African Folk Tales

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African Folk Tales Page 16

by Yoti Lane


  “I want to go back home and live like an ordinary girl.”

  “But you never did live like an ordinary girl. You lived the life of a very spoiled girl,” the crocodile reminded her. “You treated your sisters as if they were your slaves. You never helped your mother. You never did any useful work.”

  “I was foolish,” Jewel exclaimed. “I don’t know why I was so foolish. All I want now is to live like anyone else, I’ll gladly work. I’m sick of having nothing to do all day!”

  The crocodile closed his eyes, and thought for some time.

  “All right,” he said at last. “I’ll let you go, but on conditions. You must work as you say you wish to do, and you must bring me an offering every day, and if ever I catch you dawdling over the pool admiring yourself, I shall surely eat you, even though I have few teeth, and will probably suffer agonies of indigestion. Now go!”

  Thankfully Jewel rose to her feet, gasped out her thanks, and ran down the track that led to the village.

  Her poor mother was delighted to see her back Only fear of what punishment might fall on the village had kept her from going to her daughter. No one else rejoiced particularly, they didn’t care much one way or another. The affair was months old, the sickness had gone, and they had other matters to interest them.

  Jewel, however, was a changed girl. She worked long, and hard, and daily she made her way to the pool with offerings, until she was an old, old woman, and no one remembered anything about the story except a few old people like herself and, of course, the old crocodile who looked much the same, and probably does to this day.

  THE MAN-IN-THE-MOON AND HIS WIFE

  LONG, LONG AGO, the man-in-the-moon and his wife Atai, had a quarrel which led to very strange results. These two were the royalty of the skies once the sun had gone down. The man you all know, he looked then as he does now. Sometimes he was smiling, sometimes he looked grim. His wife was the greatest and brightest of the stars, all the other stars were her servants. When she came out they grouped themselves round her, and secretly they thought she was just as splendid as the moon, and that she was very much more useful, and that they were also.

  They had some reason on their side, for sailors guided their ships by the position of the stars, and many wise men believed they could foretell the future by studying them. This included not only events of great importance, but the future of human beings according to the stars that were shining when they were born. The moon on the other hand could only travel through the heavens and shed light.

  After some time the man-in-the-moon began to hear whispers of all this, and he became jealous. He had been shining long before people thought of building ships, or foretelling the future, and he didn’t like these new fangled notions which threatened his supremacy. So he became very angry, and decided not to shine at all, or to allow the stars to shine either. In order to prevent them doing this he sought the support of some of the elements. He sought out the rain, and thunder and lightning. “The stars are becoming conceited,” he told them. “They think they have command of the heavens, and they have to be taught better!” After a good deal of talk of this kind he persuaded the elements to do their worst. The rain poured down, thunder crashed, and lightning flashed. The earth darkened, the rivers were flooded and over-ran the earth. Trees were swept away, low lying country was overwhelmed with water, animals and birds were drowned, and the people of the earth were driven into caves and on tops of high mountains, where they led the most miserable existence.

  Days passed in this way. The people starved and froze because even the sun could not make any impression on the deluge, and it seemed as if the whole world must be destroyed. The man-in-the-moon didn’t care, however. He retired well content because his wife and the other stars couldn’t shine.

  Atai was furious, and sulked, and vowed that the deluge could go on for ever as far as she was concerned. Her husband had prevented her shining, but he couldn’t shine himself either. In fact being idle didn’t improve either of their tempers, while the stormy elements who had never had control over the world before, were thoroughly enjoying their power.

  Down below, man, the unfortunate victim of this celestial quarrel, was in terrible straits. He prayed and made sacrifices, and everyone blamed everyone else for offending the Gods, and as a result people began to quarrel and make war among themselves. Their troubles were increased by the fact that they were preyed upon by wild animals, and had to keep great fires burning in the caves to frighten the beasts. At night, beyond the ring of fire, men could see the eyes of fierce lions, tigers, and wolves, waiting to attack them. This was not because lions, tigers and wolves preferred to eat men, they did not, but the animals they usually stalked were becoming more and more scarce.

  At length the little stars became very perturbed at the deadlock. They approached Atai and petitioned her to abandon the quarrel. They suggested that there should be some agreement between the moon and the stars. When the moon was at his brightest the stars could remain in the background, and when the moon had retired the stars could have the heavens to themselves. They pointed out that if the stormy elements continued to hold power, there would be no light on earth, and that indeed after a time there would be no earth left.

  Atai, who was by this time very bored with the quarrel, at first pretended indifference about what happened in the future, but eventually the little stars persuaded her to allow them to go to the man-in-the-moon, and make peace offers. Their reception was better than they expected because he was in no way happy about his own position. He wasn’t ruling the heavens, and he had lost his wife. When the little stars put their suggestions before him, of course, he had to pretend a certain amount of indifference.

  “I am very glad that you come in this spirit,” he informed them. “It cannot be disputed that I am the real ruler, but I do not wish this foolish quarrel to continue. For my own part, I am prepared to remain in retirement, but I feel I have responsibilities to the earth. If the present state of affairs continues the earth will be ruined.”

  The little stars enthusiastically supported this view, and were very complimentary about his unselfish spirit. They then went into possible terms of settlement, and after a great deal of discussion the moon agreed. It was arranged that the new plan should start forthwith. But the man-in-the-moon found himself with another problem on his hands. The elements having been given control were not prepared to abandon it. Finally, a three-cornered agreement had to be made. Sometimes the moon would shine and the stars would be comparatively dim. When the moon retired the stars would come out in their full splendour, but there was to be a third period when there was complete darkness with rain and storms.

  The man-in-the-moon and his wife patched up their quarrel, and have remained on the best of terms ever since. Some people consider that there is nothing more beautiful than a full moon slipping across the skies, others love the splendour of the stars. Wise men write books about them, sailors navigate by them, and astrologers claim to read the future in the starlit heavens. But no one is happy when rain and storms sweep the earth. Gentle rain is welcomed, of course, but not the floods, and thunder and lightning, but man has had to accept them, for they come as regularly as night and day. In the rainy season man has to take cover and exist as best he can until the storms pass, and the fine weather returns once more.

  BATS DON’T BELONG

  THE BATS WERE the busiest creatures in the forest, for the bats had plans. No one was quite sure where the bats had come from, or in fact why bats were. They weren’t even sure of it themselves. They could both fly and creep. Many of them believed they could fly even better than the birds. The ones with large, strong wings were very proud of themselves. Then there were others who were as strong as some of the animals, and the animals were afraid of them.

  It seemed to the bats that they were getting somewhere. Most of the other creatures of the forest could have traced their ancestors back through the dim ages, and the ancestors would have appeared little different
to their descendants if they had come back to earth. The birds and animals were bound by ancient settled habits, and they belonged either to the earth or the air, but the bats had the freedom of both domains, they resembled mice or rats with their own airplanes. In their secret hearts it seemed to the bats that they might one day be lords of both earth and air. For this reason they were very concerned with their own affairs, and didn’t notice much of what was going on around them.

  And there were strange happenings. For one thing there was a drought, and almost everyone was bad tempered as a result. As always when there is trouble an effort was made to hold somebody responsible. Food was short, so the animals blamed the birds for eating too much. The birds accused the animals of meanness, and others of hoarding, and feeling ran higher and higher. Quarrels broke out.

  The first thing the bats knew about it was when the Leader, out on his usual nocturnal hunt, bumped into a large owl.

  “Hello! What are you doing here?” squeaked the Bat Leader.

  “I’m watching. Haven’t you heard that the animals who used to sleep all night, now rove round, and steal our food. It’s my job to keep a look-out and raise the alarm!”

  “Steal your food!” echoed the bat.

  “Well, everybody’s food. You know how short things are. We’ve tried to enforce a sort of rationing scheme. We—well, almost all of us, have kept our word, but the animals are sneaking round at night eating more than they should. If we catch them there is going to be trouble.”

  “What will you do?”

  “We’ll fight!” The owl ruffled his feathers until he looked like a huge puff-ball and glared in the most menacing way.

  The bat didn’t like any of this. He was a peaceful fellow, and didn’t want to be bothered with other people’s troubles. As he and his fellows only hunted for food for a few brief hours of the night, always had done so, and couldn’t do anything else on account of poor eyesight, he felt this new trouble was no affair of his. So he bade the owl farewell and flitted on.

  On his way home he was amazed to see a lion sitting outside his cave, very much on the alert. He was accustomed to seeing lions stalking prey in the moonlight, but this was something different.

  “Hello,” squeaked the bat. “Aren’t you going to bed?”

  “Not till after sunrise,” growled the lion. “Then the elephant takes over. You see we have to keep guard over our food because of those unscrupulous birds. Since the shortage came they have turned completely dishonest. So I keep watch and roar if I see any of them flying round. If they persist, there is going to be a very serious situation. We animals are peaceful folk, but there are limits to our patience.”

  The bat went home to bed in a thoughtful mood. If this went on it looked like war.

  A few days later war was declared. War between the animals and the birds. The animals had demanded that the birds keep to the trees and never descend to the earth, and the birds maintained that they had a perfect right to either sphere, and were not going to give up their rights.

  The bats decided that all this was nothing to do with them, and declared themselves neutral. They went about their business as usual, and were perfectly polite and friendly with both sides.

  Naturally this soon made them unpopular. Because they spoke to the birds, the animals decided they were spies carrying information to their feathered friends. The birds in turn suspected them of giving away secrets to the animals. Everything became more and more difficult for the bats, and they found themselves having to retreat further and further into their caves in order to keep out of trouble.

  Meanwhile, the war went on. At first the birds suffered the worst casualties. On the other hand they could rove further for their food at greater speed than could the animals. Some of the animals starved to death, and then an epidemic started, and animals died in large numbers. For this reason it seemed to the animals that they had better get hold of all the allies they could, and so diplomatic approaches were made to the bats. A large rat was sent along to discuss matters with the leader of the bats.

  “We feel that for your own sake, you should be on our side,” he pointed out. “After all, you are far more animal than bird, you are bound to us by old ties and associations. If we are beaten you will be completely at the mercy of the birds. We stand for the order that has served the forest for so long. Everyone in his place, and everyone getting a fair share. The birds will destroy all that if they get into power.”

  The Bat Leader looked thoughtful. This was the first time the animals had claimed such close kinship with the bats. Things must be pretty bad, for up to the present the animals had shown the bats small consideration. In fact there had been several regrettable incidents, during which bats had been attacked and killed. The excuse always was, of course, that the bat had been mistaken for a bird.

  The Leader, therefore, squeaked non-committal answers.

  “This is a very serious matter for us. We are pacifist on principle. We don’t believe in wars. However, we shall give you an answer in due course when the matter has had our full consideration.”

  “How soon will that be?” the rat asked suspiciously.

  “Not for a little time, I’m afraid; You see so many of my people have gone to attend to the fruit crop in the South. We must have our fair share, and then the new colony just settled in those splendid caves we’ve discovered in Calabar, have a great deal to do at present.”

  The rat swished his tail in irritation, but there was nothing he could do but make a polite answer, and go away quietly. He had been especially warned not to lose his temper.

  The Bat Leader was swinging cosily from his favourite perch on the roof of the cave, when a small bat came to inform him that some special emissaries from the bird world had come to see him. Having kept them waiting for ten minutes the Leader descended and went to the mouth of the cave.

  The emissaries looked impressive at first glance. A gorgeous flamingo, an imposing pelican, and an eloquent, brilliantly hued parrot. But the Leader noticed that they were all very thin, and he felt sure they would have given every feather they possessed for a really good meal.

  After polite exchanges the parrot got down to business.

  “We shall be frank with you, brother. This war is going badly. We think the time has come to warn you of your own danger if you keep neutral. This is a war of the old order against the new. We stand for freedom, freedom of the earth for everybody. If the animals win they will keep us to the tree tops, and it will only be a matter of time before they keep you there as well. If you value your liberty, you must come in on our side. After all, you are our kinsman. You are far more bird than beast.”

  The Bat Leader tried to look profound. He was perfectly well aware that the birds were doing badly, but then the animals were doing badly too, and the epidemic was killing them off. Squeaking lengthily, he said so much, and in such an obscure way, that at the end of it the birds didn’t really know what he thought, nor was he any too sure himself. However, he got rid of them at last and returned home to call a meeting.

  The real point was, did the bats belong to the bird world or the animal world? Some bats held one view, and some the other, while a third party maintained that they were superior people far above either birds or beasts. Time passed, and the discussion went on, also the war went on, and the birds and animals continued to die.

  Then one day the sky became overcast. A few drops of rain fell; torrents of rain fell. It rained so hard that the war had to be abandoned, and everyone had to take shelter. Thousands of refugees from both sides arrived in the caves of the bats. Finally the rain grew less, but all over the forest streams trickled. Grass began to grow, food became more plentiful. Everyone was so thirsty and so hungry that they began to eat all they could, and the war was forgotten. In the end there was an armistice.

  Nearly all this passed over the heads of the bats because they continued to argue as to whether they were birds or animals. The question was never properly settled. It never has been to thi
s day. Everyone argues about it, including learned men all over the world, but no one can completely decide. Because of this bats don’t belong either to the birds or the animals, and neither side wants to claim kinship with them. But they are very self sufficient folk and they don’t seem to mind.

  NEVER ANGRY

  VERY FEW OF us are as good tempered as we might be, although we often wish that we were. On the other hand the person who is always good tempered has troubles also. Once there was a little girl whose good temper was known to everyone. When she was a baby she was never peevish, and scarcely ever cried. This earned her the name, “Never Angry,” and no one ever called her anything else.

  The baby grew up, but she never fought or quarrelled as other children did. When her companions realised this they began to appreciate it. True, at first they just teased her to see if they could make her cross, but they didn’t succeed. So they stopped and sometimes they even made efforts to imitate her, but they weren’t very successful. At some time or other something happened to make everyone lose his temper, everyone that is, but Never Angry.

  Now one reason why Never Angry was like this, was that her mother had a bad temper, and this made life so unpleasant that Never Angry had firmly resolved that she would never make herself and others unhappy through ill-humour. As she grew up it was only natural that her daughter’s character, far from pleasing the mother, should irritate her, because it seemed like a constant reproach to herself.

  “Why can’t you be like other people,” she stormed at the girl. “You are deliberately pretending to be good humoured in order to seem better than everyone else!”

  “But if I never feel cross why should I pretend that I do?” Never Angry asked reasonably.

  “You would often feel cross if your life was as hard as mine,” the mother retorted. “Here you are an only child. It’s easy for you to have a sunny disposition. You have no worries.”

 

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