[[1]]
WEST AFRICAN
FOLK-TALES [[2]]
NATIVE CHILDREN READY FOR A STORY
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WEST AFRICAN FOLK-TALES
COLLECTED AND ARRANGED BY
W. H. BARKER B.Sc.
FORMERLY PRINCIPAL OF THE GOVERNMENT INSTITUTION ACCRA
AND
CECILIA SINCLAIR
WITH FRONTISPIECE & TWENTY-THREE DRAWINGS BY
CECILIA SINCLAIR
LONDON
GEORGE G. HARRAP & COMPANY
2 & 3 PORTSMOUTH STREET KINGSWAY W.C.
MCMXVII
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PRINTED AT
THE COMPLETE PRESS, WEST NORWOOD
LONDON, ENGLAND [[5]]
CONTENTS
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ILLUSTRATIONS
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INTRODUCTION
In presenting to the public these stories based on the folk-lore of the Gold Coast peoples, it seems necessary to say something in general terms of the economic and social development of the colony in so far as that development is affecting the ‘lore’ of the folk.
Not until the civilization and industrialism of Europe began to penetrate into the districts of the Guinea Coast was any great attempt made to study the folk-lore of these peoples. It is obvious, therefore, that the student must find considerable admixture from outside sources which the absence of a native system of writing and consequent literature makes exceedingly difficult to detect. The difficulties increase with time, for we are getting farther and farther from the genuine folk-lore. Each year, from towns like Accra, Seccondee, and Cape Coast the tentacles of European civilization are slowly extending in all directions. Railways and roads are creeping [[12]]out, old-fashioned crudity is giving way to simpler and more expeditious methods; new industries, as rubber and cocoa, are being established.[1] All this must be borne in mind in studying the folk-lore as told by the native to-day. What is happening is, unfortunately, not an awakening, but a transformation. The negro is discarding his native cloth for a European suit of clothes.
“On all sides it is reported that the demand for European provisions, luxuries, and apparel is large and greatly increasing. The large imports of tinned provisions, flour, etc., is in part due to the scarcity of native food-stuffs in certain districts, but there is no doubt that the standard of living is changing and rising.
“There is a general desire not only in the colony, but in Ashanti, for better roads, better houses, cleaner villages, and the desire has been prompted by the example of the great sanitary improvements in the larger towns.…
“It can be observed that the people take a growing pride in the institutions and traditions of their country, that the chiefs are realizing the duties and [[13]]influence of their position, and that public opinion, among the educated classes, at any rate, is beginning to recognize that some advance on the ideals and standards of the past must now be demanded.”[2]
This, from the utilitarian and Imperial standpoints, is as it should be, but it tends to be fatal to the mythology, the customs, and the traditions of such peoples as the negroes of West Africa. For this change is not taking place only in the direction of mere materialism. Christianity, entering the country through the ports, and Mohammedanism, being carried by Haussas along the trade routes from the interior, are playing their part in these psychological and sociological changes. The negro of yesterday differs from the negro of to-day as he in turn will differ from the negro of to-morrow. In view of all this metamorphosis it is much to be regretted that the geographical and linguistical difficulties have made the task of the folk-lorist not only difficult but wellnigh impossible. Much, of course, might be done if those whose duties carry them into the various districts would take in hand the task. The collation of their results might enable one to eradicate [[14]]outside and recent influences and in a measure get at “the back of the black man’s mind.”
The material in this book was collected in the following manner: The new educational policy of the Government provided for a Training Institution for Teachers at Accra. The first students to be admitted were men who had already had some considerable experience in the schools of their districts. They were, therefore, sufficiently familiar with the English language to express themselves clearly and fluently. At the same time they were men who could remember the time when the new civilizing forces at present at work were not nearly so pronounced. By obtaining from these students a variety of versions of the same story it became possible to some extent to eradicate the superfluous and the spurious.
The selection of tales has been carefully made, and in the retelling and illustrating of the story the object has been to give the reader an introduction to the thought and customs of the West African negro.
In order to produce the correct ‘atmosphere’ for the story, picture an evening scene in a native village. [[15]]The sun is nearing the western horizon, seeming to fall like a huge ball behind the distant hills, the air is cool, and a solemn stillness prevails. Even the noisy youths and girls are quiet, and the time for tom-toms, crickets, bull-frogs, and the miscellaneous instruments of man and Nature for the production of the most weird and inharmonious of sounds is not yet. In the compound—the courtyard round which are the family dwellings—the women with their picin (children) on their backs are busy with mortar and pestle making foo-foo (native food from maize). Squatting near the mud walls, naked to the waist, their cloth forming but a covering for the loins, are a number of men smoking short clay pipes and expectorating in a most insanitary manner—a perfect picture of idleness. Naked youngsters stand open-mouthed listening to the conversation of their elders, or amuse themselves at hide-and-seek, marbles, or some other native game.
The short twilight of the tropics brings all occupations except talking to an end, and of talking there seems to be no end. Here and there some one or other lies down, covers himself entirely with his cloth, and is lost to the world. [[16]]
A lantern is brought out, and unconsciously and imperceptibly it becomes the centre of dark forms, relieved now and again by rows of beautiful white teeth as the owners indulge in a hearty laugh. At times conversation lags; some one drones a monotonous tune, others smoke in quiet contemplation, while others again follow the example of the dark human mounds scattered about the compound.
Suddenly, “Comrades, listen to a story.” At once the men, women, and children press round the speaker, an eager crowd, ready to hear or to tell the tales of their folk.
“All right, let it come.”
Thus commences another evening wherein the native recounts to his neighbour for the hundredth time the stories handed down by tradition from the dim ‘before-time.’ The native is a born raconteur, and his stories are not the outcome of his imagination, but folk-lore modified and ornamented perhaps to suit the particular audience or particular circumstance. Some of these modifications which have assumed a more or less permanent form are commented on below.
Throughout the Gold Coast Colony and Southern [[17]]Ashanti the stories as given by the various tribes are essentially the same. It may be that further and more detailed investigation in the domain of folk-lore will help to solve a very important ethnic problem, namely, whether the coast tribes are or are not of the same stock as those of the hinterland. It is generally accepted at present that “these people of the West Coast were for the most part the broken fragments of races that have been driven to the sea by the stronger races of the interior.”[3] If this were so, then one would expect to find differences in the folk-lore of the stronger and weaker races similar to those between the folk-lore of the Celts and Anglo-Saxons. Actually, this does not appear to be so, though at present the data is not sufficient to enable one to form a definite opinion.
The following is from a recent work on the Gold Coast, and presents a slightly different view from that in the quotation above: “The general sum of these traditions [regarding the origin of the tribes] is that the Fantis, Ashantis, Wassaws, and in fact all the Twi-[Tshi] speaking, or Akan, peoples, were originally one tribe. They were a pastoral race and [[18]]inhabited the open country beyond the forest belt and farther north than Salaga. A northern and lighter-skinned people, which is commonly supposed to have been the Fulanis, commenced to encroach on their territory, and, being stronger than they, seized their cattle and young women and made many of the others slaves.… The subdivision of the united Akan race into its main branches, the Fantis and Ashantis, is variously accounted for.… One story very plausibly explains that the constant raids of their northern enemy, who burned all the farms, reduced the Akans to great straits for food. Some of them subsisted on a wild plant named fan and others on a plant named shan, and thus gained the names Fan-dti and Shan-dti (dti, to eat).”[4] A possible alternative explanation is that the same stock occupies the coast and the hinterland, and that differentiation has come about as the result of malaria affecting that portion of the race inhabiting the region of the lagoon marshes along the coastal plain. It has now been fairly well established that malaria can and does have a deleterious effect on races, and [[19]]that even in the case of Greece and Rome the malarial factor must be taken into account in discussing the causes which brought about their fall.[5] It may be that the marshes round Salonica and the swamps of the Campagna have their counterpart in the long line of lagoon swamps that lie between the surf-wall and the forest wall of ‘the Coast.’ Medical science alone, perhaps, will be able to solve the problem, but folk-lore can and does render valuable assistance toward a solution. A conquered people do not give up their ‘lore’ with the land, but carry their customs and traditions with them to their new homes.
There is one story which has a special interest in this connexion because, after being carried by the negroes from Africa to the Southern States in the slave days, it became the basis of a story which has served to amuse the children and adults of the whole of the English-speaking peoples, namely, The Wonderful Adventures of Old Brer Rabbit. It is interesting to compare the tar-baby narrative with the manner in which Anansi was caught in Story X.
From the scanty material we have at present, it would seem that the folk-lores of the coastal and [[20]]hinterland peoples are substantially the same, the differences being traceable in many cases to the influence of the new environment. Thus, in the story where Anansi seeks to hide the wisdom of the world (Story II), which he has collected in a pot, among the coast peoples he finds a difficulty in climbing up the palm-tree, but among the forest tribes his difficulty is to get over the trunk of a tree which has fallen across the bush-path. Here the difference is due to environment and not to race.
It is necessary to point out that similarity of story cannot by itself be taken as indicative of similarity of race. Indeed, so common is it to find the same story told by people of varying types and in every stage of progress that it has opened up a problem of great importance. Have such stories originated from a common source? and, if so, where may the common origin be found? Or are folk-stories like the material productions of the races, i.e. do they follow a more or less common line of development?[6] What connexion can there be, for example, [[21]]between the negro of the Gold Coast and the Serb? Yet they have a story remarkably similar. In the story of Ohia (Story XIX) the power of understanding the language of animals was given him on condition that he should not disclose the secret to any human being under pain of death. This knowledge often gave him occasion for laughter, and at such times his wife, ignorant of the cause, became angered and suspicious. She demanded to know the reason for such outbursts, and at last her importunity resulted in the telling of the secret, and consequent death of the man. In the Serbian story[7] the dénouement is somewhat different, comedy taking the place of tragedy. The man when just about to yield his life to satisfy the curiosity of his wife listens to the cock, who declares that he can manage to keep his hundred wives in order by giving them a good peck when they need it. The man accordingly leaves his coffin and brings his wife to reason and her knees by a well-administered chastisement. How came these two peoples to have a story with so many features in common? Is it possible [[22]]that the Turk and the Moor may have provided links?
It may not be out of place here to mention the effect of the contact of the slave-trading Europeans on the folk-lore of the Coast negroes. The grim white castles every few miles along the whole of the Guinea Coast stand as stern reminders of the time when the helpless coastal tribes were raided and men, women, and children sold into slavery. But one who has conversed with the native of to-day cannot doubt that the greatest effect of those terrible days is discernible in the native mentality itself. It has, as one might expect, influenced more or less the folk-story. Here, for example, is one type of influence:
“When the Portuguese first landed, the natives betook themselves to the forest. When the white man had put off again the natives crept cautiously back to the beach. To their great surprise they found there a basin full of rum. One of them, by name Mbura, tasted some, and finding that it was sweet, drank as much as he could and became intoxicated. Others did the same, and when many of them were helpless the boatmen returned and carried [[23]]them off. On account of the rum being tasted by Mbura, we call rum in Fantee Mbura-nsa—i.e. Mbura’s wine.”[8]
Even more remarkable is the origin of the god Nyankupon, who figures largely in both mythology and folk-lore. Many stories introduce Nyankupon, and yet he is no native god at all.
“After an intercourse of some years with Europeans, the Tshi-speaking inhabitants of the towns and villages in the vicinity of the various forts added to their system of polytheism a new deity whom they termed Nana-Nyankupon—sometimes called simply Nyankupon. This was the god of the Christians, borrowed from them and adopted under a new designation. The great superiority manifested by the whites in their weapons, ships, manufactures—in short, in everything—convinced the natives with whom they had intercourse that they must necessarily be protected by a deity of greater power than any of those to which they themselves offered sacrifice, since their own deities had not, except very remotely, helped them to attain any such prosperity. They therefore gladly enrolled themselves amongst the [[24]]followers of the god of the whites, and being informed that he dwelt in the heavens above, they denominated him Nana-Nyankupon, which may be freely translated ‘Lord of the Sky.’ ”[9]
The Gold Coast folk-stories are readily divisible into two groups, Anansi and non-Anansi tales. Anánsi is the spider, and with him is generally associated his son, Kweku Tsin (Tsĩ). Why so many spider stories? No satisfactory explanation can as yet be given. It cannot be due entirely to the superabundance of spiders in native dwellings and surroundings, for other tribes along the Coast seem to concentrate on other creatures, as the elephant and the tortoise. Nor does there seem to be sufficient evidence to trace the origin to totemism. No doubt many of the Anansi stories as told to-day are due to observation of the ways and peculiar characteristics of the spider, and are an attempt to explain the why and the wherefore. And generally it is decided that he is a wise, cunning, deceitful creature who scampers off to hide in the ceiling because he has done something to be ashamed of and has, unfortunately, been [[25]]found out. Here are two comments from folk-stories on Anansi:
“The wisdom of the spider is greater than that of all the world together.”
“Woe to one who would put his trust in Anansi—a sly, selfish, and greedy person.”
The non-Anansi stories are generally of the ‘Just-so’ type—why the ears of the deer are long, why the waist of the wasp is slim, etc. There is nothing in the wide realm of botany, astronomy, or geography of a peculiar or striking character but an explanation is forthcoming in the lore of the folk. There is, of course, the usual sprinkling of magic tales, which bear a striking resemblance to many European märchen, or fairy-tales.
In conclusion, an apology must be offered to the scientific folk-lorist. The stories have been retold in order to appeal to a wider public, but it is hoped that ere long the complete original material may be available for the student of folk-lore.
W. H. B. [[27]]
[1] The cocoa exported in 1891 realized £4; in 1914 £2,193,749. [↑]
[2] Colonial Report, G.C., 1913. [↑]
[3] The Story of the Negro, Booker T. Washington, vol. i, p. 57 [↑]
[4] A History of the Gold Coast and Ashanti, W. W. Claridge, vol. i, pp. 4–5. [↑]
[5] See Malaria and Greek History, by W. H. S. Jones. [↑]
[6] E.g. ancient and modern primitive men in all parts of the earth seem to have shown a similar development in flint, bronze, and iron weapons, and in the arts generally. See Cinderella: Three Hundred and Forty-five Variants (Folk Lore Society). [↑]
[7] “Animals’ Language,” in [Hero-Tales and Legends of the Serbians], by Woislav M. Petrovitch. [↑]
[8] From a story told by a native of the Gold Coast. [↑]
[9] Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast of West Africa, A. B. Ellis, p. 24. [↑]
I. ANANSI, OR SPIDER, TALES
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I. HOW WE GOT THE NAME ‘SPIDER TALES’
In the olden days all the stories which men told were stories of Nyankupon, the chief of the gods. Spider, who was very conceited, wanted the stories to be told about him.
Accordingly, one day he went to Nyankupon and asked that, in future, all tales told by men might be Anansi stories, instead of Nyankupon stories. Nyankupon agreed, on one condition. He told Spider (or Anansi) that he must bring him three things: the first was a jar full of live bees, the second was a boa-constrictor, and the third a tiger. Spider gave his promise.
He took an earthen vessel and set out for a place where he knew were numbers of bees. When he came in sight of the bees he began saying to himself, “They will not be able to fill this jar”—“Yes, they will be able”—“No, they will not be able,” until the bees came up to him and said, “What are you [[30]]talking about, Mr Anansi?” He thereupon explained to them that Nyankupon and he had had a great dispute. Nyankupon had said the bees could not fly into the jar—Anansi had said they could. The bees immediately declared that of course they could fly into the jar—which they at once did. As soon as they were safely inside, Anansi sealed up the jar and sent it off to Nyankupon.
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THE BEES FLYING INTO THE JAR
Next day he took a long stick and set out in search of a boa-constrictor. When he arrived at the place where one lived he began speaking to himself again. “He will just be as long as this stick”—“No, he will not be so long as this”—“Yes, he will be as long as this.” These words he repeated several times, till the boa came out and asked him what was the matter. “Oh, we have been having a dispute in Nyankupon’s town about you. Nyankupon’s people say you are not as long as this stick. I say you are. Please let me measure you by it.” The boa innocently laid himself out straight, and Spider lost no time in tying him on to the stick from end to end. He then sent him to Nyankupon.
The third day he took a needle and thread and [[31]]sewed up his eye. He then set out for a den where he knew a tiger lived. As he approached the place he began to shout and sing so loudly that the tiger came out to see what was the matter. “Can you not see?” said Spider. “My eye is sewn up and now I can see such wonderful things that I must sing about them.” “Sew up my eyes,” said the tiger, “then I too can see these surprising sights.” Spider immediately did so. Having thus made the tiger helpless, he led him straight to Nyankupon’s house. Nyankupon was amazed at Spider’s cleverness in fulfilling the three conditions. He immediately gave him permission for the future to call all the old tales Anansi tales. [[33]]
II. HOW WISDOM BECAME THE PROPERTY OF THE HUMAN RACE
There once lived, in Fanti-land, a man named Father Anansi. He possessed all the wisdom in the world. People came to him daily for advice and help.
One day the men of the country were unfortunate enough to offend Father Anansi, who immediately resolved to punish them. After much thought he decided that the severest penalty he could inflict would be to hide all his wisdom from them. He set to work at once to gather again all that he had already given. When he had succeeded, as he thought, in collecting it, he placed all in one great pot. This he carefully sealed, and determined to put it in a spot where no human being could reach it.
Now, Father Anansi had a son, whose name was Kweku Tsin. This boy began to suspect his father of some secret design, so he made up his mind to watch carefully. Next day he saw his father quietly [[34]]slip out of the house, with his precious pot hung round his neck. Kweku Tsin followed. Father Anansi went through the forest till he had left the village far behind. Then, selecting the highest and most inaccessible-looking tree, he began to climb. The heavy pot, hanging in front of him, made his ascent almost impossible. Again and again he tried to reach the top of the tree, where he intended to hang the pot. There, he thought, Wisdom would indeed be beyond the reach of every one but himself. He was unable, however, to carry out his desire. At each trial the pot swung in his way.
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AGAIN AND AGAIN ANANSI TRIED TO CLIMB THE TREE
For some time Kweku Tsin watched his father’s vain attempts. At last, unable to contain himself any longer, he cried out: “Father, why do you not hang the pot on your back? Then you could easily climb the tree.”
Father Anansi turned and said: “I thought I had all the world’s wisdom in this pot. But I find you possess more than I do. All my wisdom was insufficient to show me what to do, yet you have been able to tell me.” In his anger he threw the pot down. It struck on a great rock and broke. The wisdom contained in it escaped and spread throughout the world. [[35]]
III. ANANSI AND NOTHING
Near Anansi’s miserable little hut there was a fine palace where lived a very rich man called Nothing. Nothing and Anansi proposed, one day, to go to the neighbouring town to get some wives. Accordingly, they set off together.
Nothing, being a rich man, wore a very fine velvet cloth, while Anansi had a ragged cotton one. While they were on their way Anansi persuaded Nothing to change clothes for a little while, promising to give back the fine velvet before they reached the town. He delayed doing this, however, first on one pretext, then on another—till they arrived at their destination.
Anansi, being dressed in such a fine garment, found no difficulty in getting as many wives as he wished. Poor Nothing, with his ragged and miserable cloth, was treated with great contempt. At first he could not get even one wife. At last, however, a woman took pity on him and gave him her daughter. The poor girl was laughed at very heartily by Anansi’s [[36]]wives for choosing such a beggar as Nothing appeared to be. She wisely took no notice of their scorn.
The party set off for home. When they reached the cross-roads leading to their respective houses the women were astonished. The road leading to Anansi’s house was only half cleared. The one which led to Nothing’s palace was, of course, wide and well made. Not only so, but his servants had strewn it with beautiful skins and carpets, in preparation for his return. Servants were there, awaiting him, with fine clothes for himself and his wife. No one was waiting for Anansi.
Nothing’s wife was queen over the whole district and had everything her heart could desire. Anansi’s wives could not even get proper food; they had to live on unripe bananas with peppers. The wife of Nothing heard of her friends’ miserable state and invited them to a great feast in her palace. They came, and were so pleased with all they saw that they agreed to stay there. Accordingly, they refused to come back to Anansi’s hut.
He was very angry, and tried in many ways to kill Nothing, but without success. Finally, however, he persuaded some rat friends to dig a deep tunnel [[37]]in front of Nothing’s door. When the hole was finished Anansi lined it with knives and broken bottles. He then smeared the steps of the palace with okro to make them very slippery, and withdrew to a little distance.
When he thought Nothing’s household was safely in bed and asleep, he called to Nothing to come out to the courtyard and see something. Nothing’s wife, however, dissuaded him from going. Anansi tried again and again, and each time she bade her husband not to listen. At last Nothing determined to go and see this thing. As he placed his foot on the first step, of course he slipped, and down he fell into the hole. The noise alarmed the household. Lights were fetched and Nothing was found in the ditch, so much wounded by the knives that he soon died. His wife was terribly grieved at his untimely death. She boiled many yams, mashed them, and took a great dishful of them round the district. To every child she met she gave some, so that the child might help her to cry for her husband. This is why, if you find a child crying and ask the cause, you will often be told he is “crying for nothing.” [[39]]
IV. THUNDER AND ANANSI
There had been a long and severe famine in the land where Anansi lived. He had been quite unable to obtain food for his poor wife and family. One day, gazing desperately out to sea, he saw, rising from the midst of the water, a tiny island with a tall palm-tree upon it. He determined to reach this tree—if any means proved possible—and climb it, in the hope of finding a few nuts to reward him. How to get there was the difficulty.
This, however, solved itself when he reached the beach, for there lay the means to his hand, in the shape of an old broken boat. It certainly did not look very strong, but Anansi decided to try it.
His first six attempts were unsuccessful—a great wave dashed him back on the beach each time he tried to put off. He was persevering, however, and at the seventh trial was successful in getting away. He steered the battered old boat as best he could, and at length reached the palm-tree of his desire. Having [[40]]tied the boat to the trunk of the tree—which grew almost straight out of the water—he climbed toward the nuts. Plucking all he could reach, he dropped them, one by one, down to the boat. To his dismay, every one missed the boat and fell, instead, into the water until only the last one remained. This he aimed even more carefully than the others, but it also fell into the water and disappeared from his hungry eyes. He had not tasted even one and now all were gone.
40
A GREAT WAVE DASHED ANANSI BACK ON THE BEACH
He could not bear the thought of going home empty-handed, so, in his despair, he threw himself into the water, too. To his complete astonishment, instead of being drowned, he found himself standing on the sea-bottom in front of a pretty little cottage. From the latter came an old man, who asked Anansi what he wanted so badly that he had come to Thunder’s cottage to seek it. Anansi told his tale of woe, and Thunder showed himself most sympathetic.
He went into the cottage and fetched a fine cooking-pot, which he presented to Anansi—telling him that he need never be hungry again. The pot would always supply enough food for himself and [[41]]his family. Anansi was most grateful, and left Thunder with many thanks.
Being anxious to test the pot at once, Anansi only waited till he was again seated in the old boat to say, “Pot, pot, what you used to do for your master do now for me.” Immediately good food of all sorts appeared. Anansi ate a hearty meal, which he very much enjoyed.
On reaching land again, his first thought was to run home and give all his family a good meal from his wonderful pot. A selfish, greedy fear prevented him. “What if I should use up all the magic of the pot on them, and have nothing more left for myself! Better keep the pot a secret—then I can enjoy a meal when I want one.” So, his mind full of this thought, he hid the pot.
He reached home, pretending to be utterly worn out with fatigue and hunger. There was not a grain of food to be had anywhere. His wife and poor children were weak with want of it, but selfish Anansi took no notice of that. He congratulated himself at the thought of his magic pot, now safely hidden in his room. There he retired from time to time when he felt hungry, and enjoyed a good meal. His [[42]]family got thinner and thinner, but he grew plumper and plumper. They began to suspect some secret, and determined to find it out. His eldest son, Kweku Tsin, had the power of changing himself into any shape he chose; so he took the form of a tiny fly, and accompanied his father everywhere. At last, Anansi, feeling hungry, entered his room and closed the door. Next he took the pot, and had a fine meal. Having replaced the pot in its hiding-place, he went out, on the pretence of looking for food.
As soon as he was safely out of sight, Kweku Tsin fetched out the pot and called all his hungry family to come at once. They had as good a meal as their father had had. When they had finished, Mrs. Anansi—to punish her husband—said she would take the pot down to the village and give everybody a meal. This she did—but alas! in working to prepare so much food at one time, the pot grew too hot and melted away. What was to be done now? Anansi would be so angry! His wife forbade every one to mention the pot.
Anansi returned, ready for his supper, and, as usual, went into his room, carefully shutting the door. He went to the hiding-place—it was empty! [[43]]He looked around in consternation. No pot was to be seen anywhere. Some one must have discovered it. His family must be the culprits; he would find a means to punish them.
Saying nothing to any one about the matter, he waited till morning. As soon as it was light he started off towards the shore, where the old boat lay. Getting into the boat, it started of its own accord and glided swiftly over the water—straight for the palm-tree. Arrived there, Anansi attached the boat as before and climbed the tree. This time, unlike the last, the nuts almost fell into his hands. When he aimed them at the boat they fell easily into it—not one, as before, dropping into the water. He deliberately took them and threw them overboard, immediately jumping after them. As before, he found himself in front of Thunder’s cottage, with Thunder waiting to hear his tale. This he told, the old man showing the same sympathy as he had previously done.
This time, however, he presented Anansi with a fine stick and bade him good-bye. Anansi could scarcely wait till he got into the boat—so anxious was he to try the magic properties of his new gift. [[44]]“Stick, stick,” he said, “what you used to do for your master do for me also.” The stick began to beat him so severely that, in a few minutes, he was obliged to jump into the water and swim ashore, leaving boat and stick to drift away where they pleased. Then he returned sorrowfully homeward, bemoaning his many bruises and wishing he had acted more wisely from the beginning. [[45]]
V. WHY THE LIZARD CONTINUALLY MOVES HIS HEAD UP AND DOWN
In a town not very far from Anansi’s home lived a great king. This king had three beautiful daughters, whose names were kept a secret from everybody except their own family. One day their father made a proclamation that his three daughters would be given as wives to any man who could find out their names. Anansi made up his mind to do so.
He first bought a large jar of honey, and set off for the bathing-place of the king’s daughters. Arrived there, he climbed to the top of a tree on which grew some very fine fruit. He picked some of this fruit and poured honey over it. When he saw the princesses approaching he dropped the fruit on the ground and waited. The girls thought the fruit dropped of its own accord, and one of them ran forward to pick it up. When she tasted it, she called out to her sisters by name to exclaim on its [[46]]sweetness. Anansi dropped another, which the second princess picked up—she, in her turn, calling out the names of the other two. In this fashion Anansi found out all the names.
46
THE PRINCESS PICKED UP THE FRUIT
As soon as the princesses had gone Anansi came down from the tree and hurried into the town. He went to all the great men and summoned them to a meeting at the King’s palace on the morrow.
He then visited his friend the Lizard, to get him to act as herald at the Court next day. He told Lizard the three names, and the latter was to sound them through his trumpet when the time came.
Early next morning the King and his Court were assembled as usual. All the great men of the town appeared, as Anansi had requested. Anansi stated his business, reminding the King of his promise to give his three daughters to the man who had found out their names. The King demanded to hear the latter, whereupon Lizard sounded them on his trumpet.
The King and courtiers were much surprised. His Majesty, however, could not break the promise he had made of giving his daughters to the man who named them. He accordingly gave them to Mr [[47]]Lizard. Anansi was very angry, and explained that he had told the names to Lizard, so that he ought to get at least two of the girls, while Lizard could have the third. The King refused. Anansi then begged hard for even one, but that was also refused. He went home in a very bad temper, declaring that he would be revenged on Lizard for stealing his wives away.
He thought over the matter very carefully, but could not find a way of punishing Lizard. At last, however, he had an idea.
He went to the King and explained that he was setting off next morning on a long journey. He wished to start very early, and so begged the King’s help. The King had a fine cock, which always crowed at daybreak to waken the King if he wished to get up early. Anansi begged that the King would command the cock to crow next morning, that Anansi might be sure of getting off in time. This the King readily promised.
As soon as night fell Anansi went by a back way to the cock’s sleeping-place, seized the bird quickly, and killed it. He then carried it to Lizard’s house, where all were in bed. There he quietly cooked [[48]]the cock, placed the feathers under Lizard’s bed, and put some of the flesh on a dish close to Lizard’s hand. The wicked Anansi then took some boiling water and poured it into poor Lizard’s mouth, thus making him dumb.
When morning came, Anansi went to the King and reproached him for not letting the cock crow. The King was much surprised to hear that it had not obeyed his commands.
He sent one of his servants to find and bring the cock to him, but, of course, the servant returned empty-handed. The King then ordered them to find the thief. No trace of him could be found anywhere. Anansi then cunningly said to the King: “I know Lizard is a rogue, because he stole my three wives from me. Perhaps he is the thief.” Accordingly, the men went to search Lizard’s house.
There, of course, they found the remnants of the cock, cooked ready to eat, and his feathers under the bed. They questioned Lizard, but the poor animal was unable to reply. He could only move his head up and down helplessly. They thought he was refusing to speak, so dragged him before the King. To the King’s questions he could only return the [[49]]same answer, and his Majesty got very angry. He did not know that Anansi had made the poor animal dumb. Lizard tried very hard to speak, but in vain.
He was accordingly judged guilty of theft, and as a punishment his wives were taken away from him and given to Anansi.
Since then lizards have always had a way of moving their heads helplessly backward and forward, as if saying, “How can any one be so foolish as to trust Anansi?” [[51]]
VI. TIT FOR TAT
There had been a great famine in the land for many months. Meat had become so scarce that only the rich chiefs had money enough to buy it. The poor people were starving. Anansi and his family were in a miserable state.
One day, Anansi’s eldest son—Kweku Tsin—to his great joy, discovered a place in the forest where there were still many animals. Knowing his father’s wicked ways, Kweku told him nothing of the matter. Anansi, however, speedily discovered that Kweku was returning loaded, day after day, to the village. There he was able to sell the meat at a good price to the hungry villagers. Anansi immediately wanted to know the secret—but his son wisely refused to tell him. The old man determined to find out by a trick.
Slipping into his son’s room one night, when he was fast asleep, he cut a tiny hole in the corner of the bag which Kweku always carried into the forest. [[52]]Anansi then put a quantity of ashes into the bag and replaced it where he had found it.
52
“MAY I GIVE YOU A LITTLE OF THIS MEAT?”
Next morning, as Kweku set out for the forest, he threw the bag, as usual, over his shoulder. Unknown to him, at each step, the ashes were sprinkled on the ground. Consequently, when Anansi set out an hour later he was easily able to follow his son by means of the trail of ashes. He, too, arrived at the animals’ home in the forest, and found Kweku there before him. He immediately drove his son away, saying that, by the law of the land, the place belonged to him. Kweku saw how he had been tricked, and determined to have the meat back.
He accordingly went home—made a tiny image and hung little bells round its neck. He then tied a long thread to its head and returned toward the hunting-place.
When about half-way there, he hung the image to a branch of a tree in the path, and hid himself in the bushes near by—holding the other end of the thread in his hand.
The greedy father, in the meantime, had killed as many animals as he could find, being determined to become rich as speedily as possible. He then skinned [[53]]them and prepared the flesh—to carry it to the neighbouring villages to sell. Taking the first load, he set off for his own village. Half-way there, he came to the place where the image hung in the way. Thinking this was one of the gods, he stopped. As he approached, the image began to shake its head vigorously at him. He felt that this meant that the gods were angry. To please them, he said to the image, “May I give you a little of this meat?” Again the image shook its head. “May I give you half of this meat?” he then inquired. The head shook once more. “Do you want the whole of this meat?” he shouted fiercely. This time the head nodded, as if the image were well pleased. “I will not give you all my meat,” Anansi cried. At this the image shook in every limb as if in a terrible temper. Anansi was so frightened that he threw the whole load on the ground and ran away. As he ran, he called back, “To-morrow I shall go to Ekubon—you will not be able to take my meat from me there, you thief.”
But Kweku had heard where his father intended to go next day—and set the image in his path as before. Again Anansi was obliged to leave his [[54]]whole load—and again he called out the name of the place where he would go the following day.
The same thing occurred, day after day, till all the animals in the wood were killed. By this time, Kweku Tsin had become very rich—but his father Anansi was still very poor. He was obliged to go to Kweku’s house every day for food.
When the famine was over, Kweku gave a great feast and invited the entire village. While all were gathered together, Kweku told the story of his father’s cunning and how it had been overcome. This caused great merriment among the villagers. Anansi was so ashamed that he readily promised Kweku to refrain from his evil tricks for the future. This promise, however, he did not long keep. [[55]]
VII. WHY WHITE ANTS ALWAYS HARM MAN’S PROPERTY
There came once such a terrible famine in the land that a grain of corn was worth far more than its weight in gold. A hungry spider was wandering through the forest looking for food. To his great joy he found a dead antelope.
Knowing that he would not be allowed to reach home in safety with it, he wrapped it up very carefully in a long mat and bound it securely.
Placing it on his head, he started for home. As he went, he wept bitterly, telling every one that this was his dead grandfather’s body. Every one he met sympathized heartily with him.
On his way he met the wolf and the leopard. These two wise animals suspected that this was one of Spider’s tricks. They knew that he was not to be trusted. Walking on a little way, they discussed what they could do to find out what was in the bundle. [[56]]
They agreed to take a short cut across the country to a tree which they knew Cousin Spider must pass. When they reached this tree they hid themselves very carefully behind it and waited for him.
56
WOLF AND LEOPARD DISCOVER THE FLESH OF THE ANTELOPE
As he passed the place they shook the tree and uttered frightful noises. This so frightened Mr Spider that he dropped his load and ran away.
The two gentlemen opened the bundle and, to their great joy, discovered the flesh of the antelope in it. They carried it off to their own home and began to prepare supper.
When Mr Spider recovered from his fear he began to wonder who could have been at the tree to make the noises. He decided that his enemies must be Wolf and Leopard. He made up his mind he would get his meat back from them.
He took a small lizard and filed his teeth to fine, sharp points. He then sent him to spy upon the wolf and leopard—by begging fire from them. He was to get the fire and quench it as soon as he left their cottage. He could then return and ask a second time. If they asked him questions, he must smile and show his teeth.
The lizard did as he was told, and everything [[57]]turned out just as Spider had expected. Wolf and Leopard eagerly asked the lizard where he had had his teeth filed so beautifully. He replied that “Filing Spider” had done it for him.
Wolf and Leopard discussed the matter and decided to have their teeth filed in the same way. They could then easily break the bones of their food.
Accordingly, they went to the house of the disguised spider and asked him to make their teeth like Lizard’s. Spider agreed, but said that, to do it properly, he would first have to hang them on a tree. They made no objection to this.
When he had them safely hung, Spider and his family came and mocked them. Spider then went to their cottage and brought away the body of the antelope. The whole village was invited to the feast, which was held in front of the two poor animals on the tree. During this festival every one made fun of the wolf and leopard.
Next morning White Ant and his children passed the place on their way to some friends. Mr Leopard begged them to set him and his friend free. White Ant and his family set to work, destroyed the tree and set them at liberty. Leopard and Wolf promised [[58]]the ants that on their return they would spread a feast for them.
Unfortunately, Spider heard the invitation and made up his mind to benefit by it. On the third day (which was the very time set by the wolf and leopard) Spider dressed up his children like the ants. They set out, singing the ants’ chorus, in order to deceive Leopard.
Wolf and Leopard welcomed them heartily and spread a splendid feast for them, which the spiders thoroughly enjoyed.
Soon after their departure the real ants arrived. The two hosts, thinking these must be Spider and his family, poured boiling water over them and killed them all except the father.
White Ant, on reaching home again, in great anger, vowed that he would never again help any one. He would take every opportunity to harm property. From that day to this white ants have been a perfect pest to man. [[59]]
VIII. THE SQUIRREL AND THE SPIDER
A hard-working squirrel had, after much labour, succeeded in cultivating a very fine farm. Being a skilful climber of trees, he had not troubled to make a roadway into his farm. He used to reach it by the trees.
One day, when his harvests were very nearly ripe, it happened that Spider went out hunting in that neighbourhood. During his travels, he arrived at Squirrel’s farm. Greatly pleased at the appearance of the fields, he sought for the roadway to it. Finding none, he returned home and told his family all about the matter. The very next day they all set out for this fine place, and set to work immediately to make a road. When this was completed Spider—who was very cunning—threw pieces of earthenware pot along the pathway. This he did to make believe that his children had dropped them while working to prepare the farm. [[60]]
Then he and his family began to cut down and carry away such of the corn as was ripe. Squirrel noticed that his fields were being robbed, but could not at first find the thief. He determined to watch. Sure enough Spider soon reappeared to steal more of the harvest. Squirrel demanded to know what right he had on these fields. Spider immediately asked him the same question. “They are my fields,” said Squirrel. “Oh, no! They are mine,” retorted Spider. “I dug them and sowed them and planted them,” said poor Squirrel. “Then where is your roadway to them?” said crafty Spider. “I need no roadway. I come by the trees,” was Squirrel’s reply. Needless to say, Spider laughed such an answer to scorn, and continued to use the farm as his own.
Squirrel appealed to the law, but the court decided that no one had ever had a farm without a road leading to it, therefore the fields must be Spider’s.
In great glee Spider and his family prepared to cut down all the harvest that remained. When it was cut they tied it in great bundles and set off to the nearest market-place to sell it. When they were about half-way there, a terrible storm came on. They were [[61]]obliged to put down their burdens by the roadside and run for shelter. When the storm had passed they returned to pick up their loads.
As they approached the spot they found a great, black crow there, with his broad wings outspread to keep the bundles dry. Spider went to him and very politely thanked him for so kindly taking care of their property. “Your property!” replied Father Crow. “Who ever heard of any one leaving bundles of corn by the roadside? Nonsense! These loads are mine.” So saying, he picked them up and went off with them, leaving Spider and his children to return home sorrowful and empty-handed. Their thieving ways had brought them little profit. [[63]]
IX. WHY WE SEE ANTS CARRYING BUNDLES AS BIG AS THEMSELVES
Kweku Anansi and Kweku Tsin—his son—were both very clever farmers. Generally they succeeded in getting fine harvests from each of their farms. One year, however, they were very unfortunate. They had sown their seeds as usual, but no rain had fallen for more than a month after and it looked as if the seeds would be unable to sprout.
Kweku Tsin was walking sadly through his fields one day looking at the bare, dry ground, and wondering what he and his family would do for food, if they were unable to get any harvest. To his surprise he saw a tiny dwarf seated by the roadside. The little hunchback asked the reason of his sadness, and Kweku Tsin told him. The dwarf promised to help him by bringing rain on the farm. He bade Kweku fetch two small sticks and tap him lightly on the hump, while he sang: [[64]]
“O water, go up, O water, go up,
And let rain fall, and let rain fall.”
To Kweku’s great joy rain immediately began to fall, and continued till the ground was thoroughly well soaked. In the days following the seeds germinated, and the crops began to promise well.
Anansi soon heard how well Kweku’s crops were growing—whilst his own were still bare and hard. He went straightway to his son and demanded to know the reason. Kweku Tsin, being an honest fellow, at once told him what had happened.
Anansi quickly made up his mind to get his farm watered in the same way, and accordingly set out toward it. As he went, he cut two big, strong sticks, thinking, “My son made the dwarf work with little sticks. I will make him do twice as much with my big ones.” He carefully hid the big sticks, however, when he saw the dwarf coming toward him. As before, the hunchback asked what the trouble was, and Anansi told him. “Take two small sticks, and beat me lightly on the hump,” said the dwarf. “I will get rain for you.”
But Anansi took his big sticks and beat so hard [[65]]that the dwarf fell down dead. The greedy fellow was now thoroughly frightened, for he knew that the dwarf was jester to the King of the country, and a very great favourite of his. He wondered how he could fix the blame on some one else. He picked up the dwarf’s dead body and carried it to a kola-tree. There he laid it on one of the top branches and sat down under the tree to watch.
By and by Kweku Tsin came along to see if his father had succeeded in getting rain for his crops. “Did you not see the dwarf, father?” he asked, as he saw the old man sitting alone. “Oh, yes!” replied Anansi; “but he has climbed this tree to pick kola. I am now waiting for him.” “I will go up and fetch him,” said the young man—and immediately began to climb. As soon as his head touched the body the latter, of course, fell to the ground. “Oh! what have you done, you wicked fellow?” cried his father. “You have killed the King’s jester!” “That is all right,” quietly replied the son (who saw that this was one of Anansi’s tricks). “The King is very angry with him, and has promised a bag of money to any one who would kill him. I will now go and get the reward.” “No! No! [[66]]No!” shouted Anansi. “The reward is mine. I killed him with two big sticks. I will take him to the King.” “Very well!” was the son’s reply. “As you killed him, you may take him.”
66
MR ANT TAKES THE BOX FROM ANANSI
Off set Anansi, quite pleased with the prospect of getting a reward. He reached the King’s court, only to find the King very angry at the death of his favourite. The body of the jester was shut up in a great box and Anansi was condemned—as a punishment—to carry it on his head for ever. The King enchanted the box so that it could never be set down on the ground. The only way in which Anansi could ever get rid of it was by getting some other man to put it on his head. This, of course, no one was willing to do.
At last, one day, when Anansi was almost worn out with his heavy burden, he met the Ant. “Will you hold this box for me while I go to market and buy some things I need badly?” said Anansi to Mr Ant. “I know your tricks, Anansi,” replied Ant. “You want to be rid of it.” “Oh, no, indeed, Mr Ant,” protested Anansi. “Indeed I will come back for it, I promise.”
Mr Ant, who was an honest fellow, and always kept [[67]]his own promises, believed him. He took the box on his head, and Anansi hurried off. Needless to say, the sly fellow had not the least intention of keeping his word. Mr Ant waited in vain for his return—and was obliged to wander all the rest of his life with the box on his head. That is the reason we so often see ants carrying great bundles as they hurry along. [[69]]
X. WHY SPIDERS ARE ALWAYS FOUND IN THE CORNERS OF CEILINGS
Egya Anansi was a very skilful farmer. He, with his wife and son, set to work one year to prepare a farm, much larger than any they had previously worked. They planted in it yams, maize, and beans—and were rewarded by a very rich crop. Their harvest was quite ten times greater than any they had ever had before. Egya Anansi was very well pleased when he saw his wealth of corn and beans.
He was, however, an exceedingly selfish and greedy man, who never liked to share anything—even with his own wife and son. When he saw that the crops were quite ripe, he thought of a plan whereby he alone would profit by them. He called his wife and son to him and spoke thus: “We have all three worked exceedingly hard to prepare these fields. They have well repaid us. We will now gather in the harvest and pack it away in our barns. When that is [[70]]done, we shall be in need of a rest. I propose that you and our son should go back to our home in the village and remain there at your ease for two or three weeks. I have to go to the coast on very urgent business. When I return we will all come to the farm and enjoy our well-earned feast.”
70
EGYA ANANSI BUILT HIMSELF A VERY COMFORTABLE HUT
Anansi’s wife and son thought this a very good, sensible plan, and at once agreed to it. They went straight back to their village, leaving the cunning husband to start on his journey. Needless to say he had not the slightest intention of so doing.
Instead, he built himself a very comfortable hut near the farm—supplied it with all manner of cooking utensils, gathered in a large store of the corn and vegetables from the barn, and prepared for a solitary feast. This went on for a fortnight. By that time Anansi’s son began to think it was time for him to go and weed the farm, lest the weeds should grow too high. He accordingly went there and worked several hours on it. While passing the barn, he happened to look in. Great was his surprise to see that more than half of their magnificent harvest had gone. He was greatly disturbed, thinking robbers had been at [[71]]work, and wondered how he could prevent further mischief.
Returning to the village, he told the people there what had happened, and they helped to make a rubber-man. When evening came they carried the sticky figure to the farm, and placed it in the midst of the fields, to frighten away the thieves. Some of the young men remained with Anansi’s son to watch in one of the barns.
When all was dark, Egya Anansi (quite unaware of what had happened) came, as usual, out of his hiding-place to fetch more food. On his way to the barn he saw in front of him the figure of a man, and at first felt very frightened. Finding that the man did not move, however, he gained confidence and went up to him. “What do you want here?” said he. There was no answer. He repeated his question with the same result. Anansi then became very angry and dealt the figure a blow on the cheek with his right hand. Of course, his hand stuck fast to the rubber. “How dare you hold my hand?” he exclaimed. “Let me go at once or I shall hit you again.” He then hit the figure with his left hand, which also stuck. He tried to disengage himself by pushing [[72]]against it with his knees and body, until, finally, knees, body, hands, and head were all firmly attached to the rubber-man. There Egya Anansi had to stay till daybreak, when his son came out with the other villagers to catch the robber. They were astonished to find that the evil-doer was Anansi himself. He, on the other hand, was so ashamed to be caught in the act of greediness that he changed into a spider and took refuge in a dark corner of the ceiling lest any one should see him. Since then spiders have always been found in dark, dusty corners, where people are not likely to notice them. [[73]]
XI. ANANSI THE BLIND FISHERMAN
Anansi, in his old age, became a fisherman. Very soon after that his sight began to fail. Finally, he grew quite blind. However, still being very strong, he continued his fishing—with the help of two men. The latter were exceedingly kind to him, and aided him in every possible way. They led him, each morning, to the beach and into the canoe. They told him where to spread his net and when to pull it in. When they returned to land they told him just where and when to step out, so that he did not even get wet.
Day after day this went on, but Anansi—instead of being in the least grateful to them—behaved very badly. When they told him where to spread his net, he would reply sharply, “I know. I was just about to put it there.” When they were directing him to get out of the boat, he would say, “Oh, I know perfectly well we are at the beach. I was just getting ready to step out.” [[74]]
This went on for a long time, Anansi getting ruder and ruder to his helpers every day, until they could bear his treatment no longer. They determined when opportunity offered to punish him for his ingratitude.
The next day, as usual, he came with them to the beach. When they had got the canoe ready, they bade him step in. “Do you think I am a fool?” said he. “I know the canoe is there.” They made no answer, but got in and patiently pulled toward the fishing-place. When they told him where to spread his net, he replied with so much abuse that they determined, there and then, to punish him.
By this time the canoe was full of fish, so they turned to row home. When they had gone a little way they stopped and said to him, “Here we are at the beach.” He promptly told them that they were very foolish—to tell him a thing he knew so well. He added many rude and insulting remarks, which made them thoroughly angry. He then jumped proudly out, expecting to land on the beach. To his great astonishment he found himself sinking in deep water. The two men rowed quickly away, leaving him to struggle. [[75]]
Like all the men of that country he was a good swimmer, but, of course, being blind, he was unable to see where the land lay. So he swam until he was completely tired out—and was drowned. [[77]]
XII. ADZANUMEE AND HER MOTHER
There once lived a woman who had one great desire. She longed to have a daughter—but alas! she was childless. She could never feel happy, because of this unfulfilled wish. Even in the midst of a feast the thought would be in her mind—“Ah! if only I had a daughter to share this with me.”
One day she was gathering yams in the field, and it chanced that she pulled out one which was very straight and well shaped. “Ah!” she thought to herself, “if only this fine yam were a daughter, how happy I should be.” To her astonishment the yam answered, “If I were to become your daughter, would you promise never to reproach me with having been a yam?” She eagerly gave her promise, and at once the yam changed into a beautiful, well-made girl. The woman was overjoyed and was very kind to the girl. She named her Adzanumee. The latter was exceedingly useful to her mother. She [[78]]would make the bread, gather the yams, and sell them at the market-place.
78
THE BIRD CALLS TO ADZANUMEE
She had been detained, one day, longer than usual. Her mother became impatient at her non-appearance and angrily said, “Where can Adzanumee be? She does not deserve that beautiful name. She is only a yam.”
A bird singing near by heard the mother’s words and immediately flew off to the tree under which Adzanumee sat. There he began to sing:
“Adzanumee! Adzanumee!
Your mother is unkind—she says you are only a yam,
You do not deserve your name!
Adzanumee! Adzanumee!”
The girl heard him and returned home weeping. When the woman saw her she said, “My daughter, my daughter! What is the matter?” Adzanumee replied:
“Oh, my mother! my mother!
You have reproached me with being a yam.
You said I did not deserve my name.
Oh, my mother! my mother!”
With these words she made her way toward the yam-field. Her mother, filled with fear, followed her, wailing: [[79]]
“Nay, Adzanumee! Adzanumee!
Do not believe it—do not believe it.
You are my daughter, my dear daughter
Adzanumee!”
But she was too late. Her daughter, still singing her sad little song, quickly changed back into a yam. When the woman arrived at the field there lay the yam on the ground, and nothing she could do or say would give her back the daughter she had desired so earnestly and treated so inconsiderately. [[81]]
XIII. THE GRINDING-STONE THAT GROUND FLOUR BY ITSELF
There had been another great famine throughout the land. The villagers looked thin and pale for lack of food. Only one family appeared healthy and well. This was the household of Anansi’s cousin.
Anansi was unable to understand this, and felt sure his cousin was getting food in some way. The greedy fellow determined to find out the secret.
What had happened was this: Spider’s cousin, while hunting one morning, had discovered a wonderful stone. The stone lay on the grass in the forest and ground flour of its own accord. Near by ran a stream of honey. Kofi was delighted. He sat down and had a good meal. Not being a greedy man, he took away with him only enough for his family’s needs.
Each morning he returned to the stone and got sufficient food for that day. In this manner he and his family kept well and plump, while the [[82]]surrounding villagers were starved and miserable-looking.
82
THE WONDERFUL GRINDING STONE
Anansi gave him no peace till he promised to show him the stone. This he was most unwilling to do—knowing his cousin’s wicked ways. He felt sure that when Anansi saw the stone he would not be content to take only what he needed. However, Anansi troubled him so much with questions that at last he promised. He told Anansi that they would start next morning, as soon as the women set about their work. Anansi was too impatient to wait. In the middle of the night he bade his children get up and make a noise with the pots as if they were the women at work. Spider at once ran and wakened his cousin, saying, “Quick! It is time to start.” His cousin, however, saw he had been tricked, and went back to bed again, saying he would not start till the women were sweeping. No sooner was he asleep again than Spider made his children take brooms and begin to sweep very noisily. He roused Kofi once more, saying, “It is time we had started.” Once more his cousin refused to set off—saying it was only another trick of Spider’s. He again returned to bed and to sleep. This time Spider slipped into his [[83]]cousin’s room and cut a hole in the bottom of his bag, which he then filled with ashes. After that he went off and left Kofi in peace.
When morning came the cousin awoke. Seeing no sign of Spider he very gladly set off alone to the forest, thinking he had got rid of the tiresome fellow. He was no sooner seated by the stone, however, than Anansi appeared, having followed him by the trail of ashes.
“Aha!” cried he. “Here is plenty of food for all. No more need to starve.” “Hush,” said his cousin. “You must not shout here. The place is too wonderful. Sit down quietly and eat.”
They had a good meal and Kofi prepared to return home with enough for his family. “No, no!” cried Anansi. “I am going to take the stone.” In vain did his friend try to overcome his greed. Anansi insisted on putting the stone on his head, and setting out for the village.
“Spider, spider, put me down,” said the stone.
“The pig came and drank and went away,
The antelope came and fed and went away:
Spider, spider, put me down.”
Spider, however, refused to listen. He carried the [[84]]stone from village to village selling flour, until his bag was full of money. He then set out for home.
Having reached his hut and feeling very tired he prepared to put the stone down. But the stone refused to be moved from his head. It stuck fast there, and no efforts could displace it. The weight of it very soon grew too much for Anansi, and ground him down into small pieces, which were completely covered over by the stone. That is why we often find tiny spiders gathered together under large stones. [[85]]
XIV. “MORNING SUNRISE”
A man in one of the villages had a very beautiful daughter. She was so lovely that people called her “Morning Sunrise.” Every young man who saw her wanted to marry her. Three, in particular, were very anxious to have her for their wife. Her father found it difficult to decide among them. He determined to find out by a trick which of the three was most worthy of her.
He bade her lie down on her bed as if she were dead. He then sent the report of her death to each of the three lovers, asking them to come and help him with her funeral.
The messenger came first to “Wise Man.” When he heard the message, he exclaimed, “What can this man mean? The girl is not my wife. I certainly will not pay any money for her funeral.”
The messenger came next to the second man. His name was “Wit.” The latter at once said, “Oh dear, no! I shall not pay any money for her funeral [[86]]expenses. Her father did not even let me know she was ill.” So he refused to go.
“Thinker,” the third young man—when he received the message—at once got ready to start. “Certainly I must go and mourn for Morning Sunrise,” said he. “Had she lived, surely she would have been my wife.” So he took money with him and set out for her home.
When he reached it her father called out, “Morning Sunrise, Morning Sunrise. Come here. This is your true husband.”
That very day the betrothal took place, and soon after the wedding followed. “Thinker” and his beautiful wife lived very happily together. [[87]]
XV. WHY THE SEA-TURTLE WHEN CAUGHT BEATS ITS BREAST WITH ITS FORE-LEGS
Many centuries ago, the people of this earth were much troubled by floods. The sea used at times to overflow its usual boundaries and sweep across the low, sandy stretches of land which bordered it. Time and again this happened, many lives being lost at each flood. Mankind was very troubled to find an escape from this oft-repeated disaster. He could think of no way of avoiding it.
Fortunately for him the wise turtle came to his help. “Take my advice,” said she, “and plant rows of palms along the sea-coast. They will bind the sand together and keep it from being washed so easily away.” He did so, with great success. The roots of the palms kept the sand firmly in its place. When the time came again for the sea to overflow, it washed just to the line of trees and came no farther. [[88]]Thus many lives were saved annually by the kind forethought of the turtle.
In return—one would think—mankind would protect and cherish this poor animal. But no! Each time a turtle comes to the seashore to lay her eggs among the sand, she is caught and killed for the sake of her flesh. It is the thought of the ingratitude of mankind to her, which makes her beat her breast with her fore-legs when she is caught. She seems to be saying, “Ah! this is all the return I get for my kindness to you.” [[89]]
XVI. HOW BEASTS AND SERPENTS FIRST CAME INTO THE WORLD
The famine had lasted nearly three years. Kweku Tsin, being very hungry, looked daily in the forest in the hope of finding food. One day he was fortunate enough to discover three palm-kernels lying on the ground. He picked up two stones with which to crack them. The first nut, however, slipped when he hit it, and fell into a hole behind him. The same thing happened to the second and to the third. Very much annoyed at his loss, Kweku determined to go down the hole to see if he could find his lost nuts.
To his surprise, however, he discovered that this hole was really the entrance to a town, of which he had never before even heard. When he reached it he found absolute silence everywhere. He called out, “Is there nobody in this town?” and presently heard a voice in answer. He went in its direction and found an old woman sitting in one of the houses. [[90]]She demanded the reason of his appearance—which he readily gave.
The old woman was very kind and sympathetic, and promised to help him. “You must do exactly as I tell you,” said she. “Go into the garden and listen attentively. You will hear the yams speak. Pass by any yam that says, ‘Dig me out, dig me out!’ But take the one that says, ‘Do not dig me out!’ Then bring it to me.”
When he brought it, she directed him to remove the peel from the yam and throw the latter away. He was then to boil the rind, and, while boiling, it would become yam. It did actually do so, and they sat down to eat some of it. Before beginning their meal the old woman requested Kweku not to look at her while she ate. Being very polite and obedient, he did exactly as he was told.
In the evening the old woman sent him into the garden to choose one of the drums which stood there. She warned him: “If you come to a drum which says ‘Ding-ding’ on being touched—take it. But be very careful not to take one which sounds ‘Dong-dong.’ ” He obeyed her direction in every detail. When he showed her the drum, she looked pleased [[91]]and told him, to his great delight, that he had only to beat it if at any time he were hungry. That would bring him food in plenty. He thanked the old woman very heartily and went home.
As soon as he reached his own hut, he gathered his household together, and then beat the drum. Immediately, food of every description appeared before them, and they all ate as much as they wished.
The following day Kweku Tsin gathered all the people of the village together in the Assembly Place, and then beat the drum once more. In this way every family got sufficient food for their wants, and all thanked Kweku very much for thus providing for them.
Kweku’s father, however, was not at all pleased to see his son thus able to feed the whole village. Anansi thought he, too, ought to have a drum. Then the people would be grateful to him instead of to Kweku Tsin. Accordingly, he asked the young man where the wonderful drum had come from. His son was most unwilling to tell him, but Anansi gave him no peace until he had heard the whole story. He then wasted no time, but set off at once toward the entrance hole. He had taken the [[92]]precaution to carry with him an old nut which he pretended to crack. Then throwing it into the hole, he jumped in after it and hurried along to the silent village. Arrived at the first house, he shouted, “Is there no one in this town?” The old woman answered as before, and Anansi entered her house.
92
ANANSI SAW, RUSHING TOWARD HIM, BEASTS AND SERPENTS OF ALL KINDS
He did not trouble to be polite to her, but addressed her most rudely, saying, “Hurry up, old woman, and get me something to eat.” The woman quietly directed him to go into the garden and choose the yam which should say, “Do not dig me out.” Anansi laughed in her face and said, “You surely take me for a fool. If the yam does not want me to dig it out I will certainly not do so. I will take the one which wants to be gathered.” This he did.
When he brought it to the old woman she told him, as she told his son, to throw away the inside and boil the rind. Again he refused to obey. “Who ever heard of such a silly thing as throwing away the yam? I will do nothing of the sort. I will throw away the peel and boil the inside.” He did so, and the yam turned into stones. He was then obliged to do as she first suggested, and boil the rind. The latter while boiling turned into yam. Anansi turned angrily to [[93]]the old woman and said, “You are a witch.” She took no notice of his remark, but went on setting the table. She placed his dinner on a small table, lower than her own, saying, “You must not look at me while I eat.” He rudely replied, “Indeed, I will look at you if I choose. And I will have my dinner at your table, not at that small one.” Again she said nothing—but she left her dinner untouched. Anansi ate his own, then took hers and ate it also.
When he had finished she said, “Now go into the garden and choose a drum. Do not take one which sounds ‘Dong-dong’; only take one which says ‘Ding-ding.’ ” Anansi retorted, “Do you think I will take your advice, you witch? No, I will choose the drum which says ‘Dong-dong.’ You are just trying to play a trick on me.”
He did as he wished. Having secured the drum he marched off without so much as a “Thank you” to the old woman.
No sooner had he reached home, than he longed to show off his new power to the villagers. He called all to the Assembly Place, telling them to bring dishes and trays, as he was going to provide them with food. The people in great delight hurried to the [[94]]spot. Anansi, proudly taking his position in the midst of them, began to beat his drum. To his horror and dismay, instead of the multitude of food-stuffs which Kweku had summoned, Anansi saw, rushing toward him, beasts and serpents of all kinds. Such creatures had never been seen on the earth before.
The people fled in every direction—all except Anansi, who was too terrified to move. He speedily received fitting punishment for his disobedience. Fortunately, Kweku, with his mother and sisters, had been at the outer edge of the crowd, so easily escaped into shelter. The animals presently scattered in every direction, and ever since they have roamed wild in the great forests. [[95]]
XVII. HONOURABLE MINŪ
It happened one day that a poor Akim-man had to travel from his own little village to Accra—one of the big towns on the coast. This man could only speak the language of his own village—which was not understood by the men of the town. As he approached Accra he met a great herd of cows. He was surprised at the number of them, and wondered to whom they could belong. Seeing a man with them he asked him, “To whom do these cows belong?” The man did not know the language of the Akim-man, so he replied, “Minū” (I do not understand). The traveller, however, thought that Minū was the name of the owner of the cows and exclaimed, “Mr Minū must be very rich.”
He then entered the town. Very soon he saw a fine large building, and wondered to whom it might belong. The man he asked could not understand his question so he also answered, “Minū.” “Dear me! [[96]]What a rich fellow Mr Minū must be!” cried the Akim-man.
Coming to a still finer building with beautiful gardens round it, he again asked the owner’s name. Again came the answer, “Minū.” “How wealthy Mr Minū is,” said our wondering traveller.
Next he came to the beach. There he saw a magnificent steamer being loaded in the harbour. He was surprised at the great cargo which was being put on board and inquired of a bystander, “To whom does this fine vessel belong?” “Minū,” replied the man. “To the Honourable Minū also! He is the richest man I ever heard of!” cried the Akim-man.
Having finished his business, the Akim-man set out for home. As he passed down one of the streets of the town he met men carrying a coffin, and followed by a long procession, all dressed in black. He asked the name of the dead person, and received the usual reply, “Minū.” “Poor Mr Minū!” cried the Akim-man. “So he has had to leave all his wealth and beautiful houses and die just as a poor person would do! Well, well—in future I will be content with my tiny house and little money.” And the Akim-man went home quite pleased to his own hut. [[97]]
XVIII. WHY THE MOON AND THE STARS RECEIVE THEIR LIGHT FROM THE SUN
Once upon a time there was great scarcity of food in the land. Father Anansi and his son, Kweku Tsin, being very hungry, set out one morning to hunt in the forest. In a short time Kweku Tsin was fortunate enough to kill a fine deer—which he carried to his father at their resting-place. Anansi was very glad to see such a supply of food, and requested his son to remain there on guard, while he went for a large basket in which to carry it home. An hour or so passed without his return, and Kweku Tsin became anxious. Fearing lest his father had lost his way, he called out loudly, “Father, father!” to guide him to the spot. To his joy he heard a voice reply, “Yes, my son,” and immediately he shouted again, thinking it was Anansi. Instead of the latter, however, a terrible dragon appeared. This monster breathed fire from his great nostrils, [[98]]and was altogether a dreadful sight to behold. Kweku Tsin was terrified at his approach and speedily hid himself in a cave near by.