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Tales from the Caribbean

Page 11

by Trish Cooke


  The Spirit of the Rock

  This story is based on a Carib legend from the Commonwealth of Dominica

  Long, long ago there lived a Carib woman called Martha. Martha’s husband, Joe, was a cruel, horrible man and he treated Martha badly.

  Every morning when the cock crowed, Joe would shout at the top of his voice, ‘Martha! Martha! Wake up and do your chores!’

  Martha would wake up and shout back, ‘Stop ordering me about! I am not your servant, I am your wife!’

  And Joe would laugh and shake his head. ‘That’s right, you are my wife and I am your husband, so you must do as I say!’

  Now Martha was no pushover by any means but she didn’t like to fight, and she knew from past experience that her husband would only huff and puff and get himself in a right old state if she did not do as he said. So for the sake of peace and quiet, Martha would get up without a fuss every morning bright and early and get on with the chores. As she did so, Joe would jump into his hammock and go to sleep.

  Martha’s work started very early in the morning. First she would go fishing. Then she would come back to the house before Joe and her baby were awake and she would clean then cook the fish. After that, she would bathe and dress her baby and feed her family breakfast. At lunchtime she would give them their lunch, and in the afternoon she would strap her baby to her back and take the long walk to work the fields.

  Along the way she could smell the sweet scent of flowers, and this was the best part of Martha’s day. When she returned home, she would find her husband still relaxing in his hammock and as soon as he heard her return he would call, ‘Martha! Martha! Don’t you know you have work to do?’ and she would hold her tongue to avoid a fight.

  At night-time Martha’s husband got out of his hammock and went to parties in the village. He danced and made merry all night long. In the early hours of the morning he would return home and as the cock crowed he would shout at the top of his voice, ‘Martha! Martha! Wake up and do your chores!’ Then he would climb into his hammock and sleep.

  Every day was the same for the Carib woman Martha. While her husband relaxed, she did all the work!

  Until one day …

  While Martha was fishing, a funny thing happened. She was looking at her reflection in the water, shaking her head and saying, ‘Why, oh why, do I live such a horrible life?’ when she saw something strange.

  Staring back at her from the water was the face of a wise old woman. Martha looked behind her but there was nobody there. When Martha looked back in the water, the wise woman’s face began to sparkle and shimmer in the water and then she spoke with a gentle, reassuring voice.

  ‘Lady, I know you are sad and tired, but things will get better.’

  Martha gasped with amazement, but the wise old woman carried on speaking.

  ‘Listen to me carefully,’ she said. ‘You see that rock over there?’

  Martha looked in the distance and saw a huge rock up on the hillside.

  ‘Yes, I see it,’ she said.

  ‘That’s the Pegua Rock,’ said the wise old woman. ‘On top of that rock grow all manner of charms, but the one you need is the white flower with so sweet a scent that people passing on the highway at the foot of the cliff stop to savour it.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Martha, ‘I have smelt that sweet scent many times on my long walk from working in the fields!’

  ‘Well,’ said the wise old woman, ‘that flower is special. When it is in bloom, a new flower comes every hour of the day, and every hour another fades and falls.’

  ‘What a peculiar flower, to only live for an hour,’ said Martha.

  ‘If you are lucky enough to get one of these flowers,’ said the wise old woman, ‘you may command whom you will with it.’

  ‘Really?’ said Martha, immediately thinking of her husband. With this flower, she could take command of her husband and stop him from being terrible to her.

  ‘But if you go to the rock seeking this flower,’ said the wise old woman, ‘be sure to take with you some fine tobacco as a gift to the Spirit of the Rock.’

  ‘The Spirit of the Rock?’ gulped Martha.

  ‘Why yes,’ said the wise old woman, ‘for the spirit guards the flower …’

  ‘Very well,’ said Martha, looking up at the rock. When she looked back again at the water she saw only her own reflection. The wise old woman had gone.

  Martha continued to fish, thinking all the while. Could what she had just seen be true? Did a wise old woman really speak to her from out of the water? And was there such a thing as a magical flower that she could use to command her husband?

  When Martha got home, as usual she cleaned and cooked the fish. Afterwards she bathed and dressed her baby and fed her family their breakfast.

  At lunchtime she gave them their lunch and afterwards her mind started to ponder all the wise old woman had said. She longed for a time when her life could be her own again.

  That afternoon, as usual, Martha strapped her baby to her back and took the long walk to work the fields. Along the way she could smell the sweet scent of flowers and she thought hard about how she might get to the rock without alerting suspicions from her husband.

  As she worked the fields, she thought and thought about a better life and, on her walk back along the highway, the beautiful scent of the special white flower on the top of the Pegua Rock wafted down to her once more.

  ‘If only I could get one of those flowers,’ Martha said to herself. The rock seemed so far away.

  When Martha arrived home, she found her husband still relaxing in his hammock. As soon as he heard her return, he called loudly, ‘Martha! Martha! Don’t you know you have work to do?’ and she held her tongue.

  That evening, as usual, Martha cooked supper and her husband got up from his hammock to eat the fish and cassava bread that she had prepared.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ he said to Martha angrily. ‘You have such a faraway look in your eye. I don’t like it.’ Before Martha could answer, Joe put on his hat and his coat and said, ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ Martha bid him goodnight with a nod of her head, and the door slammed shut behind him.

  But although she was tired Martha just could not sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed. At last, she decided to sit outside and take in the night air. It was peaceful, sitting alone with her thoughts. From her home she could see the Pegua Rock in the moonlight, high up on the hillside.

  If only she could get to one of those flowers, she thought. If only …

  That night when her husband came home Martha was still outside. She hid as he went straight to his hammock and fell asleep. As she watched him sleep, she knew that she could no longer continue to live as her husband’s slave. Knowing he would wake as soon as the cock crowed to give her his usual orders, Martha hurriedly searched his things for some tobacco to take with her as a gift for the Spirit of the Rock. She found a stash of tobacco by his pipe and wrapped some of it in paper to take with her. Then she left her fishing things close to her husband’s hammock, grabbed some of the leftover cassava bread and a little water. She then took her beloved baby and set out on the long walk to the Pegua Rock.

  When they reached the Pegua Rock, Martha sat her child down and gave her the bread to eat and a little of the water. Then she climbed a little until she reached a crack on the top of the rock. The crack went right the way through to the inside, and Martha guessed that it was where the spirit lived.

  ‘Spirit of the Rock!’ she called. ‘Spirit of the Rock!’

  And a low voice came from the crack in the rock. ‘It is I. Who goes there?’

  ‘I am Martha, the wife of a lazy man who does nothing all day while I do all the work. At night he goes out to parties and stays out all night! I have always been a good wife to this man.’

  ‘And what do you want from me?’ asked the spirit.

  ‘I bring you an offering of tobacco,’ said Martha, feeding the tobacco into the crack in the rock.

  The Spirit of the
Rock was pleased. He laughed happily. ‘Take a flower,’ he said. ‘As soon as it blooms, take it and bathe in the river with it before it dies.’

  Martha waited patiently for a fresh flower to bloom and then she picked it gently. The delicate white petals glowed in the sunlight and the sweet scent was intoxicating. She took her child, and hurriedly went down to the Pegua River to bathe. And when she had bathed she rubbed the flower all over her body and flung the shreds in the wind. They disappeared immediately.

  Martha had no sooner left the river than she heard her husband coming after her with the fishing things she had left behind.

  ‘Martha!’ he called. ‘Don’t you know you have work to do?’

  Martha bravely answered, ‘I am no longer your slave! You have been a lazy, selfish husband and I have had enough!’ And as she spoke there was a whoosh of a soft breeze and her husband was transformed into a bird with a bright yellow beak and claws.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ the bird said. ‘I am here to serve you.’

  ‘Then you can start by catching some fish to feed me and your child,’ Martha said. The bird flew off immediately to fetch fish from the river. And from that day on Martha never had to do a day’s work again for as long as she lived.

  The Elephant Drum

  This story is based on a folk tale from Haiti

  There was once an old king with three sons. The youngest son of the three, Emmanuel, was known to be his favourite. The elder two brothers were very jealous of him.

  One day the king became very sick and worried that he might die. He decided that he wanted to find out which of his sons loved him the most, so asked each of them how, once he had died, they would celebrate his life at his funeral.

  The two eldest sons knew that if they could please their father with their answer he would reward them well, but the third son, Emmanuel, thought hard about his answer as he wanted to be honest.

  The first son answered by saying, ‘Father, because I love you so much, when the time comes for you to leave us, I will weep and weep and weep. We will have a quiet funeral as it would be a shame to waste all your wealth on anything too fancy. Your loss will be too great for me to bear, and after you are gone I will not allow anyone in this kingdom ever to smile again.’

  ‘Son, I can see from your answer that you truly love me,’ said the king.

  When it came for the second son to answer, he said, ‘Father, because I love you so much, when the time comes for you to leave us, I will weep and weep and weep. We will have a quiet funeral as it would be a shame to waste your wealth on anything too fancy. Your loss will be too great for me to bear, and after you are gone I will not allow anyone in this kingdom ever to speak again.’

  ‘Son, I can see from the answer you have given that you and your brother love me equally,’ said the king to his second son.

  The king then turned to his third son and asked the same question.

  Emmanuel answered thoughtfully. ‘Father,’ he said, ‘truly I love you very much, but when you are gone I will not cry. Instead, I will remember all the good times we have shared and I will be happy.’

  The father felt insulted. ‘You will not cry when I am gone?’ he asked.

  ‘Father, we have had so many good times,’ said Emmanuel, ‘and for that I am grateful.’

  The king thought about what his son had said. It was true. ‘It is true, son. We have had many pleasurable times. But …’

  Emmanuel interrupted him. ‘I will not mourn you when you are gone. I will celebrate your life and spend plenty of your money on a big party!’

  The king was taken aback at Emmanuel’s words and the first two sons started to nudge each other and smile. They knew that the answer their younger brother had given was not what the king had expected to hear from his favourite son. They hoped that the king would disown Emmanuel and leave all his worldly goods to them when he died instead.

  Emmanuel noticed that his father looked sad and in a bid to make him smile again he said, ‘It will be the finest of celebrations. We will make fete and party and dance all night to the drum of the Elephant Queen.’

  Now the king began to smile. The drum of the Elephant Queen was a special drum, sacred and hidden in a secret place.

  ‘You would do that for me?’ he asked. ‘Son, I can see from the answer you have given me that you love me more than your brothers.’

  The king was content with all of his sons’ answers but he liked the answer that his favourite son had given him the most.

  As the days went by the king became sicker and he called his son Emmanuel into his room.

  ‘I fear I may not have many days left, my son. You must prepare for my funeral. Go and get the drum belonging to the Elephant Queen so you can celebrate my life, as you promised.’

  Suddenly Emmanuel began to regret what he had said to his father. He had become carried away in trying to please his father, and had foolishly promised him something that would be impossible to get. He had no idea where to find the drum of the Elephant Queen.

  It was said in those parts that, whenever it thundered, the sound of the rumbling was the sound of the elephants gathering together to dance and play drums in a sacred and special place. No one knew if this was true and, even if it was, no one knew where this sacred and special place might be. How could Emmanuel have been so foolish as to promise such an impossible thing to his dying father?

  Despite not knowing where to start in his search, Emmanuel packed a parcel of food and set off to the village. He asked everyone he passed if they knew the way to the place where the elephants danced to the drum of the Elephant Queen, but nobody knew how to help him. Tired and frustrated, he stopped for a bite to eat.

  As he ate, a blind beggar with a stick came towards him. ‘That smells good,’ the beggar said. ‘Please could you give me a piece of whatever you are eating?’

  Though he didn’t have very much food to last him his journey, Emmanuel broke a piece of cornbread from his loaf and gave it to the blind beggar.

  ‘Thank you, kind sir,’ said the blind beggar.

  ‘If you were not blind, I would ask if you have seen the place where the elephants dance to the drum of the Elephant Queen,’ said Emmanuel.

  The blind beggar laughed. ‘Not even those who have eyes have seen such a place,’ he said. The blind beggar enjoyed his cornbread and then he wished Emmanuel luck in his search and went on his way.

  Emmanuel walked until dark, asking everyone he saw on the way if they knew where he might find the place where the elephants dance to the drum of the Elephant Queen. No one could help him. That night he slept in the grass at the edge of the road and in the morning he woke and carried on with his search. He walked and he walked, asking everyone he met along the way for directions. Nobody could help him. At midday, as the sun shone on his back, Emmanuel decided he would take a rest under the shade of a tree. He sat down and took out his parcel of food. As he did so a crippled man on crutches came to join him. The man had only one foot.

  ‘Please could you give me a morsel of what you are eating?’ said the crippled man. ‘I am so hungry.’

  Though Emmanuel only had a little food left and not much at all for the journey ahead of him, he broke a piece of cornbread from his loaf and gave it to the man. The man was a jolly fellow and had plenty of jokes to share with Emmanuel. But he too had no idea where to find the place where the elephants dance to the drum of the Elephant Queen.

  ‘I am no better off than you are,’ said Emmanuel. ‘You may only have one leg and you may not be able to travel far, but though I can travel far with two legs I still don’t know how to find the great drum of the Elephant Queen.’ The crippled man thanked Emmanuel for the food and wished him well in his search before he left.

  Emmanuel walked and walked, asking everyone he met along the way if they knew where he could find the great drum of the Elephant Queen. Nobody knew how to help him. Night-time fell and Emmanuel was feeling cold and hungry.

  Sitting at the side of the
road was an old man by a fire. He called over to Emmanuel, ‘Come and join me. You look cold and tired.’

  Emmanuel went and sat beside the man and opened up his parcel of food. ‘Would you like some cornbread?’ he asked the old man, though he knew the tiny morsel he had left was barely enough for one.

  ‘Yes please,’ said the man, and Emmanuel broke his small piece of cornbread in two and shared it with the man.

  ‘Thank you,’ the old man said. ‘How very kind of you to give me this third piece of cornbread. I also thank you for the second piece and the first piece.’

  Emmanuel looked confused. ‘I have only given you one piece!’

  The man shook his head.

  ‘I was the blind beggar man with whom you shared your cornbread, and I was also the crippled man you fed.’

  Emmanuel was shocked.

  ‘I am not a blind beggar or a crippled man or indeed an old man. I am a wizard with magical powers, and I can help you find the drum of the Elephant Queen.’

  ‘You can?’ said Emmanuel excitedly. ‘Which way do I need to go?’

  ‘First you must listen to what I have to say,’ said the wizard. He stared into the fire and then spoke again. ‘Go north across the grassland and after a while you will get to a giant mapou tree. You must climb it and wait there. It is here that the Queen of the Elephants plays her drum and the rest of the elephants come to dance. She will play her drum and they will dance until they are tired and then they will fall asleep. When they are asleep you will have your chance to take the Elephant Queen’s drum. You’ll have to be quick because if she catches you you’ll be done for. I can give you four special stones to protect you. Use them wisely.’

  The wizard gave Emmanuel four blue stones and as the fire went out he disappeared.

  Emmanuel slept by the roadside and the following morning he woke up full of excitement, ready to find the Elephant Queen’s drum.

  He went north across the grassland as the wizard had instructed, until he reached the giant mapou tree. Then he climbed to the top and waited all day. There was no sign of any elephants.

 

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