African American Folktales

by Roger Abrahams

  When they began the contest Kunibre sat right down in the middle of Falcon’s back. Now Kunibre was so small that Falcon didn’t even know he was up there. So they started out, and after a while, when they looked and saw how high Falcon had flown, they said, “Falcon takes first prize and he shall be our king.” But when he landed, they saw that Kunibre was there on top. So they had to say, “Well, no, Kunibre was even higher than Falcon, and he shall be our king.”

  —Surinam

  77

  LOGGERHEAD

  Once upon a time, there was a big bird in the village named Loggerhead. And everybody passing from town going home had to pass this bird:

  Coo-Cayima, Coo-Cayima

  Loggerhead, Loggerhead

  Coo-Cayima.

  Every day, Loggerhead picked out one person, flew down out of that tree, man, and swallowed him whole. Every day, somebody else who was passing found himself with the same kind of problem.

  Old Witch Boy lived alone with his grandmother. He sat in his home, thinking about this bird, and about all kinds of magic with plants and herbs and metals and things. One day, he said, “Granny, I see a little piece of tin on that house over there. I am going to go and get that and make a special knife.” When she asked why, he said, “I heard that there is a bird up the road there who, whenever someone passes going home from town, he flies down off a tree and swallows him whole. I want to know how he is so strong and powerful that he can swallow anybody whole.” So he got the tin and sharpened it all up and made it into a sharp, sharp knife, and he put a handle on it. When she saw what he was going to do, the old grandmother started to cry. She said, “Oh God, Grandson, you know today, Lord, you’re the only family I have left here on earth to look after me. I don’t have anybody else to look after me but you. If you go up there, you’re going to lose your life today.” He said, “Granny, don’t be frightened for me. I’ll go and cool everything for everybody.” And he went up the road so, with his little knife.

  By the time he reached from here to there, he began to sing this mischievous song they sang about Loggerhead: “Coo-Cayima.” And right away, here comes this big bird flying down from where he lived, and he picked up the boy flapping his wings and singing that song:

  Coo-Cayima, Coo-Cayima

  Loggerhead, Loggerhead

  Coo-Cayima.

  And he swallowed him right down. And Old Witch Boy took out his little knife and he started to cut a hole in Coo-Cayima’s belly, yes, right in the belly, until he cut a hole through and he dropped out on the ground. Then he walked about him with his hand in his pocket, he was a kind of boastful fellow, you know. And he started to call the bird again:

  Coo-Cayima, Coo-Cayima

  Loggerhead, Loggerhead

  Coo-Cayima.

  The bird flew down again and picked him up. This was not a little bird that you hear people talk about, you know. You would marvel to see such a large bird that was on this small island then. And when Old Witch Boy had been swallowed and made about three holes up in Coo-Cayima’s Loggerhead belly, you know he sang:

  Coo-Cayima, Coo-Cayima

  Loggerhead, Loggerhead

  Coo-Cayima, Coo-Cayima.

  And by the time he dropped down again, Loggerhead was dead, and he had made the whole world clean for others. Massa King had made a pledge already that any man that killed that bird would get his daughter, a house, and even a new car. So the Old Witch Boy married a king’s daughter immediately.

  And there the story ends, right there!

  —St. Vincent

  78

  TRYING TO GET THE GOLDSTONE

  Once upon a time, there was a bird by the name of Nancy Jane O, and most people said she was the swiftest thing flying through the air. Well, at that time, the king of all the fishes and birds and all the little beasts, like snakes and frogs and worms and terrapins and bugs, and all such as that, was the mole. And he was blind in both eyes, just like all the moles are today.

  Now the mole heard that there was way far away a little bit of stone made of gold lying at the bottom of a muddy creek. And if he could get that goldstone and hold it in his mouth, he would be able to see the same as everybody else. He thought and thought, but it appeared that the more he thought, the more he couldn’t fix in his mind any way to get it. He traveled so slowly that he had to admit it would be years on top of years before he would get to the creek. So he made up his mind to figure out how he could get someone else to get it for him.

  Now, as he was the king and could grant any kind of wish, he sent word everywhere around the countryside that any bird or fish, or any kind of little beast, that could find that stone and bring it to him, he would grant him a wish dearest to their hearts.

  Well, man, in a few days the whole world was moving. Some were hopping, and some were crawling, and some were flying, each moving according to his nature.

  Well, the birds were in the lead because they were flying so fast, but one day they heard something going f-l-u-s-h, f-l-u-s-h, and streaked by like lightning. And they all looked way ahead, they did, and they saw Nancy Jane O. Then their hearts began to sink, and they gave up right away because they knew she’d outfly everything on the road.

  Someone said, “I’ll tell you what we have to do. We’ll have to get together and have a feast and get Nancy Jane O to come, and then well all club-up together and tie her up.”

  That really hit everybody’s fancy, and they sent a lark on ahead to catch up with Nancy Jane O to ask her to the feast. Well, man, the lark nearly killed himself flying. He flew and he flew and he flew; but it seemed like the faster he went, the farther ahead flew Nancy Jane O.

  But being so far ahead of everyone else, and not dreaming that there was any kind of devilment being planned, Nancy Jane O decided to stop and take a little nap. And so the lark, he caught up with her while she was sitting on a sweet-gum limb napping with her head under her wing. The lark spoke up, saying, “Sister Nancy Jane O,” he said, “we birds are sure to win the race, and as we have flown so far, why we’re going to stop and rest a little and enjoy ourselves at a feast. And Brer Crow, he said that it wouldn’t be a proper feast at all unless you could be there. So they sent me to tell you to hold up until they come. They have lots of seeds and bugs and worms, and Brer Crow, he’s going to bring the corn.”

  Nancy Jane O thought to herself that she was fast enough to get ahead of them all again, so she agreed to wait. And bye and bye, here the rest of the birds came flying up. And the next day, they had the feast. And while Nancy Jane O was eating and stuffing herself with worms and seeds, and one or another thing, the bluejay slipped up behind her and tied her fast to a little bush. And all the other birds laughed and flapped their wings, and said, “Good-bye to you, Sis Nancy Jane O, I hope you’ll enjoy yourself.” And then they rose up and stretched out their wings and flew away.

  When poor Nancy Jane O saw the trick they had played on her, she could hardly contain herself, she was so mad. And she pulled and she jerked and stretched trying to get loose, but the string was strong enough and the bush firm enough that she just didn’t have enough strength to free herself. So then she sat down and began to cry to herself, and to sing:

  Please untie, please untie poor Nancy Jane O!

  Please untie, please untie poor Nancy Jane O!

  And after a while along came the old bullfrog Pigumawaya. He said to himself, “What’s that I hear?” Then he listened, and he heard something going:

  Please untie, please untie poor Nancy Jane O!

  And he went toward where he heard the sound coming from and found the poor bird lying down tied to a bush.

  “Humph,” said Pigumawaya, saying, “Isn’t this Nancy Jane O, the swiftest-flying bird in the sky?” He said, “What’s the matter with you, child? What are you crying about?” And the frog said, “Now look here. I was going to see if I couldn’t get that goldstone. It’s true I don’t stand much chance of getting there before the birds, but then if I ever get there, why I can just jump right
in the creek and find the stone while the birds are waiting for the creek to run dry. And now what if I untied you, Nancy Jane O, could you tuck me on your back and carry me to the creek? And then we’d be the sure winners because whenever we got there, I’ll find it and well carry it back to the king together. And we’ll both get our dearest wishes of our hearts. What do you say to that? Speak your mind. If you’re able and willing, I’ll untie you. If you’re not, then good-bye, and I’ll be getting along.”

  Well, Nancy Jane O, she thought and thought in her mind. Bye and bye, she said, “Brer Frog, I think I’ll try out your plan. Untie me,” she said, “and get on my back and I’ll take you to the creek.” Then she flapped her wings and started off. It was mighty hard flying with that big bullfrog on her back, but Nancy Jane O was a real flyer, man, you know. And she just took right off and flew and flew, and after a while she came in sight of the other birds. They looked up and saw her coming and they began to holler:

  Who untied, who untied poor Nancy Jane O!

  And the frog hollered back:

  Pig-um-a-wa-ya, Pig-um-a-wa-ya-hooo-hooo!

  Then, my friends, you should have seen the race that took place. The other birds did their level best, but Nancy Jane O, in spite of all they could do, she gained on them. And old Pigumawaya, he sat up there and kept urging Nancy Jane O on and on. “Get ahead,” he said, pushing her on; “now we’re really getting there.” And just then Nancy Jane O shot clearly ahead of all the rest. And when the other birds saw that the race was lost, then they all began to holler:

  Who untied, who untied poor Nancy Jane O!

  And the frog, he turned around and he waved his hand over his head in a circle and hollered back:

  Pig-um-a-wa-ya, Pig-um-a-wa-ya-hooo-hooo!

  After Nancy Jane O got way ahead of the other birds, she could just go along and go along nice and easy until she got to the stone. She lit on a persimmon bush near the creek, and Pigumawaya slipped off. And he raised up his feet and began to jump around, and, kerchug! dove into the water. Then he got back on Nancy Jane O. And, man oh man, she was so proud; she and the frog both, until they flew around and around in joy. And Nancy Jane O began to sing:

  Who untied, who untied Nancy Jane O!

  And the frog answered back:

  Pig-um-a-wa-ya, Pig-um-a-wa-ya-hooo-hooo!

  And while they were singing and enjoying themselves, up flew the other birds. And the frog, he felt so big because he had gotten the gold-stone, he stood upon Nancy Jane O’s back, and he held up the stone and shook it at the birds and hollered at them:

  O pig-um-a-wa-ya, Pig-um-a-wa-ya-hooo-hooo!

  And he sang and danced so hard that he felt himself slipping. And that made him clutch on to poor Nancy Jane O, and down they both fell, kerplash! right into the creek.

  The frog fell right on top of a big rock and busted his head to pieces. And poor Nancy Jane O fell down into the water and drowned.

  And that’s the end. And the king never did get that stone. And, you know, the mole is still blind.

  —Georgia

  Now, you know, everybody heard the joke about Stackolee. Well, they didn’t tell you that Stackolee died and Billy died and they went to Hell. Devil said to Billy, “I seen you every day and I know you was coming. I knowed you was on your way.” So he told Billy he could have all the fun he wants, just to keep away from his wife.

  So Billy was goofing around one day and got hold of the Devil’s wife, started working. Got through, he got hold of the Devil’s daughter, started to working. Got through, grabbed hold of the Devil’s niece, he started working. He was running around Hell trying to catch the Devil’s wife. She said, “Devil, get him down.” Then three jumpy little bastards jumped out of the wall and said, “Get that motherfucker before he fucks us all.”

  Back in ’32 when times was hard

  I had a sawed-off shotgun and a crooked deck of cards,

  Pin-striped suit, fucked-up hat,

  T-model Ford, didn’t even have a payment on that.

  Had a cute little broad, she throwed me out in the cold.

  I asked her why, she said, “Our love is growing old.”

  So I packed all my little rags, took a walk down Rampail Street.

  That’s where all the bad motherfuckers went down to meet.

  I walked through water and I waded through mud,

  Come a little hole-in-the-wall, they call the “Bucket of Blood.”

  I walked in and asked the bartender, “Dig, chief, can I get something to eat?”

  He throwed me a stale glass of water and flung me a fucked-up piece of meat.

  I said, “Raise, motherfucker, do you know who I am?”

  He said, “Frankly, motherfucker, I just don’t give a damn.”

  I knowed right then that chickenshit was dead.

  I throwed a thirty-eight shell through his motherfucking head.

  So a broad walked over, she said, “Pardon me, please.

  Can you tell me where the bartender is, please?” I said, “Sure, whore, behind the bar with his mind at ease.”

  She looked back and screamed, “No! My son can’t be dead.”

  I said, “You don’t think so? Look at the hole in that motherfucker’s head.”

  She said, “Who did this terrible crime, may I ask you please?”

  I said, “Me, bitch, and my name is Stackolee.”

  She said, “ Oh, I heard of you, Stack, from the tales of old.

  Be here when my son Benny Long get back.”

  I said, “Bitch, I’ll be here till the world go to pass.

  You tell your son, Benny Long, that I said, ‘Kiss my ass.’ ”

  Just then a cute little broad came over, a terrible smile.

  She looked me up and down and said, “You look like you ain’t had none, Daddy, in quite a while.”

  I said, “Now raise, bitch, don’t hand me that shit.

  I’m used to pussy quite a bit.”

  She looked at her watch, it was quarter to eight.

  She said, “Come on upstairs, I ’ma set you straight.”

  The bed gave a twist, the springs gave a twistle.

  I throwed nine inches of joint to the whore before she could move a gristle.

  We came back downstairs. They was fucking on the bar, sucking on the floor.

  Just then you could hear a pin drop, for that bad-ass Benny Long walked in the door.

  Now he walked over to the bar where his brother lay dead, And quietly said,

  “Who had the nerve to put a hole in my brother’s head?”

  I jumped up and screamed, “Me, motherfucker, put your mind at ease.

  I’m known as a bad motherfucker called Stackolee.”

  He said, “ Oh, I heard of you, Stack, from tales of old.

  But you know you done tore your ass when you fucked my hole.

  I’ma give you the chance my brother never had. I’ma give you the chance to run,

  Before I throw open my bad-ass cashmere and pull my bad-ass gun.”

  Just then some little short motherfucker way over in the corner jumped up and hollered, “Somebody call the law.”

  Benny Long throwed a forty-five shell through the motherfucker’s jaw.

  His broad walked over, she said, “Benny, please.”

  He beat that whore down to her motherfucking knees.

  Just then everything got black, ’cause out went the lights.

  I had that old bad-ass Benny Long in my thirty-eight sights.

  When the lights came back on and all the best, I had sent that old bad motherfucker to internal rest.

  Thirteen thirty-eight-bullet holes ’cross his motherfucking chest.

  His boys jumped up and said, “Ain’t this a shame.

  Here’s a man got our boss Benny Long there on the floor dead.

  This jive-ass motherfucker’s reputation we haven’t ever heard.”

  They dove in their coats and went down for this shit.

  I said, “Cool it, motherfuckers, le
t me tell you a bit.

  I was born in the backwoods, for my pet my father raised a bear.

  I got two sets of jawbone teeth, and an extra layer of hair.

  When I was three I sat in a barrel of knives.

  A rattlesnake bit me and crawled off and died.

  ’Cause after I get up and leave, my asshole print leaves ‘danger.’ ”

  —Philadelphia

  80

  ESCAPING, SLOWLY

  A goat was walking along with her two kids looking for some nice sweet grass when it began to rain. It was really coming down, so she ran under a big rock ledge to get some shelter, not knowing that it was Lion’s house. When Lion saw the three goats coming, he purred to himself in a voice like thunder.

  This frightened the mother and her kids and she said, “Good evening, Minister.” And the lion said, “Good evening.” She said that she was looking for a minister to baptize these two kids, because she wanted to give them names. Lion said he’d be happy to do that: “This one’s name is Dinner and this one’s name is Breakfast Tomorrow and your name is Dinner Tomorrow.”

  So now after hearing this roared out by Lion, the goats were really frightened, and the kids’ hearts began to leap, bup bup bup. Lion asked the mother goat what was the matter with her two kids and she said, “Well, they always get feeling this way when the room they are in gets so hot.” So she asked Lion that since they were feeling that way, could they go out and get a little cool air. Lion agreed that they could go out until dinner time, but then they must come back in. So the mother whispered to the two kids to run as hard as they could until dark came.