Where Animals Talk: West African Folk Lore Tales

WHERE ANIMALS TALK

West African Folk Lore Tales

By
ROBERT H. NASSAU
Author of “Fetichism in West Africa,” “The Youngest King,” etc.

RICHARD G. BADGER
THE GORHAM PRESS
BOSTON

Copyright 1912 by Richard G. Badger
All rights reserved

The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A.

PREFACE

The typical native African Ekano or legend is marked by repetition. The same incidents occur to a succession of individuals; monotony being prevented by a variation in the conduct of those individuals, as they reveal their weakness or stupidity, artifice or treachery.

Narrators, while preserving the original plot and characters of a Tale, vary it, and make it graphic by introducing objects known and familiar to their audience. These inconsistencies do not interfere with belief or offend the taste of a people with whom even the impossible is not a bar to faith; rather, the inconsistency sharpens their enjoyment of the story.

Surprise must not be felt at the impossibility of some of the situations; e.g., the swallowing by an animal of his wife, baggage and household furniture, as a means of hiding them. The absurdity of such situations is one of the distinctive attractions to the minds of the excited listeners.

Variations of the same Tale, as told in different Tribes, were inevitable among a people whose language was not written until within the last hundred years; the Tales having been transmitted verbally, from generation to generation, for, probably, thousands of years. As to their antiquity, I believe these Tales to be of very ancient origin. No argument must be taken against them because of the internal evidence of allusion to modern things, or implements, or customs of known modern date; e.g., “cannon,” “tables,” “steamships,” etc., etc. Narrators constantly embellish by novel additions; e.g., where, in the original story, a character used a spear, the narrator may substitute a pistol.

Almost all these Tales locate themselves in supposed pre-historic times, when Beasts and Human Beings are asserted to have lived together with social relations in the same community. An unintended concession to the claims of some Evolutionists!

The most distinctive feature of these Tales is that, while the actors are Beasts, they are speaking and living as Human Beings, acting as a beast in human environment; and, instantly, in the same sentence, acting as a human being in a beast’s environment. This must constantly be borne in mind, or the action of the story will become not only unreasonable but utterly inexplicable.

The characters in the stories relieve themselves from difficult or dangerous situations by invoking the aid of a powerful personal fetish-charm known as “Ngalo”; a fetish almost as valuable as Aladdin’s Lamp of the Arabian Nights. And yet, with inconsistency, notwithstanding this aid, the actors are often suffering from many small evils of daily human life. These inconsistencies are another feature of the Ekano that the listeners enjoy as the spice of the story.

From internal evidences, I think that the local sources of these Tales were Arabian, or at least under Arabic, and perhaps even Egyptian, influences. (Observe the prefix, Ra, a contraction of Rera equals father, a title of honor, as “Lord,” or “Sir,” or “Master,” in names of dignitaries; e.g. Ra-Marânge, Ra-Mborakinda, Ra-Meses.)

This is consistent with the fact that there is Arabic blood in the Bantu Negro. The invariable direction to which the southwest coast tribes point, as the source of their ancestors, is northeast. Such an ethnologist as Sir H. H. Johnston traces the Bantu stream southward on the east coast to the Cape of Good Hope, and then turns it northward on the west coast to the equator and as far as the fourth degree of north latitude, the very region from which I gathered these stories.

Only a few men, and still fewer women, in any community, are noted as skilled narrators. They are the literati.

The public never weary of hearing the same Tales repeated; like our own civilized audiences at a play running for a hundred or more nights. They are made attractive by the dramatic use of gesture, tones, and startling exclamations.

The occasions selected for the renditions are nights, after the day’s works are done, especially if there be visitors to be entertained. The places chosen are the open village street, or, in forest camps where almost all the population of a village go for a week’s work on their cutting of new plantations; or for hunting; or for fishing in ponds. The time for these camps is in one of the two dry seasons: where the booths erected are not for protection against rain, but for a little privacy, for the warding off of insects, birds and small animals, and for the drying of meats. At such times, most of the adults go off during the day for fishing; or, if for hunting, only the men; the children being guarded at their plays in the camp by the older women, who are kept occupied with cooking, and with the drying of meats. At night, all gather around the camp-fire; and the Tales are told with, at intervals, accompaniment of drum; and parts of the plot are illustrated by an appropriate song, or by a short dance, the platform being only the earth, and the scenery the forest shadows and the moon or stars.

The Bantu Language has very many dialects, having the same grammatical construction, but differing in their vocabulary. The name of the same animal therefore differs in the three typical Tribes mentioned in these Tales; e.g., Leopard, in Mpongwe, equals Njĕgâ; in Benga, equals Njâ; and in Fang, equals Nzĕ.

PRONUNCIATION

In all the dialects of the Bantu language, consonants are pronounced, as in English; except that g is always hard.

The vowels are pronounced as in the following English equivalent:—

A before y is pronounced ai as a diphthong, e.g., Asaya. Close every syllable with a vowel, e.g., Ko-ngo. Where two or more consonants begin a syllable, a slight vowel sound may be presupposed, e.g., Ngweya, as if iNgweya.

Ng has the nasal sound of ng in “finger,” as if fing-nger, (not as in “singer,”) e.g., Mpo-ngwe.

CONTENTS

Part First

[Mpongwe Tribe]

Part Second

[Benga Tribe]

Part Third

[Fang Tribe]

PART FIRST

Mpongwe

FOREWORD

The following sixteen Tales were narrated to me, many years ago, by two members of the Mpongwe tribe (one now dead) at the town of Libreville, Gaboon river, equatorial West Africa. Both of them were well-educated persons, a man and a woman. They chose legends that were current in their own tribe. They spoke in Mpongwe; and, in my English rendition, I have retained some of their native idioms. As far as I am aware none of these legends have ever been printed in English, excepting [Tale 5], a version of which appeared in a British magazine from a writer in Kamerun, after I had heard it at Gaboon. Also, excepting [Tale 14]. It appeared, in another form, more than fifty years ago, in Rev. Dr. J. L. Wilson’s “Western Africa.” But my narrator was not aware of that, when he told it to me.

TALE 1

Do Not Trust Your Friend

Place

Country of the Animals

Persons

• Njĕgâ (Leopard)
• Ntori (Wild Rat)
• Ra-Marânge (Medicine Man)
• Nyare (Ox)

• Ngowa (Hog)
• Nkambi (Antelope)
• Leopard’s Wife; and others

NOTE

A story of the treachery of the Leopard as matched by the duplicity of the Rat.

In public mourning for the dead, it is the custom for the nearest relative or dearest friend to claim the privilege of sitting closest to the corpse, and nursing the head on his or her lap.

At a time long ago, the Animals were living in the Forest together. Most of them were at peace with each other. But Leopard was discovered to be a bad person. All the other animals refused to be friendly with him. Also, Wild Rat, a small animal, was found out to be a deceiver.

One day, Rat went to visit Leopard, who politely gave him a chair, and Rat sat down. “Mbolo!” “Ai, Mbolo!” each saluted to the other. Leopard said to his visitor, “What’s the news?” Rat replied, “Njĕgâ! news is bad. In all the villages I passed through, in coming today, your name is only ill-spoken of, people saying, ‘Njĕgâ is bad! Njĕgâ is bad!’ ”

Leopard replies, “Yes, you do not lie. People say truly that Njĕgâ is bad. But, look you, Ntori, I, Njĕgâ, am an evil one: but my badness comes from other animals. Because, when I go out to visit, there is no one who salutes me. When anyone sees me, he flees with fear. But, for what does he fear me? I have not vexed him. So, I pursue the one that fears me. I want to ask him, ‘Why do you fear me?’ But, when I pursue it, it goes on fleeing more rapidly. So, I become angry, wrath rises in my heart, and if I overtake it, I kill it on the spot. One reason why I am bad is that. If the animals would speak to me properly, and did not flee from me, then, Ntori, I would not kill them. See! you, Ntori, have I seized you?” Rat replied, “No.” Then Leopard said, “Then, Ntori, come near to this table, that we may talk well.”

Rat, because of his subtlety and caution, when he took the chair given him on his arrival, had placed it near the door.

Leopard repeated, “Come near to the table.” Rat excused himself, “Never mind; I am comfortable here; and I came here today to tell you that it is not well for a person to be without friends; and, I, Ntori, I say to you, let us be friends.” Leopard said, “Very good!”

But now, even after this compact of friendship, Rat told falsehoods about Leopard; who, not knowing this, often had conversations with him, and would confide to him all the thoughts of his heart. For example, Leopard would tell to Rat, “Tomorrow I am going to hunt Ngowa, and next day I will go to hunt Nkambi,” or whatever the animal was. And Rat, at night, would go to Hog or to Antelope or the other animal, and say, “Give me pay, and I will tell you a secret.” They would lay down to him his price. And then he would tell them, “Be careful tomorrow. I heard that Njĕgâ was coming to kill you.” The same night, Rat would secretly return to his own house, and lie down as if he had not been out.

Then, next day, when Leopard would go out hunting, the Animals were prepared and full of caution, to watch his coming. There was none of them that he could find; they were all hidden. Leopard thus often went to the forest, and came back empty-handed. There was no meat for him to eat, and he had to eat only leaves of the trees. He said to himself, “I will not sit down and look for explanation to come to me. I will myself find out the reason of this. For, I, Njĕgâ, I should eat flesh and drink blood; and here I have come down to eating the food of goats, grass and leaves.”

So, in the morning, Leopard went to the great doctor Ra-Marânge, and said, “I have come to you, I, Njĕgâ. For these five or six months I have been unable to kill an animal. But, cause me to know the reason of this.” Ra-Marânge took his looking-glass and his harp, and struck the harp, and looked at the glass. Then he laughed aloud, “Kĕ, kĕ, kĕ—”

Leopard asked, “Ra-Marânge, for what reason do you laugh?” He replied, “I laugh, because this matter is a small affair. You, Njĕgâ, so big and strong, you do not know this little thing!” Leopard acknowledged, “Yes: I have not been able to find it out.” Ra-Marânge said, “Tell me the names of your friends.” Leopard answered “I have no friends. Nkambi dislikes me, Nyare refuses me, Ngowa the same. Of all animals, none are friendly to me.” Ra-Marânge said, “Not so; think exactly; think again.” Leopard was silent and thought; and then said, “Yes, truly, I have one friend, Ntori.” The Doctor said, “But, look! If you find a friend, it is not well to tell him all the thoughts of your heart. If you tell him two or three, leave the rest. Do not tell him all. But, you, Njĕgâ, you consider that Ntori is your friend, and you show him all the thoughts of your heart. But, do you know the heart of Ntori, how it is inside? Look what he does! If you let him know that you are going next day to kill this and that, then he starts out at night, and goes to inform those animals, ‘So-and-so, said Njĕgâ; but, be you on your guard.’ Now, look! if you wish to be able to kill other animals, first kill Ntori.” Leopard was surprised, “Ngâ! (actually) Ntori lies to me?” Ra-Marânge said, “Yes.”

So, Leopard returned to his town. And he sent a child to call Rat. Rat came.

Leopard said, “Ntori! these days you have not come to see me. Where have you been?” Rat replies, “I was sick.” Leopard says, “I called you today to sit at my table to eat.” Rat excused himself, “Thanks! but the sickness is still in my body; I will not be able to eat.” And he went away.

Whenever Rat visited or spoke to Leopard, he did not enter the house, but sat on a chair by the door. Leopard daily sent for him; he came; but constantly refrained from entering the house.

Leopard says in his heart, “Ntori does not approach near to me, but sits by the door. How shall I catch him?” Thinking and thinking, he called his wife, and said, “I have found a plan by which to kill Ntori. Tomorrow, I will lie down in the street, and you cover my body with a cloth as corpses are covered. Wear an old ragged cloth, and take ashes and mark your body, as in mourning; and go you out on the road wailing, ‘Njĕgâ is dead! Njĕgâ, the friend of Ntori is dead!’ And, for Ntori, when he shall come as a friend to the mourning, put his chair by me, and say, ‘Sit there near your friend.’ When he sits on that chair, I will jump up and kill him there.” His wife replies, “Very good!”

Next morning, Leopard, lying down in the street, pretended that he was dead. His wife dressed herself in worn-out clothes, and smeared her face, and went clear on to Rat’s village, wailing “Ah! Njĕgâ is dead! Ntori’s friend is dead!” Rat asked her, “But, Njĕgâ died of what disease? Yesterday, I saw him looking well, and today comes word that he is dead!” The wife answered, “Yes: Njĕgâ died without disease; just cut off! I wonder at the matter—I came to call you; for you were his friend. So, as is your duty as a man, go there and help bury the corpse in the jungle.” Rat went, he and Leopard’s wife together. And, behold, there was Leopard stretched out as a corpse! Rat asked the wife, “What is this matter? Njĕgâ! is he really dead?” She replied, “Yes: I told you so. Here is a chair for you to sit near your friend.”

Rat, having his caution, had not sat on the chair, but stood off, as he wailed, “Ah! Njĕgâ is dead! Ah! my friend is dead!”

Rat called out, “Wife of Njĕgâ! Njĕgâ, he was a great person: but did he not tell you any sign by which it might be known, according to custom, that he was really dead?” She replied, “No, he did not tell me.” (Rat, when he thus spoke, was deceiving the woman.) Rat went on to speak, “You, Njĕgâ, when you were living and we were friends, you told me in confidence, saying, ‘When I, Njĕgâ, shall die, I will lift my arm upward, and you will know that I am really dead.’ But, let us cease the wailing and stop crying. I will try the test on Njĕgâ, whether he is dead! Lift your arm!”

Leopard lifted his arm. Rat, in his heart, laughed, “Ah! Njĕgâ is not dead!” But, he proceeded, “Njĕgâ! Njĕgâ! you said, if really dead, you would shake your body. Shake! if it is so!” Leopard shook his whole body. Rat said openly, “Ah! Njĕgâ is dead indeed! He shook his body!” The wife said, “But, as you say he is dead, here is the chair for you, as chief friend, to sit on by him.” Rat said, “Yes: wait for me; I will go off a little while, and will come.” Leopard, lying on the ground, and hearing this, knew in his heart, “Ah! Ntori wants to flee from me! I will wait no longer!” Up he jumps to seize Rat, who, being too quick for him, fled away. Leopard pursued him with leaps and jumps so rapidly that he almost caught him. Rat got to his hole in the ground just in time to rush into it. But his tail was sticking out; and Leopard, looking down the hole, seized the tail.

Rat called out, “You have not caught me, as you think! What you are holding is a rootlet of a tree.” Leopard let go of the tail. Rat switched it in after him, and jeered at Leopard, “You had hold of my tail! And you have let it go! You will not catch me again!” Leopard, in a rage, said, “You will have to show me the way by which you will emerge from this hole; for, you will never come out of it alive!”

Some narrators carry the story on, with the ending of [Tale No. 6], the story of Rat, Leopard, Frog and Crab.

Leopard’s pretence of death appears also in [Tale No. 3].

TALE 2

Leopard’s Hunting Camp

Persons

• Ntori (A very large forest Rat)
• Njĕgâ (Leopard)

• And other Animals

NOTE

Besides the words for “hunger” and “famine,” the Bantu languages have a third word meaning, “longing for meat.” In this story, Leopard’s greed is matched by the artifice of Rat:—It was a practice of African natives to hide their ivory tusks in streams of water until a time convenient for selling them.

Polite natives will neither sit uninvited in the presence of their superiors, nor watch them while eating. If need be, to secure privacy, a temporary curtain will be put up, and the host will retire, leaving the guest alone. Rude or uncivilized tribes are offensive in their persistent effort to see a white foreigner’s mode of eating.

One of the tricks of native sorcerers is to jump into a fire.

It was a time of ngwamba (meat-hunger) among the Animals in Njambi’s Kingdom.

Leopard, being the eldest in his tribe, said to Rat, “Ntori! child! this is a hard time for meat. I think we better go to the forest, and make a olako (camp) for hunting.” Rat replied “Good! come on!”

So they began to arrange for the journey. The preparation of food, nets, baskets, and so forth, occupied several days. When all was ready, they started. Having come to a proper place in the forest, they selected a site where they would build up their booths. Leopard was to have his own separate camp with his wives and his children and his people; and Rat his, with his wives and his children, and his people.

So they began to make two camps. Leopard said, “Ntori! child! I have mine here. You go there yonder.” So they built their booths for sleeping-places; and rested another day; and then built their arala (drying frames) over their fire-places for smoke-drying the meat that they hoped to obtain. Next day, they prepared their guns, and started out on the hunt. On that very first day, they met game, and, ku! (bang) went their guns, killing an Elephant, and, ku! a wild Ox. Then Leopard said, “Ntori! child! we are successful! Let us begin the work of cutting up!”

After all the carcasses had been cut up, came the time to divide the meat between the two companies. So, Leopard said, “As I am your Uncle, I precede; I will choose first, and will give you the remainder.” So Leopard chose, taking out all the best pieces. When Rat saw that most of the meat was going to Leopard’s side, he thought it time to begin to get his share. But when Rat laid hold of a nice piece, Leopard would say, “No! child! do not take the best: that belongs to your Uncle”— and Leopard would claim the piece, and hand it over to his women. So it went on in the same way; to every nice piece that Rat chose, Leopard objected that it belonged to him. After Leopard had taken all he wanted, there were left only the bowels and the heads and legs for Rat.

Then they each went to their own camping-place, to spread the meat on their arala, and to cook their dinner. But, all the while that Rat was spreading bones and bowels on his orala, he was vexed; for, there was very little meat on those bones; while Leopard’s people’s arala were full of meat, and savory portions were simmering on their fires tied in bundles (agĕwu) of plantain leaves. At the noon meal, Leopard sat down with his family, and Rat with his. But Rat had only poor food; while Leopard and his people were rejoicing with rich meat.

The second day was very much the same as the first. It was Rat who did most of the hunting. With him it was, ku! (bang!), and some beast was down; and, ku! and some other beast was down. Whenever Rat fired, Leopard would shout out, “Ntori! child! what have you got?” And it was Rat who would shout in reply, “Nyare” (ox), or “Njâku” (elephant), or “Nkambi!” (antelope), or whatever the game might be. And it was Leopard who offensively patronized him, saying, “That is a good boy, Tata! (Little Father); bring it here to your Uncle.” Then Rat and all the servants would carry the carcass to Leopard. So that day, the cutting and dividing was just like the first day; Leopard claiming and taking the best, and leaving the skeleton and scraggy pieces and the bowels for Rat.

After that second day’s hunt, Rat was tired of this way of dividing, in which he got only the worthless pieces. So he decided to get back some of Leopard’s meat by artifice, for his own table, even if he had to take it from Leopard’s orala itself. He began to devise what he should do. As he was out walking, he came to a brook in which were sunken logs of hard heavy wood. They had lain there a long time, and were black with outside decay. With his machete in hand, he dived; and remaining under the water, he scraped the logs till he had removed the dark outside, and exposed the white inner wood. He kept on at the job scraping and scraping until the logs appeared white like ivory. Then he went back to Leopard’s camp, and, with pretence of excitement, exclaimed, “Mwe Njĕgâ! I think we will be going to be rich. You don’t know what I’ve found! Such a big ivory-tusk hidden in the water! I think we better leave off hunting meat, and go to get this fine ivory.” Leopard replied, “Good! come on!”

The next day, they first arranged their fires so that the smoke-drying of their meat might continue during their absence; and then started for the ivory. They all prepared themselves, for diving, by taking off their good clothing, and wearing only a small loin-cloth. Their entire companies went, men, women, and children, leaving not a single person in the camps.

Leopard says, “You, Ntori, go first, as you know where the place is.” Rat says, “Good! come on!” And they went on their way.

Arrived at the brook, Rat says, “You all come on, and dive.” Leopard asks, “My son! is it still there?” Rat, pointing, answers, “Yes! my ivory is there.” Leopard, looking down in the water says, “I see no ivory!” Rat, still pointing, replies, “There! Those white things! Don’t you see them?” Leopard says, “I never saw ivory look like logs.” Rat answered, “No? But this is a new kind. I assure you they are ivory! I have been down there, and I cleaned the mud off of them.” Leopard was satisfied, and said, “Good! come on!” And they all dived. They laid hold of the supposed ivory, and pulled, and pushed, and lifted, and worked. But it was stuck fast, and they could not move it.

While they were thus working, Rat suddenly cried out, “Njĕgâ! O! I forgot something! I must go quickly back to the olako. I will not be gone long. I shall return soon.”

Rat came out of the brook; ran to the camp; took of his own bundles of bones and scraggy pieces, and put them on Leopard’s drying-frames, and took the same number of bundles of good meat from Leopard’s frames. Then he ran back to the brook, to continue the work at the so-called ivory.

Soon after that, Rat says, “Mwe Njĕgâ! it is time to return to the olako; we have worked long; I am hungry.” Leopard says, “Good! come on!” So they returned to the camp to eat.

Rat says, “Njĕgâ! as I am so hungry, I will not wait with you, but will go to my own olako at once. And I will put up a curtain between us, as it is a shame for one to eat in the presence of his elder.”

So Rat put up a curtain; and opened a bundle of nice meat; and he and his people began to eat.

When Leopard took down one of his bundles, and opened it to share with his women, he was amazed, and said, “See! only bones and mean pieces! Ah! what is this matter!” And he called out to the other camp, “Ntori! Tata!” Rat responds, “Eh! Mwe Njĕgâ?” Leopard inquires, “What kind of meat are you eating?” Rat answers, “My own, from my own bundles. But what kind have you, Mwe Njĕgâ?” Leopard says, “My women prepared meat that was nice; but now I have only bones. I am surprised at that.”

The next, the fourth day, Rat said to Leopard, “I think we better change from the hard work on the ivory. Let us go hunting today; and tomorrow we will resume the ivory.” Leopard assented “Good! come on!” And they started out to hunt. They were successful again as on the previous days. At the time of the division of the meat, Rat showed no displeasure at Leopard’s taking the best pieces; as he had now his own artifice to get them back. And the meats of the day were placed on their owners’ respective drying-frames. By this day’s doings, many of Leopard’s baskets were full, ready to be taken to town, while most of Rat’s were still empty.

On the fifth day, they went to the brook again, to their fruitless work of pulling at the so-called ivory. The same things happened as before; Rat remembers that he has forgotten something; has to go in haste to the camp; rapidly changes the bundles on his and Leopard’s frames; returns to the brook; they all come back to the camp to eat; and there were repeated Leopard’s surprise, and his questions to Rat about the kinds of meat they were eating. Thus they continued; on alternate days hunting, and working at the ivory that was stuck immovably fast in the mud; and Rat stealing; and Leopard complaining.

Finally, Leopard became tired of his losses; and, one day, without letting anyone know what he intended doing, he said, “I will take a little walk.” Rat says, “You go alone? May I accompany you?” Leopard said, “No! I go alone; I won’t be long away; and I do not go far.”

So Leopard went to the wizard Ra-Marânge, whom as soon as he saw him, exclaimed, “What are you come for? Are you in trouble?” Leopard told him the matter of the losses of the meat. Then Ra-Marânge jumped into his fire, and emerged powerful and wise. And he said, “I will make for you something that will find out for you who it is that takes your meat.”

So Ra-Marânge made a little image of a man, and conferred on it wisdom and power, and gave it to Leopard, who took it to his camp, and hid it in his hut.

The next day they all resumed the work at the brook, with the ivory. There was the same diving, the same fruitless pulling, Rat’s same need of going back to the camp, and his same attempts at stealing. While he was doing this, he sees something like a little man standing near him. Rat puts out his hand to take from Leopard’s bundles as usual, and the image catches him by the wrist of that hand. Rat indignantly says, “You! this little fool! leave me! What do you catch me for?” But the image was silent; nor did it let go its hold. So Rat struck at it with his other hand. And the image caught that hand with its other hand. Then Rat was angry and kicked with one foot at a leg of the image. And that foot was retained by that leg of the image. Rat kicked with his remaining foot; it also was retained by the image’s other leg. He was thus held in the power of the image.

Rat, in desperation, said, “Let me go!” The image spoke, and simply said, “No!” Rat felt he was in a bad situation; but he put on a bold face. He knew that, by his long delay, the others must have given up the work at the brook, and would by now be returning to the camp; and, in a little while, he would be discovered. To forestall that discovery, he shouted out, “Mwe Nĕjgâ, come quickly! I’ve found the person who changes your bundles!” Leopard, on the path, heard his voice, and replied, “My child, is that so? Hold him fast!” Rat still daringly said, “Come quickly! He wants to get away from my grasp!” Leopard replied, “Hold fast! I am coming!” They all came hastily, both of Rat’s people, and of Leopard’s people; and there they saw Rat held fast by the hands and legs of the image. Leopard asked, “Where is he?” Rat, daring to the last, said, “This little man here that I am holding.” Leopard said, “Now that I am here, let go of him, for I will take charge of him.” Rat struggled, but in vain. Leopard several times repeated his direction to Rat, “Let go of him!” But Rat was utterly unable to withdraw his limbs from the power of the image. And he gave up the effort, in shame. Then Leopard had to help release Rat; the conferred power of the image being subservient to him. He did not strike Rat, he being his relative. But rebuked him, “Ah! Ntori! now I know it was you who made all the trouble about my meat!” And he took back all his fine bundles, and returned Rat his poor bundles. Rat went to his own camp ashamed, but still angry at the unjust division of the meat.

As Leopard’s baskets were now full, he announced that they should prepare to break camp, and return to town. Rat’s women murmured, “Ah! all going away, and our baskets almost empty!” Rat comforted them, “Yes; it is so; but, we will find a way to fill them!”

So, the next day, while the others were gone to get leaves and vines with which to tie up their baskets, Rat took his empty ones to the brook and filled them with stones, and tied them up with leaves, as if they contained meat.

On the following day, as they were about to start on their journey, Rat said to Leopard, “As you are the elder, go you first, and I will follow.” Leopard said, “Good! come on!” And they went on the path, Rat keeping close behind Leopard’s people. (Baskets being carried tied on the back with a strap over the forehead, the bearer leans heavily forward, and cannot see what is happening behind.) Rat had prepared a hook with a handle. From time to time, as they came to narrow places in the path where thorny branches met, he would strike the hook into some basket before him, and in pretence, would say, “Wait! a thorn on this branch has caught your basket! Let me unfasten it.” While the carrier would stand still for Rat to release the branch, the latter seized the chance to take pieces of meat from the basket, and substitute stones from his own baskets. The way was long; and, at every obstructed place, Rat kept on at his pretence of helping to free some basket of Leopard’s from the thorns that caught it, and changed pieces of good meat for his stones.

Before they reached Leopard’s town, darkness began to fall, and both companies were very tired, especially that of Leopard; for, their baskets seemed to have grown heavier. Rat said, “Njĕgâ! All this hard day’s walk! Hide our baskets, yours in one place, and mine in another, and let us go on to town and sleep; and we will send back our women for the baskets in the morning.” Leopard assented, “Good! come on!” So they left their baskets, and all went to town.

The next morning, Rat sent his people very, very early. Leopard sent his later, at the usual time of morning business. When his people were going they met Rat’s people coming back with their loads, and exclaimed, “You are loaded already!”

When Leopard’s people brought their baskets to the town, and opened them, they were amazed to find that they had little else than stones and bones. Leopard was very angry; and, going to Rat, he began to scold, “You have taken away my meat!” “No I have my own. Look! these baskets, you know them, they are mine! Perhaps some one stole your meat in the night and put the stones in place. But, as you are in such a trouble, I will share with you of mine.” So he called to his women, “Give Njĕgâ a few pieces of meat.” Leopard took the meat, and Rat and his people went away to their own town.

But Leopard was not satisfied. He was sure that Rat had played him a trick. He had forgiven Rat his stealing at the camp; but, for this last trick, he meditated revenge.

TALE 3

Tests of Death—1st Version

Persons

• Njĕgâ (Leopard)

• Ntori (Wild-Rat)

NOTE

It is the proper and most friendly mode, that relatives and friends should hasten to visit their sick, on the very first information, without waiting to be invited or summoned.

Leopard told his head-wife, “Ntori has taken our meat and deceived me in all these ways; I will kill him and eat him.”

So he pretended to be sick.

The next day, news was sent to Rat that his Uncle Leopard was sick of a fever.

The following day, word was again sent that he was very sick indeed, and that he wanted a parting word with Rat. Rat sent back a message, “I hear; and I will come tomorrow.”

Rat suspected some evil, and did not believe that Leopard was sick. So he went to the forest, and collected all kinds of insects that sting, and tied them into five little bundles.

Next day, word came to him, “Njĕgâ is dead.” Rat went quickly, taking the five little bundles with him.

When he reached Leopard’s town, he joined the crowd of mourners in the street, and lifted up his voice in wailing. Leopard’s head-wife went to him, and said, “Come into the house, and mourn with me, at your Uncle’s bed-side.” Rat went with her; but he did not take the seat that was offered him, as a near relative, at the supposed dead man’s head. He first explained, “After a person is reported dead, it is proper to make five tests to prove whether he is really dead, before we bury him.”

So he stood by the bed, at a point safe from Leopard’s hands, and opened a bundle, and lifting the shroud, quickly laid the bundle on Leopard’s naked body. The insects, infuriated by their imprisonment, flew out and attacked Leopard’s body, as it was the object nearest to them, and they were confined under the shroud. Leopard endured, and did not move.

Rat opened a second bundle, and thrust it also on another part of Leopard’s body. Leopard could scarcely refrain from wincing.

Rat opened a third, and laid it in the same way on another part. Leopard’s face began to twitch with the torture. Rat opening a fourth, used it in the same way; and Leopard in pain began to twist his body; but, when Rat opened the fifth bundle, Leopard could endure the stings no longer. He started up from the bed, holding a dagger he had hidden under the bed-clothing.

But Rat was too agile for him, and ran out before Leopard could fully rise from his supposed death-bed, and escaped to his own place. The mourners fled from the furious insects, and Leopard was left in agony under the poison of their stings.

TALE 3

Tests of Death—Second Version

Persons

• Njĕgâ (Leopard)
• Ibâbâ (Jackal)
• With Ngomba (Porcupine)
• Nkambi (Antelope)
• Njâgu (Elephant)
• Ihĕli (Gazelle)

• Ekaga (Tortoise)
• With Ndongo (Pepper)
• Hako (Ants)
• And Nyoi (Bees)
• And Others

NOTE

All of a neighborhood go to a mourning for a dead person. Failure to go would have been regarded, formerly, as a sign of a sense of guilt as the cause of the death. Formerly, at funerals, there was great destruction. Some of a man’s wives and slaves were buried with him, with a large quantity of his goods; and his fruit trees adjacent to the houses were ruthlessly cut down. All, as signs of grief; as much as to say, “If the beloved dead cannot longer enjoy these things, no one else shall.”

The ancestor of the leopards never forgave the ancestor of the gazelles, but nursed his wrath at the trick which the latter had played on him with the insects. Unable to catch gazelles, because of their adroitness, the leopard wrecks his anger on all other beasts by killing them at any opportunity.

These two beasts, Leopard and Jackal, were living together in the same town. Leopard said to Jackal, “My friend! I do not eat all sorts of food; I eat only animals.” So, one day, Leopard went to search for some beast in the forest. He wandered many hours, but could not find any for his food.

On another day, Leopard said to Jackal, “My friend! let us arrange some plan, by which we can kill some animal. For, I’ve wandered into the forest again and again, and have found nothing.” Leopard made these remarks to his friend in the dark of the evening. So they sat that night and planned and, after their conversation, they went to lie down in their houses. And they slept their sleep.

Then soon, the daylight broke. And Leopard, carrying out their plan, said to Jackal, “Take up your bedding, and put it out in the open air of the street.” Jackal did so. Leopard laid down on that mattress, in accordance with their plan, and stretched out like a corpse lying still, as if he could not move a muscle. He said to Jackal, “Call Ngomba, and let him come to me.” So Jackal shouted, “Come! Ngomba, come! That Beast that kills animals is dead! Come!”

So Porcupine came to the mourning, weeping, and wailing, as if he was really sorry for the death of his enemy. He approached near the supposed corpse. And he jeered at it. “This was the person who wasted us people; and this is his body!” Leopard heard this derision. Suddenly he leaped up. And Porcupine went down under his paw, dead. Then Leopard said to his friend Jackal, “Well! cut it up! and let us eat it.” And they finished eating it.

On another day, Leopard, again in the street, stretched himself on the bedding. At his direction, Jackal called for Antelope. Antelope came; and Leopard killed him, as he had done to Porcupine.

On another day, Ox was called. And Leopard did to Ox the same as he had done to the others.

On another day, Elephant was called in the same way; and he died in the same way.

In the same way, Leopard killed some of almost all the other beasts one after another, until there were left only two.

Then Jackal said, “Njĕgâ! my friend! there are left, of all the beasts, only two, Ihĕli and Ekaga. But, what can you do with Ihĕli? for, he has many artifices. What, also, can you do against Ekaga? for, he too, has many devices.” Leopard replied, “I will do as I usually have done; so, tomorrow, I will lie down again, as if I were a corpse.”

That day darkened into night.

And another daylight broke.

And Leopard went out of the house to lie down on the bedding in the street. Each limb was extended out as if dead; and his mouth open, with lower jaw fallen, like that of a dead person.

Then Jackal called, “Ihĕli! come here! That person who wastes the lives of the beasts is dead! He’s dead!”

Gazelle said to himself, “I hear! So! Njĕgâ is dead? I go to the mourning!” Gazelle lived in a town distant about three miles. He started on the journey, taking with him his spear and bag; but, he said to himself, “Before I go to the mourning, I will stop on the way at the town of Ekaga.”

He came to the town of Tortoise, and he said to him, “Chum! have you heard the news? That person who kills Beasts and Mankind is dead!” But Tortoise answered, “No! go back to your town! that person is not dead. Go back!” Gazelle said, “No! For, before I go back to my town, I will first go to Njĕgâ’s to see.” So Tortoise said, “If you are determined to go there, I will tell you something.” Gazelle exclaimed, “Yes! Uncle, speak!”

Then Tortoise directed him, “Take ndongo.” Gazelle took some. Tortoise said, “Take also Hako, and take also Nyoi. Tie them all up in a bundle of plantain leaves.” (He told Gazelle to do all these things, as a warning.) And Tortoise added, “You will find Njĕgâ with limbs stretched out like a corpse. Take a machete with you in your hands. When you arrive there, begin to cut down the plantain-stalks. And you must cry out ‘Who killed my Uncle? who killed my uncle?’ If he does not move, then you sit down and watch him.”

So Gazelle went, journeyed and came to that town of mourning. He asked Jackal, “Ibâbâ! This person, how did he die?” Jackal replied, “Yesterday afternoon this person was seized with a fever; and today, he is a corpse.” Gazelle looked at Leopard from a distance, his eyes fixed on him, even while he was slashing down the plantains, as he was told to do. But, Leopard made no sign, though he heard the noise of the plantain-stalk falling to the ground. Presently, Jackal said to Gazelle, “Go near to your Uncle’s bed, and look at the corpse.”

Leopard began in his heart to arrange for a spring, being ready to fight, and thinking, “What time Ihĕli shall be near me, I will kill him.”

Gazelle approached, but carefully stood off a rod distant from the body of Leopard. Then Gazelle drew the bundle of Ants out of his bag, and said to himself, “Is this person, really dead? I will test him!” But, Gazelle stood warily ready to flee at the slightest sign. He quickly opened the bundle of insects; and he joined the three, the Ants, the Bees, and the Pepper, all in one hand; and, standing with care, he threw them at Leopard.

The bundle of leaves, as it struck Leopard, flew open. Being released, the Bees rejoiced, saying, “So! I sting Njĕgâ!” Pepper also was glad, saying, “So! I will make him perspire!” Ants also spitefully exclaimed, “I’ve bitten you!”

The pain of all these made Leopard jump up in wrath; and he leaped toward Gazelle. But he dashed away into the forest, shouting as he disappeared, “I’m not an Ihĕli of the open prairie, but of the forest wilderness!”

So, he fled and came to the town of Tortoise. There he told Tortoise, “You are justified! Njĕgâ indeed is not dead! He was only pretending, in order to kill.”

And Tortoise, remarked, “I am the doyen of Beasts. Being the eldest, if I tell any one a thing, he should not contradict me.”

TALE 4

Tasks Done for a Wife

Place

In Njambi’s Kingdom

Persons

• A Rich Merchant and his Daughter
• Njâgu (Elephant)
• Njĕgâ (Leopard)
• Njina (Gorilla)

• Nguvu (Hippopotamus)
• Ekaga (Tortoise)
• Mbodi (An Enormous Goat)
• Servants, and Townspeople

NOTE

The artifices of Tortoise compete with the strength of Leopard. The story of the Giant Goat is a separate Tale in [No. 32], of Part Second.

In the time when Mankind and all other Animals lived together, to all the Beasts the news came that there was a Merchant in a far country, who had a daughter, for whom he was seeking a marriage. And he had said, “I do not want money to be the dowry that shall be paid by a suitor for my daughter. But, whosoever shall do some difficult works, which I shall assign him, to him I will give her.”

All the Beasts were competing for the prize.

First, Elephant went on that errand. The merchant said to him, “Do such-and-such tasks, and you shall have my daughter. More than that, I will give you wealth also.” Elephant went at the tasks, tried, and failed; and came back saying he could not succeed.

Next, Gorilla stood up; he went. And the merchant told him, in the same way as to Elephant, that he was to do certain tasks. Gorilla tried, and failed, and came back disgusted.

Then, Hippopotamus advanced, and said he would attempt to win the woman. His companions encouraged him with hopes of success, because of his size and strength. He went, tried, and failed.

Thus, almost all beasts attempted, one after another; they tried to do the tasks, and failed.

At last there were left as contestants, only Leopard and Tortoise. Neither was disheartened by the failure of the others; each asserted that he would succeed in marrying that rich daughter. Tortoise said, “I’m going now!” But Leopard said, “No! I first!” Tortoise yielded, “Well, go; you are the elder. I will not compete with you. Go you, first!” Leopard went, and made his application. The merchant said to him, “Good! that you have come. But, the others came, and failed. Try you.” Leopard said, “Very well.” He tried, and failed, and went back angry.

Tortoise then went. He saluted the merchant, and told him he had come to take his daughter. The merchant said, “Do so; but try to do the tasks first.”

Tortoise tried all the tasks, and did them all. The first was that of a calabash dipper that was cracked. The merchant said to him, “You take this cracked calabash and bring it to me full of water all the way from the spring to this town.” Tortoise looking and examining, objected, “This calabash! cracked! how can it carry water?” The merchant replied, “You yourself must find out. If you succeed, you marry my daughter.”

Tortoise took the calabash to the spring. Putting it into the water, he lifted it. But the water all ran out before he had gone a few steps. Again he did this, five times; and the water was always running out. Sitting, he meditated, “What is this? How can it be done?” Thinking again, he said, “I’ll do it! I know the art how!” He went to the forest, took gum of the Okume (mahogany tree) lighted a fire, melted the gum, smeared it over the crack, and made it water-tight; then, dipping the calabash into the spring, it did not leak. He took it full to the father-in-law, and called out, “Father-in-law! this is the calabash of water.” The merchant asked, “But what did you do to it?” He answered “I mended it with gum.” The father said, “Good for you! The others did not think of that easy simple solution. You have sense!”

Tortoise then said, “I have finished this one task; today has passed. Tomorrow I will begin on the other four.”

The next morning, he came to receive his direction from the merchant, who said, “Ekaga! you see that tall tree far away? At the top are fruits. If you want my daughter, pluck the fruits from the top, and you shall marry her.”

Tortoise went and stood watching and looking and examining the tree. Its trunk was all covered with soap, and impossible to be climbed. He returned to the merchant, and asked, “That fruit you wish, may it be obtained in any way, even if one does not climb the tree?” He was answered, “Yes, in any way, except cutting down the tree. Only so that I get the fruit, I am satisfied.”

Tortoise had already tried from morning to afternoon to climb that tree, but could not. So, after he had asked the merchant his question, he went back to the tree; and from evening, all night and until morning, he dug about the roots till they were all free. And the tree fell, without his having “cut” the trunk at all. So he took the fruit to the Merchant, and told him that he had not “cut down” the tree, but that he had it “dug up.” The merchant said, “You have done well. People who came before you failed to think of that. Good for you!”

On the third day, the merchant said to the spectators, “I will not name the other three tasks. You, my assistants, may name them.” So they thought of one task after another. But one and another said, “No, that is not hard; let us search for a harder.” Finally, they found three hard tasks. Tortoise was ready for and accomplished them all.

Then the merchant announced, “Now, you may marry my daughter; and tomorrow you shall make your journey.” They made a great feast; an ox was killed; and they had songs and music all night, clear on till morning.

But, while all this was going on, Leopard, who was left at his town, was saying to himself, “This Ekaga! He has stayed five days! Had he failed, he would not have stayed so long! So! he has been able to do the tasks! Is that a good thing?” (On the day that Tortoise started on the journey to seek the merchant’s daughter, Leopard had been heard to say, “If Ekaga succeeds in getting that wife, I will take her from him by force.”)

When Tortoise was ready to start on his return journey with his wife, the father-in-law gave him very many things, slaves and goats and a variety of goods, and said, “Go, you and your wife and these things. I send people to escort you part of the way. They are not to go clear on to your town, but are to turn back on the way.”

Tortoise and company journeyed. When the escort were about to turn back, Tortoise said, “Day is past. Make an olako (camp) here. We sleep here; and, in the morning, you shall go back.” That night he thought, “Njĕgâ said he would rob me of my wife. Perhaps he may come to meet me on the way!” So, he swallowed all of the things, to hide them,—wife, servants, and all.

While Tortoise was thus on the way, Leopard had planned not to wait his return to town, but had set out to meet him. So, in the morning, the two, journeying in opposite directions, met. Tortoise gave Leopard a respectful “Mbolo!” and Leopard returned the salutation. Leopard asked, “What news? That woman, have you married her?” Tortoise answered, “That woman! Not at all!” Leopard looking at Tortoise’s style and manner as of one proud of success, said, “Surely you have married; for you look happy, and show signs of success.” But Tortoise swore he had not married.

Leopard only said, “Good.” Then Tortoise asked, “But, where are you going?” Leopard answered, “I am going out walking and hunting. But you, where are you going?” Tortoise replied, “I did not succeed in marrying the woman; so I am going back to town. I tried, but I failed.”

“But,” said Leopard, “what then makes your belly so big?” Tortoise replied, “On the way I found an abundance of mushrooms, and I ate heartily of them. If you do not believe it, I can show you them by vomiting them up.” Leopard said, “Never mind to vomit. Go on your journey.”

And Leopard went on his way. But, soon he thought, “Ah! Ekaga has lied to me!” So he ran around back, and came forward to meet Tortoise again.

Tortoise looked and saw Leopard coming, and observed that his face was full of wrath. He feared, but said to himself, “If I flee, Njĕgâ will catch me. I will go forward and try artifice.” As he approached Leopard, the latter was very angry, and said, “You play with me! You say you have not married the woman I wanted. Tell me the truth!” Tortoise again swore an oath, “No! I have not married the woman! I told you I ate mushrooms, and offered to show you; and you refused.” So Leopard said, “Well, then, vomit.” Tortoise bent over, and vomited and vomited mushrooms and mushrooms; and then said triumphantly, “So! Njĕgâ you see!” Leopard looked, and said, “But, Ekaga, your belly is still full,—go on vomiting.” Tortoise tried to excuse himself, “I have done vomiting.” Leopard persisted, “No! keep on at it.” Tortoise went on retching; and a box of goods fell out of his mouth. Leopard still said, “Go on!” and Tortoise vomited in succession a table and other furniture. He was compelled to go on retching; and slaves came out. And at last, up was vomited the woman!

Leopard shouted, “Ah! Ekaga! you lied! You said you had not married! I will take this woman!” And he took her, sarcastically saying, “Ekaga, you have done me a good work! You have brought me all these things, these goods, and slaves, and a wife! Thank you!”

Tortoise thought to himself, “I have no strength for war.” So, though anger was in his heart, he showed no displeasure in his face. And they all went on together toward their town. With wrath still in his heart, he went clear on to the town, and then made his complaint to each of the townspeople. But they all were afraid of Leopard, and said nothing, nor dared to give Tortoise even sympathy.

There was in that country among the mountains, an enormous Goat. The other beasts, all except Leopard, were accustomed to go to that Goat, when hungry, and say, “We have no meat to eat.” And the Goat allowed them to cut pieces of flesh from his body. He could let any part of the interior of his body be taken except his heart. All the Animals had agreed among themselves not to tell Leopard where they got their meat, lest he, in his greediness, would go and take the heart. So they had told him they got their meat as he did, hunting.

Tortoise, angry because Leopard has taken his wife, said to himself, “I will make a cause of complaint against Njĕgâ that shall bring punishment upon him from our King. I will cause Njĕgâ to kill that Goat.” On another day, Tortoise went and got meat from the Goat, and came back to town, and did not hide it from Leopard. Leopard said to him, “Ekaga! where did you get this meat?” Tortoise whispered, “Come to my house, and I will tell you.” They went. And Tortoise divided the meat with him, and said, “Do not tell on me: but, we get the meat off at a great Goat. Tomorrow, I go; and you, follow behind me.”

So, the next day, they went, Tortoise as if by himself, and Leopard following, off to the great Goat. Arrived there, Leopard wondered at the sight, “O! this great Goat! But, from where do you take its meat?” Tortoise replied, “Wait for me! You will see!” He went, and Leopard followed. Tortoise said to the Goat, “We have meat-hunger: we come to seek meat from you.” The Goat’s mouth was open as usual; Tortoise entered, and Leopard followed, to get flesh from inside. In the Goat’s interior was a house, full of meat; and they entered it. Leopard wondered at its size; and Tortoise told him, “Cut where you please, but not from the heart, lest the Goat die.” And they began to take meat. Leopard, with greediness, coveting the forbidden heart, went with knife near to it.

Tortoise exclaimed, “There! there! be careful.” But Leopard, though he had enough other flesh, longed for the heart, and was not satisfied. He again approached with the knife near it: and Tortoise warned and protested. These very prohibitions caused Leopard to have his own way, and his greediness overcame him. He cut the heart: and the Goat fell dying.

Tortoise exclaimed, “Eh! Njĕgâ! I told you not to touch the heart! Because of this matter I will inform on you.” And he added, “Since it is so, let us go.”

But Leopard said, “Goat’s mouth is shut. How shall we get out? Let us hide in this house.” And he asked, “Where will you hide?” Tortoise replied, “In the stomach.” Leopard said, “Stomach! It is the very thing for me, Njĕgâ, myself!” So Ekaga consented, “Well! take it! I will hide in the gall-bladder.” So they hid, each in his place.

Soon, as they listened, they heard voices shouting, “The Goat is dead! A fearful thing! The Goat is dead!”

That news spread, and all who had been accustomed to get flesh there, came to see what was the matter. They all said that, as the Goat was dead, it was best to cut and divide him. They slit open the belly, and said, “Lay aside this big stomach; it is good; but throw away the bitter gall-sac.” They looked for the heart; but there was none! A child, to whom had been handed the gall-bladder to throw it away, was flinging it into some bushes. As he did so, out jumped something from among the bushes; and the child asked, “Who are you?” The thing replied, pretending to be vexed, “I am Ekaga; I come here with the others to get meat, and you, just as I arrived, throw that dirty thing in my face!” The other people pacified him, “Do not get angry. Excuse the child. He did not see you. You shall have your share.”

Then Tortoise called out, “Silence! silence! silence!”

They all stood ready to listen, and he said, “Do not cut up the Goat till we first know who killed it. That stomach there! What makes it so big?” Leopard, in the stomach, heard; but he did not believe that Tortoise meant it, and thought to himself, “What a fool is this Ekaga, in pretending to inform on me, by directing attention to the stomach!” Tortoise ordered, “All you, take your spears, and stick that stomach! For the one who killed Goat is in it!” And they all got their spears ready.

Leopard did not speak or move; for, he still thought Tortoise was only joking. Tortoise began with his spear, and the others all thrust in. And Leopard holding the heart, was seen dying! All shouted, “Ah! Njĕgâ killed our Goat! Ah! he’s the one who killed it.” Tortoise taunted Leopard, “Asai! (shame for you) you took my wife; and now you are dead!” Leopard died. They divided the Goat, and returned to town. Tortoise took again his wife and all his goods, now that Leopard was dead. And he was satisfied that his artifice had surpassed Leopard’s strength.

TALE 5

A Tug-of-War

Persons

• Ekaga (Tortoise)
• Njâgu (Elephant)

• Ngubu (Hippopotamus)

NOTE

African natives are sensitive about questions of equality and seniority. A certain term, “Mwĕra” (chum) may be addressed to other than an equal, only at risk of a quarrel.

A story of the trick by which Tortoise apparently proved himself the equal of both Elephant and Hippopotamus.

Observe the preposterous size of Elephant’s trunk! But everything, to the native African mind, was enormous in the pre-historic times.

Leopard was dead, after the accusation against him by Tortoise for killing the great Goat. The children of Leopard were still young; they had not grown to take their father’s power and place. And Tortoise considered himself now a great personage. He said to people, “We three who are left,—I and Njâgu and Ngubu, are of equal power; we eat at the same table, and have the same authority.” Every day he made these boasts; and people went to Elephant and Hippopotamus, reporting, “So-and-so says Ekaga.” Elephant and Hippopotamus laughed, and disregarded the report, and said, “That’s nothing, he’s only to be despised.”

One day Hippopotamus met Elephant in the forest; salutations were made, “Mbolo!” “Ai, mbolo!” each to the other. Hippopotamus asked Elephant about a new boast that Tortoise had been making, “Have you, or have you not heard?” Elephant answered, “Yes, I have heard. But I look on it with contempt. For, I am Njâgu. I am big. My foot is as big as Ekaga’s body. And he says he is equal to me! But, I have not spoken of the matter, and will not speak, unless I hear Ekaga himself make his boast. And then I shall know what I will do.” And Hippopotamus also said, “I am doing so too, in silence. I wait to hear Ekaga myself.”

Tortoise heard of what Elephant and Hippopotamus had been threatening, and he asked his informant just the exact words that they had used, “They said that they waited to hear you dare to speak to them; and that, in the meanwhile, they despised you.”

Tortoise asked, “So! they despise me, do they?” “Yes,” was the reply. Then he said, “So! indeed, I will go to them.” He told his wife, “Give me my coat to cover my body.” He dressed; and started to the forest. He found Elephant lying down; his trunk was eight miles long; his ears as big as a house, and his four feet beyond measure.

Tortoise audaciously called to him, “Mwĕra! I have come! You don’t rise to salute me? Mwĕra has come!” Elephant looked, rose up and stared at Tortoise, and indignantly asked, “Ekaga! whom do you call ‘Mwĕra’?” Tortoise replied, “You! I call you ‘Mwĕra.’ Are you not, Njâgu?” Elephant, with great wrath, asked, “Ekaga! I have heard you said certain words. It is true that you said them?”

Tortoise answered, “Njâgu, don’t get angry! Wait, let us first have a conversation.” Then he said to Elephant, “I did call you, just now, ‘Mwĕra’; but, you, Njâgu, why do you condemn me? You think that, because you are of great expanse of flesh, you can surpass Ekaga, just because I am small? Let us have a test. Tomorrow, sometime in the morning, we will have a lurelure (tug-of-war).” Said Elephant, “Of what use? I can mash you with one foot.” Tortoise said, “Be patient. At least try the test.” So, Elephant, unwilling, consented. Tortoise added, “But, when we tug, if one overpulls the other, he shall be considered the greater; but, if neither, then we are Mwĕra.”

Then Tortoise went to the forest, and cut a very long vine, and coming back to Elephant, said “This end is yours. I go off into the forest with my end to a certain spot, and tomorrow I return to that spot; and we will have our tug, and neither of us will stop, to eat or sleep until either you pull me over or the vine breaks.” Tortoise went far off with his end of the vine to the town of Hippopotamus, and hid the vine’s end at the outskirts of the town. He went to Hippopotamus and found him bathing, and going ashore, back and forth, to and from the water. Tortoise shouted to him, “Mwĕra! I have come! You! Come ashore! I am visiting you!” Hippopotamus came bellowing in great wrath with wide open jaws, ready to fight, and said, “I will fight you today! For, whom do you call ‘Mwĕra’?”

Tortoise replied, “Why! you! I do not fear your size. Our hearts are the same. But, don’t fight yet! Let us first talk.” Hippopotamus grunted, and sat down; and Tortoise said, “I, Ekaga, I say that you and I and Njâgu are equal, we are Mwĕra. Even though you are great and I small, I don’t care. But if you doubt me, let us have a trial. Tomorrow morning let us have a lurelure. He who shall overcome, shall be the superior. But, if neither is found superior, then we are equals.” Hippopotamus exclaimed that the plan was absurd; but, finally he consented.

Tortoise then stood up, and went out, and got his end of the vine, and brought it to Hippopotamus, and said, “This end is yours. And I now go. Tomorrow, when you feel the vine shaken, know that I am ready at the other end; and then you begin, and we will not stop to eat or sleep until this test is ended.”

Hippopotamus then went to the forest to gather leaves of Medicine with which to strengthen his body. And Elephant, at the other end, was doing the same, making medicine to give himself strength; and at night they were both asleep.

In the morning, Tortoise went to the middle of the vine, where at its half-way, he had made on the ground a mark; and he shook it towards one end, and then towards the other. Elephant caught his end, as he saw it shake, and Hippopotamus did the same at his end. “Orindi went back and forth” (a proverb of a fish of that name that swims in that way), Elephant and Hippopotamus alternately pulling. “Nkĕndinli was born of his father and mother” (a proverb, meaning distinctions in individualities). Each one, Hippopotamus and Elephant, doing in his own way. Tortoise smiled at his arrangement with each, that, in the tug, if one overcame, it would be proved by his dragging the other; but, if neither overcame, they were not to cease, until the vine broke.

Elephant holding the vine taut, and Hippopotamus also holding it taut, Tortoise was laughing in his heart as he watched the quivering vine.

He went away to seek for food, leaving those two at their tug, in hunger. He went off into the forest and found his usual food, mushrooms. He ate his belly full, and then took his drink; and then went to his town to sleep.

He rose in late afternoon, and said to himself, “I’ll go and see about the tug, whether those fools are still pulling.” When he went there, the vine was still stretched taut; and he thought, “Asai! shame! let them die with hunger!” He sat there, the vine trembling with tensity, and he in his heart mocking the two tired beasts. The one drew the other toward himself; and then, a slight gain brought the mark back; but neither was overcoming.

At last Tortoise nicked the vine with his knife; the vine parted; and, at their ends, Elephant and Hippopotamus fell violently back onto the ground. Tortoise said to himself, “So! that’s done! Now I go to Elephant with one end of the broken vine; tomorrow to Hippopotamus.” He went, and came on to Elephant, and found him looking dolefully, and bathing his leg with medicine, and said, “Mwĕra! How do you feel? Do you consent that we are Mwĕra?” Elephant admitted, “Ekaga, I did not know you were so strong! When the vine broke, I fell over and hurt my leg. Yes, we are really equal. Really! strength is not because the body is large. I despised you because your body was small. But actually, we are equal in strength!”

So they ate and drank and played as chums; and Tortoise returned to his town.

Early the next morning, with the other end of the broken vine, he went to visit Hippopotamus, who looked sick, and was rubbing his head, and asked, “Ngubu! How do you feel, Mwĕra?” Hippopotamus answered, “Really! Ekaga! so we are equals! I, Ngubu, so great! And you, Ekaga, so small! We pulled and pulled. I could not surpass you, nor you me. And when the vine broke, I fell and hurt my head. So, indeed strength has no greatness of body.” Tortoise and Hippopotamus ate and drank and played; and Tortoise returned to his town.

After that, whenever they three and others met to talk in palaver (council) the three sat together on the highest seats. Were they equal? Yes, they were equal.

TALE 6

Agĕnda: Rat’s Play on a Name

Persons

• Njĕgâ (Leopard)
• Ntori (Rat)

• Rângi (Frog)
• Igâmbâ (Crab)

NOTE

In native African etiquette, a company of persons is saluted with the use of the verb in the plural; but only the oldest, or the supposed leader, if his name is known, is mentioned by name.

The native custom among polite tribes, is to leave a guest to eat without being watched.

The twitching of a muscle of an arm, or any other part of the body (called okalimambo) is regarded as a sign of coming evil. Compare Macbeth, Act 4, Scene 1.

“By the pricking of my thumb

Something wicked this way comes.”

The absurd and the unreasonable (e.g., the swallowing of a wife, goats, servants, etc.) are a constant feature of the native legends in their use of the impossible.

All native Africans have more than one name, and often change their names to suit circumstances. But, while all their names have a meaning (just as our English names, “Augustus,” “Clara,” etc.) those meanings are not thought of when denominating an individual; e.g., “Bwalo” which means canoe.

Leopards do not like to wet their feet.

Leopard wanted a new wife. So he sought for a young woman of a far country, of whom he heard as a nice girl, a daughter of one of the Kings of that country. He did not go himself, but sent word, and received answer by messenger. Neither the woman nor her father had ever seen Leopard. They knew of him only by reputation.

The King was pleased with the proposed alliance, and assented, saying, “Yes! I am willing. Go! get yourself ready, and come with your marriage company.” So Leopard went around and invited many other beasts, “Come! and help me get a new one!” They all replied, “Yes!” And they all started together for the King’s town.

When they had gone half-way, one of their number, a big forest Rat said, “Brothers! let us begin here to change our names, so that when we get to the town, we shall not be known by our usual names.” But Leopard refused, “No! I won’t! I stick by my old name. My name is Njĕgâ.” All the others said the same, and retained their own names.

But Rat insisted for himself, “I will not be called Ntori. I will be called ‘Strangers.’ My name is Agĕnda,” (the plural of ogĕnda which means “stranger”).

When they approached the town, the inhabitants, with great politeness, ran out to welcome them, shouting, “Agĕnda! Saleni, Saleni!” (Strangers! Welcome ye! welcome ye!) Rat turned to the company and said, “Hear that! you see they are saluting me as the leader of this company.”

Upon their entering the town, they were shown to the large public Reception-House; and the people said to them, “Now! strangers (Agĕnda!), march in!” Rat turned again to his companions, and said, “You see! they have again addressed me specially by name, asking me to take possession of this room.”

They all went in feeling uncomfortably; but Rat said to them, “Never mind! though this room was evidently prepared specially for me, I am not selfish, and I invite you to share it with me.”

After the visitors had all been seated, the people came to give them the formal final salutation, saying “Strangers (Agĕnda), mbolani! (long life to ye).” Rat promptly whispered to his companions, saying, “This mbolo is to me for you, I alone will respond to it.” So, only he replied, “Ai Mbolani! Ai.” (Mbolani is the second person plural of the irregular defective verb Mbolo equal to “live long.”)

The day passed. In the evening, the people brought in an abundant supply of food, and set it down on the table, saying, “Strangers (Agĕnda!), eat! Here is your food!” And they went out, closing the door, so that the guests in their eating should not be annoyed by spectators. Then Rat said, “You see! All this food is mine, though I am not able to eat it all.” He alone began to eat of it. When he had satisfied his appetite, he said, “Truly this food is my own, but I am sorry for you, and I will give you of it.” So he gave out to each, one by one, very small pieces of fish and plantain.

In the morning, the people thoughtfully sent water for the usual morning washing of hands and face. Rat hasted to open the door; and the slaves carrying the vessels of water, said to him, “These are sent to the strangers (Agĕnda).” So Rat took the water and used it all for himself.

This second day was a repetition of the first. The townspeople continued their hospitality, sending food and drink and tobacco and fruits; and making many kind inquiries of what “the Agĕnda” would like to have. Rat, received all these things as for himself; while the rest of the company felt themselves slighted, and were hungry and disgusted.

On the third day, the company said among themselves, “Njĕgâ told us that our visit was to last the usual five days; but we cannot stand such treatment as this!” And they began to run away, one by one. Even Leopard himself followed them, provoked at his expected father-in-law’s supposed neglect of him. But, before Leopard had gone, Rat went to the bride elect, and said, “I never saw such a party as this! They do not eat, and are not willing to await the Marriage Dance for the Bride on the fifth day.”

When they were all secretly gone, leaving Rat alone, he said to the woman, “I will tell them all to go, even my friend Njĕgâ whom I brought to escort me. But I will not go without you, even if we have not had the dance; for, I am the one who was to marry you.” And the father of the girl said to Rat, “Since they have treated you so, never mind to call them again for the Dance. You just take your wife and go.”

So the King gave his daughter farewell presents of boxes of clothing, and two female servants to help her, and a number of goats, and men-servants to carry the baggage.

Rat and wife and attendants set out on their journey. When they were far away from the King’s town, Rat exclaimed, “I feel okalimambo (premonition).” (He suspected that Leopard was somewhere near.) So he dismissed the men-servants, and sent them back to the King. And then quickly, in order to hide them, he swallowed the woman and the two maid-servants and all the boxes of clothing, and the goats.

Rat then went on, and on, and on, with his journey, until at a cross-roads, he saw Leopard coming cross-ways toward him; and he called out, “Who are you?” The reply came, “I am Njĕgâ. And who are you?” Rat answered, “Ntori.”

Then Leopard called to him, “Come here!” “No!” said Rat, “I am in a hurry, and want to get home—” And he went on without stopping. So Leopard said, “Well, I pass on my way too!” “Good!” said Rat, “Pass on!” And they went on their separate ways.

But Leopard, at a turn in his road, rounded back, and hasted by another path to get in front of Rat. When Leopard again saw Rat a short distance before him, he calls out, “Who are you?” The reply was “Ntori; and who are you?” Leopard answered, “I’m Njĕgâ. Stop on your way, and come here to me!” Rat replied, “No! you asked me once before to stop, and I refused. And I refuse now; I must pass on.”

Because of Rat’s unwillingness to stop, Leopard began to chase him, and to shout at him, “You have my wife!” Rat answered back, “No! I have no wife of yours!” “You lie! You have the woman with you. What makes your body so big?”

Rat ran as fast as he could, with Leopard close after him. Rat’s home is always a hole in the ground; and, as he was hard pressed in his flight, he dashed into the first hole he came to, which happened to be a small opening into a cave. But his tail was not yet drawn in and Leopard was so near that he seized it. Projecting from the mouth of the hole there was also the small root of a tree. Rat called out, “Friend Njĕgâ! what do you think you have caught hold of?” “Your tail!” said Leopard. Said Rat, “That is not my tail! this other thing near you is my tail!” So Leopard let go of the tail, and seized the root. Rat slid quickly to the bottom of the hole, and called out, “O! Njĕgâ! I did not think you were so silly! You had hold of my tail, and you let me go! You just look at your hand; you will see my tail-hairs clinging to it!”

Leopard went away in wrath; and, finding Frog at a near-by brook, he said to him, “Rângi! you just watch. I do not want Ntori to escape from that hole. Watch, while I go to get some fire, with which to burn him out.”

Shortly after Leopard had gone, Rat began to creep out. Seeing Frog standing on guard, he said, “Good Rângi! let me pass!” But Frog replied, “No! I have my orders to watch you here.” Then said Rat, “If that is so, why don’t you come close here, and attend to your duty? You are too far from this hole. If a person is set to watch, he should be near the thing he watches. As far as you are there, I could, if I tried, get out without your catching me. So, it is better for you to have a good look down this hole.” While Rat was saying all this, he was near the mouth of the hole; but, as Frog approached, he receded to the bottom, and went to the back end of the cave, where cayenne pepper bushes were growing. Frog came to the edge of the hole, and looking down, saw nothing.