”

“Aie,” said she, “what shall I do? We have only one plate at the house. The people at home were right when they said that you would have to start stealing. So, steal! Go into my field and take a bean here and there. Then, again, go farther. Do not, however, take them all from the same spot, thus the owners may not be too much aware of it and will not fall over in terror right away.”

That night, accordingly, the buffalo went to the field. He devoured a bean here and there, jumped from one corner to the other, and finally fled back to his hiding place. When the woman came into the fields the next morning, they could not believe their eyes. “Hey, hey, what is going on here? We have never seen anything like this! A wild beast has destroyed our plants! One can even follow his spoor. Ho, the poor land!” So they ran back and told the story in the village.

In the evening, the young woman said to the buffalo, “To be sure, they were very much terrified, but not too much, nevertheless. They did not fall on their backs. So keep on stealing tonight! And so it continued. The owners of the devastated fields cried out loud and then turned to the men and asked them to summon the watchmen with their guns.

Now, the husband of the young woman was a very good marksman. He, therefore, hid in an ambush in his field and waited. The buffalo, however, thought that someone might be lying in wait for him where he had stolen the night before, so he went to his mistress’s beans, the place where he had pastured the first time.

“Say,” cried the man, “this is a buffalo! One has never seen any like him here. This is a strange animal, indeed.” He fired. The bullet entered the temple of the buffalo, close to the ear, and came out exactly opposite on the other side. The Wonder-Worker of the Plains turned one somersault and fell dead.

“That was a good shot! exclaimed the hunter and announced it to the village

But the woman now began to cry out in pain and writhe. Oh, I have stomach-aches, on, oh!”

“calm yourself,” she was told. She seemed sicj, but in reality she only wanted to explain why she was crying thus, and why she was so terrified when she heard of the buffalo’s death. She was given medicine, but she poured it out when nobody else saw her.

Now everyone set out, women with baskets, and men with weapons, in order to cut up the buffalo. They young wife alone remained in the village. Soon, however, she followed them, holding her belly, whimpering and crying.

“What is wrong with you, that you come here,” said her husband. “If you are sick, stay home!”

“No, I did not want to stay in the village all by myself.”

Her mother-in-law scolded her, saying that she could not understand what she was doing and that she would kill herself by this. When they had filled the baskets with meat, she said, “Let me carry the head!”

“But no, you are sick, it is much too heavy for you.”

“No,” said she, “let me do it!” So she shouldered it and carried it.

After they had arrived at the village, however, instead of stepping into the house, she went into the shed where the cooking-pots were kept and set down the buffalo’s head. Obstinately, she refused to move. He husband looked for her in order to bring her into the hut. He said she would be much better off there, but she only replied to him harshly, “Do not disturb me!”

Then her mother-in-law came and admonished her gently. “Why do you torture yourself?”

And she replied crossly, “Will you not let me sleep even a little?”

Then they brought her some food, but she pushed it away. Night came. Her husband went to rest. He did not sleep, however, but listened.

The woman now fetched fire, cooked some water in her pot, and poured into it the package of medicine which she had brought with her from her home. Then she took the buffalo’s head and, with the knife, made incisions in front of the ear, at the temple, where the bullet had struck the animal. There she set the bleeding horn and sucked, sucked with all the force of her body, and succeeded in drawing first a few lumps of clotted blood, and the liquid blood. Thereupon she exposed the place to the team which rose from the cooking-pot, after, however, smeared it completely with the fat that she had saved in the gourd. That soother the spot. Then she sang as follows:

Ah, my father, Wonder-Worker of the plains,

They told me: You would go through the deep darkness; that in all directions you would stumble through the night, Wonder-Worker of the Plains;

You are the young wonder-tree plant, grown out of ruins, which dies before its time, consumed be a gnawing worm…..

You made flowers and fruits fall upon your road, Wonder-Worker of the Plains!”

When she had finished her invocation formula, the head moved, the limbs grew again, the buffalo came to life once more, shook his ears and horns, rose up, and stretched his limbs….

But at this point the man, who could not sleep in the hut, stepped out and said, “why does my wife have to cry so long? I must see why she pours out all these sighs!” He entered the shed and called for her, nut in great anger she replied, “leave me alone!” Thereupon, however, the buffalo head fell to the ground again, dead, pierced as before.

The man returned to the hut; he had understood nothing of all this and had seen nothing. Once again the woman took the pot, cooked the medicine, made the incisions, placed the bleeding horn in the proper spot, exposed the wound to the steam, and sang as before:

“Ah, my father, Wonder-Worker of the Plains,

Indeed they have told me: You would go through the deep darkness; that in all directions you would stumble through the night, Wonder-Worker of the Plains.

You are the young wonder-tree plant, grown out of ruins, which dies before its time, consumed by a gnawing worm…..

You made flowers and fruit fall upon your road, Wonder-Worker of the Plains!”

Once again, the buffalo rose up, his limbs grew together again, he felt himself coming to life, shook his ears and horns, stretched himself – but then again came the man, disquieted, in order to see what his wife was doing. Then she became very angry with him, but he settled down in the shed in order to watch what was going on. Now she took her fire, her cooking pot and all the other things and went out. She pulled up grass to kindle the embers and began for the third time to resuscitate the buffalo.

Morning had already broken when her mother-in-law came – and once more the head fell to the ground. Day came, and the buffalo’s wound began to grow worse.

Finally, she said to all of them, “I would like to go bathing in the lake all alone.”

They answered her, “but how will you get there since you are sick?”

She went on her way anyhow and then came back and said, “On my way I came upon someone from home. He told me that my mother is very, very sick. I told him to come here to the village but he refused and said, ‘They would offer me food and that would only delay me.’ He went on right away and added that I should hurry lest my mother die before my arrival. Therefore, good-bye, I am going away!”

Of course, ll this was a lie. She had thought of the idea of going to the lake so that she could invent this story and have a reason for carrying the news of the buffalo’s death to her people.

She went off, carrying the basket on her head and singing all along the road the end of the song about the Wonder-Worker of the Plains. Wherever she passed, the people would band together behind her to accompany her into her village. Arrived there, she announced to them that the buffalo no longer lived.

Then they sent out messengers in all directions in order to gather together the inhabitants of the country. They reproached the young woman earnestly, saying, “Do you see now? We told you so. But you refused all the young girls and wanted absolutely to have the buffalo. Now you have killed all of us!”

Things had advanced thus far when the man, who had followed his wife into the village, also arrived. He rested his gun against a tree trunk and sat down. They greeted him by shouting, “Be saluted, criminal, be saluted! You have killed us all!” He did not understand this and wondered how one could call him a murderer and a criminal.

“To be sure, I have killed a buffalo,” Said he, “but the is all.”

“Yes, but this buffalo was your wife’s assistant. He drew water for her, cut wood, worked in the field.”

completely stunned, the man said, “Why did you not let me know that? I would not have killed him then.”

“That is how it is,” they added. “The lives of all of us depended on him.”

Thereupon all of the people began to cut their own throats. First, the young woman, who, as she did it, called out:

“Ah, my father, Wonder-Worker of the plains!”

Then came her parents, brothers, sisters, one after the other.

The first one said:

“You shall go through darkness!”

The next:

“You shall stumble through the night in all directions!”

The next:

“You are the young wonder-tree plant which dies before its time.”

The next:

“You made flowers and fruit fall upon your road!”

All cut their throats and they even slew the little children who were still being carried in skins upon the back. “Why should we let them live,” They said, “since they would only lose their minds!”

The man returned home and told his people how, by shooting the buffalo, he had killed them all. His parents said to him, “Do you see now? Did we not tell you that misfortune would come to you? When we offered a fitting and wise woman for you, you wanted to act according to your own desire. Now you have lost your fortune. Who will give it back to you, since the are all dead, all of your wife’s relatives, to whom you have given your money!”

This is the end.

[ BARONGA ]

UNTOMBINDE, the TALL MAIDEN

THE DAUGHTER OF THE KING Usikulumi said, “Father, I am going to the Llulange next year.” Her father said, “Nothing goes to that place and comes back again: it goes there for ever.” She came again the next year and said, “Father, I am going to the Llulange. Mother, I am going to the Llulange.” He said, “nothing goes to that place and comes back again: it goes there for ever.” Another year came round. She said, “Father, I am going to the Llulange.” She said, “Mother, I am going to the Llulange.” They said, “To the Llulange nothing goes and returns again: it goes there for ever.” The father and mother at last consented to let Untombinde go.

She collected a hundred virgins on one side of the road, and a hundred on the other. So they went on their way. They met some merchants. The girls came and stood on each side of the path, on this side and that. They said, “Merchants, tell us which is the prettiest girl here; for we are two wedding companies.” The merchants said, “You are beautiful, Utinkabazana; but you are not equal to Untombinde, the king’s child, who is like a spread-out surface of good green grass; who is like fat for cooking; who is like a goat’s gall-bladder!” The marriage company of Utinkabazana killed these merchants.

They arrived at the river Llulange. They had put on bracelets and ornaments for the breast, and collars, and petticoats ornamented with brass beads. They took them off, and placed them on the banks of the pool of the Llulange. They went in, and both marriage companies sported in the water. When they had sported a while, a little girl went out first and found nothing there, neither the collars, nor the ornaments for the breast, nor the bracelets, nor the petticoats ornamented with brass beads. She said, “Come out; the things are no longer here.” All went out. Utombinde, the princess, said, “What can we do?” One of the girls said, “Let us petition. The things have been taken away by the Isikqukqumadevu.” Another said, “You, Isikqukqumadevu, give me my things, that I may depart. I have been brought into this trouble by Untombinde, the king’s child, who said, ‘Men bathe in the great pool: our first fathers bathed there.’ Is it I who bring down upon you the Intontela?” The Isikqukqumadevu gave her the petticoat. Another girl began, and besought the Isikqukqumadevu: she said, “You, Isikqukqumadevu, just give me my things, that I may depart. I have been brought into this trouble by Untombinde, the king’s child; she said, ‘At the great pool men bathe: our first fathers used to bathe there.’ Is it I who have brought down upon you Intontela?” The whole marriage company began until every one of them had done the same. There remained Untombinde, the king’s child, only brought into this trouble by Utombinde, the king’s child; she said, ‘At the great pool men bathe: our first fathers used to bathe there.’ Is it I who have brought down upon you Intontela?”

The marriage party said, “Beseech Usikqukqumadevu, Utombinde.” She refused, and said, “I will never beseech the Isikqukqumadevu, I being the king’s child.” The Isikqukqumadevu seized her, and put her into the pool.

The other girls cried, and cried, and then went home. When they arrived, they said, Untombinde has been taken away by the Isikqukqumadevu.” Her father said, “A long time ago I told Untombinde so; I refused her, saying, ‘To the Llulange, nothing goes to that place and returns again: it goes there for ever.’ Behold, she goes there for ever.”

The king mustered the troops of young men, and said, “Go and fetch the Isikqukqumadevu, which has killed Untombinde.” The troops came to the river, and fell in with it, it having already come out of the water, and being now on the bank. It was as big as a mountain. It came and swallowed all that army; and then it went to the very village of the king; it came, and swallowed up all men and dogs; it swallowed them up, the whole country, together with the cattle. It swallowed up two children in that country; they were twins, beautiful children, and much beloved.

But the father escaped from that house; and he went, taking two clubs, saying, “It is I who will kill the Isikqukqumadevu.” And he took his large spear and went on his way. He met with some buffalo, and said “Whither has Isikqukqumadevu gone? She has gone away with my children.”The Buffalo said, “You are seeking Unomabunge, O-gaul’-iminga. Forward! Forward! Mametu!” He then met with some leopards, and said, I am looking for Isikqukqumadevu, who has gone for Unomabunge, O-gaul’-iminga, O-nsiba-zimak-qembe. Forward! Forward! Mametu!” Then he met with an elephant, and said, “I inquire for Isikqukqumadevu, who has gone away with my children. It said, “You mean Unomabunge, O-gaul’-iminga, O-nsiba-bunge herself: the men found her crouched down, being as big as a mountain. And he said, “I am seeking Isikqukqumadevu, who is taking away my children.” And he said, “You are seeking Unomabunge; you are seeking O-gual’iminga, O-nsiba-zimakqembe. Forward! Forward! Mametu!” Then the man came and stabbed the lump; and so the Isikqukqumadevu died.

And then there came out of her cattle, and dogs, and a man, and all the men; and then Untombinde herself came out. And when she had come out, she returned to her father, Usikulumi, the son of Uthlokothloko. When she arrived, she was taken by Unthlatu, the son of Usibilingwana, to be his wife.

Untombinde went to take her stand in her bridegroom’s kraal. On her arrival she stood at the upper part of the kraal. They asked, “When have you come to marry?” She said, “Unthlatu.” They said, “Where is he!” She said, “I heard said that King Usibilingwana has begotten a king.” They said, “Not so: he is not here. But he did beget a son; but when he was a boy he was lost.” The mother wept, saying, “What did the damsel hear reported? I gave birth to one child; he was lost: there was no other!” The girl remained. The father, the king, said, “Why has she remained?” The people said, “Let her depart.” The king again said, “Let her stay, since there are sons of mine here; she shall become their wife.” The people said, “Let her stay with the mother.” The mother refused, saying, “Let her have a house built for her.” Untombinde therefore had a house built.

It came to pass that, when the house was built, the mother put in it sour milk, and meat, and beer. The girl said, “Why do you put this here?” She said, “I used to place it even before you came.” The girl was silent, and lay down. And in the night Unthlatu came; he took out from the sour milk, he ate the meat, and drank the beer. He stayed a long time, and then went out.

In the morning Utombinde uncovered the sour milk: she found some had been taken out; she uncovered the meat: she saw that it had been eaten; she uncovered the beer: she found that it had been drunk. She said, “O, Mother placed this food here. It will be said that I have stolen it.” The mother came in; she uncovered the food, and said, “What has eaten it?” She said, “I do not know. I too saw that it had been eaten.” She said, Did you not hear the man?” She said, “No.”

The sun set. They ate those three kinds of food. A wether was slaughtered. There was placed meat; there was placed sour milk; and there was placed beer in the house. It became dark, and Untombinde lay down. Unthlatu came in; he felt the damsel’s face. She awoke. He said, “What are you about to do here?” She said, “I come to be married.” He said, “To whom?” The girl said, “To Unthlatu.” He said, “Where is he?” She replied, “He was lost.” He said, “But since he was thus lost, to whom do you marry?” She said, “To him only.” He said, “Do you know that he will come?” He said, “Since there are the king’s other sons, why do you not marry them, rather than wait for a man that is lost?” Then he said, “Eat, let us eat meat.” The girl said, “I do mot yet eat meat.” Unthlatu said, “Not so. As regards me too, your bridegroom gives my people meat before the time of their eating it, and they eat.” He said, “Drink, there is beer.” She said, “I do not yet drink beer; for I have not yet had the imvuma slaughtered for me.” He said, “Not so. Your bridegroom too gives my people beer before they have had anything killed for them.” In the morning he went away; he speaking continually, the girl not seeing him. During all this time he would not allow the girl to light a fire. He went out. The girl arose, going to feel at the wicker door, saying, “Let me feel, since I closed it, where he went out?” She found that it was still closed with her own closing; and said, “Where did the man go out?”

The mother came in the morning, and said, “My friend, with whom were you speaking?” She said, “No; I was speaking with no one.” She said, “Who was eating here of the food?” She said, “I do not know.” They ate that food also. There was brought out food for the third time. They cooked beer and meat, and prepared sour milk. In the evening Unthlatu came, and felt her face, and said, “Awake.” Untombinde awoke. Unthlatu said, “Begin at my foot, and felt me till you come to my head, that you may know what I am like.” The girl felt him; she found that the body was slippery; it would not allow the hands to grasp it. He said, “Do you wish that I should tell you to light the fire?” She said, “Yes.” He said, “Give me some snuff then.” She gave him snuff. He said, “Let me take a pinch from your hand.” He took a pinch, and sniffed it. He spat. The spittle said, “Hail, king! Thou black one! Thou who art as big as the mountains!” He took a pinch; he spat; the spittle said, “Hail, chief! Hail, thou who art as big as the mountains!’ He then said, “Light the fire.” Untombinde lighted it, and saw a shining body. The girl was afraid, and wondered, and said, “I never saw such a body.” He said, “In the morning whom will you say you have seen?” She said, “I shall say that I have seen no one.” He said, “What will you say to that your mother, who gave birth to Unthlatu, because she is troubled at his disappearance? What does your mother say?” She replied, “She weeps, and says, ‘I wonder by whom it has been eaten. Would that I could see the man who eats this food.’ ” He said, “I am going away.” The girl said, “And you, where do you live, since you were lost when a little child?” He said, “I live underground.” She asked, “Why did you go away?” He said, “I went away on account of my brethren: they were saying the hey would put a clod of earth into my windpipe; for they were jealous, because it was said that I was king. They said, ‘Why should the king be young, while we who are old remain subjects?’

He said to the girl, “Go and call that your mother who is afflicted.” The mother came in with the girl. The mother wept, weeping a little in secret. She said, “What then did I say? I said, ‘It is my child who was lost, who had the smooth body.’ ” He then said, “What will you say to my father?” She said, “I will say, ‘Let the whole country brew beer.’ “

The father said, “What is the beer to do?” The mother said, “I am going to see the people; for I used to be queen. I was deposed because I had no child.” So the beer was brewed; and the people laughed, saying, “She sends for beer. What is she going to do, since she was the rejected one, and was deposed?” The beer was ready; the people came together; the soldiers went into the cattle enclosure; they had shields, and were all there. The father looked on and said, “I shall see presently what the woman is about to do.”

Unthlatu came out. The eyes of the people were dazzled by the brightness of his body. They wondered, and said, “We never saw such a man, whose body does not resemble the body of men.” He sat down. The father wondered. A great festival was kept. Then resounded the shields of Unthlatu, who was as great as all kings. Untombinde was given a leopard’s tail; and the mother the tail of a wild cat; and the festival was kept, Unthlatu being again restored to his position as king. So that is the end of the tale.

[ ZULU ]

TO WHOM SHE IS GIVEN IN MARRIAGE

THERE WAS ONCE a virgin named Botalub. To whomsoever they gave her 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 plantain, when behold, the little folk were sitting on the plantains. They descended and came and caught Botalub. They said, “You are the one who shakes your head, pusu! pusu! when they take you to give to give to anyone.” And the fairies caught hold of her and said:

“Come let us squeeze her.

We squeeze her, O!

We squeeze Botalub.

Come, let us squeeze her.

We squeeze her, O!”

Now, when the hunter to whom they had given Botalub heard Batalub’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 Batalub 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 and 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.”

The hunter went over to her. The 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 Batalub 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 ago.”

And, accordingly, the hunter went and cut bananas, and he took Batalub 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 Batalub 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, “Batalub 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 ]

IF SOMEONE DOES GOOD TO YOU, YOU SHOULD DO GOOD IN RETURN

IT IS SAID that once there was a female eagle and that in her wanderings she came upon a certain old woman who had a sore on her leg. And the eagle said, “Gracious me! That is an unusual kind of sore. With a sore like that, however hard you try, are you able to walk?”

The old woman said, “Oh, just a very little.”

The eagle said, “You people! Nowadays, if I were to do something good for you today, tomorrow you would do something bad to thank me.”

The old woman said, “Oh! I would not do that.”

The eagle said, “If you will not behave like that, I will help you.” After a pause the eagle commanded, “Shut your eyes, and then open them.”

And the old woman shut her eyes and opened them.

The eagle then said, “look at your sore.”

And the old woman stooped to look – not a trace of it remained. Then the eagle made her close her eyes again; she opened them, and she saw that all the forest had been cleared.

The eagle said, “Close your eyes again.”

The old woman closed them and then opened them, and she saw that houses were firmly built there. And the eagle made her close her eyes again. She opened them to see a town of large size. There it was – huge!

The eagle said, “Old woman, it’s yours.”

The old woman said, “Thanks, thanks! I give you thanks! What must I give to thank you?”

The eagle said, “I do not want even a trifling thing. As for me, all that I desire is that silk-cotton tree that stands there.”

The old woman said, “This thing you ask for – it is nothing – take it.”

Then the eagle flew off, alighted on the tree, and wove a nest and laid two eggs which she deposited in it. And she hatched the two eggs, and went off to seek for something for her children to eat.

Then the old woman’s grandchild, who lived with her, began to whimper: “Ehe! Ehe!”

The old woman said, “What’s the matter?”

The child said, “Let me chew an eagle’s child.”

The old woman said, “Where am I to get an eagle’s child?”

The small grandchild commenced again – “whimper! whimper!”

The old woman said, “What’s the matter?”

The child said, “Let me chew an eagle’s child, for if I non’t have one to chew I shall die.”

The old woman said, “Ah! Must this my grandchild die for want of an eagle’s child to chew? Go, take axes, and strike the silk-cotton tree and bring me the eagle’s children.”

The village folk went there, the axes sounded pinpin! pinpin! pinpin! It was just when the tree was going down, that the elder of the eagle’s children jumped up and stood on the edge of the nest and raised a cry. It called the mother:

“Sango, the bird e!

Sango, the bird, the eagle’s child!

Snago, the bird e!

Sango, if she went to eat, come back!

Sango, the bird e!

Sango,o! o!”

The mother heard that her child was crying; she rose up and the sound of her wings flapping was fa! She came, she said “Sanguri!” And the silk-cotton tree, which was nearly severed, came together again, and all the people who had been striking it were swallowed up. The eagle took the food which she had brought and gave it to her children. Then she bade them good-bye and said, “I am going. If the old woman comes to take you away, let her take you.”

And the old woman said, “Go and strike down the tree and bring the creatures for my grandchild to chew.”

And they went there a second time. Pinpin! pinpin! pinpin! It was just as the tree was to go to the ground that the eagle’s child came out and stood on the edge of the nest, and called its mother:

“Sango, the bird e!

Sango, the bird, the eagle’s child!

Sango, the bird e!

Sango, if she went to eat, come back!

Sango, the bird e!

Sango, o! o!”

It called its mother, and called, and called, and called – there was no answer – and now the tree spoke as it hit the ground. “Brim!” it said.

They took away the eagle’s children. They gave one to the old woman, but the one that remained flew away and alighted on a wawa-wawa tree. The first one the old woman roasted and gave to her grandchild, who added it to the roasted plantain she was eating

Not long afterward, the eagle came. When she reached the tree which they had felled, she saw one of her children sitting there. She asked it what had happened, and it told her the news. The eagle set off for the old woman’s village. When she arrived there, the old woman’s grandchild was eating one of her children. She said, Old woman, I congratulate you.” Then she came out from the old woman’s house and commenced her magic at the outskirts of the town. She said “Sanguri!” and every person disappeared; and again she said “Sanguri!” – the village once again became the forest. “Sanguri!” and the old woman’s sore came back. And the eagle said, “Old woman, you have seen.” That is why the elders say, “If some does good to you, thank him by doing good to him and do not return evil to thank him.”

[ ASHANTI ]