Then Oom Leeuw knew there must be something wrong at his house, and he was angry. He struck his iron claws into the ground and roared and roared. Softly he began, like thunder far away rolling through the kloofs, then louder and louder, till—“hoor-rr-rr-rr, hoor-rr-rr-rr”—the earth beneath him seemed to shake. It was a terrible noise.
But all his roaring did not help him, and at last he had to get up and walk home. He found the poor white crows nearly dead with fright, but they soon found out that he could no longer fly, so they were not afraid of him.
“Hoor-rr-rr-rr, hoor-rr-rr-rr! “he roared. “What have you done to make my wings so weak?” And they said: “While Oom was away, someone came and broke all the bones.” And Oom Leeuw said: “You were put here to watch them. It is your fault that they are broken, and to punish you I am going to bite your stupid white heads off. Hoor-rr-rr-rr!”
He sprang towards them, but now they were not afraid of him. They flew away and sailed round in the air over his head, just too high for him to reach, and they called out: “Ha-ha! Oom cannot catch us! The bones are broken, and his wings are useless. Now men and animals can live again. We will fly away and tell them the good news.”
Oom Leeuw sprang into the air, first to one side and then to the other, striking at them, but he couldn’t reach them, and when he found all his efforts were in vain, he rolled on the ground and roared louder than ever. The white crows flew round him in rings, and called out: “Ha-ha! He can no longer fly! He only rolls and roars! The one who broke the bones said: If Oom Leeuw wants me, he can come and look for me at the dam.’ Craw, craw,” and away they flew.
Then Oom Leeuw thought: “Wait, I’ll get hold of the one who broke the bones. I’ll get him.” So he went to the dam, and there was old Bullfrog sitting in the sun at the water’s edge. Oom Leeuw crept up slowly, quietly, behind Bullfrog.
“Ha! Now I’ve got him,” he thought, and made a spring, but Bullfrog said, “Ho!” and dived into the dam and came up on the other side, and sat there blinking in the sun. Oom Leeuw ran round as hard as he could, and was just going to spring, when Bullfrog dived in again and came up at the other side. And so it went on. Each time, just when Oom Leeuw had nearly caught him, Bullfrog dived in and called out, “Ho!” from the other side of the dam.
Then, at last, Oom Leeuw saw it was no use trying to catch Bullfrog, so he went home to see if he could mend the broken bones. But he couldn’t, and from that day he could no longer fly, only walk upon his iron claws. From that day, too, he learned to creep quietly after his game, and though he still catches them and eats them, he is not as dangerous as he was when he could fly.
And the white crows can no longer speak. They can only say, “Craw, craw.”
But old Big Bullfrog still goes hop-hop-hoppity-hop round the dam, and whenever he sees Oom Leeuw, he just says, “Ho!” and dives into the water as fast as he can, and sits there laughing when he hears Oom Leeuw roar.
—South Africa
15
A-Man-Among-Men
This story is about a forest giant, and about a man called, A-Man-Among-Men. A story, a story. Let it go, let it come.
There was a certain man by the name of A-Man-Among-Men. Always when he came from the bush, he would uproot a tree and throw it to earth, saying, “I am A-Man-Among-Men.” His wife said, “Come now, stop saying you are a-man-among-men; if you saw a-man-among-men you would run.” But he said, “That is a lie.” Now, it was always so—whenever he brought in wood, he would say the same thing, and his wife would answer the same.
Now, one day his wife went to the stream. She came to a certain well; the bucket there was so heavy that it took ten men to draw it up. She went there, but had to do without water, so she turned back. She was going home when she met another woman, who said, “Where are you going with a calabash with no water?” She said, “I have come and seen a bucket there that I could not draw, so I had to turn back home.” This other woman, who had a son, said, “Let us go back, so that you may get your water.” The first woman said, “All right.” So they returned together to the well. The woman who had the son, told the boy to lift the bucket and draw water. Now the boy was small, not past the age when he was carried on his mother’s back. But he lifted the bucket then and there, put it in the well, and drew up the water. They filled their large water pots, they bathed, they washed their clothes, they lifted up the water to go home. The first woman was astonished. Then she saw that the one who had the boy had turned off the path and was entering the bush. The wife of the one who called himself A-Man-Among-Men said, “Where are you going?” The other answered, “I am going home, where else?” “Is that the way to your home?” “Yes.” “Whose home is it?” “The home of A-Man-Among-Men.” The wife was silent till she got home. Then she told her husband what had happened, that she had met a child, the son of a man who was really called A-Man-Among-Men, and deserved the name because he was so strong. He replied that tomorrow she must take him there. She replied, “May Allah give us a tomorrow.”
Next morning he was the first to get up from sleep. He took his weapons and slung them over his shoulder. He put his axe on his shoulder and woke up his wife. He said, “Get up, let us go. Take me that I may see, that I may really see the one you say is really A-Man-Among-Men.” She got up, lifted her large water pot, and passed on in front. He followed her until they got to the edge of the well. Now they found what they sought indeed. As they were coming, the wife of A-Man-Among-Men came up, both she and her son. They greeted her, and the wife of the boaster showed him the bucket, and said, “Lift it up and draw water for me.” So he lifted up the bucket in a rage, and when he let it down the well, the bucket pulled him so hard that he would have fallen after it; but the little boy grabbed hold of him, both the man and the bucket, and pulled him out and threw him to the side, for he was indeed a weakling. Then the boy lifted up the bucket, put it in the well, drew water, and filled their water pots. The man’s wife said, “You have said you are going to see him called A-Man-Among-Men. You have seen this is his wife and son. If you still want to go, you can follow them. As for me, I am not going.” The boy’s mother said, “I’m warning you, you had better not come, for my husband is truly named A-Man-Among-Men.” But he insisted, and she said, “Let us be off.” They set out. When they arrived at the house, she showed him a place for storing meat so that he could hide in it and see this man, and he got inside. Now, the master of the house was not at home; he had gone to the bush. His wife said, “You have seen he has gone to the bush; but you must not stir when he comes back.” He sat inside till evening. The master of the house came. When he came, he said, “I smell the smell of a man.” His wife said, “Is there another person here? Is it not I?” Thus, if he said he smelled the smell of a man, then she would say, “Is there another person here? Is it not I? If you want to eat me up, well and good, for there is no one else but I.”
Now he was a huge man, his words like a tornado; ten elephants he would eat. When dawn came, he made his morning meal of one elephant, then he went to the bush, and if he should see a person there, he would kill him. Now, the boaster stayed hidden in the storehouse. The man’s wife told him, “You must not move till he is asleep. If you have seen the place dark, he is not asleep; if you have seen the place light, that is a sign he is asleep. You better run away then.” Shortly after, he saw the place had become light as day, and he came out. He ran and ran, until dawn, he was running, till the sun rose he was running, he did not stand.
Then A-Man-Among-Men woke up from sleep, and he said, “I smell the smell of a man, I smell the smell of a man.” He rose up, he followed where the man had gone, he ran after. The boaster kept running until he met up with some people who were clearing the ground for a farm. They asked what had happened, and he said, “Someone is chasing me.” They said, “Stand here till he comes.” A short time passed, and the wind caused by the giant, A-Man-Among-Men, came; it lifted them and cast them down. And he said, “Yes, that is it, the wind he makes running; he himself has no
t yet come. If you are able to withstand him, tell me. If you are not able, say so.” And they said, “Pass on.” So he ran off.
Soon he came to some people hoeing. They asked, “What is chasing you?” He replied, “Someone is pursuing me.” They said, “What kind of man is chasing one such as you.” He answered, “Someone who says he is A-Man-Among-Men.” They said, “Not a-man-among-men, a-man-among-women. Stand till he comes.” He stayed there, and he was there when the wind began. It was pushing the men who were hoeing. So he said, “You have seen that is the wind A-Man-Among-Men makes even before he comes. If you are a match for him, tell me; if not say so.” They said, “Pass on,” and off he ran.
He was running when he came across some people sowing. They said, “What are you running for?” He said, “Someone is chasing me.” And they said, “What kind of a man is it who is chasing the likes of you?” He said, “His name is A-Man-Among-Men.” They said, “Sit here till he comes.” He sat down. In a short time, the wind came and it lifted them and threw them down on the earth. And they said, “What kind of wind is that?” The man who was being pursued, said, “It is his wind.” And they said, “Pass on.” They threw away their sowing implements, and went into the bush and hid, but the one who had boasted ran on.
Now he went on until he ran into a huge man sitting alone at the foot of a baobab tree. This man had killed elephants and was roasting them. He could eat twenty elephants all at once, but in the morning he breakfasted on only five. His name was the Giant of the Forest. The giant asked him, “Where are you going in all this haste?” And he said, “A-Man-Among-Men is chasing me.” And the Giant of the Forest said, “Come here, sit down till he comes.” He sat down, and they waited a little while. Then the wind made by A-Man-Among-Men came, and lifted the man, and was about to carry him off, when the Giant of the Forest shouted to him to come back. He said, “I am not running away. The wind caused by A-Man-Among-Men is carrying me away.” At that, the Giant of the Forest flew into a rage, he got up and caught the man’s hand, and placed it under his thigh.
He was sitting there when A-Man-Among-Men came up, and said, “You sitting there, are you of the living or of the dead?” And the Giant of the Forest answered, “Don’t interfere.” And A-Man-Among-Men said, “If you want to stay healthy, give me the one you are keeping there.” And the Giant of the Forest said, “Why don’t you come and take him?” And, at that, he flew into a rage and jumped and seized him. They began wrestling with each other. When they had twisted their legs round one another, they leaped into the heavens. Up to this day, they are wrestling there. When they get tired, they sit down and rest; and when they rise up to struggle, that is the thunder in the sky—it is their struggling.
The man, all this while, was watching, and suddenly found himself free. He went home and told the tale. And his wife said, “That is why I was always telling you, whatever you do, make little of it. Whether it be you are great in strength, or in power, or riches, or poverty, and are puffed up with pride, it is all the same; someone is always better than you. You said it was wrong to believe so, but now, your own eyes have seen.”
—Hausa
16
A Competition of Lies
To understand how stories such as these are told in African style, I have included here a group of them that were recently recorded by Donald Cosentino, and that are incorporated in his study of the storytelling traditions, or domeisia, of the Mende of Sierra Leone. These three texts were created by Hannah Samba (identified here as Storyteller I), Mariatu Sandi (Storyteller II), and Manungo (Storyteller III). They are rival storytellers in active competition, playing around with the narrative possibilities of one dramatic situation. The focus is on the situation that arises when a female protagonist acts in a most unmannerly way because of her uncontrollable sex drive. (This behavior is especially unclean, because it flies directly in the face of the rules of the Mende women’s initiation group, the Sande society.) Her excesses lead to her being willingly carried away to the bush by a supermasculine figure who, it appears, is a spirit, Kpana, who has borrowed his handsome features from a number of individuals to whom he must return them. The plot turns on the woman’s situation, her discovery of the true character of her captor, the conditions of her having a child, and her dying on returning to the village.
As Cosentino explains it, these stories emerged in the course of a normal evening’s entertainment in the village. The gathering consisted of three women who are regularly antagonistic to each other. Such antagonism is not antithetical to creativity. Rather, because it likely engages the interest of everyone in the listening group to see the women go at each other, the public face-off sharpens the skill of the storytellers. As Cosentino puts it: “Despite their antipathy, or perhaps because of it, such a gathering was not unusual. The women were used to their oppositions, to the tensions that arose when they conversed, and to the polarities in their lives. The performance of domeisia was another dimension of their rivalry, a transformation of their hostility into works of art whose final shapes were dictated not only by the [tales’ conventions] but by the nature of the human relationships which bound the narrators to a lifelong competition.”
All three of these narratives tell essentially the same story, one which is not terribly different in construction from some of our most familiar fairy tales, such as Jack the Giant Killer. All turn on the spirit falling asleep for an extended period of time. But the performers here play with this basic plot to demonstrate their individual storytelling abilities—especially through the command of ideophonic sound effects, the elaborating of the scenes with contemporary references, and the use of the story to point up a unique moral. In this report, an exact translation, we can see the importance of the various vocal techniques for establishing and maintaining fluency and dramatic interest. The first storyteller begins, as always, by saying, “I have a story, Domei oo Domeisia,” to which the onlookers respond, “Sa Konde.” She then leaps into it.
Storyteller I [Hannah Samba]: Behold this girl from long ago, she was a great fornicator. She continued fornicating for a long time, then they initiated the Sande society in that town. Spirits came from the big forest; they came to this dancing place. One of the spirits was named Kpana. When that spirit came he spoke words of love to her. She accepted these loving words spoken to her, but she said nothing of it to her parents. The spirits slept the night, then at daybreak, they begged leave to go.
They said, “We’re going tomorrow.”
She and her companions (they were five) went with these fellows, they accompanied them. Now they went accompanying them.
Then their lovers said to them, “My dears, go back, our destination is not pleasant.” For that reason they said, “Go back!”
Then they returned, those four, and she alone remained.
So her lover said to her, “Yombo. Return!”
She replied, “Let’s go there.”
He said, “My destination is not pleasant, for that reason, return!”
“Koo,” she said. “Kpana, your dying place is my sleeping place. No matter where you go, I must go!”
She begged him a long time. He gave her £100.
“Oh,” she said, “I’ll go for sure now.” She said, “Even if you gave me £300, I’d follow you wherever you go.”
So he said, “All right.”
As they were going, this Kpana … all these things he had, these handsome features … behold, he was a Big Thing! His human features, all those features he borrowed, they were finished. As they reached a place, he would go to visit that person and return his own handsome feature. As they reached another place, he would go to visit that person and return his own handsome feature. So he changed back into a spirit. Then they reached deep into his own forest.
Before they arrived at his own place, while that fellow was changing himself, a great fear came over her, but there was nothing to be done about it because they had gone so very far. There was nothing to be done now for her return. So she showed
her womanness, her heart was strengthened now. They traveled far now to that Big Thing’s own place.
At daybreak, this Thing would go to the bush, the hunting place. He’d go there and catch this person, then he’d go back and catch an animal, a bush animal, and he’d come with it.
He would say, “He he,” he would say, “Yombo, Yombo, the smooth one or the hairy one, which do you prefer?”
“Koo,” she said, “Father, we have always eaten the hairy one over there.”
He said, “Then here it is.”
Then she took the hairy one and the Big Thing took the smooth one and ate it. He ate it all.
They stayed there. They sat together, and so they knew each other now. She stayed there and then she bore a child.
That Big Thing, long ago he’d sleep for a year. When he was sleepy he would lie down and he would sleep for one full year, and then he would wake up. (Ah, this stubbornness she had, she would show it again in the same way.) So this Big Thing packed up plenty of things, plenty of food, enough for her for one year; he gathered it all, and he came with it. He packed it all in one house till it was full, because he slept one year before he would wake. Then that Big Thing informed her about that.
“Kwo,” she said, “I don’t agree to stay out alone. We two, let’s go into that house together.”
“Ee,” the Big Thing said to her, “Yombo, this thing I said to you, listen to me.” He said, “I will sleep for one year.”
She said, “Let’s go into that house together, I’ll make that sleep too.” She thought it was a joke he was playing on her.
So they entered that house. She and that Big Thing, they entered that big story-house. It was made of iron, even the window sills. So that Big Thing entered: gbugbuNG gbugbuNG gbugbuNG.
Then all that house was locked, it was finished seNG. Then he went and lay on his bed. When he went and lay on his bed, the Big Thing made this snore: I WILL SLEEP A YEAR, I WILL SLEEP A YEAR, I WILL SLEEP A YEAR. He made that snoring sound. He stayed making this snoring sound a long time. He did so for two months, then for three months. In the fourth month the child in Yombo’s hands became sick. Even though the child was sick in her hands, oh friends, the whole house was locked with iron! Thus, she could do nothing at all to open it. When this child was sick now in her hands, she thought it was a joke this Big Thing was playing on her. Oh yaa. She sang a song to this Big Thing lying there in sleep.
African Folktales (The Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) Page 13