African Myths and Folk Tales

by Carter Godwin Woodson

  The Lioness and the Cow

  There were once a lioness and a cow living near to each other, though not in the same house; the lioness gave birth to a baby lioness, and the cow gave birth to a male calf. When the two children grew up the cow’s child was mischievous, while the lioness’s child was gentle and meek.

  After a time the cow and the lioness dug a well, and got it into splendid order.

  The lioness said to the cow, “We have an excellent well, but you can’t imagine how full of mischief your son is; so please warn him lest he come and spoil our well, and cause us to quarrel and end our friendship.” The cow agreed to do so.

  Soon after this the lioness went away to obtain food, and asked the cow to look after her child while she was away. The cow consented to do so, and the two children played together near the house for some time. Presently they went farther away and came to the well. The calf first knocked some dirt into it, and after further play he pushed the baby lioness into the well and she was drowned.

  The calf ran home to his mother and said his companion had fallen into the well and was drowned.

  The cow said, “The lioness will surely kill me for this; let us run away.”

  They packed up hastily, then ran away to the bush buck, and hid with him. The bush buck made them welcome and promised to butt the lioness and drive her away should she come.

  When the lioness came back from seeking food she found the house empty, and went on to the cow’s house, but that was also empty. She then hunted about and called, but got no reply. After a long search she came upon the body of her child in the well, and wept bitterly and bemoaned her loss. She then hunted the cow and at length came to the bush buck, calling:

  The Lioness and the Dead Cub

  “Whose, whose?”

  To this the bush buck answered, “Yours, yours.”

  The bush buck said to the cow, “Run away, you will cause me my death; run away to the antelope.”

  The cow did so, and hid there for a time; but when the antelope said:

  “Run away, you are bringing me into trouble and will cause my death.”

  The cow fled to the elephant and hid with him, but when the lioness came and found her and roared, the elephant said:

  Running from the Lioness

  “Run away from here, you are bringing me into trouble and will be the cause of my death.”

  Again, then, she had to flee.

  It thus came about that the cow had constantly to run away from the lioness, and was always in fear. One day as she was fleeing away she met a Wakasanke bird which asked her why she was always running away in this manner.

  The cow answered:

  “Because my child killed the child of the lioness and she wants to kill me, and I am looking for a place where I may be safe from her wrath.”

  The Wakasanke replied:

  “Stay with me, I will frighten the lioness and drive her away.”

  The Lioness running away

  The cow gladly agreed, and stayed.

  Wakasanke made ready to receive the lioness. He first brought a flower of the plantain, which is shaped like the heart of an animal and of a reddish-brown color. This he put ready. He then milked some milk into a pot and put that near; he next drew a pot of blood from the cow and put that also ready. When all his preparations were made he waited.

  After a time the lioness came and cried, “Whose, whose?”

  Wakasanke answered, “Mine, mine,” and took the pot of blood and dashed it on the lioness’s breast and said, “I have killed you, is not this your blood?” He struck the lioness with the flower, shouting, “Is not that your heart? I have killed you. I have killed you.” He then took the pot of milk and dashed it with all his force upon the lioness’s head, saying, “Let me crush in your head and brains and finish you off.”

  In this way he so terrified the lioness that she thought it was her blood, and she rushed away leaving the cow in peace.

  Thus Wakasanke birds have lived about cows, and every herdsman when he goes to milk his cow, first milks a little on the ground to commemorate the action of the Wakasanke bird. From that time whenever a lion meets a cow the lion tries to kill it.

  Why the Hippopotamus Lives in the Water

  A long time ago the hippopotamus, whose name was Isantim, was one of the biggest kings on the land. He was second only to the elephant. The hippo had seven large, fat female servants, of whom he was very fond. One of them he called his wife.

  Now and then he used to give a big feast to the people; but a curious thing was that, although every one knew the hippo, no one, except his wife and servants, knew his name.

  At one of the feasts, just as the people were about to sit down, the hippo said:

  “You have come to feed at my table, but none of you know my name. If you cannot tell my name, you shall all of you go away without your dinner.”

  As they could not guess his name, they had to go away and leave all the good food behind them. But before they left, the tortoise arose and asked the hippopotamus what he would do if some one told him his name at the next feast?

  The hippo said that he would be so ashamed of himself that he and his whole family would leave the land and for the future would dwell in the water.

  Now it was the custom for the hippo and his wife and servants to go down every morning and evening to the river to wash and drink. The tortoise knew this was their custom. The hippo used to walk first, and the wife and servants followed.

  One day when they had gone down to the river to bathe, the tortoise made a small hole in the middle of the path, and there waited. When the hippo and his companions returned, one of them and his wife were some distance behind. The tortoise came out from where he had been hiding, and half buried himself in the hole he had dug, leaving the larger part of his shell outside.

  The party at the stream

  When the two companions came along, the wife knocked her foot against the tortoise’s shell, and immediately called out to her husband, “Oh! Isantim, my husband, I have hurt my foot.”

  At this the tortoise was very glad, and went joyfully home, as he had found out the hippo’s name.

  When the next feast was given by the hippo, he made the same condition about his name; so the tortoise got up and said, “You promise you will not harm me if I tell you your name?” and the hippo promised.

  The tortoise then shouted as loud as he was able, “Your name is Isantim,” at which a cheer went up from all the people, and then they sat down to their dinner.

  When the feast was over, the hippo, with his wife and servants, in accordance with his promise went down to the river, and they have always lived in the water from that day till now; and although they come on shore to feed at night, you never find a hippo on the land in the daytime.

  For Children

  There is no wealth without children.

  It is the duty of children to wait on elders, not elders on children.

  If you love the children of others you will love your own even better.

  Distress carries off him whose mother is no more.

  Bowing to a dwarf will not prevent your standing erect again.

  “I have forgotten your name” is better than “I know thee not.”

  Why the Bush Fowl Calls up the Dawn

  A man once went into the bush with his wife to collect palm nuts. He saw a palm with ripe clusters upon it, and climbed it to get them. While he was trying to cut through the stems, a black fly began to buzz round him, dash into his eyes, against his nose, and all over his face. He lifted his hand to drive it away, and as he did so he dropped the knife.

  “Run, run,” he called to his wife, who was just beneath the tree, for he feared that it might fall upon her. She sprang aside so quickly that she was out of the way before the knife reached the ground.

  In her haste she jumped over a serpent. This startled it so that it dived down a brown rat’s hole, and begged for a drink of water. The rat handed the serpent a calabash full, and the
serpent drank it all at once. The rat was so frightened at such a thing that it sprang past the serpent out of the hole and ran up a tree, where it sat trembling. The place where the rat had stopped was near a plantain-eater’s nest. No sooner did the latter see the rat than it raised a cry. This startled a monkey, which rushed forth ready for a fight.

  In his haste to meet his enemy, the monkey sprang on to a ripe fruit of the tree called Ntun. This fell from its stalk onto the back of an elephant which was passing beneath. The animal rushed away in such terror, that it tore down and carried off a flowering creeper which caught round his neck.

  The creeper in turn pulled over an ant hill, which fell on the bush fowl’s nest, and broke its eggs.

  The bush fowl was so sad because of the loss, that it sat brooding over the crushed eggs, and forgot to call the dawn. For two days, therefore, the whole world was in darkness.

  All the beasts wondered what could be the reason of this continued night, and at length Obassi called them before him to find out the cause.

  When all were present Obassi asked the bush fowl why it was now forty-eight hours since it had called for light. Then the bush fowl stood forth and answered:

  “My eggs were broken by the ant hill, which was pulled over by the creeper, which was dragged down by the elephant, which was knocked over by the Ntun fruit, which was plucked by the monkey, which was frightened by the plantain-eater, which was startled by the rat, which was scared by the serpent, which had been jumped over by a sick woman, who had been made to run by the fall of a knife, which had been dropped by her husband, who had been bitten by a black fly. Angry, therefore, on account of the loss of the eggs, I refused to call the day.”

  Each was asked in turn to give the reason for the damage it had done, and each in turn gave the same long answer, till it came to the turn of the black fly, the first cause of all the mischief. Instead of answering properly, as the others had done, the black fly only said, “Buzz, buzz.” So Obassi commanded the fly to remain speechless forevermore, and to do nothing but buzz about and be present wherever a rotten thing lies.

  To the bush fowl he said that at once it should call the long-delayed dawn, and never again refuse to do so, whether its eggs were broken or not. Day must dawn.

  Why the Cat Catches Rats

  Ansa was king of Calabar for fifty years. He had a very faithful cat as a housekeeper and a rat as his house-boy. The king was an obstinate, headstrong man; but he was very fond of the cat, for she had been in his store for many years.

  The rat fell in love with one of the king’s servant girls; but he was poor and could not give her any presents. What, then, would he do?

  At last he thought of the king’s store. In the night-time, as he was quite small, he had little difficulty in getting into the store through a hole he had made in the roof. He then stole corn and native pears, and gave them to the girl he loved.

  The Cat and the Rat

  At the end of the month, when the cat had to give the king her account of the things in the store, it was found that some corn and native pears were not there. The king was very angry at this, and asked the cat how this happened. But the cat could not explain the loss, until one of her friends told her that the rat had been taking the corn and giving it to the girl.

  When the cat told the king, he called the girl before him and had her whipped. He turned the rat over to the cat to be pun-ished and he then drove both of them from his home. The cat was so angry at this that she killed and ate the rat. Ever since then whenever a cat sees a rat she tries to kill and eat it.

  The Cat catches the Rat.

  Thoughts About Animals

  When the rat laughs at the cat, there is a hole. The rat has not power to call the cat to account.

  The rat does not go to sleep in the cat’s bed.

  If the dog is not at home he barks not. A heedless dog will not do for the chase.

  A lurking dog does not lie in the hyena’s lair.

  He who cannot move an ant, and yet tries to move an elephant, shall find out his folly. The elephant does not find his trunk heavy.

  If there were no elephant in the jungle the buffalo would be a great animal.

  The butterfly that brushes against thorns will tear its wings.

  If the fly flies, the frog goes not supperless to bed.

  When the fox dies fowls do not mourn.

  When the goat goes abroad, the sheep must run.

  He who goes with a wolf will learn to howl.

  The Crocodile’s Relatives

  A long time ago the crocodile became very old and died. News of his death was carried from one to another until all the beasts of the forests knew it.

  After his funeral, the animals thought of dividing his property. At once a quarrel arose. The property belonged to the crocodile’s nearest relatives, but too many animals said they were his kin and asked for their part of the property.

  The birds said, “He was our kin and we shall divide the property.”

  Others said, no, and asked, “On what ground do you claim to be kin to the crocodile? You wear feathers; you do not wear plates of armor as he does.”

  The birds replied, “True enough, he did not wear our feathers; but, you are not to judge by what he had on in his life. Judge by what he was in the beginning of his life. Look you! In his beginning, he began life as an egg. We believe in eggs. His mother bore him as an egg. He is our relative, and we should have his property.”

  But the beasts said, “It shall not be so! We are his relatives. We shall have his property divided.”

  The Crocodile

  To settle the quarrel it was necessary for the animals to hold a council. The council of animals then asked the beasts why they said that they were relatives of the crocodile, and what they had to say about the crocodile’s egg origin.

  The beasts responded:

  “It may be true that the mark of tribe must be found, in a beginning; but it is not in an egg, for all beings began as eggs. Life is the original beginning. Look you! When life really begins in the egg, then the mark of tribe is shown. When the crocodile’s life began, he had four legs as we have. We judge by legs. So we claim him as our relative. And we shall take his property.”

  But the birds answered:

  “You beasts said we were not his relatives, because we wear feathers, and not crocodile plates. But, you, look you! Judge by our own words. Neither do you wear crocodile plates, you with your hair and fur! Your words are not correct. The beginning of his life was not, as you say, when the little crocodile sprouted some legs. There was life in the egg before that. And his egg was like ours, not like what you call your eggs. You are not his relatives. He is ours.”

  But the beasts disputed still. The quarrel went back and forth. And they never settled it.

  The Reward for Honesty

  There were four beasts living in a town, the civet, the tortoise, the antelope, and the genet. Their four houses opened on one long street. They were all neighbors.

  One day in the afternoon when they all were in that street, sitting down talking, the tortoise said to them, “I have here a word to say to you.”

  They replied, “Well! Speak!”

  At that time their town had a great famine.

  The tortoise, then, said, “Tomorrow, we will go to seek food.”

  They replied, “Good! just as soon as the day breaks.”

  Then they scattered and went to their houses to lie down to sleep for the night. Soon, the day broke. And they all arose, and were ready by sunrise to go in search of food.

  They searched as they walked a distance of several miles. Then they came to a plantation of Njambo’s wife, Ivenga. It was about one hour’s walk from Njambo’s town.

  The plantation had a great deal of sugarcane, yams, and cassava. It had also some sweet potatoes. There also the chickens of Njambo often went to scratch for worms among the plants.

  At once, the civet exclaimed, “I’ll go no farther! I like to eat sugar-cane!”


  He went, then, to the plot of cane.

  The antelope also said, “I too! I’ll not go any farther. I like to eat leaves of the potato and cassava.”

  So he went to the plot of cassava.

  They were All Neighbors.

  And the genet said, “Yes! I see chickens here! I like to eat chickens! I’ll go no farther!”

  And he went after the chickens.

  But first the three had asked the tortoise, “Kudu! what will you do? Have you nothing to eat?”

  The tortoise answered, “I have nothing to eat. But I shall await you even two days, and will not complain.”

  So the civet remarked, “Yes! I will not soon leave here, till I eat up all this cane. Then I will go back to town.”

  The antelope also said, “Yes! I will remain here with the potato leaves till I finish them, before I go back.”

  The genet also said, “Yes! I see many chickens here. I will stay and finish them.”

  The tortoise only said, “I have nothing to say.”

  In that plantation was a large tree; and the tortoise went to lie down at its foot.

  They were all there four days, eating and eating. On the fifth day, Njambo’s wife, Ivenga, in the town said to herself, “I’ll go today, and see how my plantation is.”

  She came to the plantation, and when she saw the condition in which it was, she cried out and began to weep. She saw that but little cane was left, and not many potatoes. When she looked in another part of the plantation, she saw many feathers of chickens lying around. Her chickens had been killed.