African Folktales

by Roger Abrahams

  Now on this tree there was a dead branch. If one stepped on it, one got down in a hurry. The little one said they would give her a mat to rest on. “We will lay the mat there, near the dead branch, and then we will heat some water.”

  The children put down the mat for Leopard and then they put some water on to heat. Now, they had Leopard in a good place! Now, they could throw boiling water on her head, and if she tried to hold on, she would have to reach the dead branch. Little Cat said, “All softly, over the head of the great,” and he threw the boiling water over her. Leopard grabbed the branch, the branch broke, and she fell to the ground on her left side.

  Before this, when Leopard saw you, she would turn sideways. Now, since she hurt her side, she must meet her enemy face to face.

  —Dahomey

  73

  Treachery Repaid

  Hare used to get on well with Jackal and they were firm friends. One day, when they were sitting around, Hare said to Jackal, “Let’s kill our mothers,” and Jackal agreed.

  Jackal thereupon got hold of his mother and killed her, but crafty Hare had never intended to kill his mother. Jackal then began to suffer cruelly from hunger, while Hare went to his burrow and said, as follows:

  Mother open the door-o,

  I am not like that Jackal-o,

  Who killed his mother-o,

  He of the long tail-o!

  When he had finished singing, his mother opened the door, and Hare had his food. When he had finished eating, he went to join Jackal. Jackal, meanwhile, had really shriveled up with starvation. One day, he followed Hare and heard him sing his song outside the door of the burrow:

  Mother open the door-o,

  I am not like that jackal-o,

  Who killed his mother-o,

  He of the long tail-o!

  He saw Hare’s mother open the door. Hare went in and found his mother had cooked food. He ate, went out, and told his mother, “Make the door fast.” Jackal saw all this and said to himself, “Well, now I know.”

  A day or two later, Jackal went up to the burrow and sang Hare’s song:

  Mother open the door-o,

  I am not like that Jackal-o,

  Who killed his mother-o,

  He of the long tail-o!

  Hare’s mother opened the door and Jackal went in and ate the food. Then he took Hare’s mother, killed her, and left, leaving the door shut behind him.

  Soon, Hare came along and sang in the same way as always. When no sound came from inside he sang again, but all was silent. Then he opened the door and saw his mother lying there with bared teeth, and he said, “Hey mother, what are you laughing at?” When there was no response, he took hold of her and saw she was dead. “Who has done this?” he asked himself. “It must be Jackal. We’ll see about that.”

  He went out and found Jackal eating some fruit. Hare said to him, “What have you done?” Jackal replied, “You told me, ‘Let’s kill our mothers,’ and though I did so, you refused. You tricked me, and now you see what’s happened.”

  From that time, friendship of Hare and Jackal came to an end.

  —Fipa

  74

  The Great Dikithi

  Once, in the old days, Nthoo the Leopard invited Mbwawa the Silver Fox into the forest with him to eat wild berries. When they were in the forest, Nthoo climbed up the Thaa tree. While Nthoo was in the tree, Mbwawa took Nthoo’s ladder and threw it on the ground. Then he went home and left Nthoo in the tree.

  Now, while Mbwawa was home, he married Nthoo’s wife. Nthoo, who could not get down from the tree, made a little red bird called Kavuramakhithi from its fruits. He sent Kavuramakhithi to tell his wife that Mbwawa had left him there up in the Thaa tree. When Kavuramakhithi reached Nthoo’s home and told Nthoo’s wife what had happened to her husband, she did not answer him, Kavuramakhithi returned to Nthoo and told him this.

  Nthoo again sent Kavuramakhithi the red bird to his wife. When it reached Nthoo’s home, he again gave the message, saying that Nthoo was up in the Thaa tree and could not get down. One of the small children of Nthoo heard this, and ran to his mother, and said: “Mother, listen to the bird in the tree.”

  Nthoo’s wife now sent the children into the forest with the little red bird. He flew in front, and they followed him until they reached the tree where their father was sitting. When Nthoo saw his children, he was very pleased, and told them to take the ladder and put it up against the tree. When the children had done it, their father came down. He said, “Let’s go home, children.”

  Now, when they reached their home, Mbwawa the silver fox ran away. Nthoo said, “One day I will catch Mbwawa. He thinks he is very clever, but I will kill him and give his meat to the vultures.”

  After a while, an old man called the Great Dikithi, who had only one eye, came along with his wife. He asked if Nthoo would like to take his wife and children and go with Dikithi across the river to live, because there were many cattle there. Nthoo agreed to go.

  When they reached this new place one-eyed Dikithi left all the people in the new village and went to steal cattle. He brought the stolen cattle to the river and shouted to his wife, “Take the guinea fowl and beat the water with it, so that the cattle will cross the river.” She did as Dikithi said, and all the cattle crossed the river to the new village, where they were slaughtered for a great feast.

  The cattle were cooked all night long. In the night, old Dikithi awakened and ate all the meat from the pots and left only water. When the people awoke in the morning, they found that all the pots were empty.

  In the afternoon, old one-eyed Dikithi, who also had only one leg and only one arm, went back to the place where he had stolen the cattle, and there he stole some more. He said to his wife, “Beat the water with the guinea fowl again, and I will give you ten cattle because you are so clever.” Then old Dikithi started singing:

  Maenga Nyambi, beat the water with the guinea fowl.

  The ten cattle are yours.

  Dikitht’s wife beat the water with the guinea fowl and the cattle crossed the river. Now all these were killed for another feast. When they had been cooked, Kadimba the Hare said to himself, “Dikithi ate all the meat last night.”

  Kadimba said to himself, “I will take two small fireflies from the river and put them on my skin trousers tonight, set them on my clothes, so that Dikithi will see them when he comes to steal the meat from the pots, and will think that we see him.”

  That night when Dikithi, who was also a great giant and a cannibal, came to steal the meat, he saw two eyes looking at him. He became very angry with Kadimba and said, “Why don’t you sleep in the night? Thimba the Genet, Thinona the Gray Wildcat, Kangambe the Polecat, Dimbungu the Hyena, and Nthoo are all asleep.”

  Dikithi came back a second time to steal the meat from the pots, but he saw the same bright eyes looking at him. He was very angry at Kadimba and said, “Your balls!” Then Dikithi went back to his house.

  Early in the morning, Dikithi’s sons cleaned up the big wooden basins to put in the meat from the pots. Nthoo called one of them to go and tell Dikithi to come and serve up some meat. Dikithi said, “I don’t want to eat any meat that has been cooked for a long time.” Then the boys ate the meat from the pots.

  Dikithi took his hoe and went to the elephant’s path and dug a big hole. After the hole was finished, he covered it with grass so the elephants couldn’t see it. Then he took off his skin trousers, threw them up in a tree, and started singing over and over again, “Please elephants, take my trousers down from the tree.” When the elephants came he said to them again,

  Please elephants, take my trousers down from the tree.

  But when the elephants tried to do it, they fell into the hole. Then Dikithi took his spear and killed them.

  After that, Dikithi went to his children and told them to help him bring the elephants home. He said to them, “I am not going to give you any of the meat because you ate all my meat this morning.”

  When the boys had brought
all the meat home, Dikithi sent Thinona and Thimba to go and call his mother-in-law to come and help him eat the elephants.

  When Dikithi’s mother-in-law arrived, he told his children that they were all going back to the village where they used to live. The children started cutting wood for carrying the meat of the elephants. Dikithi, too, cut a long pole so he could help carry the meat. He put some of the meat on one end of the pole and some of the meat on the other end. He then started singing:

  I want to try my load before I carry it.

  After Dikithi sang his song, they began the journey. When they reached their old home, they started cooking the meat. In the evening, Kadimba went to the river and found some fireflies. During the night, he put two of them on his belt. When Dikithi awakened and came to the pots, he saw the eyes looking at him. He became very angry with Kadimba and cursed him. Then he went home to sleep.

  In the morning, Nthoo sent a boy to ask Dikithi to give them some meat. Dikithi refused and said, “I will not give you any meat; and I will not eat meat that has been cooked for a long time.”

  That night Dikithi told his wife, Thinona, Thimbu, and Kadimba to take all his things and leave Nthoo’s village. He said, “Nthoo is no good.”

  Dikithi’s wife said, “I want to take my mother with us.” Dikithi said, “No, you may not bring your mother with us.” Then they left the old woman and went away. But when they made camp for the night, they saw an old woman, the mother-in-law of Dikithi. She was singing this song:

  You took my daughter away. I will follow you.

  Early in the morning, Dikithi killed the old woman and covered her with a pot. Then they continued their journey. On the way, the rain came, so they waited under a tree for it to stop. After the rain stopped, they continued on their journey. Then further along, they found a dead eland. When Thimba, Kadimba, and Kangambe saw it they began to complain because one pot had been left behind. They said to their chief, “Please let us return and get the pot,” and Dikithi let them go.

  When they reached the pot, Kadimba touched it. The pot said, “Who is touching me?” Kadimba said, “It is I, Kadimba.” Then the old woman who had been left behind, said, “All right, you may take the pot because I will go with you to see my daughter.” But Kadimba and the other boys ran off with the empty pot, and left the old woman behind.

  The old woman came near to the camp of Dikithi, singing this song:

  You took my daughter. I will follow you.

  When Dikithi saw the old woman coming, he took some fire and burned the grass so that she could not cross to the camp. The old woman took off her leather skirt and started beating the fire. She sang this song:

  I will quench this fire and come through to you.

  The old woman could not put out the fire so she got into an ant-bear hole until the fire passed over her and away. At midnight she came out of the hole, and followed them again. When she reached the others she said to Dikithi, “I am going to kill you and cut off your balls because you lost me twice on the road.”

  When Dikithi saw that the old woman was still following him, he took his wife and ran away and climbed up a Kakoma tree. The old woman pursued them until she reached the tree.

  She said to Dikithi, “I am going to cut off your balls.” Then she started to cut down the Kakoma tree with her axe. She sang this song:

  I am cutting down the tree.

  Dikithi called locusts to come and bite his old mother-in-law. The locusts came and bit the old woman. She took off her skirt and started to beat the locusts with it. She sang:

  I am fighting with locusts.

  Then the locusts went away.

  Dikithi now called Nyemay the Lion. When Nyemay came the old woman started singing:

  I am fighting with Lion.

  The old woman then got into a hole in a big tree and Nyemay went away. After Nyemay had gone, she got out of the hole in the tree, and shouted to Dikithi, “I am going to cut off your balls!”

  Dikithi now called Thitengo the Bird. Thitengo built a fire around the old woman, whose name was Kakaurukathi, the Old Woman Giant, and burned her to death.

  When Dikithi saw that she was burned to death, he and his wife got down from the Kakoma tree. He took the foreleg of old Kakurukathi and made a whistle of it. He then took the whistle up in the Kakoma tree and started whistling with it, and singing:

  I am whistling with the foreleg of old Kakurukathi.

  Then came the very old Dikithi, the father of the Great Dikithi. The very old Dikithi, who was a mighty head chief, said to the young Dikithi, “Throw that whistle to me!” The Great Dikithi said, “No, I will not; for the whistle is mine.”

  The Great Dikithi took out a long rope and said to Old Dikithi, “If you want to come and whistle up in the Kakoma tree, you must let me tie your neck with this rope and I will pull you up.”

  Old Dikithi agreed to the Great Dikithi’s plan. Old Dikithi put the rope around his own neck, and then his son began to pull him up into the tree, but Old Dikithi started crying, “You are hurting me, let me down!” After the Great Dikithi had loosened the rope from his old father’s neck, he began to whistle again. When his father heard him he said, “Throw that whistle to me!” The Great Dikithi said, “I will not throw the whistle to you. If you wish to whistle, you must come up into the tree.”

  Once again, the Great Dikithi tied the rope around the neck of his old father and began to pull him up. When the old man was almost to the top of the tree, the Great Dikithi cut the rope. Old Dikithi fell down, broke his neck, and died.

  The Great Dikithi and his wife got down from the Kakoma tree. He said to his wife, “I know the stomach of this old man is full of cattle, goats, and everything.” Dikithi called Dikwii the Vulture to come and open the stomach, but Dikwii broke his beak trying. Then Dikithi called Mombo the Heron to open the stomach of the old man. Mombo tried hard but he, also, broke his beak. Then, Dikithi asked another bird called Dipongo, but he, too, broke his beak on the tough stomach of Old Dikithi. After Dipongo, Ngonga the Eagle tried, but he did not fare any better than the others.

  Finally Dikithi called Kavuramakhithi, the small red bird. Kavuramakhithi told Dikithi to cook some mealy bugs for him. After he ate the cooked mealies he got inside the mouth of Old Dikithi and went straight through him until he came out of his anus. Then the stomach of the old father of Dikithi opened up and all the animals, many people, cattle, elephants, and goats walked out.

  Dikithi then called these animals and people together and told them they could all live in his village.

  —Bantu

  75

  The Work Done by Itself

  The hyena had a little one, and it died: the bush cat also had a little one, and it died, too. The bush cat took a dislike to its country, and so did the hyena. Therefore, each went to seek for a better place.

  When it arrived at a spot it liked, the hyena said, “This will do. Tomorrow, at daybreak, I will come and pull up the grass.” The bush cat chanced upon the same place and it pleased him too. He tore up the grass and went away to sleep.

  Next morning the hyena returned. “Oh!” he cried, “what a good place! I was going to pull up the grass, and the grass has already pulled itself up.” He took possession, swept the ground, and went away. The bush cat came back in his turn. “Oh!” he said, “what a good country! I was going to sweep, and the ground has swept itself.” He cut down some trees to use as house poles, left them on the ground, and went away.

  The hyena returned, fixed the poles in the ground, and went away to sleep. Then the bush cat came. “The poles,” he said, “have planted themselves,” and he cut some bamboos and put them on the ground. The hyena came and fastened the bamboos to the poles. Then the bush cat took the grass and thatched the house. “How is this?” said the hyena when he came again. “The roof is made.”

  He divided the house into two parts, keeping one room for himself and leaving the other for his wife. Then the bush cat returned. “Good!” he said. “The house has div
ided itself into two. This part I shall keep for myself, and that I shall give to my wife. In five days I will bring my property here, and settle down.” The hyena, too, arranged to move in at that time.

  When the fifth day arrived, the bush cat took his property and came with his wife. The hyena did the same. The hyena went into one room, and the bush cat into the other. Each believed that there was nobody else in the house. Then, at the same moment, each one broke something, and each one said, “Who is breaking something in the next room?” And each one ran away.

  They ran as far as from Keta to Amutino, and then they met. “What are you doing, oh, Hyena?” asked the bush cat. “I had built a house,” said the hyena, “and something drove me out. I don’t know what.” “The same thing happened to me,” said the bush cat. “I cut down trees, and the poles planted themselves.” The hyena said, “I found a place that I liked, and I was going to pull up the grass, but when I went to do it, the grass had pulled itself up!”

  Then the bush cat and the hyena began running again. They have never been able to look at each other since.

  —Ewe

  76

  Two Friends from Their Childhood

  There were two men who from their childhood had been fast friends, and never were known to have quarreled with one another. So great was their friendship that they had built their homes close together. They were divided one from the other only by a native path.