Mantis was speaking: “Now I want you, Ichneumon, to catch some fat sheep for my father to cut up for us and hang up to dry near the house. I do not feel like cutting any up, as I am still writhing with pain. The swelling must first disappear, then I, too, can cut them up, then I too. shall hang meat to dry at my house. Because I, too, want the sheep’s fat to be dry, that the women may render it, so that we may moisten the dry meat which we have been crunching. For the quagga’s meat was white with age and not tender. Now I want to cut up the old sheep, and let the young ones wait a little, for we shall not finish all these sheep; they are too many. I, furthermore, want Porcupine to go out tomorrow, when she has cooked and out aside the meat which she has dried. The Man yonder shall come and eat with me of these sheep, because I haver counted them and I see that they are plentiful.

But Porcupine said, “Do you really want me to go to the Man yonder, who eats bushes? He will come and swallow all the sheep, as they stand in the kraal. You need not think that even these bushes will be left, for we shall be swallowed with the sheep. A Man who devours things as he does – walks along eating the very bushes among which he walks!”

Mantis replied to her, “You must go to your other father, the All-Devourer, that he may help me eat up these sheep, and drink this soup. I have already poured away some of the soup, because I feel that my heart is upset. Fat has taken hold of my heart; I do not want to drink more soup. I want the Old Man yonder to come to drink it up. Then I can talk, for I do not talk now. Do you, therefore, fill the sack with cooked meat and take it. Then he will come; otherwise he might refuse.”

Porcupine protested again: “People do not live with that Man. He is alone. People cannot hand him food, for his tongue is like fire. He burns people’s hands with it. You need not think that we can hand food to him, for we shall have to dodge away to the sheep opposite. The pots will be swallowed with the soup in them. Those sheep will be swallowed up in the same way, for yonder Man always does so. He does not often travel, because he feels the weight of his stomach which is heavy. See, I Porcupine, live with you, although he is my real father, because I think he might devour me, and you will not devour me. Nevertheless, I will fetch him tomorrow, that he may come. Then you will see him yourself with your own eyes.”

Porcupine went on the morrow, carrying cooked meat. She arrived at her real father’s, the All-Devourer. There she stopped and set down the sack of meat. She said to he father, “Go! Cousin yonder invites you to come and help eat the sheep yonder, for his heart is troubling him. It is he who wants you to come. I have told you. Now I will go on in front, for I do not walk fast.”

She shook the meat out of the bag upon the bushes. The All-Devourer licked up the meat and the bushes with it; he just gulped down the bushes too. Porcupine slung on her empty bag, and went forward quickly. While she walked she gave directions: “You must climb up to that place from which I came; you will see the sheep standing there.” She went ahead in great fear of the All-Devourer, and was the first to reach the hut.

Mantis asked her, “Where is your father?”

Porcupine answered him, “He is still on his way. Look at that bush standing up there, and see if a shadow comes gliding from above. Watch for the bush to break off, then look for the shadow; when you see that, the bushes up there will have disappeared, for his tongue will take away the bushes beforehand, while he is still approaching from behind the hill. Then his body will come up and when he arrives the bushes will be gone all along the way to us. We shall no longer be hidden. Now I want Ichneumon to eat plenty, for of that meat he will never eat again and when the Man yonder comes, the bushes will be finished and the sheep likewise be swallowed up.”

The All-Devourer followed Porcupine’s spoor. As he went he ate up the bushes. He climbed up, finishing off the bushes, while his shadow glided up to Mantis’s hut. The shadow fell upon Mantis. Mantis looked at the sun. He asked where the clouds were, for the sun seemed to be in clouds.

Porcupine said to him, “There are no clouds there, but I want Ichneumon to go and hide this pot away for me, for the truly feels the shadow of the man coming yonder. It altogether shuts us in. The sun will seem to have set when he reaches us. His mouth sits black along there; it it not shadow, it is what the trees go into.”

Then mantis saw the All-Devourer’s tongue. He asked Porcupine, “Is your father holding fire in his hand, for a fire is waxing red yonder?”

Porcupine answered, “It is the Man coming there, whose tongue is red. He is night, therefore you see his tongue. We will get out of the way here. We will not hand him anything ourselves, but put down something for him, for his tongue would singe our hands if we held anything out to him. Therefore I want Dasse to hide the other pot that she may still have soup. For now she herself sees the stomach, it truly extends to either side of us. We do not hear the wind, because he comes; the wind does not blow, for he always makes a shelter when he stands. He does not sit down, he stands; he will first eat up the things around him for they are still plentiful. He has put a layer of bushes in the bottom of his stomach and he has partly filled it, but he has not filled it up yet. Therefore he is still seeking food. He is a Man who fills himself to his trunk. If he looks round and finds no food, he will swallow these people, for they invited him to come to food which was not sufficient to his hunger.

The All-Devourer arrived, and Mantis placed food for him. The All-Devourer gulped it quickly down. Then Mantis took soup and poured it into a bucket. The All-Devourer swallowed the bucket. A pot was still keeping warm. Now Mantis took meat which had been put away in a bag, he put it into a bucket, and pushed the bucket toward the All-Devourer. The All-Devourer put out his tongue and licked and scorched Mantis’s hands. Mantis pulled his arms quickly away and sprang aside, knocking against Dasse.

Dasse said, “Why does Mantis spring aside from the Man whom he invited to come? Porcupine told him not to give anything with his hands, but to put meat for the All-Devourer on the bushes.”

Mantis took meat and put it in the pot. He said to young Mantis, “O child, make a good fire for the pot. My hands are burning and keep me sitting where Grandfather scorched me. You can feel his breath which is hot. His tongue feels like that, too.”

Then Dasse said to him, “You ought to ladle out sheep’s meat and put it on the bushes.” But Mantis dod not hear, he sat spitting on his hands to cool them. He ladled out another bucketful. He again pushed the bucket to the All-Devourer. The All-Devourer licked his hands again. Mantis sprang aside, losing his balance, and tumbled into the hut. He got up, and sat licking, cooling his hands. He spoke to Ichneumon: “O Ichneumon, give me meat to cook, for you see it is as Porcupine told us, the buckets seem to have vanished.”

But Ichneumon said to Mantis, “Mother told you that it would be like this. You would not listen; you invited the big cousin whom people know, whom no one invites, because his tongue is like fire.”

Now Mantis called to young Mantis, “Go and fetch me the meat which Porcupine hid, for you see this bucket of meat has been devoured. You must look at the stomach.”

Mantis brought two buckets and ladled out the meat. Dasse nudged him, and he winked at her. He slung a bucket forward with meat in it, then he slung another bucket forward alongside of it. The All_devourer’s tongue licked his ear, and he tumbled into the hut.

Dasse spoke to him and he winked at her. She said, “O Mantis, leave off winking at me! You must feed cousin, whom you invited. You must give him plenty to eat; Porcupine told you that she did not want to fetch him, because his tongue is always like this.”

The All-Devourer gobbled up both buckets, he licked up the meat which was on the bushes of the hut and devoured it, together with the bushes.

Mantis then said to Ichneumon, “O Ichneumon, “O Ichneumon, you must cook at that other place, and bring the meat which is on the bushes, for the buckets here are all swallowed. I will give the Old Man a pot which is hot to swallow, for you see the bushes are all gone. I shall no longer sit and cook in the bushes, and when the wind blows.”

The All-Devourer stepped backward, he licked up Kwammang-a’s home bushes, he devoured them quickly with the meat on them.

Mantis spoke to Ichneumon: “O Ichneumon, quickly bring another sheep, you must cut it up quickly, for you see that the bushes have all been swallowed with all the meat.”

The All-Devourer asked for water. Mantis lifted up a whole waterbag and set it before him. The All-Devourer’s tongue took up the waterbag; he swallowed it with the water in it. He licked up a thorn bush.

Mantis then spoke to young Mantis: “You see, we shall not eat, for that thorn bush has been devoured, even though it has thorns.” Again mantis said to Ichneumon, “O Ichneumon, fetch that water there which is in the waterbag, for you see the other waterbag has been swallowed. Grandfather turns his head seeking for more water. He himself has devoured all the other things, he still seems likely to gobble up our beds. I shall truly sit upon the ground, if Grandfather eats up all the things in my hut.

The All-Devourer licked up Porcupine’s things; he swallowed them quickly. Then Mantis said to his son, young Mantis, “See, sister’s things there have been devoured; sister sits there on a bare place. All the sheep will soon be devoured.”

The All-Devourer looked toward the sheep, his tongue took up all the sheep, he swallowed them quickly, while they were still alive.

Mantis exclaimed, “Have no the sheep been quickly swallowed, even before I had cut them up as I meant to do? Alas, the bushes have vanished, swallowed up! We are sitting on a bare place. Alas! Now I lack my things which I brought, that I might possess them.”

Porcupine winked at Ichneumon. “O Ichneumon, I tell you, your younger brother must spring away. Father will be swallowed, if he goes on acting bravely like this; and Grandfather Mantis, the one who is talking, he will certainly be swallowed.”

The All-Devourer called out his name, He-Who-Is-a-Devourer-of-Things, whom Mantis had called to come to him. He said to Mantis, “O Mantis, bring out the things to which you invited me, the real things which I, a devourer of things should eat.” He advanced and burned Mantis with his tongue.

But Mantis said, “I who am Mantis who invited You-Who-Devour-Things to my home. You came and finished off my things.. You should not ask, seeking the real food to which I invited you, for those sheep which you have devoured were the food. There is no food.”

Thereupon the All-Devourer quickly devoured Mantis and Mantis was quiet. Young Mantis spring away and took up the bow. The All-Devourer looked toward Kwammang-a. Young Kwammang-a sprang aside and ran away. Mantis was quite silent, because he was in the stomach of the All-Devourer. The All-Devourer stood opposite Kwammang-a and said that he was really going to swallow his daughter Porcupine’s husband, even though he was handsome, yet he would swallow him, for he felt inclined to do so. He advanced and quickly swallowed his daughter’s husband with the bed on which he was sitting. All-Devourer’s stomach now hung almost down to the earth.

Porcupine wept; she stood sighing. The children came from afar. Then Porcupine asked young Mantis, “Are you a fierce man?” He was silent. She asked him, “Are you angry?” Young Mantis was silent, because he felt angry. She also questioned her son, young Kwammang-a. She turned as she sat, heated a spear, and asked her son, “Are you angry?” You must remember that Grandfather’s tongue resembles fire. I do not want you to flinch, if your heart is like father’s heart, ” Young Kwammang-a sat still; they agreed to cut his grandfather open.

She took the spear out of the fire and drew it, burning hot, along her younger brother’s temple. The fire burnt his ear; he sat still. She reheated the spear, it became red hot. She put the spear burning hot into her younger brother’s nose. Tears slowly gathered and stood in his eyes. She said to him, “A mild person is this, whose tears slowly gather.”

She reheated the spear and laid it, burning hot, on her son’s ear-root. Her son sat still. She heated the spear again, and said to her son, “Grandfather’s tongue is like this; I don’t want you to flinch from him, if your heart is like your father’s heart.” She took out the spear when it was red, and out it into her son’s nose. Then she looked at his eyes. They were dry. She said to herself, “Yes, a fierce man is this; that one is a mild man. This one if fierce; he resembles his father. That other one is a mild; he resembles his father Mantis. He is a runaway.” She said to her son, “Remember, Grandfather’s tongue is like this. You must sit firmly when you go to Grandfather.”

The children went in wrath to their Grandfather; they approached him as he lay in the sun. He arose, stood up, and waited. Young Kwammang-a said to the other, “Mother wished me to sit on one side of Grandfather, and you to sit on his other side. Because you cut with the left hand like your father, you must sit with your left arm, in which you hold the spear, outward. I will sit opposite on this side, so that I may have my right arm, in which I hold the spear, outside.”

The All-Devourer scorched young Mantis’s temple with his tongue. He walked forward, he scorched with his tongue the ear-root of his grandson, young Kwammang-a. He said that this little child really seemed very angry. He walked forward, and scorched the root of young Mantis’s ear with his tongue. Young Mantis sat still. All-Devourer went forward, and scorched young mantis’s other ear with his tongue. Young Kwammang-a looked hard at the other and signed to him to hold his spear fast, and he held his own well. The other also held his spear well, because he had said beforehand, “You must cut one side, while I cut the other side. Then we must run away, while the people pour out.”

He sprung forward and cut the All-Devourer; and the other cut him too. Then they ran away, while fathers poured forth. The sheep also poured forth, the buckets poured forth; his father sat on his bed; the pots poured forth; all things poured down. His grandfather doubled up and died.

Then the children said, “O bushes, we have cut you out. You shall truly become bushes; you shall again grow in your place; you shall be what you were before. The place shall be right again and these sheep shall wander over it. They shall graze over it, and again return to the kraal, which shall be as it was before. For that Man who now lies here, who ate up the bushes, shall utterly perish and disappear, so that the people may get dry bushes and be able to warm themselves.” Thus young Mantis spoke. He felt that he truly resembled his father, that his speech resembled his father’s speech. And it all came true.

Now Dasse gave Mantis water but said to him, “O Mantis, you must drink only a little!”

Mantis replied, “I am dying of thirst, I must drink up the egg-shell-ful.” He gulped all the water down and sank to the ground. Kwammang-a waited.

Porcupine said to Dasse, “Take that long stick lying there; you must beat your husband on the shinbone with it until he gets up, you must hold his face fast and rub it.” So Dasse took up the long stick and hit Mantis on the shin. He started up quickly and sat shivering.

Dasse reproved him: “I told you to drink only a little, because you would be like this, if you gulped down all the water; but you would drink nearly all, thus killing yourself, so that you fell down.”

Now porcupine gave Kwammang-a some water and said to him, “O Kwammang-a! You must drink only a little. You must put the water down soon – when you have just wet your mouth. You must sit down then and wash yourself a little, for you have just come out of the stomach in which you were. Then presently you can drink plentifully, when you feel that your body is warm.”

Kwammang-a drank a little, he put down the water quickly, and did not gulp it all down. He washed himself, drank again, and then drank plentifully.

His wife cooked the meat for him which she had kept hidden away. She had told Ichneumon to hide some for her, so that they could eat it after the children had dealt with the Man who was devouring them, and he lay dead. “We must eat here, for he lies yonder, where the children have slain him. Then we will travel away, leaving him lying outside the hut. We will move away and seek a new home, because the Man lies in front of this home. We will live in a different hut which we will make our home.”

Then they travelled away to a new home, and left the hut at which the Man who had devoured the people was lying. In this new home they always lived in peace.

[ BUSHMEN ]

The moon, it is said, once sent an insect to men/women, saying, “Go o men/women and tell them, ‘As I die, and dying live, so you shall also die, and dying live.'”

The insect started with the message, but, while on his way, was overtaken by the hare, who asked, “On what errand are you bound?”

The insect answered, “I am sent by the Moon to men/women, to tell them that as she dies, and dying lives, so shall they also die and dying live.”

The hare said, “As you are an awkard runner, let me go.” With these words he ran off, and when he reached men/women, he said, “I am sent by the Moon to tell you, ‘As I die and dying perish, in the same manner you also shall die and come wholly to an end.’ “

The hare then returned to the Moon and told her what he had said to men/women.

The Moon reproached him angrily, saying, “Do you dare tell the people a thing which I have not said?”

With these words the moon took up a piece of wood and struck the hare on the nose. Since that day the hare’s nose has been slit, but men/women believe what Hare had told them.

[ HOTTENTOT ]

Long, long, ago there was a great famine in the world, and a certain your man, while wandering in search of food, strayed into a part of the bush where he had never been before. Presently he perceived a strange mass lying on the ground. He approached and saw that it was the body of a giant whose hair resembled that of white men in that it was silky rather than woolly. It was of an incredible length and stretched as far from Krachi to Salaga. The young man was properly awed at the spectacle, and wished to withdraw, but the giant, noticing him, asked what he wanted.

The young man told about the famine and begged the giant to give him some food. The latter agreed on condition that the youth would serve him for a while. This matter having been arranged, the giant said that his name was Owuo, or Death, and he then gave the boy some meat.

Never before had the latter tasted such fine food, and he was well pleased with his bargain. He served his master for a long time and received plenty of meat, but one day he grew homesick, and he begged his master to give him a short holiday. The latter agreed, if the youth returned to his village and there persuaded his brother to go with him into the bush, and he gave him to Owuo.

In course of time the youth became hungry again and longed for the meat which Owuo had taught him to like so much. So one day he made up his mind to return to his master, and, leaving the village, he made his way back to the giant’s abode. The latter asked him what he wanted, and when the youth told him that he wanted to taste once more of the good meat, the giant bade him enter the hut and take as much as he liked, but added that he would have to work for him again.

The youth agreed and entered the hut. He ate as much as he could and went to work at the task which his master set him. The work continued for a ling time and the boy ate his fill every day. But, to his surprise, he never saw anything of his brother, and when ever he asked about him, the giant told him that the lad was away on business.

Once more the youth grew homesick and asked for leave to return to his village. The giant agreed on condition that he would bring a girl for him, Owuo, to wed. So the youth went home and there persuaded his sister to go into the bush and marry the giant. The girl agreed, and took with her a slave companion, and they all repaired to the giant’s abode. There the youth left the two girls and went back to the village.

It was not very long after that he again grew hungry and longed for a taste of the meat. So he made his way once more into the bush and found the giant. The latter did not seem over pleased to see the boy and grumbled at being bothered a third time. However, he told the boy to go into the inner chamber of his hut and take what he wanted. The youth did so and took up a bone which he began to devour. To his horror he recognized it at once as being the bone of his sister. He looked around at all the rest of the meat and saw that it was his sister and her slave girl.

Thoroughly frightened, he escaped from the house and ran back to the village. There he told the elders what he had done and the awful thing he had seen. At once the alarm was sounded and all the people went out into the bush to see for themselves the dreadful thing they had heard about. When they drew near to the giant they grew afraid at the sight of so evil a monster. They went back to the village and consulted among themselves what they had best do. At last it was agreed to go to Salga, where the end of the giant’s hair was, and set a light to it. This was done, and when the hair was burning well they returned to the bush and watched the giant.

Presently the latter began to toss about and to sweat. It was quite evident that he was beginning to feel the heat. The nearer the flames advanced, the more he tossed and grumbled. At last the fire reached his head and for the moment the giant was dead.

The villagers approached him cautiously, and the young man noticed magic powder which had been concealed in the roots of the giant’s hair. He took it and called the others to come and see what he had found. No one could say what power this medicine might have, but an old man suggested that no harm would be done if they sprinkled some of it on the bones and meat in the hut. This idea was carried out, and to the surprise of everyone, the girls and the boy at once returned to life.

The youth, who had still some of the powder left, proposed to out it on the giant. But at this there was a great uproar as the people feared Owuo might come to life again. The boy, therefore, by way of compromise, sprinkled it into the eye of the dead giant. At once the eye opened and the people fled in terror. But alas, it is from that eye that death comes, for every time that Owuo shuts that eye a man dies, and, unfortunately for us, he is forever blinking and winking.

[ KRACHI }

Once Long Ago, a daughter was born to Obassi Osaw, and a son to Obassi Nsi. When both of them had come to marriageable age, Nsi sent a message and said, “Let us exchange children. I will send my son that he may wed one of your girls, and you send your daughter down to my town, that she may become, my wife.”

To this Obassi Osaw agreed. So the son of Nsi went up to the heavens, carrying many fine gifts, and Ara, the sky maiden, came down to dwell on earth. With her came seven men slaves and seven women slaves whom her father gave to work for her, so that she should not be called upon to do anything herself.

One day, very early in the monring, Obassi Nsi said to his new wife, “Go, work on my farm!”

She sanswered, “My father gave me the slaves, so that they should work instead of me. Therefore seend them.”
Obassi Nsi was very angry and said, “Did you not hear that I gave my orders to you? You yourself shall work on my farm. As for the slaves, I will tell them what to do.”

The girl went, though very unwillingly, and when she returned at night, tired out, Nsi said to her, “Go at once to the river and bring water for the household.”

She answered, “I am weary with working on the farm. May not my slaves at least do this while I rest?”

Again Nsi refused and drove her forth, and she went backward and forward many times, carrying the heavy jars. Night had fallen long before she had brought enough.

The next morning Nsi made her do the must menial services, and all day long kept her at work, cooking, fetching water, and making fire. That night, again, she was very weary before she was allowed to lie down to rest. At dawn on the third morning Nsi said, “Go and bring in much firewood.” Now the girl was young and unused to work, so she went she wept, and the tears were still falling when she came back carrying her heavy burden.

As soon as Nsi saw her enter crying he called her. “Come here and lie down before me… I wish to shame you in the presence of all, my people.” Thereupon the girl wept still more bitterly.

No food was given her until midday on the morrow, and then not enough. When she had finished eating all there was, Nsi said to her, “Go out and bring in a great bundle of fish poison.”

The girl went into the bush to seek for the plant, but as she walked through the thick undergrowth a thorn pierced her foot. She lay down alone. All day long she lay there in pain, but as the sun sank she began to feel better. She got up and managed to limp back to the house.

When she entered, Nsi said to her, “Early this morning I ordered you to go and collect fish poison. You have stayed away all day and done nothing.” so he drove her into the goat-pen, and said, “Tonight you shall sleep with the goats; you shall not enter my house.”

That night she are nothing. Early next morning one of the slaves opened the door of the goat pen and found the girl lying within with her foot all swollen and sore. She could not walk, so for five days she was left with the goats. After that her foot began to get better.

As soon as she could walk again, Nsi called her and said, “Here is a pot. Take it to the river and bring it back filled to the brim.”

She set out, but when she reached the waterside, she sat down on the bank and dipped her foot in the cool stream. She said to herself, “I will never go back; it is better to stay here alone.”

After a while one of the slaves came down to the river. He questioned her: “At dawn this morning you were sent to fetch water. Why have you not returned home?”

The girl said, “I will not come back.”

When the slave had left her she thought, “Perhaps he will tell them, and they will be angered and may come and kill me. I had better go back after all.” So she filled her pot and tried to raise it upon her head, but it was too heavy. Then she lifted it on to a tree trunk that lay by the side of the river and , kneeling beneath, tried to draw it in that way upon her head; but the pot fell and broke and , in falling, a sharp shard cut off one of her ears. The blood poured down from the wound, and she began to weep again, but suddenly thought,”My father is alive, my mother is alive; I do not know why I stay here with Obassi Nsi. I shall go back to my own father.”

Then she set out to find the road by which Obassi Osaw sent her to earth. She came to a high tree and from it saw a long rope hanging. She said to herself, “This is the way by which my father sent me.”

She caught the rope and began to climb. Before she had gone halfway she grew very very weary, and her sighs and tears mounted up to the kingdom of Obassi Osaw. Midway on her climb, she stayed and rested a while. Afterward she went on again.

After a long time she reached the top of the rope and found herself on the border of her father’s land. Here she sat down almost worn out with weariness, and still weeping

Now, one of the slaves of Obassi Osaw had been sent out to collect firewood. He chanced to stay from his oath and came to a place near where the girl was resting. He heard her sobs mixed with broken words and ran back to the town, crying out, “I have heard the voice of Ara. She is weeping about a mile from here.”

Obassi heard but could not believe, yet he said, “Take twelve slaves, and, should you find my daughter as you say, bring her home.”

When her father saw her coming he called out, “Take her to the house of her mother.”

There she was resting, Obassi killed a young kid and sent it to Akun, bidding her to prepare it for his daughter. Akun took it and, after she had washed it, cooked it whole in a pot. Obassi also sent a great bunch of plantains and other fruits, and these, too, were arranged in orderly fashion upon a table before the girl. Then they poured water into a gourd and brought palm wine in native cup, and bade her to drink.

After she had eaten and drunk, Obassi came with four slaves carrying a great chest made of ebony. He bade them set it before her, opened it and said, “Come here; choose anything you will from this box.”

Ara chose two pieces of cloth, three gowns, four small loincloths, four looking glasses, four spoons, two pairs of shoes, four cooking pots, and four chins of beads.

After this Obassi Osaw’s storekeeper, named Ekpenyon, came forward and brought her twelve anklets. Akun gave her two gowns, a fufu stick, and a wooden knife.

Her own mother brought her five gowns, richer than all the rest, and five slaves to wait upon her.

After this Obassi Osaw said, “A house has been made ready for you; go there that you may be its mistress.”

Then he went out and called together the members of the chief society of the town. This was named Angbu. He said to the men, “Go, fetch the son of Obassi Nsi. Cut off both his ears and bring them to me. Then flog him and drive him down the road to his father’s town, with this message from me: ‘I had built a great house up here in my town. In it I placed your son and treated him kindly. Now that I know what you have done to my child, I send your son back to you earless, in payment for Ara’s ear and the suffering which you put upon her.'”

When the Angbu society had cut off the ears of the son of Obassi Nsi, they brought them before Obassi Osaw and drove the lad back on the earthward road, as they had been ordered.

Osaw took the ears and made a great juju, and by reason if this a strong wind arose, and drove the boy earthward. On its wings it bore all the sufferings of Ara and the tears which she had shed through the cruelty of Obassi Nsi. The boy stumbled along, half blinded by the rain, and as he went he thought, “Obassi Osaw may do to me what he chooses. He has never done any unkind thing before. It is only in return for my father’s cruelty that I must suffer all this.”

So his rears mixed with those of Ara and fell earthward as rain.

Until that time there had been no rain on the earth. It fell for the first time when Obassi Osaw made the great wind and drove forth the son of his enemy.

[ EKOI ]

EBOPP, the LEMUR, and MBAW, the dormouse, were making a tour in the bush. They looked for a good place to make a farm. When they found one, they cut down the trees and took two days to clear enough ground. After this, they went back to the town where the other animals lived.

The next morning Ebopp said, “Let us go to our new farms and build a small house.”

They did. Ebopp made his, and Mbaw his.

Now, before a new town is begun, a little shed called ekpa ntan is always made where the Egbo house is to stand. Ebopp and Mbaw accordingly set to work and built an ekpa ntan. Then they went back to their old town and rested for two days.

On the third day they went to work again. Ebopp worked on his farm, Mbaw on his. That night they slept in the huts they had built and at dawn started to work once more. When night came, Ebopp lighted a lamp and said:

“I do not want to sleep here. If we sleep here we shall sleep hungry. Let us go back to our old town.”

When they got there their wives cooked for them. Ebopp said to Mbaw, “Come and join together with me in eating.” So his friend came and ate with him.

Afterwards Mbaw said, “Let us now go to my house and have food there too.” So they went tither.

After they had eaten all that Mbaw had cooked, Ebopp went home.

The next morning he went to call for his friend and said, “Go and get young plantains to plant on the farm.” Both of them collected a great basketful and went to the place where the new farms were – Ebopp to his, and Mbaw to his. They worked hard.

At midday, Ebopp said, “Let us rest a little while and eat the food we have brought.” To this Mbaw agreed, and after some time they set to work again.

About five o’clock Ebopp called, “Let us go back now to the old town, for it is very far off.”

So they left off working and went back, but before they could get there night fell.

The next morning they took more young plantains and, again, worked hard all day. When it was time to go back, Ebopp asked, “How many of the young plantains remain to be planted?”

Mbaw answered, “About forty.”

Whereupon Ebopp said, “Of mine also there remain about forty.”

At dawn, the next day, they went to their old farms to get some more plantain cuttings. Then they went back to the new farms and began planting.

As soon as Ebopp had finished, he said, “I have finished mine>”

To this Mbaw replied, “Mine also are finished.”

Ebopp said, “My work is done. I need come here only for the harvest.”

They they both went back to their old town and told their wives. “We have finished setting out the plantains. We hope that you will go and plant koko-yams tomorrow. Try, both of you, to get baskets full of koko-yams for the planting.”

To this the women agreed and, when they had collected as many as were necessary, they set out for the new farms.

When they arrived, Mbaw’s wife asked the wife of Ebopp, “Do you think we can finish planting all these today?”

Ebopp’s wife answered, “Yes, we can do it.”

All day they worked hard, and at night they went home and said, “We have finished planting all the koko-yams.”

Ebopp said, “Good, you have done well.”

Now the name of Ebopp’s wife was Akpan Anwan. She and her sister, Akandem, were the daughters of Obassi Osaw. When she got home she started to cook the evening meal for her husband. As soon as it was ready, she placed it upon the table, set water also in a cup, and laid spoons near by.

They were eating together when a slave named Umaw ran in. He had just come from the town of Obassi Osaw. He said, “I would speak to Ebopp alone.” When Akpan Anwan had left the room, the messenger said, “You are eating, but I bring you news that Akandem your sister-in-law is dead.”

Ebopp cried out aloud in his grief and sent a messenger to call his friend Mbaw.

As soon as the latter heard, he came running and said, “What can we do? We are planting new farms and beginning to build a new room. There is hardly any food to be got. How then can we properly hold the funeral customs?”

Ebopp said, “Nevertheless, I must try my best.”

When Umaw got ready to return, Ebopp said, “Say to Obassi Osaw, ‘Wait for me for six days, then I will surely come.”

The next morning he said to Mbaw, “Come now, let us do our utmost to collect what is necessary for the rites of my sister-in-law.”

They went through the town and bought all the food which they could find. Then Ebopp went back and said to his wife, “I did not wish to tell you before about the death of your sister, but today I must tell you. Make ready. In five days’ time I will take you to your father’s town to hold the funeral feast.”

Akpan Anwan was very grieved to hear of this and wept.

Ebopp said to Mbaw, “We must get palm wine for the feast, also rum for the libations. How can we get these? I have no money, and you also have none.

Mbaw said, “Go round among the town folks and see if any of them will lend you some.”

Ebopp said, “Good!” He then began to walk up and down, begging from all his friends, but none would give to him, although it was a big town. At last he went down to the place where they were making palm oil by the river. Quite nearby lived Iku, the water chevrotain. Ebopp told him his trouble and begged help, but Iku said, “I am very sorry you, but I have nothing to give.”

Ebopp was quite discouraged by now and, full of sorrow, turned to go away. When Iku saw this he said:

“Wait a minute, there is one thing I can do. You know that I have ‘four eyes.’ I will give you two of them, and with them you can buy all that you need.”

From out of his head he took the two eyes with which he had to see in the dark. They shone so brightly that Ebopp knew they were worth a great price. He took them home and showed them to his wife and his friend Mbaw.

The latter said, “From today you are freed from all anxiety. With those you can buy all that is needed.”

The next morning they gathered together all that had been collected, the plantains and the two shining eyes. Ebopp. Mbaw, and Akpan carried the loads between them. They set out for the dwelling place of Obassi Osaw.

When they arrived at the entrance of the town, Akpan Anwan began to weep bitterly. She threw down her burden and ran to the spot where her sister lay buried. Then he went back and got his wife’s load which she had left behind.

The townsfolk said to Ebopp, “You have come to keep your sister-in-law’s funeral customs today. Bring palm wine. Bring rum also for the libations, and let us hold the feast.”

Ebopp said, “I have brought nothing but plantains. All else that is necessary I mean to buy here.”

Now there was a famine in Obassi Osaw’s town, so Ebopp put all of his plantains in the Egbo House. The next day he sent a message to Obassi Osaw to bring his people. so that the food might be divided among them. Each man received one plantain.

Then Osaw said, “All that you have brought is eaten. Of you cannot give us more, you shall not take my daughter back with you to your country.”

Ebopp went to find his friend and told him what Obassi had said.

“Shall I see the two eyes?” he asked. “They are worth hundreds and hundreds of plantains and many pieces of cloth, but if I sell them now, the people are so hungry they will give a small price.”

Mbaw said, “Do not mind. See, I will teach you how to get more sense.

“You hold me one in your hand, and it is a big thing like a great shining stone; but if you put it in a mortar and grind it down, it will become, not one, but many stones, and some of the small pieces you can sell.”

This Ebopp did. He ground up the geat bright stones which had been Iku’s eyes until they become like shining sand.

Then Ebopp and Mbaw went and procured a black cap which they filled with the fragments.

Mbaw said, “Now go and look the town till you find someone who can sell what we need.”

Ebopp did so, and in the house of Effion Obassi he saw great stores hidden – food and palm wine, palm oil in jars, and run for the sacrifice.

Ebopp said to Effion, “If you will sell all this to me, I will give you in exchange something which will make all the town folk bow down before you.”

Effion said, “I will not sell all, but half of what I have I will sell you.”

So Ebopp said, “Very well. I will take what you give me, only do not open the thing I shall leave in exchange until I have returned to my own country. When you do open it, as I said before, all the town folk will bow down before you.”

So the funeral feast was prepared, and the people were satisfied.

When the rites were finished, Obassi said, “It is good. You can go away now with your wife.”

So Ebopp said to Mbaw and Akpan Anwan, “Come, let us go back to our own town. We must not sleep here tonight.”

When they had reached home once more, Ebopp sent a salve named Eder to Effion Obassi with the message:

“You may now open the cap. I have reached my town again.”

It was evening time, nut Effion at once called the townspeople together and said, “I have a thing here which is worth a great price.”

They cried, “Let us see it.”

He answered, “My thing is a very good thing, such as you have never seen before.

He brought the cap outside and opened it before them. All the shining things fell out. As they fell, a strange breeze came and caught them and blew them all over town. They lay on the road and on the floors of the compounds, each like a little star.

All the children came round and began picking them up. They gathered and gathered. In the daytime they could not see them, but every night they went out and sought for the shining things. All that they picked up they put in a box. At length many had been gathered together and they shone like a little sun in the box. At the end of about a month nearly all had been collected. They could not shut down the lid, however, because the box was too full, so when a great breeze came by it blew all the shining things about again. That is why sometimes we have a small moon and plenty of stars shining around it, while sometimes we have a big moon and hardly any stars are to be seen. The children take a month to fill the box again.

When the sparkles were scattered about the town, Effion sent a messeneger to Ebopp to ask: “Can you see the things shining from you town?”

At the time earth and sky were all joined together, like a house with an upstairs.

Ebopp went out and looked upward to the blue roof overhead. There he saw the small things sparkling in the darkness.

The next day he went to Iku and said, “Will you please do into a deep hole? I want to look at your eyes.”

Iku went inside the hole. Ebopp looked at his eyes. They were very bright, just like the sparkles which shone in the sky.

The cause of all the stars, therefore, is Enbopp, who took Iku’s eyes to Obassi’s town.

Iku’s eyes are like the stars.

The moon shines when all the fragments are gathered together. When it shine most brightly it it because the children have picked up nearly all the fragments and put them into the box.

[ EKOI ]

,

The son of the wind was once a man. When he was he used to go shooting and to roll a ball but later he became a bird and flew, no longer walking as he used to do when he was a man. When he had changed into a bird, he flew up and dwelt in a mountain hole. The mountain hole was his dwelling, and out of it he would fly every day and later on, return. In this hole he slept and, awakening in the morning, he would leave in order to seek food. He sought it everywhere and he ate, ate, ate, until he had his full. Then he would return to his mountain hole to sleep.

But when he was rolling his ball, he called out to Nakati, “Nakati, there it goes!” And Nakati exclaimed, “O comrade, truly there it goes!” He called him comrade because he didn’t know the other’s name. Yet it was truly he who is the wind, who had said, “Nakati, there it goes!”

Not knowing his name, however, Nakati went to his mother to question her. “Mother,” he said, “do tell me the name of our comrade over there. He calls me by my name but I do not know his and I would like to know it when I am rolling the ball back to him.”

“No, I will not at this moment tell you his name, that I will only do and let you utter it after Father has made a strong shelter for our hut. And Then, when I tell you his name, the moment I have uttered it, you must at once scamper away and run home, so that you can seek the shelter of the hut.”

Again Nakati went over to play with his campion and to roll the ball. When they had finished, Nakati again went once more to question his mother, and she exclaimed, “He is erriten-kuan, he is gau-gaubu-ti!”

The next day Nakati again went to roll the ball with his companion. He did not, however, utter his playmate’s name, for his mother had cautioned him to be silent on that matter, even when he was called by name. She had said, “When the time comes for you to utter his name, you must run hime at once.”

Now once more Nakati went to roll the ball with his friend, hoping and hoping that his father would finally finish making the shelter for their hut. At last he saw that his father sat down, that he had indeed finished. Therefore, when he held this, he exclaimed, “There it goes, O erriten-kuan! There it goes, O Gau-gaubu-ti!” No sooner had he uttered it than he scampered away and ran home. His companion thereupon began to lean over, and then fall down. As he lay there he kicked violently upon the vlei. As he kicked, huts blew away, bushes vanished and the people could not see because of the dust. Thus was the wind blowing.

When the mother of the wind came out of her hut to grab him and set him on his feet again, he struggled with her for he wished to continue to lie down. However his mother took hold of him firmly and set him on his feet.

And so, because of all this, we who are Bushmen are wont say, “The wind seems to be lying down, for it is blowing fiercely. When the wind stands on its feet then it is quiet and still. Thus it acts. This noise it makes comes from its knee; that is what makes the sound. I had wished that it might blow gently for us, that we might go out, that we might ascend the place yonder, that we might behold the river bed yonder, standing behind the hill. For we have driven the springbok from this place. They have gone to yonder dry river bed standing behind the hill.”

[ BUSHMEN ]

The sky-god begat three children, who were Esum (Darkness), Osrane (Moon), and Owia (Sun). When his three children grew up, the sky-god made them go to separate villages. The first one built his village, the second one also built his village, and the third one, he too, built his village. And there they lived.

Now their father loved Sun most. And while the sky-god was reigning there, he blackened a stool and said to his attendants, “Who knows what my thoughts are?” Ananse, the spider, said, “As for me, I know them.” At the time when he said, “As for me, I know them,” the sky-god made all the attendants rise up. There and then the spider also rose up, saying he was going to the village of the sky-god’s children.

When Ananse reached the path, he said to himself, “I do not know his thoughts and yet I said, ‘I know them.’ ” And he plucked some feathers out of every bird, stuck them on himself and flew off, alighting on a gyedua tree in the sky-god’s village. And when the people saw the bird, they all made a great commotion which sounded like “Y-e-e-e-e!”

And the sky-god came out of the house and came under the gyedua tree and said, “Were Ananse here, he would have known the name of this bird. I had decided that Owia, Sun, is the one I wanted to make a chief, so I asked who knew what was in my head and Ananse said that he did. Now I have gone and pulled up the yam known as ‘Kintinkyi,’ and he who knows its name and utters it, to him I shall give it, my blackened stool. That is why Ananse has gone off to bring my children. Had he been here, he would have known the name of this bird.

Then the bird flew off, and Ananse pulled out the feathers and threw them away, and set out till he reached the village of Night. To Night he said, “Your father said that you must come with me.” And Night replied, “It is well, I and you will go.” Then Ananse said, “I am going on to fetch Moon and Sun.” But Night said to him, “Let me first seek for something to give you to eat.” Spider replied, “Ho!” Night thereupon went out and brought some roasted corn and gave it to Ananse. When he had finished chewing it, he set out for Moon’s village. When he reached it, he said, “Your father says you must came along with me.” And Moon replied, “It is well, I shall go.”

How did it happen? A wife was pregnant, shoe bore a child, Moon, to begin with. She returned, became pregnant again, and this time bore Sun. Far in the wilderness was a man, and he had a pretty daughter.

Sun and Moon grew up and one day went for a stroll. In the wilderness they came upon the pretty daughter, and they asked her, “Where have you got your house? We live in that wilderness,” they said to the girl. “Show us exactly where you live.”

She replied to them, “We live in that wilderness. And there a great many dangerous animals.”

Moon, the elder one of the brothers, said to the girl, “Do you like us? Shall we woo you?”

She said to them, “Yes, I am capable of liking you but may not.”

Sun then asked, “Who is it that does not like us?”

She said, “It is my father.”

Moon said to the girl, “Well, then, we shall wait for two days, and on the third we shall come to your village. We shall send our father’s children.”

They waited for two days, and on the third they sent the children, then they started out for the wilderness. And when they were quite close, they caught sight of the girl far off at the other edge of the jungle. They went to meet her and asked her, “Well, where is your village?”

She said, “Our village is here in the wilderness.”

They asked her, “I, I! Are there people that live in the place where is no hut?”

She said, “Yes, we live in the wilderness, we have no hut.”

They said, “We wish that you would show us where you live.”

The girl said, “All right, then.” And she went on ahead to show them the way.

A big snake then appeared. Sun and Moon said, “Let us not be afraid!” They were not frightened, but went along on their way. When they had got as far as the foot of a certain tree, they found a number of snakes confronting them; but they went farther along and came upon a place full of hairs like horsehair, forming a sort of darkness before them. Nowhere were they able to see any path to take.

Sun said to the girl, “You! Have you brought us here so we should die at your place?”

She said to them, “No, but we have not yet arrived at our village.”

And he, Moon, said to Sun, “Brother Sun, what are we to do now?” They said to the girl, “Tell us if you like us, and whether we are to woo you? We now wish to return home.”

They girl said to them, “Go, and come back the day after tomorrow!”

They went away and returned home.

They reached their home. And Moon loved the girl very much, more than Sun did. The following morning Sun went to herd their father’s cattle, and Moon hid himslef from Sun and went alone into the wilderness to seek the girl and take her to wife.

When he had got there, someone said to him, “Who is it?”

He said, “It is I”

He was asked, “Who are you?”

He answered, “It is I, Moon.”

He was asked, “Whither are you going?

He said, “I am coming hither.”

The other one asked him, “From where have you come?”

Moon said to him, “I come from our village.” And he added, “And you, what are you doing here?”

“I am not doing anything in particular,” said the stranger.

And I, neither am I doing anything in particular – I am just out for a walk,” answered Moon.

The other asked him again, “Why have you come here?”

“Not for anything special.”

The other mad said to him, “I, I? Not for anything special?”

Moon replied, “I, I! I did not come here for anything special! I have come here without any purpose.”

The strange man said, “Why do you ask me what I am seeking, but conceal and refuse to reveal your own business?”

Then Moon was frightened and said to himself, “I do not know these people, and they do not know me. I will return home!”

He returned home and said to Sun, “Brother, when I left you I saw a lot of queer things.”

Sun said to Moon, “Well, lets go some day and you shall show me those things; just now I am busy tending cattle.’

Their mother said to them, “Go ye and find the girl, I will do the hearding.”

They went, and when they got to the wilderness, they saw swords appearing. They fought against the sword but saw no human being. The swords disappeared, and they went on farther and saw trees which grew so densely before them the there was no path. Sun drew his sword and cut down some threes. The trees then disappeared altogether, and they did not see them again. They went farther ahead altogether, and they did not see them again. That went farther ahead and came to a pond; they were close to it. They saw teeth coming up out of the interior of the pond. They approached quite near. Two teeth passed right between them, one passed them to the left and another to t he right. Moon fell back behind Sun; he was frightened.

Sun said to him, “I, I Moon! Are you afraid? You are the elder one, go on ahead, let us walk on!”

“Yes, let us go on then! We are equally brave.”

Then teeth returned into the pond, and Sun and Moon walked on. When they had not got very far, they saw hairs coming up out of the pond. Moon looked at the girl’s father, for it was he, and said to Sun, “My brother, here we shall perish!”

“It cannot be helped!”

The hairs returned, however, into the pond. When they had got close to the pond, again Sun sat down on a tree at the edge of the pond together with Moon. The beard of the girl’s father came up to them but returned into the pond. Bones of dead people came up.

Moon said, “Oh! I am dying!” and suddenly he ran away.

Sun was left behind, alone there, sitting on the tree. The water rose, part of it came on one side of him and part of it on the other; it flowed all around him. He was sitting in the midst of the water, which presently returned to the pond. Sun did not budge from the spot. The water, however, returned to the river. Then smoke rose up out of the water. Sun said, to himself, “I do not intend to die here, although my brother got frightened and ran away. I am going to remain, so that I may see the girl” The smoke ceased, and the water flamed like fire. The fire, however, soon went out.

After that there came out of the water a human being – it was the girl! She came and took the young man by the hand and said to him, “Now we will go home to our place, and I shall give you food.”

The girl said to the pond, “Get out of the way for this man! I am going to cook food for him.” The water drew off the side of the pond, went over to one side.

The girl went and cooked food which she brought and gave the young man, and he ate. She said to him:

“I, it is you that is to take me to wife, because you are a man who is not afraid of anything. And you, now you are my husband because you are not afraid of all the things that were shown you, but your elder brother ran away.”

Then the girl’s father said to Sun, “Take the girl. When you have gone home you are to tarry there with her for five days, and then you yourself and your father are to bring the girl back here!

They started off. Moon had returned and sat down in the compound. He had a sword, and he said, “When Sun comes along with that girl, I shall kill him.”

Then the girl approached, and Sun was walking in the front of her. They came and found that Moon was in the compound. They asked him, “Moon, is there anyone at home in our village?”

“Sun, come here!”

Sun carried a sword. He went forward, and sat down. The mother came out and Sun said to her, “Mother, go and take the girl and conduct her into the village!”

The mother asked him, “This girl, is it you that have taken her to wife, or is it Moon?”

“She is my wife, Moon ran away.” Sun repeated: “Moon ran away.”

The latter grasped his sword. Sun looked up and saw the sword quite close to him, for Moon gave him a cut. And he, Sun, who also carried his sword, slapped Moon, and they fought. Sun was badly cut by Moon.

The mother cried a great deal. She took millet and all kinds of provisions and spoilt them for Moon. And she threw millet and all the other foodstuffs on the fire, saying, “You, Moon, have damaged Sun in this way. May you be destroyed in the same way! And the mother took some milk, and she and her husband poured it into a calabash bowl with millet and beer. Thereupon they blessed Sun, that he would shine brightly for mankind. The girl remained on in the village as Sun’s wife, but Moon had no wife, and he who had formerly been more brilliant than Sun no longer was so.

Ever since that time and even now Moon avoids Sun; they will not agree to approach each other at the same fire, nor to eat food together. When Sun goes down, Moon comes out; when Sun comes out of the village, Moon rapidly runs away. Is not that a curse? Moon has become small, and Sun has become big.

[ AKAMBA ]