The Best of African Folklore

by Phyllis Savory

  Sometime later peace was declared between the rival kings. The lion sent a humble request for his throne to be restored to him, politely suggesting that a bird was really too small to be king of all things.

  But although the eagle agreed to give the lion back his throne he reminded him that since he had been completely and utterly defeated in war, he was never even to think that he was more powerful than His Majesty King Eagle, Ruler of All Flying Things – in spite of their difference in size.

  Amid a great multitude of winged creatures, the eagle rose proudly into the air, while the lion and his earth-bound followers were left, ashamed and humbled on the plain below.

  Narrator: Thandiwe Mceleni

  THE FOUR FRIENDS

  XHOSA

  Ndlebende was a sad old donkey, with memories of those good times when he was well fed and well looked after. As his master’s most useful servant, he had willingly carried heavy loads and allowed the children to climb on his back on their way to herding the cows. He even carried his master’s heavy weight without complaint.

  How different things were now, he thought, for he could not carry any load without stumbling. Life would not be too bad, even now, if only they would allow him to drowse away these last few years in peace. But the lush pastures were kept for those who worked. Only tasteless, frost-bitten grass for him.

  Even worse, on that very morning he had heard his master grumble, “Wife, I can’t stand that donkey’s laziness any longer. Even beatings have no effect these days. He’s useless, and just eats the grass that would feed our cows. Tomorrow I will have him killed.”

  There were tears in the old donkey’s eyes when he overheard his master’s plan. “I must leave this place at once,” he decided, “before it is too late! I shall be safer among the wild creatures of the forest, than here.” So after darkness had fallen, Ndlebende sadly stole away into the wild, wondering what the future had in store for him.

  Caring little where he went, so long as it was away from human beings, he walked for several miles until, weary and worn, he lay down to rest. The sun rose clear and smiling on the following morning and he felt more cheerful. Off he went and soon he came upon a dog lying sadly under a bush. “At least here is a friendly face,” he thought, so he asked, “Friend dog, why do you look so sorrowful on such a bright and pleasant morning?”

  The dog sighed mournfully. “I have every reason to be sad,” he whimpered. “This very morning I overheard my master tell his wife that as I am now too old to chase thieves when they prowl around his hut at night time, or to assist in the hunt, he intends to kill me. Do you wonder that I have left my home?”

  “Well,” said the donkey, “in that case, you and I have the same sort of trouble. Let’s join together, and go travelling somewhere we will be safe from human beings.” The dog gladly accepted the donkey’s invitation, and the two continued upon their journey.

  Before they had travelled far they heard a pitiful meowing close by. “Listen!” said the dog as they stopped. “Someone must be in worse trouble than either of us!” They hunted in the long grass and found a pathetically thin and mangy cat. “Hullo!” said the dog and donkey together, “what are you doing so far from human beings at this hour of the morning?”

  “Hush!” gasped the cat, looking fearfully over his shoulder to make certain that he was not being followed, “I only just escaped alive. Last night while I was sleeping peacefully by the fire in my mistress’s hut, I was woken by her telling her grandson to catch me and put me into a bag, and throw me into the river. She said that I am too old and feeble to earn my keep by catching rats – so why should I eat her food, and give nothing in return? Phew,” he continued after a pause, “that was a narrow escape, for they nearly got me!” His sides still heaved from the running he had had to do.

  “Then join us, friend cat,” invited Ndlebende, “for the three of us are in the same plight. Come, we will seek peace in a new country.” And the three old animals continued their journey together.

  Their path led under a large, spreading tree, and there they saw a rooster sitting upon one of the overhanging branches. “What! you, too, so far from mankind! Tell us, friend rooster, why are you sitting up there?” asked the dog. The rooster gave a frightened look around him. “You did not see anyone with a knobkerrie in his hand, looking for me, did you?” he asked. “If I didn’t have a little power left in these old wings, they would have knocked me over,” he sighed with relief. “It was fortunate that I happened to overhear them deciding I should provide the family with their next meal. A great pot of water was steaming upon the fire, ready to put me into … oh, it was dreadful!” and the poor bird shuddered at the memory of it.

  A murmur of sympathy passed among the three travellers. “You are fortunate to have met us,” said the donkey, “for we also have been forced to leave the safety of our masters’ homes because we are too old. Join us, friend rooster, and the four of us will seek the happiness in old age that our masters would not allow.”

  The four animals, each happy with their new companionship, continued along the pathway in search of a place where they could end their lives in peace. But as the night closed down upon them, they realised that they had been travelling since the early dawn. They were tired, so they decided to rest until the morning.

  Finding a suitable resting place beneath a tree, the donkey and the dog chose to sleep under its sheltering boughs, while the cat and the rooster preferred the safety of the higher branches. The rooster scrambled up until he reached the very top of the tree, where he prepared to settle for the night. “Well, well!” he exclaimed, after craning his neck to get a better view of the surroundings, “we are near to human habitation after all. We must be careful, for I see a light in the distance.”

  The cat and dog both heaved a sigh of relief because, of the four of them, only the donkey was accustomed to sleep without a shelter above his head, and the night was cold. The cat and dog therefore suggested that someone should be sent to the hut to investigate.

  “The night air has already set me shivering,” said the dog, “besides, we might find something to eat. It has been a long day without food.”

  The cat crept stealthily up to the hut and peeped inside. “Ssss-kat!” he spat when he returned to his friends. “It is a wicked place for they eat their own kind! There’s no safety for us among people like this.” And sure enough, they were cannibals. The floor was littered with human bones.

  The rooster cleared his throat. “I have a plan,” he said. “Let us drive these cannibals from their home, and then we can live there. You, Ndlebende, must stand on your hind legs with your front feet on the wall beside the door; you,” and he turned to the dog, “must climb the donkey’s back, with the cat on top of you, and I will perch on top of the cat’s head. Then, we must all raise our voices as loudly as we can. We will soon have the owners of the hut running for their lives!”

  The rooster was right. The cannibals took one terrified look at the strange, ghostly apparition which they thought was about to attack them and, without waiting to hear the end of the dreadful din that was coming from the four creatures, they rushed wildly into the night.

  “Splendid!” the donkey congratulated the rooster. “Now, when they return, all four of us must attack them inside the hut. They will be far too frightened to return after a second shock.” So, when each had eaten well from the food stored in the hut, the donkey settled down behind the door, while the dog stretched out beside him; the cat curled up in front of the fire, and the rooster perched on top of the half-closed door.

  Some time passed before the dog heard the stealthy approach of the owners of the hut, and warned his companions to be ready for them. Quietly the leading cannibal crept in at the half-closed door and, seeing the cat’s eyes glinting, he took them for the last spark of the fire.

  He bent down to blow them back to life – but what a shock greeted him! The cat sprang into his face, scratching him with ten sharp claws, while the dog attacked his l
egs. He turned to escape only to be met by the donkey’s hard hoofs and, as he reached the door, the rooster landed on his head and nearly pecked his eyes out. With yells of pain and terror the cannibals rushed from the hut and they all fled until they were far away from the fearful danger that lurked within their hut. The four friends lived in happiness and security in their own little home until they were separated by the ending that comes to us all, but not by the hand of man.

  Narrator: Thandiwe Mceleni

  Note: This story seems to be an adaptation from some early Mission school teaching. It is like an old German tale. However, it is apparently now looked upon by many Xhosa people as their own. The domestic cat did not come to the part of South Africa inhabited by the Xhosa people until early in the 19th Century, and the donkey even later.

  SANKATANE

  LESOTHO

  On the very top of the wild bare hills of Lesotho, there lived an enormous monster called Kholumolumo. One day he decided that he alone would occupy the land. So he left his hilltop home, and roamed the country far and wide, swallowing every man and beast he could find.

  From hut to hut he went, and from kraal to kraal, eating everyone and everything. Nothing was left alive. At least that was what he intended, but their ancestors were watching over Masankatane, and her son Sankatane, as they slept beneath a mat in a lonely hut. Kholumolumo missed them in his search.

  When they awoke, they went to gather food for the evening meal. A great stillness reigned over all the land. All the familiar sounds were gone. There were no songs or noises. No sounds of cattle lowing reached their ears, and they searched in vain for those they loved.

  The days passed by, and still they found no sign of man nor beast, and their hearts were sad. One day Sankatane said, “Mother, where have all our people gone?”

  Masankatane replied, “Only the monster Kholumolumo could have done this. He must have passed us over as we slept, otherwise we would have disappeared as well.”

  “Where does Kholumolumo live?” asked Sankatane. “I must find and bring our people back again.”

  “His home,” she replied, “is on the top of the highest hill, but do not dare to go near him. What could a child like you do against such a wicked monster?”

  “I’m going!” cried Sankatane.

  His mother wept, “We are the only living creatures left in this vast and hilly land. If he should take you, who is left for me?”

  But her son pushed her aside, saying, “Give me my father’s spear, his knife, and his fire-stone. It must never be said that his son is weak. I shall kill the killer of our people. Only then will I return to you.”

  He left her in tears, and climbed the hills with courage, until at last he reached the highest hill of all. There on its summit he saw the monster Kholumolumo, huge beyond his wildest dreams, its belly bulging with all it had eaten. Silently and stealthily he crept towards it, with his father’s spear poised to strike. Then he drove the blade into the creature’s side.

  Immediately there was a cry from inside the beast. Someone said, “Ow! Don’t strike on this side, for we are still alive inside.”

  “They are alive!” cried Sankatane joyfully. So he crept around to the other side of the monster, and he thrust in his spear again. This time, out of the wound came the bleat of a goat in pain. He drove his spear in once again, nearer to the tail, to be greeted by the yelp of a dog, and he realised that it was pointless to continue to use his spear for he would only harm those inside.

  The boy then walked round in front of the creature’s mouth, in the hope of getting inside it and, as he had wanted, Kholumolumo opened his jaws and swallowed him. Once inside, he took his father’s knife, and cut away the monster’s heart and liver. Then with his father’s flint he made a fire, and as the liver burned Kholumolumo died.

  Sankatane then cut his way out of the huge monster, and freed all those inside. There was great rejoicing as they gained the open air, and one by one they asked, “Who has set us free?”

  “I have set you free!” said Sankatane.

  “This is the man to be our chief” they cried, and they agreed to make him chief of all the land. Upon the hilltop, beside the remains of the monster Kholumolumo, they built a village in gratitude to their new chief Sankatane.

  For a while, life was happy for them all. Eventually jealousy broke out among them. Some said, “How is it that a child should be our chief, above the elders?” Then they planned to kill Sankatane, forgetting what they owed him.

  But Sankatane guessed how they planned to surprise him by night, bind him and throw him over a cliff onto the rocks below. Silently they waited in the dark beside the pathway by the cliff, knowing that their chief would have to pass that way.

  On that particular night, however, Sankatane changed huts with someone else, and when the murderers saw the other man approach along the path, they seized him and threw him onto the rocks below. So he died. The next day when the murderers saw their chief walking among his people, they realised that they had killed the wrong man. He called the culprits to him and asked, “Why have you killed one of my men?” They had no answer for him.

  Again they tried, and this time they hid a man in a sheaf of sugar cane, bound loosely round, and left leaning against the wall of his hut, so that when their chief went inside the hut, the hidden man could stab him. But the man that Sankatane sent to fetch fire to light his pipe was stabbed instead, and again the wrong man died.

  At last the warriors said among themselves, “It is pointless to try to kill our chief by night. The darkness is on his side. Tomorrow, when the sun is high, and we can see his face, we will end his life. Then we will rule instead.”

  On the following day, Sankatane called his mother to him and said, “I will try to escape my fate no longer. I will let them murder me, but tell them this. Those who kill me, will in turn be killed. Each will kill the other. They will fight each other to be chief. Plagues will kill man and beast, and they will live to regret what they are planning now.”

  When the sun had reached the highest point in the heavens; he watched with sorrow as they came to strangle him, and he did not try to stop them. And so, at last he died.

  Before long had passed, Sankatane’s prophesy came true. The men who had plotted against his life, now plotted against each other, until not one was left. It was many years and many generations before peace and fellowship returned to Lesotho instead of the sorrow and trouble brought about by the monster Kholumolumo.

  THE LIFTING OF THE CURSE

  LESOTHO

  Maliepetsane was a little orphan girl who lived with her aunt and uncle. After they had given her a home for many years, they decided that it was time to receive some payment for their care. Perhaps there was someone with lobola to offer – a generous marriage price for such a pretty bride?

  Now, far away from this orphan girl, there lived a couple who had an only son. A tragedy had fallen on the home when he was born, for an evil spirit had bewitched him: the top of his body was that of man, while from his waist downwards was the long, thin cold-blooded scaly body of a snake.

  “If you want him to stay with any human parts at all,” laughed the evil spirit, “you must always imitate the crowing of a cock when you speak to him. And no human must ever see him except yourselves.”

  The parents loved their only child so dearly that they obeyed the evil one’s instructions exactly. The boy grew to manhood without ever seeing another human being. His parents provided him with every comfort, and in order that he could rest at ease, they had built a shelf for him against the wall inside his hut – and there he lay day in, day out, with his long reptile tail trailing on the ground.

  Eventually, he begged his parents for a wife, to bring some change to his life. Just then it happened that they heard of the orphan-girl Maliepetsane, and they felt that surely this was an opportunity for their strange son. A girl with neither father nor mother was all that could be desired, for what would her guardians care for her husband’s looks,
so long as they received a good bride-price for the orphan?

  Arrangements were quickly made, and Maliepetsane was fetched to her bridegroom’s home. There she was told that never was she to set eyes upon her husband, and that when she talked to him, or took food to his hut, she was to crow like a cock before she set it down beside the door.

  Although it sounded most unusual, she was an obedient girl, and for a long time she did as she had been told. She cooked his food for him, saw to his needs, and held long conversations with him through his tightly closed door. Eventually, however, curiosity got the better of her and she said to herself, “What sort of man have I married? Why can’t I see his face?” Finally her desire to see him became so great that she decided to disobey her orders.

  When next her husband’s parents went to gather mealies from the field and she was left alone, Maliepetsane went to her husband’s hut, and spoke boldly through the door without first giving the usual “crow”. “It is I, your wife, Maliepetsane. Let me in. It is time we saw each other.” There was no reply, so she carefully parted the thatch to peep inside, and there she saw her husband, lying on a shelf, with his long and scaly tail trailing on the ground! He looked up with startled eyes as Maliepetsane, with a scream of fear, turned and ran wildly all the long way to the home of her aunt and uncle.

  As quickly as he could, her bridegroom reached the ground, and slithered down the path to catch her. But the evil spell was already working. Gradually his arms shrank, and all his features changed to those of a full-bodied and enormous snake.

  Deeply unhappy, he now made for the waters of a nearby lake, and plunged into it to hide his reptile shape from the world. In that way he returned to where his kind belonged.