African Folk Tales

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African Folk Tales Page 6

by Yoti Lane


  “What are you doing with that?” she asked. “You don’t have to hunt for your own food yet.”

  “It’s not for food,” said the little boy. “I want it to keep.”

  “But who wants to keep an animal?” the mother asked. “You’ll have to feed it and food is scarce.”

  “I know,” said the boy. “But I’ll give it some of mine. I have no brothers or sisters to share with.”

  Because the mother was fond of the child she argued no more, but let him keep the puppy. The puppy was very happy, because he had more food and was more comfortable than he had ever been before. He shared the boy’s meals, and slept beside him at night.

  In the meanwhile the mother dog missed the puppy, and was very angry. Man was her enemy, and she could smell his scent round the litter, and she was sure her child had been taken away, and eaten, so she resolved to have her revenge, and set off to trail the robber.

  She travelled for a long time before she caught up with the people, who had now settled in a new spot. She came to their village one afternoon when everyone was resting, and was amazed to see her son asleep under a tree in the arms of a child. She was about to attack the child when fortunately her son smelled her scent, and came gambolling over to her. With a soft snarl the mother picked him up by the scruff of the neck, and dragged him into the bush, where she set him down.

  “At last I have found you, and rescued you, my poor child,” she panted.

  “You haven’t rescued me,” yapped the puppy. “I was very well looked after, and I was having a fine time. I live as well as man, and he lives much better than we do.”

  “My poor, foolish child,” said the mother, “don’t you know that man is our enemy.”

  “I don’t believe it,” said the puppy. “Everyone was very kind to me.”

  “Be sensible,” snapped the mother. “They were only fattening you up so they could kill, and eat you.”

  “I don’t believe it,” said the puppy. “The child loved me.”

  “You don’t know what you are talking about,” said the mother. “I am very displeased with you. Come along home now, and don’t think of these foolish notions any more.”

  The puppy opened his mouth to protest, but she picked him up by the scruff of the neck again, which made it impossible for him to talk, and off she loped back to the litter.

  Days passed but the puppy didn’t feel happy. He missed the food, and he missed the little boy, and he was no longer a special person, he was just one of a litter, and he didn’t like it. Days lengthened into weeks, and the puppy grew big, and strong, but still he didn’t forget the happy time he had spent with man. So one night he slipped away again, set his nose to the trail, and started back in search of the village.

  So eager was he to get there that he did something no wild animal ever does, but which dogs do to this day. He didn’t stop for food, or drink, or rest, so early next morning he arrived at the village, tired, and thirsty and hungry.

  The little boy who had missed the puppy very much was playing by himself outside his house. Suddenly he heard yells from the people around, and looked up to see an animal streaking towards him. “Run, run, you’ll be killed,” shouted the villagers, but the next moment the animal had reached the little boy, and instead of attacking him, it jumped up, and licked him, wagging its tail frantically.

  “It’s my pup,” shrieked the little boy. “He’s come back!” and he threw his arms round the creature’s neck, and hugged it. The villagers were amazed at this, for they were afraid of the puppy now that it had grown, but the little boy gave the animal water and food and then they curled up together and went to sleep.

  Back in the bush the mother dog missed her son, and decided to follow him, and this time she brought the rest of the litter with her because they were big enough to walk. So they all put their noses on the trail of their brother, and away they went. The mother was so angry and anxious to get her son back that they also went steadily on, pausing for nothing until they reached the edge of the village.

  There they saw their brother playing with the little boy. The boy was throwing a stick, and the puppy was fetching it back to him to throw again, and they were both enjoying the game.

  “Oh look at your poor, foolish brother,” whined the mother. “Look at him playing tricks.”

  The pups all looked, and the eldest said, “I don’t see that it’s so foolish, I think it’s fun.”

  “It won’t be fun when he’s killed and eaten,” growled the mother.

  Just then a man came in with a carcass which he proceeded to cut up, and as he cut he threw bits to the pup.

  “Just look at that,” said his brother watching enviously. “It doesn’t look as if he’s going to be killed, and eaten!”

  “Don’t be foolish,” cried the mother. “Hasn’t man always been our enemy.”

  “Well, he’s not our brother’s enemy,” said the eldest pup. “I wish we were with him.”

  The mother was so annoyed she cuffed her son, and knocked him down.

  “Don’t contradict your mother,” she snarled.

  Just then the pup wandered away from the boy, and came towards his family. When he saw them he was delighted, and ran up to sniff them.

  “Welcome, brothers,” he yelped. “You must come, and meet my friends.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” cried the mother. “Your brothers are not going to be foolish like you. Come on home at once.”

  But the pup was too big to take orders now, and he refused.

  “I’m not going,” he told her. “Man is my friend, and I have a far better life than I had in the bush. I’m staying here.”

  At this the anxious mother broke into a wild protest.

  “All right,” she cried, “but don’t dare to come back to us when man turns against you. Come, my children, let us go.”

  Now the others didn’t want to go, but they were afraid, so they followed their mother, leaving the pup behind.

  The pup trotted back, and started to play again. He was sorry to lose his family, but he felt he really belonged to the boy who had brought him up. So he stayed in the village, and grew bigger, and soon he began to go out hunting with the men, and the boy came along too. When the dog killed an animal or a bird he brought it to the boy, because he knew he’d get a share.

  When the pup grew into a big dog he was out one day when he met a young wild dog, and stopped to talk to her. By this time a good many wild dogs knew about their extraordinary brother who lived with man, so the young dog began to question him about it.

  He told her of his life, and suggested that she should come to the village and see for herself. Afraid, but greatly daring, she went there with him. She was too shy and frightened to be friendly at first, but the dog shared his food with her, and she soon came every day. In the end she became the wife of the dog, and when she had puppies of her own the dog brought the boy to see them.

  As soon as the puppies could walk they staggered after their father into the village. At first the mother was frightened, and took them back, one by one, by the scruff of the neck, but as soon as they got free they toddled off to the village once more, until in the end she had to let them be, and came and lived there herself.

  Now these puppies in turn grew up, and became attached to owners, and went hunting. Strangers passing through the village marvelled at this, and they too began to take wild puppies from litters and bring them into the villages.

  Gradually the puppies who grew up with man began to change their dispositions as well as their habits. They were friendly with their owners, and not with others. They hunted wild animals, or chased them if they came near the villages. In fact they began to change into the kind of dogs we know today. If they got lost they became very unhappy until they found their owners again.

  As time passed these tame dogs changed in appearance also, and no longer resembled jackals or hyenas.

  Now every village, not only in Africa, but all over the world has its dogs.

&n
bsp; But the wild dogs didn’t change, they remained the same. They are surly, evil tempered creatures, who don’t like other animals very much, and don’t like each other either.

  THE BOY AND THE GENII

  THE FARMER HASSAN, had an only child who was a very spoiled boy. He was never willing to do what he was told. If anyone asked him to do anything, he always asked, “Why?” and if the reason given didn’t satisfy him, he simply didn’t do as he was asked. It was intelligent, of course, to want to know why things should be done, but it wasn’t very clever to assume that other people didn’t have very good reasons for what they did.

  It was the custom in the village to stay at home on certain days, and to go and work on the farm land on others, leaving the village empty. One day when Hassan and his wife were going off to the farm, the boy said he didn’t feel like going and he wanted to stay at home.

  “But you can’t stay in the village today,” the father told him.

  “Why not?” asked the boy. “What’s different about today?”

  “I don’t want to go into that,” said the father. “You will just have to take my word for it for once, and come along with us.”

  “If you stay here today there will be no proper food for you until we come home this evening,” the mother pointed out.

  “I don’t care, any scraps will do for me,” the boy replied. “But unless you can give me some very good reason for going to the farm today I shall stay at home.”

  The mother and father looked at each other anxiously. They didn’t want to tell the boy that on certain days, and this was one of them, the genii visited the village, and spent the day there. They would tap the palm wine, and sing and dance, and do no real harm, but they would become annoyed if any human saw them. Parents never told their children about this because they were afraid that the little ones would become curious and creep back to watch the genii and get themselves into trouble.

  “I want you to come to the farm with us today,” the boy’s father said seriously. “There is much work to be done!”

  “I’ll come tomorrow and work,” the boy replied obstinately, for he sensed that there was some secret he didn’t know. “But I’ll stay at home today.”

  The father and mother looked at him helplessly.

  “If you will stay at home, then I’ll have to lock you in the house,” the mother informed him. “The village will be deserted, anyone might come along, and you wouldn’t be safe here alone.”

  “That’s right,” the father joined in. “We can’t leave you to wander about alone. If you stay we’ll have to lock you in, so I think you will agree that it would be a lot more pleasant to come to the farm with us.”

  Now the boy didn’t like the idea of being left alone, it made him a little afraid, but by now he wouldn’t give in, so he replied airily.

  “Lock me up if you wish, but I’m not going to the farm today.”

  So the parents left scraps of food and a jar of water with him, and prepared to depart.

  “Remember one thing,” said his father, “if you hear any unusual noises just remain quiet. Don’t call out.”

  The boy only smiled, and the parents went away in a very worried frame of mind. They would have preferred to stay with their foolish child, but they knew if they did that the genii might become spiteful, and do something to upset the whole village.

  After they had gone the village became very quiet and lonely, and the boy regretted his decision. There was nothing he could do in the house, and after a while he lay down to pass the time in sleep.

  He had been asleep a short time when he was awakened by the sound of singing, and laughing, although he did not recognise the voices. It was still far too early for the return of the villagers.

  Then the boy heard footsteps, light footsteps, and then he heard some people swarming up the palm trees, and the “tap, tap, tap,” of someone tapping the palm wine.

  “Ho,” he cried out. “Who is tapping the wine?”

  Immediately there was dead silence followed by a confused outburst.

  “Who called?” asked a voice, but the boy didn’t reply. The strangers couldn’t see him, and the boy thought he would have some fun with them.

  “There can be no one here, it must have been some bird calling,” another voice replied.

  “I thought it sounded like a boy,” someone else said.

  “Nonsense, who would have the audacity to stay here on our day,” the other voice replied, and after a second or two the tapping began again.

  “Who taps the palm wine?” the boy sang again. Once more there was silence, and then a louder outburst.

  “There is someone!”

  “The impudence, let us search every house!”

  Immediately there was a sound of many footsteps going in various directions, as doors were tried. The boy, now a little alarmed, remained quite still, telling himself that he was quite safe from the visitors, whoever they were, as the door was locked.

  Finally someone tried the door.

  “This door is locked,” said a voice.

  “Command it to open,” said another.

  “Open door,” said the first voice, and to his amazement the boy saw the door open all by itself, and a little man came in. He was a very light brown, and he had queer, light eyes.

  “So there you are, impudent one,” he cried out when he saw the boy. “Come out here,” and he dragged the boy out of the house.

  The boy blinked in surprise. He found himself surrounded by a large crowd of little people whom he had never seen before, some dressed in the most remarkable, and colourful garments. One of them wore an enormous turban on his head and carried a tall stick.

  “Come here,” he commanded. Nervously the boy went forward.

  “What do you mean by remaining in the village today? Are you ill?”

  “No,” the boy replied boldly. “But it’s my home, and why should I leave it today?”

  “Because on this day the village is ours, and you have no right to remain. Why were you allowed to remain?”

  “I wasn’t. I simply refused to go with my father, so he locked me up,” the boy replied. “Who are you?”

  “That’s no business of yours, mind your manners,” was the answer, and then another man stepped forward.

  “Your Highness, this is a most impudent youth. He has broken the law, and he should be severely punished.”

  “He shall be punished,” snapped the man in the turban. “Tie him up. I’ll decide what to do with him later!”

  Before the boy could protest he found himself tied to a tree. Then his captors seemed to forget all about him. They busied themselves collecting palm wine, which they proceeded to drink, and then they made merry, dancing, singing, and performing the most remarkable conjuring tricks the boy had ever seen. He was so enthralled that he forgot to be scared. It was all so fascinating that the boy didn’t realise how much time had passed until he saw a man hurry to speak to the chief of these peculiar people.

  “Highness,” the man panted. “Two people approach the village, and it wants an hour to sunset. They are breaking the rules. Shall we capture them?”

  The chief looked very annoyed.

  “What is the world coming to; more people breaking the rules. Certainly capture them, and bring them to me.”

  The little man scurried away and a few minutes later the boy was horrified to see his father and mother being led in by a group of men who looked like soldiers. They cast his parents down on the ground before the chief.

  “What do you mean by coming here? You know you are breaking the rules,” the chief said angrily.

  “Master,” said the father. “We beg for mercy, we are the parents of this unhappy boy. We feared for his safety and came back early.”

  “You should never have left him here,” the chief said coldly.

  “We could not drag him by force, and he would not come of his own free will,” the father cried.

  “Then you have brought him up badly, and it is time
he was taught a lesson in obedience. We shall take him with us, and he’ll soon learn.”

  At this the boy’s mother wailed loudly.

  “Oh, no, Highness,” she implored. “He is but a foolish child. Spare him to us, and I’m sure he will never disobey again.”

  “He won’t have the chance,” replied the chief. “He is coming to work in my service, and he’ll learn to do as he’s told.”

  “Highness, I can’t let you take him,” cried the father.

  The chief seemed to swell with rage.

  “What? You dare to oppose me? You know what it means?”

  “I know what it means, Highness, but what does anything matter if I lose my only child,” replied the father.

  “Perhaps you would like to arrange a contest,” said the chief. “Perhaps you would like to wrestle with my best wrestler with the boy as a prize for the winner.”

  “Oh, no, no,” cried the mother. “Spare my husband!”

  “If you won’t give me a chance to get my boy back on any other terms, I’ll accept the challenge,” the father answered quietly.

  At this everyone in the crowd began to comment, and laugh. It was clear that they regarded such a contest as a joke, and didn’t believe that the boy’s father would stand the slightest chance of winning against the wrestler.

  “Come, wrestler,” called the chief. “Here is some sport for you!”

  The crowd parted and a small thickset man, with the most enormous muscles appeared. The boy’s father tried to hide his despair. He had always been a very good wrestler, but he had never been up against anyone like the individual who now confronted him. The man looked as if his muscles were made of steel.

  The crowd cleared a space, and with the chief sitting in the foreground, the wrestler and the boy’s father circled round each other, while the mother wept, and the boy gave himself and his family into the care of the spirits, for he had no hope.

 

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