African American Folktales
Page 14
So the brother and sister went off into the bush, the boy going one way and the girl another. And they agreed to meet back in this field. But where the boy went, he couldn’t find any roses at all, while the girl found six beautiful flowers that she made into a nice bouquet.
When they met in the field, the boy was so vexed to see that bouquet that he picked up a big stick and hit her over the head. He then dug a hole underneath a big willow tree that was growing in that field, and he buried her there. He took the flowers and went back to his father’s house, and gave them to him. They waited and waited for the sister to come but she never did, which made the king very sad because he loved her so much.
There was a flock of sheep that belonged to the king, feeding in that field one day, and the shepherd boy was walking underneath that willow tree and he heard something singing:
Shepherd boy, shepherd boy,
Don’t you know this horn you blow?
My brother he has killed me in the woods.
And he took my flowers away.
And he dug a hole and buried me
Beneath that willow tree.
The shepherd had a dog, and his dog started to scratch the ground when he heard this song, and he dug up a bone. So he brought it to the shepherd boy, and the shepherd boy saw it looked like a fife, so he blew:
Shepherd boy, shepherd boy,
Don’t you know this horn you blow?
My brother he has killed me in the woods.
And he took my flowers away.
He dug a hole and buried me
Beneath that willow tree.
So when the shepherd came down to his home that night he wondered what he had found. He blew the bone as he was walking home:
Shepherd boy, shepherd boy,
Don’t you know this horn you blow?
My brother he has killed me in the woods.
And he took my flowers away.
He dug a hole and buried me
Beneath that willow tree.
The shepherd was really worried about the bone. “What kind of thing is this?” he asked himself. And he played and listened to it over and over.
So the next day he took the bone with him to the field and played it. And the sheep and the dog descended and led him right to the king. And when they went, the shepherd came directly in front of him with the bone, and it started to sing:
Father dear, Father dear,
Don’t you know this horn you blow?
My brother he has killed me in the woods.
And he took my flowers away.
He dug a hole and buried me
Beneath that willow tree.
And the king was so amazed he took up the bone and tied it in a big white towel and put it on his truck and carried it all around the island. All the people around the island went to hear that bone. And when the truck reached home, he sent a horse and carriage for it, put up a big stand, and put the bone on it so more people could hear that song.
After a while, he sent all about for his people. The more people came, the more the bone would blow. And so the people all came for the brother, but he tried to hide. And they sent out all about until they found him and they brought him to the king. And the king brought him the bone.
Brother dear, Brother dear,
Don’t you know this horn I blow?
My brother he has killed me in the woods.
And he took my flowers away.
He dug a hole and buried me
Beneath that willow tree.
The king said, “I don’t know what to do to you? What can I do? What do you deserve?” And the king got a cart of pitch and they put him down in the cart of pitch and covered him with the pitch. And he put on top of the pitch some gas. And he sent that cart of pitch with his son covered with pitch all over the island. And the king went up to it and he lit a match and set it on fire. And that was how he killed his only son.
—St. Vincent
31
A BOARHOG FOR A HUSBAND
Scalambay, scalambay
Scoops, scops, scalambay
See my lover coming there
Scoops, scops, scalambay.
Once upon a time—it was a very good time—Massa King had an only daughter. And all the young fellows were constantly talking with each other about who was going to be able to marry her. They all came by to call on her, but none of them suited her. Each time one would come, her father would say “Now this is the one!” But she kept saying, “No, Daddy, this fellow here, I just don’t like him,” or “No, Mommy, this one really doesn’t please me.” But the last one to come along was a handsome young fellow, and she fell in love with him right away. And of course, when she fell in love, it was deep and wide—she just lost her head altogether. What she didn’t know was that she’d actually chosen a boarhog who had changed himself into a human to go courting.
Now the Massa King had another child, a little Old Witch Boy who lived there and did all the nasty stuff around the palace. He was always dirty and smelly, you know, and no one liked to be around him, especially the King’s beautiful daughter. One day after work the young fellow came in to visit his bride, and the Old Witch Boy whispered, “Daddy, Daddy, did you know that the fellow my sister is going to marry is a boarhog!” “What? You better shut your mouth and get back under the bed where you belong.” (That’s where they made the Old Witch Boy stay, you see, because he was so dirty.)
Now when they got married, they moved way up on the mountain up where they plant all those good things to put in the pot, roots like dasheen, tania, and all those provisions that hogs like to eat, too. One day, Massa King came up there and showed him a big piece of land he wanted his daughter and her husband to have for farming. The husband really liked that because he could raise lots of tanias—which is what boarhogs like to eat most.
So one day he went up to work, early early in the morning. Now there was this little house up by the land where he could go and change his clothes before he went to work. He went into one side of the little house, and he started singing:
Scalambay, scalambay
Scoops, scops, scalambay
See my lover coming there
Scoops, scops, scalambay.
And with each refrain he would take off one piece of clothing. And with every piece he took off he became more of a boarhog—first the head, then the feet, then the rest of the body.
Scalambay, scalambay
Scoops, scops, scalambay
See my lover coming there
Scoops, scops, scalambay.
Well, about noon, when he thought the time was coming for lunch to arrive in the field, he went back into the house and put back on his clothes, took off the boarhog suit and put back on the ordinary suit he came in. And as he got dressed he sang the same little song to change himself back into a handsome man.
Scalambay, scalambay
Scoops, scops, scalambay
See my lover coming there
Scoops, scops, scalambay.
After a while, the Old Witch Boy as usual came with the food, but this day he came early and saw what was going on, heard the singing, and saw the man changing. So he rushed home and told his father again, “Daddy, this fellow who married my sister up there really is a boarhog. It’s true!” Massa King said “Boy, shut your mouth,” and his sister said, “Get back underneath the bed, you scamp you.”
The next day, the Old Witch Boy got up very early and went up the mountain and heard the song again:
Scalambay, scalambay
Scoops, scops, scalambay
See my lover coming there
Scoops, scops, scalambay.
All right, he thought, and he went down again and he told his father what he had seen and heard. He even sang the song. Now Massa King didn’t know what to think. But he knew he was missing a lot of tanias from his other fields, so he loaded up his gun and went to see what was going on up there in his fields. Mr. Boarhog was up there changing and didn’t know he was being watched, but he though
t he heard something so he kind of stopped. The Old Witch Boy started to sing, and Mr. Boarhog couldn’t do anything but join in with him. And so there they both were, singing:
Scalambay, scalambay
Scoops, scops, scalambay
See my lover coming there
Scoops, scops, scalambay.
And the man slowly changed into a boarhog. When the King saw this he couldn’t believe his eyes. He took his gun and he let go, pow! And he killed Mr. Boarhog, and carried him down the mountain. The King’s beautiful daughter couldn’t believe what she saw and began to scream and cry, but Massa King told her what he had seen and what he had done, and then she had to believe it.
They cleaned Mr. Boarhog’s body and had him quartered. And I was right there on the spot, and took one of the testicles and it gave me food for nearly a week!
—St. Vincent
32
THE WOMAN WHO WAS A BIRD
There was this man who had a son and married a second time, but what he didn’t know was that his new wife was really a garlin, or egret. Now every time she cooked him his peas and rice and meat, she would tell him she didn’t want any because she wasn’t feeling well. Then when her husband went out to work she turned back into a garlin and went out to the pond and caught crabs and ate her belly full, and made haste to come back home and return into a person before her husband came back. Each time, just as her husband left, she would go inside the bedroom and shed her clothes and begin to sing:
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah wah,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah.
Kee bottom, kee bottom, kee pyang,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah, kee pyang.
Then two wings would come out. She would sing again:
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah wah,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah.
Kee bottom, kee bottom, kee pyang,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah, kee pyang.
Her feathers would come out on her. She would sing again:
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah wah,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah.
Kee bottom, kee bottom, kee pyang,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah, kee pyang.
A bill would come out. And then she would fly out the window and go to the pond and catch crabs.
Now the man’s son suspected his stepmother wasn’t a person, so he kept watch on her. One day he stayed home after his father had gone, and as he was watching, he heard her sing her song and saw her turn into a garlin again.
And when his father came back that night, the little boy said, “Poppa, this wife that you have isn’t really a person; she’s a garlin.” “What is that you say, boy? This couldn’t be.” “Yes, Poppa, she is a garlin. If you don’t believe me, keep watch on her like I did this morning when you leave for work.” And he described what had happened, and sang the song for his father.
The next day the garlin-wife cooked her husband’s breakfast. He ate some, and so did the little boy, but she wouldn’t eat anything. Her husband asked her why, and she said, “I’m feeling sick. No, no, husband, I just can’t eat anything this morning.” Her husband went and got his gun, loaded it up and he began to sing:
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah wah,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah.
Kee bottom, kee bottom, kee pyang,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah, kee pyang.
Now as he sang that song she burst out crying, “Don’t, husband, don’t sing that. Every time you sing that song, it makes me remember my dead mother.” She knew if he kept going, she would turn into a bird right in front of him, but he sang it anyhow. First time, though, her legs came out, and the second time it was her wings:
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah wah,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah,
Kitty Katty wang wah.
Kee bottom, kee bottom, kee pyang,
Kitty Katty kee wang wah, kee pyang.
He sang it until her feet came out, her feathers, and then her bill. He took his gun then, and killed her.
—Bahamas
33
MY MOTHER KILLED ME, MY FATHER ATE ME
Once, a woman killed her little boy, cooked him, and served him to her husband. When he asked where she had gotten the meat, she said that she had bought the meat from one of the neighbors. So the man ate, and the boy’s little sister took the bones and carried them off and laid them under an almond tree. Then the little boy’s spirit turned into a bird. He flew around and started singing. And he went into a goldsmith shop and sang:
My mother killed me, my father ate me,
My sister Marjileta took my bones and laid them under the almond tree.
The goldsmith looked at the bird and said, “Sing that song again for me, birdie, and I will give you some golden slippers.”
My mother killed me, my father ate me,
My sister Marjileta took my bones and laid them under the almond tree.
The man gave the little birdie the golden slippers. The bird flew away from there and went to the next goldsmith’s shop, and he flew around and flew around and started to sing:
My mother killed me, my father ate me,
My sister Marjileta took my bones and laid them under the almond tree.
Everybody in the shop was amazed to hear the little bird. They asked the birdie to sing. “May we hear that song?” And he sang the song again.
My mother killed me, my father ate me,
My sister Marjileta took my bones and laid them under the almond tree.
The people in the shop gave the little bird a tiny golden stone and away he went. He went home and flew onto the housetop. And after he got to the top of the house he started to sing. He sang the same song:
My mother killed me, my father ate me,
My sister Marjileta took my bones and laid them under the almond tree.
The boy’s little sister ran out of the house. As she looked at the little bird he threw the little golden slippers on her feet. She ran inside and cried, “Mama, Mama, run out and see what the birdie will give you. Look! The shoes I have on my feet are the ones that the little bird gave me.” Well, the mother ran out. The bird sang again:
My mother killed me, my father ate me,
My sister Marjileta took my bones and laid them under the almond tree.
The father heard all of this. He went outside and threw the golden grindstone around the mother’s neck and killed her. The boy flew down to his mother and said, “Mama, you killed me and I killed you.”
—Providencia
INTRODUCTION
No subject is talked about more in Afro-American communities than each other’s business—which, as we saw in the last section, means the way people behave toward one another. Such notions as respectability and reputation are therefore very important—especially respectability. Moreover, respect given and received is particularly associated with family. Discussions of behaving good and bad are often directed at heads of households, who are expected not only to display how respectable they act but to point to others’ behavior as bad or rude.
As I noted in the Introduction, this does not mean that acting bad is forbidden or even unusual. There is a common understanding that one should always expect the worst of others, especially if they are of a different age or sex. A great deal of talk is reported throughout Afro-America about how badly behaved and untrustworthy others are, even those one calls friends. And the most common feature of such maladroit actions are that others engage in talk about you: he-say, she-say talk, as many black Americans put it in the 1960s and 1970s. One may make claims to a certain degree of respectability by making negative comments about such gossip.
The other side of the coin is to testify to one’
s respectability by talking sweetly to others, especially older women, and to encourage good talk in children and grandchildren. In the speech system in which these tales took root, there were a number of traditional sweet talk events, that is, ones in which eloquence was called for: courtship speeches and letters, recitations, and speechmaking. The West Indian tea meeting, in which children were called upon by the best speechmakers of the community to perform an oration before a contentious crowd, was paralleled by recitations in schools in the United States and testimonies in churches. Heads of households, in a bid for respect, strongly encouraged their brightest youngsters to take lessons in this art.
Surely, many of the stories in this section found their place in the repertoire by being told by respect-oriented people inculcating good manners on the part of the listening children, both black and white, for the respectable ones were, of course, the ones given charge of raising the planters’ children as well as their own. The introduction to “The Doings and Undoings of the Dogoshes,” written in Uncle Remus style as a story told by an older black storyteller to her or his white charges, is typical of how the subject was approached directly.
I’ll tell you what, honey, good manners’ll get you lots further in this world than good looks. And if you want to have good manners, you have to listen to them that knows what good manners is. But then some folks don’t want to hear no advice from nobody. And you can most generally be might sure, that kind of folks is going to land right spank in the middle of trouble sooner or later.1
Such strong displays of upright character were to form an important part of neighborhood and family life throughout Afro-America. Not only was the ideal of acting sensibly and commanding respect the bedrock of the Afro-American behavior system, but this way of acting was strongly bound up with notions of teaching children to talk right, especially on those ceremonial occasions when family continuity was celebrated. At weddings and wakes, on Christmas and Emancipation Day, the speeches taught to the young not only constituted their offerings for the occasion but signaled to the community that these children came from mannerly homes. As the stories here attest, these overtly moral tales have persisted in the repertoire from the Old World, where such stories, usually performed by adults for children, were found in abundance.