After some time Diminga visited her home, taking with her servants, carrying cases of clothes, food and money for her family. They welcomed her warmly, especially when they saw her gifts. And her father was glad that his daughter’s troubles were now finished.
But her stepmother was full of envy and began planning once more to get the better of Diminga. Thus it happened that, when Diminga was sitting with her family, her one-eyed stepsister came to her with a needle in her hands, saying, ‘Let me find lice in your hair, sister.’
‘I have no lice,’ said Diminga.
But her stepmother insisted and the girl began her search. Then suddenly, she drove the needle into Diminga’s head. Diminga jerked, and was transformed into a bird, which flew away.
The old woman dressed her daughter in Diminga’s clothes and veiled her face. She told Diminga’s servants that their mistress was sick. They took ‘Diminga’ home, and told their master of his wife’s illness. Whenever he tried to remove the veil, his ‘wife’ said, ‘You must leave it for I am not well.’
One day his servant Guao went to the river to wash clothes and saw a small, bright beautiful bird perched on a tree. It began to sing:
Guao, Guao, Guao
Is Manuel at home
With one eyed-wife
This terrible one-eyed wife?
Guao listened, enchanted by the music and his curiosity was aroused. Each day he saw the little bird and heard the song, then finally he took his master to witness the strange event. The master trapped the bird and took it home, where he made a pet of it. Whenever he touched the bird’s head, he noticed, it trembled. He looked closely and saw a needle. When he pulled out the needle the bird was transformed into a beautiful girl – Diminga, his wife.
When Diminga told him of her sufferings her husband ran and unveiled the ‘sick wife’ – and shot her. He ordered his servants to cut the body into pieces, which were dried then mixed with rice and put into bags. The bags of food were sent to Diminga’s stepmother with the message, ‘Diminga has arrived safely and sends you this gift.’
The old woman was satisfied to hear the news and shared the food amongst her family. It was only when she looked into the last bag of meat that she realised that she had been truly punished. Inside the bag was a human head, with its one eye fixed upon her in a terrible gaze.
PART ELEVEN
MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS
ACHOL AND HER WILD MOTHER
(SUDAN: DINKA)
chol, Lanchichor (The Blind Beast) and Adhalchingeeny (The Exceedingly Brave One) were living with their mother. Their mother would go to fetch firewood. She gathered many pieces of wood and then put her hands behind her back and said, ‘O dear, who will help me lift this heavy load?’
A lion came passing by and said, ‘If I help you lift the load, what will you give me?’
‘I will give you one hand,’ she said.
She gave him a hand; he helped her lift the load and she went home. Her daughter, Achol, said, ‘Mother, why is your hand like that?’
‘My daughter, it is nothing,’ she answered.
Then she left again to fetch firewood. She gathered many pieces of wood and then put her hand behind her back and said, ‘O dear, who will now help me lift this heavy load?’
The lion came and said, ‘If I help you lift the load, what will you give me?’
‘I will give you my other hand!’ And she gave him the other hand. He lifted the load on to her head and she went home without a hand.
Her daughter saw her and said, ‘Mother, what has happened to your hands? You should not go to fetch firewood again! You must stop!’
But she insisted that there was nothing wrong and went to fetch firewood. Again she collected many pieces of firewood, put her arms behind her back and said, ‘Who will now help me lift this heavy load?’
Again the lion came and said, ‘If I help you lift the load, what will you give me?’
She said, ‘I will give you one foot!’
She gave him her foot; he helped her, and she went home.
Her daughter said, ‘Mother, this time, I insist that you do not go for the firewood! Why is all this happening? Why are your hands and your foot like this?’
‘My daughter, it is nothing to worry about,’ she said. ‘It is my nature.’
She went back to the forest another time and collected many pieces of firewood. Then she put her arms behind her back and said, ‘Who will now help me lift this load?’
The lion came and said, ‘What will you now give me?’
She said, ‘I will give you my other foot!’
So she gave him the other foot; he helped her, and she went home.
This time she became wild and turned into a lioness. She would not eat cooked meat; she would only have raw meat.
Achol’s brothers went to the cattle camp with their mother’s relatives. So only Achol remained at home with her mother. When her mother turned wild, she went into the forest, leaving Achol alone. She would only return for a short time in the evening to look for food. Achol would prepare something for her and put it on the platform in the courtyard. Her mother would come at night and sing in a dialogue with Achol.
‘Achol, Achol, where is your father?’
‘My father is still in the cattle camp!’
‘And where is Lanchichor?’
‘Lanchichor is still in the cattle camp!’
‘And where is Adhalchingeeny?’
‘Adhalchingeeny is still in the cattle camp!’
‘And where is the food?’
‘Mother, scrape the insides of our ancient gourds.’
She would eat and leave. The following night, she would return and sing. Achol would reply; her mother would eat and return to the forest. This went on for a long time.
Meanwhile, Lanchichor came from the cattle camp to visit his mother and sister. When he arrived home, he found his mother absent. He also found a large pot over the cooking fire. He wondered about these things and asked Achol, ‘Where is Mother gone, and why are you cooking in such a big pot?’
She replied, ‘I am cooking in this big pot because our mother has turned wild and is in the forest, but she comes at night for food.’
‘Take that pot off the fire,’ he said.
‘I cannot,’ she replied. ‘I must cook for her.’
He let her. She cooked and put the food on the platform before they went to bed. Their mother came at night and sang. Achol replied as usual. Her mother ate and left. Achol’s brother got very frightened. He emptied his bowels and left the next morning.
When he was asked in the cattle camp about the people at home, he was too embarrassed to tell the truth; so he said they were well.
Then Achol’s father decided to come home to visit his wife and his daughter. He found the big pot on the fire and his wife away. When he asked Achol, she explained everything to him. He also told her to take the pot off the fire, but she would not. She put the food on the platform, and they went to bed. Achol’s father told her to let him take care of the situation. Achol agreed. Her mother came and sang as usual. Achol replied. Then her mother ate. But her father was so frightened that he returned to the camp.
Then came Adhalchingeeny (The Exceedingly Brave One) and brought with him a very strong rope. He came and found Achol cooking with the large pot, and when Achol explained to him their mother’s condition, he told her to take the pot off the fire, but she would not give in. He let her proceed with her usual plan. He placed the rope near the food in a way that would trap his mother when she took the food. He tied the other end to his foot.
Their mother came and sang as usual. Achol replied. As their mother went towards the food, Adhalchingeeny pulled the rope, gagged her and tied her to a pole. He then went and beat her with part of the heavy rope. He beat her and beat her and beat her. Then he gave her a piece of raw meat, and when she ate it, he beat her again. He beat her and beat her and beat her. Then he gave her two pieces of meat, one raw and one roasted. She refused the
raw one and took the roasted one, saying, ‘My son, I have now become human, so please stop beating me.’
They then reunited and lived happily.
TUNJUR, TUNJUR
(PALESTINIAN ARAB)
TELLER: Testify that God is One!
AUDIENCE: There is no god but God.
here was once a woman who could not get pregnant and have children. Once upon a day she had an urge; she wanted babies. ‘O Lord!’ she cried out, ‘why of all women am I like this? Would that I could get pregnant and have a baby, and may Allah grant me a girl even if she is only a cooking pot!’
One day she became pregnant. A day came and a day went, and behold! she was ready to deliver. She went into labour and delivered, giving birth to a cooking pot. What was the poor woman to do? She washed it, cleaning it well, put the lid on it, and placed it on the shelf.
One day the pot started to talk. ‘Mother,’ she said, take me down from this shelf!’
‘Alas, daughter!’ replied the mother, ‘where am I going to put you?’
‘What do you care?’ said the daughter. ‘Just bring me down, and I will make you rich for generations to come.’
The mother brought her down. ‘Now put my lid on,’ said the pot, ‘and leave me outside the door.’ Putting the lid on, the mother took her outside the door.
The pot started to roll, singing as she went, ‘Tunjur, tunjur, clink, clink, O my mama!’ She rolled until she came to a place where people usually gather. In a while people were passing by. A man came and found the pot all settled in its place. Eh!’ he exclaimed, ‘who has put this pot in the middle of the path? I’ll be damned! What a beautiful pot! It’s probably made of silver. He looked it over well. ‘Hey, people!’ he called, ‘whose pot is this. Who put it here?’ No one claimed it. ‘By Allah,’ he said, ‘I’m going to take it home with me.’
On his way home, he went by the honey vendor. He had the pot filled with honey and brought it home to his wife. ‘Look, wife,’ he said, ‘how beautiful is this pot!’ The whole family was greatly pleased with it.
In two or three days they had guests, and they wanted to offer them some honey. The woman of the house brought the pot down from the shelf. Push and pull on the lid, but the pot would not open! She called her husband over. Pull and push, but open it he could not. His guests pitched in. Lifting the pot and dropping it, the man tried to break it open with hammer and chisel. He tried everything, but it was no use.
They sent for the blacksmith, and he tried and tried, to no avail. What was the man to do?
‘Damn your owners!’ he cursed the pot. ‘Did you think you were going to make us wealthy?’ And, taking it up, he threw it out the window.
When they turned their back and could no longer see it, she started to roll, saying as she went.
‘Tunjur, tunjur, O my mama.
In my mouth I brought the honey.
Clink, clink, O my mama.
In my mouth I brought the honey.’
‘Bring me up the stairs!’ she said to her mother when she reached home.
‘Yee!’ exclaimed the mother. ‘I thought you had disappeared, that someone had taken you.’
‘Pick me up!’ said the daughter.
Picking her up, my little darlings, the mother took the lid off and found the pot full of honey. Oh! How pleased she was!
‘Empty me!’ said the pot.
The mother emptied the honey into a jar, and put the pot back on the shelf.
‘Mother,’ said the daughter the next day, ‘take me down!’
The mother brought her down from the shelf.
‘Mother, put me outside the door!’
The mother placed her outside the door, and she start rolling – tunjur, tunjur, clink, clink – until she reached a place where people were gathered, and then she stopped. A man passing by found her.
‘Eh!’ he thought. ‘what kind of a pot is this?’ He looked it over. How beautiful he found it! ‘To whom does this belong?’ he asked. ‘Hey, people! Who are the owners of this pot?’ He waited, but no one said, ‘It’s mine.’ Then he said, ‘By Allah, I’m going to take it.’
He took it, and on his way home stopped by the butcher and had it filled with meat. Bringing it home to his wife, he said, ‘Look, wife, how beautiful is this pot I’ve found! By Allah, I found it so pleasing I bought meat and filled it and brought it home.’
‘Yee!’ they all cheered, ‘how lucky we are! What a beautiful pot!’ They put it away.
Towards evening they wanted to cook the meat. Push and pull on the pot, it would not open! What was the woman to do? She called her husband over and her children. Lift, drop, strike – no use. They took it to the blacksmith, but with no result.
The husband became angry. ‘God damn your owners!’ he cursed it. ‘What in the world are you?’ And he threw it as far as his arm would reach.
As soon as he turned his back, she started rolling, and singing:
‘Tunjur, tunjur, O my mama,
In my mouth I brought the meat.
Tunjur, tunjur, O my mama,
In my mouth I brought the meat.’
She kept repeating that till she reached home.
‘Lift me up!’ she said to her mother. The mother lifted her up, took the meat, washed the pot, and put it away on the shelf.
‘Bring me out of the house!’ said the daughter the next day. The mother brought her out, and she said, ‘Tunjur, tunjur, clink, clink’ as she was rolling until she reached a spot close by the king’s house, where she came to a stop. In the morning, it is said, the son of the king was on his way out, and behold! there was the pot settled in its place.
‘Eh! What’s this? Whose pot is it?’ No one answered. ‘By Allah,’ he said, ‘I’m going to take it.’ He took it inside and called his wife over.
‘Wife,’ he said, ‘take this pot! I brought it home for you. It’s the most beautiful pot!’
The wife took the pot. ‘Yee! How beautiful it is! By Allah, I’m going to put my jewellery in it.’ Taking the pot with her, she gathered all her jewellery, even that which she was wearing, and put it in the pot. She also brought all their gold and money and stuffed them in the pot till it was full to the brim, then she covered it and put it away in the wardrobe.
Two or three days went by, and it was time for the wedding of her brother. She put on her velvet dress and brought the pot out so that she could wear her jewellery. Push and pull, but the pot would not open. She called to her husband, and he could not open it either. All the people who were there tried to open it, lifting and dropping. They took it to the blacksmith, and he tried but could not open it.
The husband felt defeated, ‘God damn your owners!’ he cursed it, what use are you to us?’ Taking it up, he threw it out the window. Of course he was not all that anxious to let it go, so he went to catch it from the side of the house. No sooner did he turn around than she started to run:
‘Tunjur, tunjur, O my mama,
In my mouth I brought the treasure.
Tunjur, tunjur, O my mama.
In my mouth I brought this treasure.’
‘Lift me up!’ she said to her mother when she reached home. Lifting her up, the mother removed the lid.
‘Yee! May your reputation be blackened!’ she cried out. ‘Wherever did you get this? What in the world is it?’ The mother was now rich. She became very, very happy.
‘It’s enough now,’ she said to her daughter, taking away the treasure. ‘You shouldn’t go out any more. People will recognise you.’
‘No, no!’ begged the daughter. ‘Let me go out just one last time.’
The next day, my darlings, she went out, saying ‘Tunjur, tunjur, O my mama.’ The man who found her the first time saw her again.
‘Eh! What in the world is this thing?’ he exclaimed. ‘It must have some magic in it, since it’s always tricking people. God damn its owners! By Allah the Great, I’m going to sit and shit in it.’ He went ahead, my darlings, and shat right in it. Closing the lid on him, she
rolled along:
‘Tunjur, tunjur, O my mama,
In my mouth I brought the caca.
Tunjur, tunjur, O my mama,
In my mouth I brought the caca.’
‘Lift me up!’ she said to her mother when she reached home. The mother lifted her up.
‘You naughty thing, you!’ said the mother. ‘I told you not to go out again, that people would recognise you. Don’t you think it’s enough now?’
The mother then washed the pot with soap, put perfume on it, and placed it on the shelf.
This is my story, I’ve told it, and in your hands I leave it.
THE LITTLE OLD WOMAN WITH FIVE COWS
(YAKUT)
ne morning a little old woman got up and went to the field containing her five cows. She took from the earth a herb with five sprouts and, without breaking either root or branch, carried it home and wrapped it in a blanket and placed it on her pillow.
Then she went out again and sat down to milk her cows. Suddenly she heard tambourine bells jingle and scissors fall, on account of which noise she upset the milk. Having run home and looked, she found that the plant was uninjured. Again she issued forth to milk the cows, and again thought she heard the tambourine bells jingle and scissors fall, and once more she spilt her milk. Returning to the house, she looked into the bedchamber. There sat a maiden with eyes of chalcedony and lips of dark stone, with a face of light-coloured stone and with eyebrows like two dark sables stretching their forefeet towards each other; her body was visible through her dress; her bones were visible through her body; her nerves spreading this way and that, like mercury, were visible through her bones. The plant had become this maiden of indescribable beauty.
Soon afterwards Kharjit-Bergen, son of the meritorious Khan Kara, went into the dark forest. He saw a grey squirrel sitting on a curved twig, near the house of the little old woman with five cows, and he began to shoot, but as the light was bad, for the sun was already setting, he did not at once succeed in his purpose. At this time one of his arrows fell into the chimney.
Angela Carter's Book Of Fairy Tales Page 35