African Folktales

by Roger Abrahams

  Later that day, the old people of the village came to challenge him with their test, ending with, “If you do not know the place, we must kill you.” The man said, “Oh, well, all right. Everything there is, as the greatest god wills it.” He went and showed the place, “Is it not here? It is there.”

  The chief of the village was an old man and soon died. When this happened, the stranger was taken as chief. He remained for a long time in this chieftainship, and he bore children by all of these wives he had married on his travels. He lived long.

  Then one day when he was very old, he died. His wives were left with the children, all of those whom the chief had fathered. The one who had gone into the fire for the man said, “My child owns the inheritance and must become the new chief.” But the next one said, “It is not your child who should be the next in line, for I took the rice I had cooked for my workers and gave that to the man when he could not go on. My rice saved him.” The next said, “No, that is not just, for I took my own child and threw him to the crocodiles. If I had not done that, our husband would not ever have been able to cross the river. The crocodiles would have eaten him.” Then said the last, “Hey, what about me? I came and showed the place of my father’s afterbirth, so that our man would not be killed. It was because of this, that when my father died he was made chief.”

  Well, of all these women, the wives, whose child alone should get the inheritance?

  —Limba

  28

  Killed for a Horse

  The son of a certain chief was married to the daughter of a former chief, and he had a horse, a light gray one. They had been married for some time, and the husband, before entering the hut, was in the habit of saying, “Gray horse, gray horse, you’re worth more than the women of today, these modern women.” Then, when he got into the hut, his wife would say to him, “You must kill that gray horse, before you come near me.” “Don’t stir yourself,” he said, “for I’m not killing the gray.”

  This went on for some time, until one day another chief’s son heard about it. Now he also had a gray horse. He put some clothes into his traveling bag, and mounting his gray, set off. When he got to the town he put up at the compound of an old woman. And he asked her, “Old woman, what’s the news?” “News about what?” says she. “About the chief’s son and the old chief’s daughter,” he said. “Oh, that,” said she. “Yes, they were married, but he hasn’t yet slept with her. For she says to have her he must kill his gray horse; but he, without fail, sings his gray horse’s praises every night.” “Isn’t that amazing?” he said. “Tell me, what sort of clothes does he wear, this chief’s son?” “He wears a black- and blue-checked robe, embroidered trousers, a dark blue turban.”

  Well, that day the young husband went to visit the compound of a friend of his, and they sat there, chatting, until late. And while the husband was away, this other chief’s son, having put on a black and blue-gown, embroidered trousers, and a dark blue turban went into his compound. And as he went to the wife’s hut, he said, “Gray horse, you’re worth more than the women of today, these modern women.” And as usual, the chief’s daughter answered, “You must kill that gray horse, if you want to come to me.” “Is that all?” he said, “Yes,” she said. And he went and drew his sword and slew the gray.

  Later that night, the chief’s son returned home, and when he entered the compound he found his dead horse. He said, “Someone had a grudge against the gray and has killed him.” And his wife said to him, “You’ve lost both ways—you’ve lost your horse and you’ve lost what was yours by rights.” “H’m. I see,” said he. “But don’t say a word,” she said, “just keep quiet about it. I’ll take revenge for you. Don’t get upset.” Then she got herself a razor, and put it into a basket, and collected some cloths and put them in the basket, and in went a little leather box of antimony, and a mirror, and her cola nuts, and her tobacco flowers. Then she took the basket and gave it to one of her girls to carry for her.

  And she set off along the road, inquiring the way, till she reached the town where the other chief’s son was. And there she found him, together with his courtiers. They exclaimed, “Well! There’s a girl! Is she married?” “No,” said one, and they all agreed with him that she couldn’t possibly be married and be alone like that. Then another of them said, “But she must have been married before.” The chief’s son said, “I want her. Take her to my compound.” And away they went with her and took her there.

  The sun set, and the chief’s son returned to his compound, and when night fell, he threw himself on the girl. When they had finished, he was overcome by sleep, whereupon the girl got up quietly, and taking her razor, seized his penis and cut it off. The young fellow started awake, and leaping up, tried to stand, but he fell back. A second time he tried, but again he fell back, and so died. The girl put the penis into her basket, and gave it to her servant to carry for her. Once again they took to the road, and made their way home.

  Meanwhile, the young men who were friends of the chief’s son, entered his compound and found him dead. So they went and told the chief. And the chief summoned his horsemen, saying, “As there is no horse in the whole town as fast as the one this boy rode, go quickly and tell his younger brother to saddle up the gray. Let him go after his murderer before any reinforcements come. And when he catches up with her, let him take his sword and kill her.”

  “Very well,” said the younger son, on hearing this, and he got on the gray and galloped until he caught up with her—close to where there was a large palm tree. He drew his sword to kill her, but said to himself, “Surely a girl as beautiful as this ought not to be killed.” “Look girl, let us lie together, you and I, and then I’ll let you go another way before my friends catch up with us.” But the girl answered with spirit, “What? Right here? Out in the open? No, I certainly won’t lie with you! I’m afraid you’ll just have to kill me. But, if you climb that palm tree and cut down some of its large leaves and then come down, why we can spread them out, and then you can lie with me.” “My—is that all?” said he, and proceeded to take off his gowns, his trousers, his turban, until he was wearing only a loincloth, and carrying his sword with which to cut off the leaves. Then he climbed the palm tree. But when the girl saw him make his first slash, she and her slave girl got on the horse, and spurring it, escaped. All the young man could do was say, “Come back, please, please come back, for God’s sake and the Prophet’s. I won’t kill you. Only let me have my horse back!”

  So there he was, squatting up in the tree when the other horsemen came up looking for him, right where the horse had stood. “Perhaps he has killed the girl,” one said. But another replied, “Not likely! For if he had killed her, we would see blood here—and there isn’t any.” Whereupon one of them lifted his head and saw him, squatting there up in the tree, and he said to the others, “Well, look, there he is, up in the palm tree!” “Well!” said the others in surprise. “How did you get up there dressed like that?” “Well—you see—she took my horse,” he answered. Then the others all said, “We better not trifle around with her.” So there they stopped, and suggested to him that he get down from the tree. Then they made one of his brother’s servants dismount from his horse, and gave it to him to ride. And so they returned home.

  The girl continued on and returned to her husband. “There you are,” she said, “I told I would take revenge for you, didn’t I? Look—I’ve done so, I’ve cut off his penis, and I’ve brought you his horse, which no one could distinguish from yours. They’re like twins.”

  Well now, which of the three of them would you say got most harmed—the girl, her husband, the chief’s son, or the other chief’s son?

  —Hausa

  29

  Three Wives

  There was once a man who had three wives. It happened that they were all about to bear him children, and they asked him for permission to return to their homes. He agreed to this, and on the appointed day set out with them to lead them on their way.

  Pre
sently, they came to a place where the road branched in three directions. The man turned to his women, and said: “Here I will leave you, as here it is that you will each take your different roads.” As he said this, he fell dead.

  Then the women began to make a great ado. The first woman said that she would not leave her husband like that, but would follow him, and then she went and hanged herself. The second woman said she could not leave her husband’s body for the vultures and hyenas to devour, and she sat down by the corpse and kept everything away from it. The third ran into the bush bewailing her man’s death, and there she saw a man who asked her what was the matter. When he heard, he said that he would help, and went back with the woman to the crossroads. There he took his magic cow’s tail, and tapping the dead woman and man, raised them both from the dead and gave them back their life.

  Now which of those women is best?

  —Dagomba

  30

  The Five Helpers

  There was once a beautiful girl, the daughter of a chief. She was finer to look upon than any other girl that men could see. But there was no one whom she would agree to marry.

  Men came from all countries, but she would not have them. And all the land heard the news of this girl, that though she was of marriageable age, she would take no one.

  There was also a snake, a large python who dwelt in a vast lake nearby the river. When he heard about this girl, he decided that he would marry her. So he changed himself into a man and came to the village.

  As soon as the maiden saw the young man she was delighted, and said she would marry him at once. Everyone was pleased, and that night they took the young man and the girl on to the roof of the house, for the houses in that village had flat roofs, and there they left them.

  Now during the night, the snake licked the girl all over and swallowed her, and changing again into his snake form, he made off to the great lake.

  Next morning people came to the house and called to the girl and her man to come down. There was no answer, and the chief told the people to climb up and see what was the matter. This they did, and reported that both the girl and the man were missing.

  The chief was very angry, and at once ordered all the people to follow the girl and her lover. But they could find no tracks. So they called for a man who could smell everything. He at once smelled the trail of the girl and followed it down to the great water. There he could go no further. The people, urged on by the anger of the chief, then called on a man famous through all the country for his thirst. They told him to drink up the lake. This he did. But still there was no sign of the man or the girl. Then the people called a man famous for his capacity for work and told him to take out all the mud from the lake. This he did, and thereby revealed a hole. But it was so deep that no one could reach the bottom. Then they remembered that there was a man with an arm that could stretch over all the Dagomba Island. They told him to put his arm in the hole and pull. Out came the great python, which was immediately killed. And when they had cut open its stomach, they found the girl inside, but she was dead. Then the people remembered a man who had the power of medicine, and was able to raise the dead. He came at once and restored the girl to life. Now which of those five men did best?

  —Grumshi

  31

  Many Miracles

  A holy teacher of Islam wanted to leave his city and go for a while to another one. He met a man with a club, who knew how to fight very well, and who asked to go with him. “If you wish, please do!” the Mallem replied. Then a hunter came, and said, “I know how to shoot very well; would you like me to accompany you?” “If you like, please do!” The hunter took his bow and arrow and the three set off.

  In front of the city was a big river, but since it was the dry season, they didn’t need a canoe for they were able to wade across. And so they came to the other city, where they stayed for a month. Then the holy teacher, the Mallem, said they must depart, so that they could cross the river before the rainy season. But before they reached it, the first rain had fallen, and the river was in flood. Because there was no canoe there, the Mallem advised that they wait a day for the waters to subside. During the wait, they had nothing to eat.

  The king of their home city appeared on the other bank, having come to view the swollen river. He saw the holy teacher and called across to him: “Hello, Mallem, what are you doing over there?” “We came early this morning, but couldn’t get across.” “I don’t believe,” shouted the king, “that the river is going to fall soon, and we don’t have any canoes.” “Then I’ll try it without a canoe,” answered the Mallem, who took out his papers, lay them on the water, stepped on them, lay more paper in front of him, stepped on it, picked up the paper behind him and put it in front of him, stepped on it, and so on, until he reached the other bank safely. Neither man nor paper had a drop of water on them.

  When the hunter saw this, he followed the example of the Mallem, shot an arrow into the water, stepped on it, shot another arrow into the water, stepped on it, picked up the first arrow, shot it into the water again, and so on, until he also reached the far shore safely. Then the man with the club thought: “What those two can do, so can I.” With his club he struck the water, which immediately divided itself. He crossed the riverbed with dry feet, and the water closed again behind him.

  The three joined the train of the king. Along the way, they passed an old woman, and the Mallem asked if she had something for him to eat, since he had not eaten since that morning. The woman answered, “I have nothing. When I heard that the king was coming, in my excitement, I poured cold water into the boiling water. Now I’ve shaken it all out onto the mat in order to separate the boiling water from the cold water once more.” The three continued on their way. Near the city, they met a man who was digging a well. “Don’t you have some food to sell?” asked the Mallem. “No,” answered the man, “but here it is very hot, so much so that I’m just getting ready to move my well to the shadows of that tree there. When the sun sets, I’ll move it back again.” The three went on, and came home.

  Who now, asks the storyteller, is the most miraculous of the five? The Mallem, who crossed the river on his papers, the hunter who went across the river on his arrows, the man who divided the river with his club, the woman who separated boiling water from cold water, or the man who moved his well under a tree and back again?

  —Karekare

  32

  Their Eyes Came Out

  A man was once on a trading journey with his mother, his younger sister, his wife, and his wife’s mother. They had traveled some way and the heat of the sun made them very thirsty. Reaching the foot of a tree, they sat down.

  The husband looked out and saw what seemed to be a well, and said to his sister, “Go and see if there is any water in that well. If so, draw some and bring it.” She went and peered over the edge of the well, and one of her eyes fell out, down into the well. She quickly clasped a hand over the other one and kneeled down there in no little distress.

  A little time went by, and when she didn’t return, the wife said, “Let me go and see what’s happening to that girl.” She went over and found her sitting by the well. Says she, “What’s made you sit there without drawing any drinking water for us? Isn’t there any?” And she went up and peered into the well—and one of her eyes fell into it, too. Then she also sat down wondering what to do.

  Next, the man’s mother said, “What’s taking them so long?” and she went after them. When she got there, she asked why they were just sitting. “Isn’t there any water?” she asked. And she peered down into the well—and one of her eyes also dropped down into it. Then she quickly covered her other one. And she, too, sat there.

  More time passed, and the man said, “Well, what is going on here? I guess I’ll have to go after them and see what’s happening.” He did, and when he got near the well, he said, “What’s the matter with all of you, just sitting there like that?” His wife tried to make him turn away by signaling him, but he took no notice and
peered into the well, and one of his eyes fell down into it, too. Holding on to the other one, he sat down. And there the five of them were, moaning, with one eye each.

  Eventually, a soldier came upon them out of the bush, and the man saw him. The soldier saw them as well, and came towards them. “Stop there, my friend, till I come to get you,” said the man. He obeyed, and the man came up to him, still holding his eye. Says he, “I stopped you to keep you from coming to this well. I, my mother, my mother-in-law, my wife, and my younger sister, all of us now have only one eye each from peering into the well.” “Really?” said the soldier. “Then you couldn’t have heard about this well. There is a jinn in it.” “I didn’t know,” said the man. The soldier asked, “If I go into the well and fetch out your eyes, may I take one of them?” “Yes,” answered the man.

  The soldier went down into the well, which was more than a hundred cubits deep. He quickly came back up with all five eyes. He handed the man four, and put one in his pocket, and went off. The husband took one and replaced his own. That left three. Well, who would you give those three to? Who would you not give them to?