Many years ago there was a great famine throughout the land and all the people were starving. The yam crop had failed entirely, the plantains did not bear any fruit, and the corn never came to a head; even the palm-oil nuts did not ripen, and the peppers and okras also failed.

The leopard, who lived entirely on meat, did not care for any of these things, and although some of the animals who lived on corn and the growing crops began to get rather skinny, he did not really mind very much.

However, in order to save himself trouble, since everybody was complaining of the famine, the leopard called a meeting of all the animals. He told them that, as they all knew, he was very powerful and must have food, that the famine did not affect him, as he lived only on flesh, and that as there were plenty of animals about, he did not intend to starve. He then told all thew animals present at the meeting that, if they themselves did not wish to be killed, they must bring their grandmothers to him for food, and that when the grandmothers were finished, he would feed off their mothers. The animals might bring their grandmothers in succession, and he would take them in turn, so that, as there were many different animals, it would probably be some time before their mothers were eaten. By that time it was possible that the famine would be over. But, in any case, the leopard warned them that he was determined to have sufficient food for himself and that, if the grandmothers or mothers were not forthcoming, he would turn upon the young people themselves and kill and eat them. For this, of course, the young generation, who had attended the meeting, had little liking, and in order to save their own skins why agreed to supply the leopard with his daily meal.

The first to appear with his aged grandmother was the squirrel. The grandmother was a poor decrepit old thing with a mangy tail, and the leopard swallowed her at one gulp and then looked round for more. In an angry voice he growled out, “This is not the proper food for me; I must have more at once.”

Then a bush cat pushed his old grandmother in front of the leopard, but he snarled at her and said, “Take the nasty old thing away; I want some sweet food.”

It was then the turn of a bush buck and, after a great deal of hesitation, a wretchedly poor and thin old doe tottered and fell in front of the leopard, who immediately dispatched her and, although the meal was very unsatisfactory, declared that his appetite was appeased for that day.

The next day a few more animals brought their old grandmothers, until at last it became the turn of the tortoise; but, being very cunning, he produced witnesses to prove that his grandmother was dead, and so the leopard excused him.

After a few days all the animals’ grandmothers were exhausted, and it was necessary that the mothers be sacrificed to supply food for the ravenous leopard. Now, although most of the young animals did not mind getting rid of their grandmothers, whom they had scarcely even known, many of them had very strong objections to providing their mothers, of whom they were very fond , as food for the leopard. Among the strongest objectors were the squirrel and the tortoise. The tortoise had thought the whole thing out. As everyone knew that his mother was alive, she being rather an amiable old person and friendly with all, he was aware that the same excuse would not avail him a second time. He therefore told his mother to climb up a palm tree, and he would provide her with food until the famine was over. He instructed her to let down a basket every day and said that he would place food in it for her. The tortoise made the basket for his mother and attached it to a long string of tie-tie. The string was so strong that she could haul her son up when ever he wished to visit her.

All went well for some days, as the tortoise used to go at daybreak to the bottm of the tree where his mother lived and place her food in the basket. Then the old lady would pull the basket up and have her food, and the tortoise would depart on his daily round in his usual leisurely manner.

In the meantime, the leopard had to have his daily food. The squirrel’s turn came first, after the grandmothers had finished, and as he was poor, weak thing and not possed of any cunning, he was forced to produce his mother for the leopard to eat. The squirrel was, however, very fond of his mother, and after she had been eaten he remembered that the tortoise had not produced his grandmother or his mother for the leopard’s food. He therefore determined to set a watch on the movements of the tortoise.

The very next morning, while he was gathering nuts, the squirrel saw the tortoise walking very slowly through the bush and, being high up in the trees and able to travel very fast, he had no difficulty in keeping the tortoise in sight without being noticed. When the tortoise arrived at the foot of the tree where his mother lived, he placed the food in the basket which his mother had already let down by the tie-tie and, having got into the basket and given a pull at the string to signify that everything was right, was hauled up and after a time was let down again in the basket. The squirrel was watching all the time and, as soon as the tortoise had gone, he jumped from branch to branch to branch of the trees and very soon arrived at the place where the leopard was napping.

When the leopard woke up, the squirrel said, “You have eaten my grandmother and my mother, but the tortoise has not provided any food for you. It is now his turn, and he has hidden his mother away in a tree.”

Hearing this, the leopard was very angry and told the squirrel to lead him at once to the tree where the tortoise’s mother lived.

But the squirrel said, “The tortoise only goes at daybreak when his mother lets down a basket; so if you go early in the morning, she will pull you up, and you can then kill her.”

To this the leopard agreed, and the next morning the squirrel came at cockcrow and led the leopard to the tree where the tortoise’s mother was hidden. The old lady had already let down the basket for her daily supply of food. The leopard got into it and gave the line a pull, but except for a few small jerks nothing happened. as the old mother tortoise was not strong enough to pull a heavy leopard off the ground. When the leopard saw that he was not going to be pulled up, being an expert climber, he scrambled up the tree. When he got to the top he found the poor old tortoise whose shell was so tough that he thought she was not worth eating, so in a violent temper he threw her down on the ground and then came down himself and went home.

Shortly after this, the tortoise arrived at the tree and, finding the basket on the ground, gave his usual tug at it but there was no answer. He then looked about and after a little while came upon the broken shell of his poor old mother who by this time was quite dead. The tortoise knew at once that the leopard had killed his mother and made up his mind that for the future he would live alone and have nothing to do with the other animals.

[ EFIK-IBIBIO ]

The gazelle said to the leopard, “It is now the dry season, and we should be cutting down the bush, so our women may plant as soon as the first rain come.”

“Well,” said the leopard, “I cannot go today, but you may as well go.”

The gazelle went; and all that hay he cut the bush, and cleared the ground for planting, and the next day he also went alone.

On the third day the leopard called on the gazelle and asked him to go to the plantation with him. But the gazelle said he was sick and could not go, so the leopard went by himself.

The next day the leopard again called for the gazelle, but he was not in.

“Where’s he gone?” inquired the leopard.

“Oh, he has gone to another part.”

And each day the leopard called upon the gazelle he was either sick or out of town; so that the leopard had nearly all the hard work himself.

When the women had planted, and the harvest was ripe, the gazelle went to look at the plantation. He was greatly pleased to find so much planted, and thought how pleased his friends would be if he invited them to a feast; so he called in all the antelopes and other beasts of the field, and they had a splendid feast.

By and by the leopard thought he would go and see how his plantation was getting on, and no sooner had he arrived there he exclaimed, “Hullo, who has been feeding on my plantation and eaten up my corn? Surely I will set a trap for them and catch the thieves.”

The next day the animals, led by the little gazelle, came again; and he warned them, saying, “Be careful, for the leopard will surely set a trap for us.” But the antelope became careless, and finally fell into the leopard’s trap. “There,” said the gazelle, “I told you to be careful. What shall we do? They have all run away and left us, and I am not strong enough to release you.”

Then the leopard came, and rejoiced greatly at having caught the thief. He took the antelope to his town. “Please, sire, the gazelle told me to go,” cried the antelope. “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!”

“How am I to catch the gazelle?” The leopard replied. “No, I must kill you.” And so he killed the antelope and ate him.

When the gazelle heard what the leopard had done, he was greatly annoyed, and declared that as the leopard was their chief, the animals were quite right in eating the food he had provided for them. Was it not the duty of the father to provide for his children? “Well, well, never mind, he will pay us for this.”

Then the gazelle made a drum, and beat it until all the animals came as if to a dance. When they were assembled, he told them that they must be revenged upon the leopard.

The leopard heard the drum, and said to his wife, “Let us go to the dance.” But his wife said she would rather stay at home, and did not go. The leopard went; but no sooner had he arrived than they all set upon him and killed him. And when the dance was over, the leopard’s wife wondered why he had not return. The gazelle sent her the head of her husband, skinned, as her part of the feast; and not knowing that it was her husband’s head, she ate it.

“Oh, for shame,” said the gazelle, “you have eaten your husband’s head.”

“Nay, sir, the shame rests with you; for you gave it to me to eat, after having murdered him.” And she wept and cursed the gazelle.

[ BAKONGO }

ONCE UPON A TIME a caterpillar entered the house of a hare when the owner was absent. On his return the hare noticed the marks on the ground, and cried out, “Who is in my house?”

The caterpillar replied in a loud voice, “I am the warrior son of the long one whose anklets have become unfastened in the fight in the Kurtiale country. I crush the rhinoceros to the earth and make cow’s dung of the elephant! I am invincible!”

The hare went away, saying, “What can a small animal like myself do with a person who tramples an elephant under foot like cow’s dung?”

On the road he met the jackal and asked him to return with him and talk with the big man who had taken possession of his house. The jackal agreed, and when they reached the place he barked loudly and said, “Who is in the house of my friend, the hare?”

The caterpillar replied, “I am the warrior son of the long one whose anklets have become unfastened in the fight in the Kurtiale country. I crush the rhinoceros to the earth and make cow’s dung of the elephant! I am invincible!’

On hearing this the jackal said, “I can do nothing against such a man,” and left.

The hare then fetched the leopard, whom he begged to go and talk with the person in his house. The pLeopard, on reaching the spot, grunted out, “Who is in the house of my friend, the hare?”

The caterpillar replied in the same manner as he had to the jackal, and the leopard said, “If he crushes the elephant and the rhinoceros, he will do the same to me.”

They went away again, and the hare sought out the rhinoceros. The latter, on arriving at the hare’s house, asked who was inside, but when he heard the caterpillar’s reply, he said, “What! He can crush me to earth! I had better go away then.”

The hare next tried the elephant and asked him to come to his assistance, but on hearing what the caterpillar has said, the elephant remarked that he had no wish to be trampled under foot like cow’s dung, and he departed.

A frog was passing at the time, and the hare asked him if he could make the man who had conquered all the animals leave his house. The frog went to the door and asked who was inside. He received the same reply as had been given to others, but, instead of leaving, he went nearer and said, “I, who am strong and a leaper, have come. My buttocks are like the post and God has made me vile.”

When the caterpillar heard this, he trembled, and as he saw the frog coming nearer, he said, “I am only the caterpillar.”

The animals who had collected nearby seized him and dragged him out; and they all laughed at the trouble he had given.

[ MASAI ]

ONCE ON A TIME, A king married the daughter of another king; he loved her very much. His other wives were troubled on account of his love for her. She became pregnant, and gave birth to a girl: the father loved her exceedingly. The child grew, and when she was a fine handsome little child, the other wives formed a plot against her; they said, “Since her father is not at home, let us go and cut fibre.” They told the children not to agree to carry the child. The mother called the little girl who nursed her child. She refused to carry her. The mother put her on her back, and went with her.

They cut fibre, and went on continually. It came to pass in one of the valleys they sat down and took snuff. The mother made a bundle of fibre, and gave it to the child: the child played with it. They set out again and cut fibre. They went on continually. the mother forgot the child. They went on continually cutting fibre; they tied it up in bundles, and carried it home.

When they came home, they called the children’s nurses: they all came. But hers came without the child. She asked, “Where is my child?” They said, “you took her with you.” She was troubled, and cried, and ran to find her. She did not find her, and came back.

There was a great lamentation. The other wives said, “How is it now? We have destroyed the father’s darling. The pet wife is confounded.”

A messenger was sent to tell the father; it was said, “King, your child has been lost, while we were cutting fibre.” The father was greatly troubled.

In the morning an old woman of the royal household of another nation went to fetch water: she heard the child playing; she heard something saying, “Ta, ta, ta.” She wondered and said, “Ah! what is this?” She went stealthily along, and found the child, sitting and playing. She went home, and left both her and the water-pot. She called the king’s chief wife, and said, “Come here.” The queen went out of the house. She said, “Let us go; there is something by the river which you will see.” The queen said, “Take her.” She said so with joy. The old woman took her. They came to the river. The queen said, “Wash she.” She washed her. The queen took her, and placed her on her back, and went home.

She suckled her, for she had given birth to a boy. The queen brought her up. She grew and the queen’s own child walked. She grew and became a great girl. She was appointed chief of the girls, when a great feast was made. Many cattle were slaughtered, and all the people rejoiced.

After that the chief men said to the boy, “Marry this girl.” The boy wondered, and aid, “O! what is the meaning of this? Is she not my sister? Did we not suck together at my mother’s breast?” They said, “No, she was found in a valley.” He denied, and said, “No, she is my sister.” The next morning they said, “It is proper you should take her to be your wife.” He refused, and was greatly troubled.

On another occasion an old woman said tot he girl, “Do you know? She answered, “What?” She said, “You are going to be married.”” She inquired, “To whom?” She said, “the young man of your own house.” She said, “O! what is the meaning of this? Is he not my brother?” The old woman said, “No, you were taken from a valley, and brought up by the queen.” She cried, being much troubled.

The girl took a water-pot, and water to the river, and sat down and wept. She filled the water-pot, and went home. She sat down in the house. Her mother gave her food; she did not like it, and refused. The mother asked, “What is it?” She said, “Nothing. There is a pain in my head.” So it was evening, and she went to lie down.

In the morning she awoke and took the water-pot, and went to the river; she sat down and wept. As she was crying, there came out a great frog, and said, “Why are you crying?” She said, “I am in trouble.” The frog said, “What is troubling you?” She replied, “It is said that I am to become the wife of my brother.” The frog said, “Go and take your brother things, which you love, and bring them here.”

She rose and took the water-pot, and went home. She took another pot, and fetched her things, and out them in the pot; she took her brass rod, and her ubenthle kilt, and a petticoat with a border of brass balls, and her fillet, and her brass, and her beads. She took these things, and went to the river, and threw them on the ground.

The frog inquired, saying, “Do you wish me to take you to your own people?” The child said, “Yes.” The frog took her things and sallowed them; he took her and swallowed her; and set out with her.

On the way he met with a string of young men: they saw the frog. The one in front said, “Just come and see: here is a very great frog.” The others said, “Let us kill him, and throw stones at him.” The frog said:

“I am but a frog; I will not be killed.

I am taking Umbhlubu to her own country.”

They left him. They said, “Hau! How is it that the frog speaks, making a prodigy? Let us leave him.” They passed on, and went their way.

And so the frog too went on his way. Again he met with a string of men. The one in front said, “O, come and see a huge frog.” They said, “let us kill it.” The frog replied:

“I am but a frog; I will not be killed.

I am taking Umdhlubu to her own country.”

They passed on, and the frog went on his way.

He fell in with some boys herding cattle: they saw him, and he was seen by a boy of the damsel’s father. He had said, “W au! By Umdhlubu the king’s child! Come and kill a great frog. Run and cut sharp sticks, that we may pierce him with them.” The frog said:

“I am but a frog; I will not be killed.

I am taking Umdhlubu to her own country.”

The boy wondered, and said, “O, sirs, do not let us kill him. He calls up painful emoptions. Leave him alone, that we may pass on.” They left him.

The frog went on his way and came to others. He was seen by the girl’s own brother: he said, “By Umdhlubu the king’s child! There is a very great frog. Let us beat it with stones and kill it.” The frog said:

“I am but a frog; I will not be killed.

I am taking Umdhlubu to her own country.”

He said, O, leave him alone. He speaks a fearful thing.”

He went on and came near her home: he entered a bush below the kraal: he placed her on the ground with her things. He put her in order: he cleansed her with udonqa: he anointed her, and put on her ornaments.

So she set out. She took her brass rod, and went and entered at the gateway, and she passed across the cattle enclosure: she went in the middle of it: she came to the opening, she went out, and entered the house of her mother. Her mother followed her into the house and said, “Where do you come from, damsel?” She said, “I am merely on a journey.” The mother said, “Tell me.” She said, “There is nothing, I am merely on a journey.” The mother said, “Women are satisfied who have such fine children as you. For my part, I am in trouble: my child was lost: I felt her in the valley: she died there.” The child answered, saying, “No; the queens made me forget her; they would not allow the nurse to carry her.” The girl said in answer, “No! there is no woman who can forget her own child.” She said, “No; it happened through my not being accustomed to carry a child; for she used to remain with the nurse.” Umdhlubu said, “Yes, you did it because you did not love me.” She began to look very earnestly at her; she saw that it was her child.

When she saw her she rejoiced. She praised with the praise-giving names of her child. The mother took her role, and girded her herself; she took her head-ornament, and put it on her head; she took her petticoat, and put it on; she took her staff, and went out; she leaped for joy, and halala’d; she went into the cattle-pen; she played leaping about with joy. The people wondered and said, “What has happened to Untombinde today? Why does she rejoice so much? Since the time her first-born died, she has never rejoiced, but has constantly been in sorrow.”

One from her side went out, and said, “Just let me go and see what is in the house? Why do I hear the queen praising with the praise-giving names of her dead child? So she went, and entered the house, and saw the girl. She went out, and shouted aloud, and gave thanks.

All the people went out. They ran to the house, hurrying to get there first. They crowded each other together at the doorway. They saw the child. All the people on her side rejoiced. All the others were troubled, and the queens of the other side said, “Ah! What does it mean? For we thought we had already killed this child. She has come to life again. We shall be confounded together with out children. The supremacy of our children is coming to an end.”

A messenger set out and went to her father; he arrived and said, “O king, your child that was dead is come to life again.” The king said, “Hau! Are you mad? Which is that child?” The messenger said, “Umdhlubu.” The father said, “Whence comes she?” He said, “I do not know, O king.” The father said, “If it is not she, I will kill you. If it is she, run, raise a cry in all places, that the people may bring together all the large oxen, and come with them.”

He went and raised a cry, and said, “The princess has come. Make haste with the oxen.” The men asked, “Which princess?” He replied, “Umdhlubu, the child of the king, who was dead.”

They rejoice; they took their shields; they took the oxen, and drove them; they took also their presents to gladden the princess; for she had risen from death; they found her when they no longer expected it. They came; they slaughtered many cattle, even in the paths, in order that the old men and the old women and the sick might eat, who were not able to reach the home where the princess was.

The father came and said, “Come out, my child, that I may see you.” She did not answer. He slaughtered twenty oxen. She made her appearance at the doorway, and stood still. He slaughtered thirty; she came out. The father said, “Go into the cattle-kraal; let us go to dance for you, for our great joy; for I used to say, you are already dead, but in fact you are still alive.” She stood still. Again he slaughtered forty oxen. Then she went, and entered into the kraal.

They danced for her very much. But the other side of the kraal did not rejoice; it did not dance together with the children and queens of that side. They left off dancing.

The father went with her into the house, and sat down with her. He said, “Let a fat young ox be taken, that we may eat and rejoice, for she was dead, and had risen from the death.”

So All the people rejoiced. The child returned to her royal position. Her father did right, royally; he returned to his former habits, and loved at that kraal, for he had ceased to be there much, because he remembered his child which had hied. Her mother and the children of her house rejoiced together.

Her father asked her, “How did you come here?” The child said, “I was brought by a frog.” The father said, “Where is he?” The child replied, “He is yonder in the bush.” The father said, “Let oven be taken, that he may be danced for, and come up to our home.” So they went and danced for him.

They brought him home. They brought him into the house and gave him ,meat, and ate. The king inquired, “What do you wish that I should give you as a reward?” He said, “I wish some black hornless cattle.” He took many cattle and people, and said, “Go with him.” So they went and came to his country.

The frog built a great town, and became a great chief. He slaughtered cattle continually; and men came to ask for meat. They inquired, “What is your chief who built this town?” They said, Uselesele.” They inquired, “Whence did he obtain so large a town as this?” They said, “He got it because he brought out princess to the king; so he gave him cattle and men.” They answered, saying, “Are you then the people of Uselesele?” They said, “Yes. Do not speak disrespectfully of him; he will kill you, for he is a great chief.”

Uselesele took many people under his protection. They revoked from their chiefs through seeing the abundance of food at Uselesele’s. So Uselesele reigned and become a king.

Unkosi-yasenthla heard it said, “Unkosi-yasenzansi has a beautiful daughter, named Umdhlubu.” He said to his people, “Go and see what kind of damsel it is.” They went, and came to Unkosi-yasenzansi, and said, “King, we have seen sent by Unkosi-yasnthla, that we might select a beautiful damsel from among your children.”

He summoned them, and they came. At length they saw only one damsel which excelled all the others in beauty. For they remembered, that if a king has sent people to go and choose a beautiful damsel, it is proper that they should look very earnestly; for those people are the king’s eyes, because he trusts them. They look earnestly, that they may not be reproved when the damsel is brought home. When they see she is ugly, not like aa damsel which has been chosen for a king, they find great fault, saying, “Why have you disgraced the king by choosing an ugly thing for him?” The honor of those men is ended; they are removed from their honorable office, because they are not trustworthy. therefore they chose Umdhlubu for her beauty’s sake, saying, “It is she only who is fit to be the king’s queen above all the others.”

Therefore those who were left were ashamed; and their mothers were ashamed; and their brothers were ashamed. There was rejoicing in the house of Umdhlubu. The joy began with Umdhlubu, who was conspicuous for beauty among many other damsels and in the eyes of them all, for it was said, “There is a beautiful woman indeed!” Her mother rejoiced in her heart, saying, “I did well when I gave birth to my child!” And the children of her house were exalted, although their mother had been long ago exalted by the king, through being loved. there, then, was the hatred which increased towards that house of Umdhlubu, as her mother also was loved very much by the father of Umdhlubu. There was a very great hatred in the hearts of the other queens, on account of the beauty of Umdhlubu, which was admired by the king of another people above all their own children. They were ashamed for ever.

So they looked, and chose Umdhlubu. They departed to tell the king. They arrived home, and said, “King, we have seen the beautiful damsel; her name is Umdhlubu.” The king said, “Aye; it is well. We must set out and go thither, and take a thousand head of cattle. ” So they set out.

Unkosi-yasenzansi, as he was sitting in the shade within the cattle-pen with his people, said, “What is that yonder? There is a great dust which rises to heaven.” They were afraid. He said to his soldiers, “get ready to fight, for we do not know what is coming.” After that the cattle appeared coming with the king and his people. Unkosi-yasenzansi went to meet them.

But the chief said, “I am Unkosi-yasenthla; I come to see Umdhlubu. Then they all went to her house. When they arrived, they asked her to have Umdhlubu given them. Her father rejoiced when he heard that.

They had cattle slaughtered for them. They spoke with the father. Unkosi-yasenthla said, “I come to you, Unkosi-yansenzansi, I being desirous of taking your daughter; if you assent, it is well. I come with a thousand cattle.” The father assented, saying, “It is well.”

He assembled all the girls, and all the men, the young men with head-rings, and the youth; he set apart men for the purpose of working for Umdhlubu. He took out brass and beads for her marriage, and five hundred oxen, and said, “Now it is right. Set out with her. There is an officer for the purpose of conducting the wedding ceremonies.”

So they all went with him, and reached the king’s home. As they were coming into sight, a great cry was raised, and the people appeared in all directions, shouting, “The quee n of Unkosi-yasenthla has come.” They rejoiced.

They retired to rest. In the morning, when the sun had risen, and it was hot, the damsels went out with the young men and youths, and went into the bush; they sat down there. When the time for dancing arrived, they danced; they fetched the damsel from the bush; she went to the kraal to dance.

So they ended the dance. She took brass, and placed it before her father, and prayed, saying, “Sire, take care of me forever, for now I am in thy hand, preserve me.”

The whole marriage party sat down. They danced for them. They ended the dance. In the morning the damsel had ten bullocks killed and they ate and rejoiced.

The officer of the ceremony said, “Sire, we now wish to set out to return home, for the work is done.”

The king took five hundred head of cattle, and sent them as a present to his mother. The men returned home.

And the damsels remained. Umdhlubu’s father had said that they were not to return, but stay with her, and work for her; and many people, both male and female, remained there to build her town.

The king said, “Now build the town of the queen, where she may live with her people.”

So the town was built and completed. The king visited it; many cattle were killed, that the soldiers might eat, and complete the queen’s town. The king also went to live there at the new town. Thus he took Umdhlubu to be his wife.

The people of Umdhlubu’s father reached their home, and said, “O king, we have done all things very well. There are cattle for Umdhlubu’s mother; they are given to her by her son. He told us to give his respects to both his father and mother.”

So all lived together in peace.

[ ZULU ]

Two beings, Elephant and Rain, had a dispute. Elephant said, “If you say that you nourish me, in what way is it that you do so?” Rain answered, “If you say that I do not nourish you, when I go away, will you not die?” And Rain then departed.

Elephant said, “Vulture! Cast lots to make rain for me!” Vulture said, “I will not cast lots.”

Then Elephant said to Crow, “Cast lots!” and Crow answered, “Give the things with which I may cast lots.” Crow cast lots and rain fell. It rained at the lagoons, but then they dried up, and only one lagoon remained.

Elephant went hunting. There was, however, Tortoise, to whom Elephant said, “Tortoise, remain at the water!” Thus Tortoise was left behind when Elephant went hunting.

There came Giraffe, and said to Tortoise, “Give me water!” Tortoise answered, “The water belongs to Elephant.”

There came Zebra, who said to Tortoise, Give me water!” Tortoise answered, “The water belongs to Elephant.”

There came Gemsbok, and said to Tortoise, “Give me water!” Tortoise answered, “The water belongs to Elephant.”

There came Wildebeest, and said, “Give me water!” Tortoise said, “The water belongs to Elephant.”

There came Roodebok, and said to Tortoise, “Give me water!” Tortoise answered, “The water belongs to Elephant.”

There came Springbok, and said to Tortoise, “Give me water!” Tortoise said, “The water belongs to Elephant.”

there came Jackal, and said to Tortoise, “Give me water!” Tortoise said, “The water belongs to Elephant.”

There came Lion, and said, “Little Tortoise, give me water!” When little Tortoise was about to say something, Lion got hold of it and beat it. Lion drank of the water, and since then all the animals drink water.

When Elephant came back from the hunting, he said, “Little Tortoise, where is the water?” Tortoise answered, “The animals have drunk the water.” Elephant asked, “Little Tortoise, shall I chew you or swallow you down?” Little Tortoise said, “Swallow me, if you please,” and Elephant swallowed it whole.

After Elephant had swallowed little Tortoise, and it had entered his body, it tore off his liver, heart, and kidneys. Elephant said, “Little Tortoise, you kill me.”

So Elephant died, But little Tortoise came out of his dead body and went wherever it liked.

[ HOTTENTOT }

Once upon a time there was a wolf and a fox. The wolf was the master and the fox the servant.

One day both were grazing their flock in the pasture and, as they were thus grazing, the wolf and the fox wandered off into the plains to dig up some wild onions. The sheep scattered in pasturing and then lay down. Wolf and Fox were in the plains eating wild onions; in this way they lost sight of the sheep. After a while, the wolf said to the fox, “Companion, go and bring back the sheep!”

The fox found the wild onions very much to his taste, but he got up and bound two sheep together, a ram and a ewe, and then returned. Again the wolf and the fox wandered over the plain to dig up wild onions. After a while the wolf again said to the fox, “Go and bring back the sheep once more!”

The fox, however said, “Companion, look, the sheep are pasturing quietly.” Thereupon the wolf himself got up and looked after the sheep, and there he found the two sheep which had been bound to the tree by the fox, a male one and a female one. He grew very angry when he saw what roguish trick the fox had played on him, and when he returned he asked the fox, “Rascal, where are the other sheep?” and he broke off some branches and struck the fox hard. The fox, thereupon, went to look for the sheep, but, as he was crying, he held his arms up to his head.

Then he looked into the distance and saw two cattle, a white one and a black one, and said, “Those cattle there are mine.” And the wolf questioned him, saying, “Where are they? And the fox said, “Was it not you who just beat me so severely?” And the wolf said, “Well, come and beat me now!” Thereupon the fox looked around for branches from a thorny bush, braided them together, and said to the wolf, “Lie down!”

Then he beat him hard, and the wolf’s blood began to trickle down. And the wolf said, “By the blood of my mother! Did I beat you that hard?” So the fox said, “Come, just look at my back; it is all torn up.” So the wolf said, “Go ahead then, beat me!” When he stopped beating him, he looked out into the distance and saw the two cattle. And the fox said, “The black one is mine.” Then they raced toward the two cattle. The wolf seized the white one and the fox seized the black one. The wolf pierced his cow first, the fox pierced his last. The fox’s cow showed fat in the wound, and the wolf’s nothing bot foam. Then the wolf grew angry and said, “The cow that you have given me is emaciated.” And the fox said, “All right then; take mine.” Then both pierced their cows again, the wolf that belonging to the fox, and the fox that belonging to the wolf. And when the wolf pierced the cow, foam once more appeared in the wound, whereas the wound that the fox made showed fat. So the wolf said, “Let us slaughter them together so that we may eat in common.”

As they were slaughtering them, the wolf said to the fox, “now that we have slaughtered a thing of this kind, why, in truth, are we eating? Let us therefore kill our mothers, so that we can grieve for them.” thereupon the fox said, “Yes.” merely out of roguishness. So they arrived, the wolf led his mother into the field and killed her. But the fox led his mother away and seated her in a cave by the road to the spring and then returned. Thereupon they fetched the meat. The wolf sent the fox out and said, “Get out the cooking-pot and go fetch some water.” So the fox took the vessel and went.

On the road he rubbed some meat around his mouth and then went into the cave where his mother was and said, “Mother!” calling her. And the mother said, “Uooo!” answering him. Then he gave her the meat and went to draw water.

Upon his return he went to the village of the wolf, and the wolf was full of grief because he had really killed his mother. But the fox was joyful, because he had not really killed his mother. And so they put the meat on to cook. Then the wolf said, “Fox, go fetch me some water. Take some meat and go; you can eat on your way.” And since his mother was hidden near the road, he eagerly hurried on.

One day the wolf said, “Today I shall go to fetch water.” The fox said, “I beg you, I have an aunt there, and the road is bad, let me fetch water.” Nut the wolf said, “It is my turn to go and fetch water.” The fox was disturbed because the wolf would not yield. Now the wolf took the water pail and went and fetched water, and he had not taken any meat along. On his way he came close to the cave, and the fox’s mother called saying, “Fox, my child, have you abandoned me?” So the wolf stayed still and listened to determine where the voice came from.

Then the fox’s mother called again, saying, “my child, have you abandoned me?” So the wolf realized that the fox had deceived him and had not killed his mother. Then he went to the cave and stabbed the mother with the spear and laid her down in the opening. Then he went to fetch water and came back to the village.

The next morning the wolf sent fox saying, “Go, fetch me some water.” Thereupon the fox took some meat and his pail and started out. When he came close to the cave, he called and looked in, thinking she was asleep. And he said, “Mother, mother!” Then he touched her foot. “The poor creature is not sleeping, she only sleeps on one eye, the other is open.” But the mother did not stir, so he got an ant and placed it on her eye, so that it could bite her and wake her up. But she did not wake up; no, she was dead. Then he went into the cave and looked around. And then he saw the wound; and he sat down and cried very hard.

Thereupon he fetched some water and went home and did not want to return to the water any more. The wolf noticed that the fox had become angry. In the evening, when they set the meat to cook and sat by the fire to warm themselves, the fox was crying very hard. Thereupon the wolf questioned him, saying, “What are you crying about?” And the fox said, “I am bleary-eyed, that is all, perhaps it is the smoke.” Yet, when he had taken his seat there, he continued crying. Then the wolf said, “Yonder is your aunt, your mother, whom I have killed and for whom you are weeping. Is that not so? Now I am bewailing both my mother and your mother, my friend.”

The next day dawned. The wolf went to graze his flock, but the fox stayed in the village. The wolf said to him, “Stay here and cook me a good meal!” Thus it was. The wolf went to graze his flock, and the fox stayed in the village and put meat in the pot to cook. As the meat was cooking, the fox took all of it out, scooped up the fat, gathered together some dung of dogs, cattle, and human beings and some pieces of leather for the pot and departed.

When the wolf came back in the evening from driving his flock, he found that the fox had disappeared. Under the fur blanket the fox had placed an insect and told it, “If the wolf calls, answer!” And the wolf came in and called saying, “There is the aunt.” Thereupon the insect said “Uooo!” and the wolf was very pleased and said, “There is the aunt of yours; just put her in, she is boiling.” He was very pleased.

He stepped up to the pot and took a stick and stirred with it, saying, “The fox has played a roguish trick again, he has eaten all the meat, the fat as well and then he has disappeared.” Then he grew very wroth and took the fur and beat it thinking that the fox was inside. But the fox had gone long ago. He was far away. This the wolf discovered, so he pursued him and stayed on the spoor, till he found him on a rock. At this he was very well pleased, for now he would be able to kill him. He tried to climb up. Hew climbed part way but then slid back. Then he climbed again but again slid back and said, “Fox, how did you climb up?” But the fox had smeared the rock with tallow, and he said, “Yonder is the aunt; take this pebble, and I shall tell you where I climbed up. Take it and let me see!” Then he continued: “Do show me your teeth that I can see whether they are good or bad, whether they are filed out or whether they are not filed out yet.” So the wolf opened his mouth and the fox threw the rock into the wolf’s mouth and broke all his teeth.

Then the fox ran away. The wolf cried out but not turn back; indeed, he did not. He continued his pursuit of him. Now the fox was at a woman’s house in the village, so when the wolf arrived, he said, “Grab that fox.” He went closer and closer and shouted, “Do not let him get away!” But the fox said, “People, you hear what he is saying: “Let him get away!’ ” So the people went away.

Thereupon the wolf went to the lion and said, “Have pity on me and do seize that fox, do not let him get away!” and the fox said again, “Do you hear? There he says it again: ‘Let him get away!’ “

Finally the fox went into a cave and plucked out all his hair. The wolf caught up with him and said, “How this one resembles the fox with his thick tail and his long muzzle!’ But the fox said, “How the man talks! Have I not plucked myself bare as a Hill Damara, and now he says, you resemble the fox!” And so the wolf went away.

[ HERERO ]

A very long time ago there was a king who called Walukaga, chief of the smiths, and gave him a great quantity of iron and said, “I want you to make a real man for me, one who can walk and talk, and who has blood in his body, and who has brains.”

Walukaga took the iron and went home, but he was at a loss what to do, and no one could advise him how to set about making the real man. He went about among his friends telling them what the king has said, and asked what he had better do. No one was able to give him any advice. They all knew that the king would not accept anything short of an honest trial, and would punish the man for not carrying out his commands.

On the way home one day Walukaga net a former friend who had gone mad, and who lived alone on some wasteland. Walukaga did not know that he was mad until he met him. When they approached each other, Walukaga greeted his old friend, and the madman asked him where he had come from. Walukaga reasoned for a moment and then said to himself, “Why should I not tell him my story? Even though he is mad, he used to be my friend.” So he answered, “I have come from some friends where I have been trying to get advice.”

The madman asked what advice he wanted, and Walukaga told him all the king had said, and about the work he had given him to do, and how he had given him the iron, and then added, “What am I to do?”

The madman answered, “If the king has told you to do this work, go to him and say that, if he really wishes to have a nice man forged, he is to order all the people to share their heads and burn the hair until they have made up a thousand loads of charcoal, and he is to get one hundred large pots of water from the tears of the people with which to slake the fire and keep it from burning too fiercely.”

Walukaga returned to the king and said to him, “My lord, if you wish me to make this man quickly and well, order the people to shave their heads and burn their hair, and make a thousand loads of charcoal out of it for me to work the iron into the man. Further, make them collect a hundred pots full of tears to act as water for the work, because the charcoal from wood and the ordinary water from wells are of no use for forging a man.”

The king agreed to the request and gave the order to all the people to shave their heads and burn their hair into charcoal, and to collect all the tears. When they had all shaved their heads and burnt their hair, there was scarcely one load of charcoal, and when they had collected all the tears there were not two pots full of water.

When the king saw the results of his endeavors, he sent for the smith Walukaga and said to him, “Don’t trouble to make the man, because I am unable to get the charcoal or the tears for the water.”

Walukaga knelt down and thanked the king. He then added, “My lord, it was because I knew you would be unable to get the hair for charcoal and the tears for the water that I asked for them; you had asked me to do an impossible thing.”

All the people present laughed and said, “Walukaga speaks the truth.”

[ BAGANDA ]

Mantis once did as follows: Kwammang-a had taken off a part of his shoe and thrown it away, and Mantis picked it up and went and soaked it in the water, at a place where some reeds grew. Mantis went away, then he came back again, went up to the water, and looked. He turned away again, for he saw that the Eland was still small.

Again he came, and found the Eland’s spoor where it had come out of the water to graze. Then Mantis went up to the water, while Eland went seeking the grass which it eats. He waited, sitting by the water, he was upon the water’s bank, opposite Eland’s assegai, and soon Eland came to drink there. He saw Eland as it came to drink. He said, “Kwammang-a’s shoe’s piece!” And young Eland walked up as when its father thrilled to him. Mantis called, making his tongue quiver, as Bushmen still do in springbok hunting.

Then Mantis went to find some honey; he went to cut some honey. He came back and put the bag of honey down near the water and returned home. Then, before the sun was up, he came back to pick up the bag. He approached while Eland was in the reeds. He called to it, “Kwammang-a’s shoe’s piece!” And Eland got up from the reeds and walked up to its father. Mantis put down the bag of honey. He took out the honeycomb and laid it down. He kept picking up pieces of it, he kept rubbing it on Eland’s ribs while he splashed them, making them very nice.

Then he went away and took the bag to seek for more honey to cut. When he came back he again laid the bag of honey down near the water and returned home. Once more he returned and picked up the bag, once more he went to the place and called Eland out of the water, saying, “Kwammang-s shoe’s piece.”

Then Eland stood shyly in the water and walked up to its father, for he had grown. His father wept, fondling him. He again rubbed Eland’s ribs making nice with honeycomb. Then he went away, while Eland walked back into the water, went to bask in the water.

Mantis did not come back for a time, and for three nights. Eland grew, becoming like an ox. Then Mantis went out early. The sun rose, as he walked up to the water. He called Eland, and Eland rose up and came forth, and the ground resounded as it came. And Mantis sang for joy about Eland; he sang:

“Ah, a person is here!

Kwammang-a’s shoe’s piece!

My eldest son’s shoe’s piece!

Kwammang-a’s shoe’s piece!

My eldest son’s shoe’s piece!”

Meanwhile he rubbed Eland down nicely, rubbed down the male Eland. Then he went away and returned home.

The next morning he called young Ichneumon, saying that young Ichneumon should go with him and that they would be only two. Thus he deceived young Ichneumon. And they went out and reached the water while Eland was grazing. They sat down in the shade of the bush by which Eland’s assegai stood, where he kept coming to take it.

Mantis spoke: “young Ichneumon, go to sleep!” for he meant to deceive him. So young Ichneumon lay down, as Eland came to drink, because the sun stood at noon and was getting hot. Meanwhile young Ichneumon had covered up his head, because Mantis wished him to do so. But young Ichneumon did not sleep; he lay awake.

The Eland walked away, and young Ichneumon said. “Hi, stand! Hi, stand, stand!”

And Mantis said, “What does my brother think he has seen yonder?”

And young Ichneumon said, “A person is yonder, standing yonder.”

And Mantis said, “You think it is magic; but it is a very small thing, it is a bit of father’s shoe, which he dropped. Magic it is not.” And they went home.

Then young Ichneumon told his father Kwammang-a about it. And Kwammang-a said that young Ichneumon must guide him and show him Eland; he would see whether Eland was so very handsome after Mantis had rubbed it down. The young Ichneumon guided his father, while Mantis was at another place, for he meant to go to the water later on. Meanwhile they went up to Eland at the water, and Kwammang-a looked at it and he knocked it down while Mantis was not there. He knocked Eland down and was cutting it up before Mantis came. So when Mantis arrived, he saw Kwammang-a and the others standing there cutting up his Eland.

And Mantis said, “Why could you not first let me come?” And he wept for Eland; he scolded Kwammang-a’s people, because Kwammang-a had not let him come first, and let him be the one to tell them to kill eland.

And Kwammang-a said, “Tell Grandfather to leave off. He must come and gather wood for us, that we may eat, for this is meat.”

When Mantis came, he said he had wanted Kwammang-a to let him come while Eland was still alive, and not to have killed it when he was not looking. They might have waited to kill Eland until he was looking on. Then he himself would have told them to kill it. Then his heart would have been comfortable. Now his heart did not feel satisfied about Eland whom he alone had made.

Then, as he went to gather wood, he caught sight of a gall there, it was Eland’s gall. And he said to himself that he would pierce the gall open and that he would jump upon it. And the gall spoke: “I will burst, covering you over.”

Just the young Ichneumon said, “What are you looking at there, that you do not gather wood at that place?”

So Mantis left the gall, brought wood, and put it down. Then he again looked for wood at the place where the gall had been. He went up to the gall and again said he would pierce the gall open and that he would jump upon it. The gall again said it would burst, covering him all over. He said he would jump, and that the gall must burst when he trod on it and as he jumped.

Young Ichneumon scolded him again and asked, “What can be yonder, that you keep going to that place? You do not gather wood, you just keep going to that bush. You are going to play tricks and not gather wood.”

And Kwammang-a said, “You must make haste and let us go when you have called Grandfather, for the gall lies there; Grandfather has seen it. So you must make haste. When Grandfather behaves like this about anything, he is not acting honorably; he is playing tricks with this thing. So you must manage that we start, when you have called Grandfather, that we may leave the place where the gall is.”

Then they placed the meat into the net, while Mantis untied his shoe and put the shoe into the bag. It was an arrow-bag which he had slung on next the quiver. And so they carried the things and went along homeward. On the way Mantis said, “This shoestring has broken.”

Then young Ichneumon said, “You must have put the shoe away.”

And Mantis said, “No, no the shoe must really be laying there where we cut up Eland. So I must turn back and go fetch the shoe.”

But young Ichneumon said, “You must have put the shoe in the bag. You must feel inside the bag, feel in the middle of it and see whether you cannot find the shoe.”

So Mantis felt in the bag, but he kept feeling above the shoe. He said, “See, the shoe is really not in it. I must go back and pick it ip, for the shoe is truly yonder.”

But young Ichneumon replied, “We must go home, we really must go home.”

Then Mantis said, “You can go home, but I must really go and get the shoe.”

Thereupon Kwammang-a said, Let Grandfather be! Let him turn back and do as he wants.”

And young Ichneumon said, “O you person! I do wish Mantis would for once listen when we speak.”

Mantis only said, “You always go on like this! I must go and get the shoe.”

Then Mantis turned back. He ran up to the gall, reached it, pierced it, and made the gall burst. And the gall broke, covering his head; his eyes became big and he could not see. He groped about, feeling his way. And he went groping along, groping along, groping, until he found an ostrich feather. This he picked up, sucked it, and brushed off the gall from his eyes with it.

Then he threw the feather up and spoke: “You must now lie up in the sky; you must henceforth be the moon. You shall shine at night. By your shining you shall lighten the darkness for men and women, until the sun rises to light up all things for men and women. It is the sun under whom men and women hunt. You must just glow for men and women, while the sun shines for men and women. Under him men and women walk about; they go hunting; they return home. But you are the moon; you give light for men and women, then you fall away, but you return to life after you have fallen away. Thus you give light to all people.”

That is what the moon does: the moon falls away and returns to life, and he lights up all the flat places of the world.

[ BUSHE MEN ]