Latin American Folktales

by John Bierhorst

  After a while the second son came along and married the second daughter. Finally the youngest son asked for his father’s good words of blessing. Then he, too, prepared food for the road and set out to search for a bride. Before long he had joined his older brothers and in no time had married the youngest daughter of the old man.

  Now Tup, the youngest boy, was a do-nothing, as his father-in-law soon found out. He was constantly being scolded for his laziness, and his mother-in-law would say to her youngest daughter, “What use is an idle husband?”

  When the time came to clear cornfields, the old man called his three sons-in-law together and told them they must start the next day. “Cut trees!” he commanded.

  Next morning the brothers set out to work, carrying tortillas and corn soup to last for three days. But Tup carried only a little, because his wife’s mother hated to waste corn on such a worthless son-in-law.

  The two older brothers quickly found a spot that suited them and began working. But Tup went on through the forest, not stopping until he had left his brothers some distance behind. Sitting down to rest, he fell asleep. When he awoke, it was quite late in the afternoon, too late to do any work. So he gathered a few palm leaves and made himself a shelter. After he had eaten some of his tortillas and drunk some of the corn soup, he went back to sleep.

  Next morning, when he awoke, all his tortillas and corn soup had disappeared. Looking around and seeing a leaf-cutter ant carrying off the last piece of tortilla, he realized that while he had slept, the ants had robbed him of his food. He picked up the ant and said, “I’ll kill you unless you take me to your nest.” The ant did not disobey. When they arrived, Tup knocked three times, and the lord of the nest came out. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Your people have stolen all my tortillas and corn soup,” said Tup. “Either you must give me back my food or you must do my work.”

  The lord of the nest thought for a few moments, then said, “I will do the work.” So Tup showed him where to make the cornfield and went back to his shelter to sleep while the forest was being cleared. All the ants turned out to work that night, and being so many, they had cut down all the trees and bushes by the end of three days.

  On the way back to his father-in-law’s, Tup passed his two brothers. Instead of clearing the forest, these two were busily making holes in the tree trunks. When the old man had said, “Cut trees,” they had thought he meant cut into them instead of cut them down, and on and on they worked.

  When Tup got home, the old man cried, “Here comes Idle-bones, the last to go and the first to return. Don’t give him anything to eat.” In spite of this, the mother-in-law managed to grind some cornmeal and make a few tortillas. Later, however, when the other two brothers arrived, the old man greeted them heartily and ordered chickens cooked.

  After several days, when he judged that the fields would be dry, the old man sent his three sons-in-law to burn the brush. The older two were given large supplies of corn soup and honey, while little Tup, for being so lazy, got only a small portion of each.

  The two older boys, when they got to their spot in the forest, gathered all the wood chips and twigs they could find and burned them, but the column of smoke that rose to the sky was miserably thin. Meanwhile Tup took his honey and corn soup to the ants’ nest and gave it to the lord of the nest on the condition that they do the work of burning his field. Then Tup rested all day, while the ants hurried about their task, burning the entire field. The columns of smoke that rose were so thick even the sun was hidden.

  But the old man thought the smoke from Tup’s field came from where the other two brothers were working. So when Tup returned, he again scolded him.

  When all was ready for sowing, the older brothers took three mules loaded with corn seed. Tup took only one sack. The older brothers planted a little of their corn beneath the trees, but most of it they left in a storage hut they had built in the forest, and the rest they hid in one of the hollowed-out tree trunks.

  Tup, meanwhile, took his seed to the ants, but when they saw such a small sack they said it was not enough. The fire had spread far beyond the cleared area, they said, and the amount of land to be planted was now enormous. “You may find more seed in my brothers’ storehouse,” said Tup, and when they had started to work, he went to sleep. After the planting was done, the three returned home. Tup received his usual contemptuous welcome, while the older brothers were feasted.

  When the corn was in ear, the old man sent the three sons-in-law back to their fields to make earth ovens and roast the young corn. The two older brothers, with little else they could do, dug a small hole in the ground, then put in the few stunted ears that had just managed to survive in the shade of the forest. As for Tup, he went straight to the lord of the ants, and all the ants came immediately to his aid. They brought fifteen loads of the yellow ears, made the earth oven, heated it, and packed it with the corn while Tup slept. Toward evening he awoke and returned home.

  On the following day the old man and his wife, his three daughters, and their husbands set out with a team of mules to harvest the field and eat the roasted ears. Arriving at the cornfield of the two older brothers, the father-in-law found that there was no clearing to be seen and no corn except for the few miserable plants growing in the shade of the forest, and these were more like grass than corn. When the old man saw the heap of rotting corn in the hollowed-out tree, he cried, “Where is your earth oven?”

  The tiny oven was uncovered, and when the father-in-law had been shown the handful of stunted ears, he flew into a rage. Refusing even to speak to the two older brothers, he turned to Tup and said, “Let us see if you have done any better.”

  They started off again, Tup leading them through the forest until they came to the path the ants had made from the ant nest to the field. The path gradually widened, becoming a highway. “Where does this fine road lead?” asked the old man, and Tup replied, “To my cornfield.”

  Eventually they reached a huge field, stretching farther than the eye could see. “This,” said Tup, “is my field.” But the old man, knowing his son-in-law, could not believe it. As they climbed a small hill at the edge of the clearing, the old man’s wife asked Tup where the earth oven was, thinking he would not be able to answer her, for she, too, doubted that this could be his cornfield. “You are standing on it,” replied Tup. “This hill is the earth oven.” Then the old man said, “You have worked enough. Let your two brothers uncover the roasted ears.”

  While the brothers worked, the mother-in-law tried to walk the field to see how wide and how long it might be, but it was so immense she got lost, and Tup, once again, had to call his friends the ants. Told that the old woman had lost her way, the ants spread out over the cornfield, searching until they found her.

  After they had all eaten their fill of the roasted young ears and the mules had been loaded, they started for home. That night chickens were killed in honor of Tup. As for the other two brothers, they were ordered out of the house and told never to return.

  Mexico (Yucatec Maya)

  40. A Master and His Pupil

  Don Gumersindo Drydregs had a son, and the boy was getting big. The time had long passed for him to start in a job. So one day Don Gumersindo called him and said, “My son, how tall you are already! And still you don’t know how to do anything. I’ve decided to apprentice you to a trade. Tell me which one you like.”

  The boy said, “Me? I don’t even know the names of any of those what-do-you-call-them, trades. Start naming them, and I’ll tell you what I think.”

  “All right, son. Let me see. How about carpenter?”

  “No, I’d cut myself to pieces.”

  “Blacksmith?”

  “Goodness! I’d burn myself.”

  “Bricklayer?”

  “Heavens! I’d get lime in my eyes.”

  “Tailor?”

  “I’d stick myself with a needle.”

  “Shoemaker?”

  “Never. I’d hit my knees with
the hammer.”

  “Potter?”

  “What’s that, with clay? I hate it.”

  No matter what Don Gumersindo suggested, the boy found something wrong. The old man was desperate. Finally he shouted in anger, “I’ve got the job for you! Idler!”

  “If you say so,” said the boy, “I’ll try it.”

  The following day Don Gumersindo delivered his son into the hands of Juan Idler, a man without any known trade, who lived off tricks and thievery.

  The first day of the apprenticeship, Juan said to the boy, “Let’s go out to the street, my son. We’ll see what’s available.” They walked up and down, begging alms, then watched for a while to see if there were any drunks they could roll. Nothing turned up.

  Since they were really quite hungry, they stopped under a fig tree, and Juan said, “Here we are! This at least will keep us from starving. I’ll climb up and drop a few figs, and when you’ve eaten all you want, save the rest for me.” So he climbed up into the tree, and when he’d dropped a few of the figs he jumped back down. And there was his apprentice lying on the ground with his mouth wide open.

  “What’s this?” said Juan. “Did you eat enough already?”

  “Well, no, master,” said the boy. “Not a single one fell into my mouth.”

  Juan said, “Ah, what a finished product you are. Why does your father bring you to me? I should go to you. You could give me lessons.”

  Guatemala

  41. The Louse-Drum

  In a country a long way from here a king had a pretty daughter who played a drum that could be heard all over the kingdom. Since kings in those days used to invite princes to their palaces so that their daughters could look them over, this king held a banquet, and princes came from near and far. The one who guessed what the princess’s drum was made of would win her hand.

  Not a single one guessed correctly.

  Now, the princess was in love with a certain prince who lived in town but hadn’t dared show up at the palace because he was an enemy of the king. So one day the princess was on her balcony when this prince was standing at his window, and she called out to him, “Come guess! Tell them the drum is made from the skin of a louse that my maidservant found on my head.” Unfortunately the prince was not close enough to catch this information.

  But an old man sitting under the balcony heard every word. He got up and went straight to the palace guard and asked for an audience with the king. The king took one look at him and said, “It’s guess or be hanged by the neck. Here, if you’re such a wise man: What’s my daughter’s drum made of?”

  The old man answered, “The drum you’re talking about is made from the skin of a louse that a maidservant found on the princess’s head, and you yourself gave the order for it to be fattened up until its skin was large enough to make a drum.”

  Since kings’ promises are promises for keeps, the king had to call his daughter and tell her he was about to give her away to a graybeard, and a pauper at that. No matter that the girl protested, the king arranged for their marriage and immediately banished them both from the palace.

  The princess had an idea. She suggested to her old husband that they go bathing together at the head of a roaring falls. Off they went, and when the old man had bathed awhile he lay down to rest beside the falls. As soon as he had dropped off to sleep, the princess pushed him over the bank. He disappeared in the spray, but at the same moment something jumped up on her back, and suddenly she had a lump on her shoulder. From then on, whenever she spoke, the lump answered her.

  On and on she traveled, through forests, across rivers, and past villages, until at last she came to the city of a king with a son that interested her. Pretending she couldn’t speak, so that no one would discover the talkative lump on her shoulder, she found employment in the king’s kitchen. They called her The Mute.

  She caught the prince’s eye, and he wondered if the new kitchen maid might not be more than a humble servant girl, perhaps some kind of princess. But the prince had already been promised to a young woman of that city. When his engagement day arrived, the date was set for the wedding.

  One day the queen asked the new kitchen girl to make her a corn-dough pudding. As the princess started to cook it up, she remembered the lump on her shoulder, which was quite fatty, and she said to it, “Hey, lump, want to come down on my arm?”

  Needless to say, it answered her. “Sure, why not?” Then she said, “Hey, lump, come down to my hand.”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Hey, lump, come down to the tip of my finger.”

  “Sure, why not?” And when the lump was dangling from her fingertip, she quick took a knife and sliced it off. As it dropped into the pudding, it shouted, “Ayayay, ayayay! I’m melting!” But she was unmoved by its cries.

  When she tried her voice and found that she was at last free, she was greatly relieved. For the time being, however, she remained silent.

  The queen thought the pudding was delicious.

  That evening The Mute put on a green dress and shoes to match, rouged her face the way princesses do, and when she finished she was quite presentable. She knew where the prince’s bride-to-be lived, so she went there and walked in front of the house. The prince and his betrothed were standing on a balcony. The prince recognized The Mute and completely forgot himself. He blurted out, “You look like the princess my heart has dreamed of.” She answered, “You’ve seen your princess in dreams. Now you see her in life.”

  The prince shook himself loose from his betrothed’s arm and ran after The Mute. “How can it be?” he asked. “You are not mute at all.” He took her hand in his and led her to his coach. By the time they reached the palace they were ready to announce their engagement. You can imagine how surprised the king and the queen were when the princess told them her story.

  To celebrate the wedding they invited all the neighboring kings and queens, and the guests included the princess’s father and mother, who found nothing to fault in their new son-in-law.

  Panama

  42. The Three Dreams

  Two students, once, were on their way to a town. The road was long and they had only ten centavos between them. In the distance they could see something moving. What was it? They stepped up their pace and, sure enough, it was human. An Indian, they realized. They got closer, hailed him, and called out, “Do you have any money on you?”

  “Five centavos.”

  That’s just what each of the two students had, five centavos. They’d been discussing it, how it wasn’t enough to buy a meal, and so they’d kept on walking until they’d come to this something or other that might be human, and they’d stopped to ask about the money; and the man had said, “Five centavos.”

  So one of the students said to the other, “Since we’ve got ten already, and our friend here has five, that makes fifteen. We could do something.”

  They kept on down the road, and after a while it got dark. They decided to ask the Indian to make camp with them for the night. Then the three pooled their resources and bought a half-pound of rice and a pound of sugar to cook in a little pot that one of them had brought along. When it was time to go to bed—well, let’s just say, lie down— one of the two intellectuals made a proposition, “This rice? In the morning we’ll cook it up for breakfast to get some energy for the road, but the one who gets to eat it will be the one who tells the best dream.”

  So the pressure was on to start dreaming. The two students went right to sleep. In the morning all three were ready with dreams to tell. One of the two students was the first to wake up. He said to his friend, “Did you dream anything?”

  “Yes I did.”

  “What was it?”

  “In my dream there was a broad avenue stretching from here all the way to Heaven, and it was lined with flowers. I walked along until I came to the end. There was a church. It was so beautiful, I walked right in. When I got inside, I saw all the statues of the saints, and I myself became . . . a statue! And what about you? Did you dream?�
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  “Yes, I dreamed there was a broad avenue stretching all the way to Heaven. I walked along until I got to the church, and I saw that you were a statue, but then I raised my eyes and there was a cloud coming down. It got closer and I could make out three angels. They lifted me up. I became an angel, too, and the four of us floated into the sky.”

  “So we both had dreams! What about you, Indian? Did you dream?”

  “Yes, patrón, a little bit like your dream. Imagine it, patrón, there was an avenue, and at the end of the avenue was a church. I went inside, and there was my patrón, changed into a statue, and I looked up and saw my other patrón carried away by the angels. So what else could I do, all by myself in the world? I ate the rice.”

  Guatemala / Luis Arturo Hernández Castañeda

  43. The Clump of Basil

  Well, sir, there was once a carpenter who had three pretty daughters, Carmen, María, and Pepita, and they lived in a little house not far from the king’s palace. The house had a garden full of flowers and a handsome clump of basil.

  The poor carpenter had to be out nearly every day working his trade, while his daughters labored at home by themselves.

  Now, the king who lived in this city was a great lover of riddles and would propose them not only to his courtiers but to anyone he happened to meet. One morning, while out for a ride, he passed the carpenter’s little house and saw Carmen, the eldest of the daughters, watering the basil. He called out to her,

  Young lady, grant me your best appraisal: How many leaves on your clump of basil?

  The girl was embarrassed and went inside without answering.

  The next day the king came by again. The second eldest, María, was watering the basil plant. The king repeated his question. But like her sister, the poor young woman went into the house, ashamed, without answering.

  The following day Pepita, the youngest and prettiest, was out watering, and when the king caught sight of her he asked,