African Folktales (The Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library)

by Roger Abrahams

  Again the cock sent word to the leopard that he, his friend, was coming. The day of the visit, the leopard said to his wife, “The cock is coming today. So tell the people to kill me like a sheep, and give my head to the shepherds.” His wife said, “But you will die.” He said, “Not so.” She said, “All right.” The leopard told her, “Now, when the cock comes and asks for me, say to him, ‘The leopard is waiting for his head which he sent with the shepherds; he is outside the village.’ “Then the people came and laid him down, and one took an axe and cut off his head at the neck, and he died immediately.

  The cock came into the village and greeted the people. When he arrived at the leopard’s house, he said, “Anyone in?” They replied, “We are in.” When he asked, “Where is the leopard?” he was told, “He is waiting for his head outside the village; it has gone with the shepherds.” The cock knew that the leopard was dead. The shepherds returned, the people went and found him dead, and they buried him. His relations completed the mourning, and the cock returned home.

  All the animals said to each other, “Do not make friends with the cock, for he is exceedingly wily.” That is why fowls are not liked by leopards; when leopards find them they eat them.

  —Bondei

  71

  Spider Outwits the Rich Woman

  There was a woman who lived by herself; she had no husband, only her many dogs. Their names were Bangbi, Banga, Nguabakinde, Karawandorkiri, and still others. She crossed a great expanse of water and made her home beyond it, right in the wilderness, with her dogs. She was very rich, she had much of everything—sesame, millet, and also dried meat in a separate granary. She went hunting with her dogs for all kinds of animals, and they caught buffalo, waterbuck, hartebeest, elephant—what big dogs, bigger than lions! She ate meat from her catch all the time.

  When Ture the spider heard about this woman, he came to the edge of this great water and asked himself how he could get to the other side. Then he decided he would twine some cord to set a snare. He went and twined a very long length, and set his snare at the edge of this great water. Then he decided he would try it out, and he put his foot in the noose and it acted as a catapult and threw him to the other side. He said, “That’s fine! I will eat all this woman’s things.” Then, Ture set another snare on the far side and he put his foot in the noose and it threw him back over again. Ture said, “Everything’s ready.” He took his big elephant-hide bag and hung it over his shoulder, he put his foot in the snare and again it lifted him and threw him to the far side, and then he stole to this woman’s home. But he didn’t find her there as she was out hunting with her dogs. Ture went and looked in her granaries and found peanuts in two granaries, sesame in three granaries, dried meat in four granaries, and grain in five granaries—every sort of food, for she was rich. Ture climbed up one granary and gathered up some of her dried meat and crushed it to cook on the fire. He put water for porridge on the fire, and when the meat simmered, he went out and gathered up some of her sesame to cook with it, and when the water for the porridge simmered, he mixed in flour from the grain and then quickly scraped out the porridge from the pot and put it into a bowl, and when that was done he took the meat off the fire. Then he went to sound on that woman’s grindstone, which rang out like a bell, telling her to come. While Ture sounded on it and it spoke, the woman was far away searching for her animals. When Ture sounded on it she heard it and stopped. She stopped and said, “Who sounds on Nawonggowong’s stone?” Ture then played out on the stone: “I am here, I Ture, I sound on Nawongowongo’s stone. It says ‘Wongo Ture, wongo Ture.’ ”

  As soon as she heard what Ture told her on the stone, she sent out her dogs, saying, “O Bangbi, that man who sounds on my stone, you must kill him.” She ran along with them as fast as she could go; they rushed towards the entrance to the courtyard. Ture took the porridge as well as the meat and emptied them into his elephant-hide bag. The dogs saw Ture and they sprinted after him. Ture took the bag and ran to the catapult and it threw him back over the water, and the dogs got to the edge of this great water only in time to see Ture on the other side. Ture stood there and taunted this woman and her dogs, saying, “Look at the food I have stolen from you! What are you going to do to me?” Then Ture departed and this woman collected her dogs and returned her home.

  Ture ate some of the porridge and took some more and went and gave it to that animal, Digdig. When Digdig ate it, it tasted so good to him that he exclaimed, “Oh friend, Ture, where did you find this wonderful food?” Ture replied, “I got it from that woman who lives on the other side of that river over there.” Digdig asked him, “Friend, Ture, the next time you go to eat, you must tell me. I will even go with you tomorrow morning.” Ture agreed to what Digdig said, and replied, “All right, that’s just what I would like to do, so we will go together.” They left early the next morning, and went on and on until they arrived at the edge of this great water. Ture set his snare-catapult and Digdig set one also. And when all was ready, they put their feet in the nooses and were thrown to the other side. They immediately set the snares again so everything would be ready for them to get back over—but, Ture secretly went and loosened Digdig’s. Then they entered the woman’s home and looked for her, but she was away again. They went to her granary and grabbed dried meat and jammed it into a big pot and put it on the fire. When it was simmering they collected grain and pounded it. And when that was done, they roasted it and ground it into flour. They cooked grain flour, and they cooked meats, and all was ready. She still hadn’t come back for she had gone far. Ture went and sounded on her stone so that it would taunt her again, thinking that when she heard it she would come. He sounded on the stone and it called out her name: “Nawongowongo.” She asked, “Who is sounding Nawongowongo’s stone-o?” Ture said: “I am here, I Ture, I sound on it. It says Wongo Ture, wongo Ture!’ ”

  She sent forth her dogs and called out to them, saying, “Look for the one who sounds on my stone.” The dogs rushed ahead towards Ture and Digdig, who quickly emptied the porridge and meat into their bags and ran away. Ture put his foot into his noose, and it threw him to the other side. But when Digdig put his foot into his—oh no! It didn’t throw him to the other side, because Ture had loosened it. The dogs started to pursue Digdig and chased him hotly along the riverbank, and caught him and killed him. Ture stood on this side to watch them, how they treated Digdig on the other side. Ture taunted them, saying, “Since you are killing Digdig because of the lost food, just look at your food in my hands. What can you do to kill me, for there is all that water between me and you. What will you do to catch me?”

  Ture took out some porridge and ate it, and the dogs could only sit there and watch him. He stuffed himself till he could eat no more. Then he put what was left back into the bag and went and showed it to another animal, the large antelope, Red Duiker. Ture gave some to him, and he took it, and when he ate it, it tasted fine to him, and he asked, “Where did you get it?” Ture said, “If you want to come with me and get some more like this, sleep, and just as it is light, come here and we will go to the place I found it.”

  So, Red Duiker slept, and early in the morning he went to Ture’s home, and said, “Let us go.” They traveled till they arrived at the edge of the water, and then they set their snares. When they were ready, they put their feet in them and were thrown to the other side. Then they prepared the new snares to get them back over. Ture and his companion went then to the woman’s homestead, but they did not see her; she was wandering. So they collected dried meat and put it on the fire, and they cooked porridge quickly and took it off the fire, and waited for the meat to be finished. Ture spoke to Red Duiker thus: “I am going to the bush to shit. Stay right here and watch over things.” Ture did not go to the bush, but to spoil Red Duiker’s snare just as he had done before to Digdig’s. Ture returned and once more sounded his taunt on the stone. The woman asked, “Who sounds on Nawongowongo’s stone?” Ture replied on it: “I am here, I Ture, I sound on it. It says ‘Won
go Ture, wongo Ture.’ ”

  Again she sent her dogs, and quickly they came on and on. When they got near, Ture picked up the porridge and poured it into the bag. They saw Ture and they began to chase him and Red Duiker. The mistress of the dogs cried out to them, saying, “You must catch Ture this time!” But when they got near to Ture, he stepped on his snare and again it threw him to the other side. But Red Duiker cried out and trod on his snare in vain, for Ture had loosened it. The dogs chased Red Duiker hotly along the riverbank, on and on, until they caught him. Then the woman shouted out: “Ture, just wait till my dogs get you!” Ture replied from the other side: “Can you cross this great water to catch me?” Ture talked to her from the other side, stuffing himself and taunting her. Then the woman killed Red Duiker and went home with him.

  When he was satisfied, Ture took what food remained and gave it to the small antelope, the Gray Duiker. It tasted good, and the antelope asked where he had found such a nice thing. Ture replied, “Would you like to go with me to get some more?” He said yes. Ture told him: “You sleep. Then very early tomorrow, you come and we will go together.” At dawn, Gray Duiker appeared before Ture, and said, “I have come for that journey we arranged yesterday.” They traveled to the edge of the great water and prepared their snares, and when they were ready, the snares took them to the other side. They went to the woman’s home, but she was out wandering with her dogs. Ture showed Gray Duiker around, saying, “That is the granary for sesame, that is the peanut granary, that is for grain, and that is the one for dried meat.” They gathered up some grain-flour to cook it, and as they were making porridge, Ture said that he was going to the bush, but, of course, it was not to the bush he was going. Ture thought he would be able to deceive Gray Duiker with this lie, but Gray Duiker was no fool. Ture went to loosen Gray Duiker’s snare just as he had loosened Digdig’s and Red Duiker’s. After loosening up the snare, he set his own in order, and then he went back.

  Then Gray Duiker said to Ture that he too had to go to the bush, and Gray Duiker came and saw that Ture’s snare was in good order whereas his own was completely messed up. He left his as it was, though, thinking, “No matter that Ture has spoilt mine, because I will use his instead.” He went back to the homestead, but he said nothing.

  They cooked porridge. And when it was ready, Ture broke off a lump and dipped it into the broth and gave it to Gray Duiker to eat. Gray Duiker said, “Who is going to carry the bag with porridge in it?” Ture answered, “I’ll carry it, of course.” Gray Duiker said, “No you won’t. It is for me to carry it who am a child.” Ture went and sounded on the woman’s stone for her to come. He sounded on it and it spoke as always. The woman asked: “Who sounds on Nawongowongo’s stone?” Ture replied: “I am here, I Ture, I sound on it. It says ‘Wongo Ture, wongo Ture.’ ”

  She herself heard it before her dogs heard it. Ture sounded again and then her dogs heard it, too, and she spoke to her dogs each by name, “Bangbi, Banga, Karawandokiri, Nguabakinde, you run. That man Ture who has been such a thorn in our sides, catch him.” They ran on and on. And as they approached Ture they began to chase Gray Duiker, and he fled right to the place of Ture’s snare, and Ture said, “No, no, that’s not yours!” But Gray Duiker would not listen. He put his foot into Ture’s snare and was thrown to the other side, along with the porridge. Ture looked around in vain for something with which to catapult himself across the water, but there seemed to be no means of escape. When Ture saw Gray Duiker on the other side, he was very angry.

  The dogs started to chase Ture hotly along the riverbank. To escape, he plucked the red fruits of the Kaffir apple, put them over his eyes, took a harp and climbed with it into a tree, and there he made music to enthrall the dogs and their mistress. He played beautifully, looking only upwards, and singing a song:

  Looker-up, I look down,

  All men die, shimmering.

  Looker-up, I look down,

  All men die.

  The woman came with her dogs. She said to Ture, “That’s fine! Man, have you seen here that man Ture?” But Ture did not answer her. She asked him again, “Hey, Man, have you seen Ture?” She did not know that he was Ture, on account of Ture’s deception. She asked Ture once more, and he said to her, “I do not look downwards, I only look up, for if I look down everybody will die.” Ture said to her, “Tie up your huge dogs to a tree. If you don’t tie them to a tree I will look down right now and you will die.” When she heard Ture’s words, she said “Oh, don’t do that. I will tie them to a tree, just don’t look down at me.” So she tied her dogs to a tree, and she went away. It was those huge dogs of hers which Ture feared and therefore he told her to tie them to a tree. Ture then came down from the tree and escaped safely away.

  —Zande

  72

  Softly, Over the Head of the Great

  Leopard and Cat were friends. Leopard gave birth to one child, and Cat to three. When Leopard saw that Cat had so many children, they were no longer on good terms.

  Cat’s three children were in the habit of going for firewood. They also brought her water, went to market, and hunted food for her. Cat herself stayed home and did nothing.

  Leopard’s child was still young. She could do very little for her mother. Leopard went to see Cat. She said, “Now I get up at cockcrow and I go for wood, for water. I work all the time. Lend me one of your children to watch over my daughter, so that I have more time to get food.” Cat promised to send her one.

  Then Cat called her three children together, and said, “Which of you can go to watch over Leopard’s child, without being caught?” The mother asked her eldest son, “How many times must you be annoyed before you are on your guard?” The boy said, “Three times.” She called the second and asked him the same thing. The second said, “Four times.” She called the youngest, and she asked, “My child, how many times must you be annoyed before you are on your guard?” The child answered, “I am not sure, but I think if I am annoyed once, I will be on my guard.”

  When Little Cat said that, Cat said, “Good. You will go to watch over Leopard’s daughter.”

  Little Cat came to Leopard. As they ate that night, Leopard said to him, “Now you are to sleep on the mat over there.”

  When she said that, Little Cat went to sleep high up in the rafters. He left his cloth, however, on the mat just as though he were lying down there. But he went to sleep up high.

  Towards midnight, after they had gone to sleep, Leopard got up and seized the cloth on the mat. Little Cat said, “Mother, what is the trouble?” Leopard said, “Oh, nothing. I was dreaming.” They went back to sleep.

  The next day Leopard said, “Tonight you are to sleep on that stone there.” That was the stone on which they crushed millet and ground nuts. Little Cat lay down beside the stone, but placed his cloth on the stone, just as though he were there himself.

  During the night, Leopard threw herself on the stone, thinking that the cloth was Little Cat. Little Cat said, “What is the trouble, mother?” Leopard said, “I was dreaming again. Where are you sleeping?”

  The following night Leopard said, “Now you are to sleep in my bed, because I am going to be away from home all night, and I will come back late tomorrow. You are to sleep with my child in my bed.”

  Before going out, Leopard gave one cloth to Little Cat, and one to her daughter. Then she went out, and hid near the house. When Little Cat went to sleep he exchanged his cloth for the cloth of Leopard’s daughter, and he also changed places with Leopard’s daughter.

  At night, when Leopard came back softly, softly, she saw Little Cat’s cloth and thought it was he sleeping on the outside, as she had told him. She threw herself at her daughter and devoured her.

  Little Cat said nothing. He had hidden himself above, and watched Leopard. When she finished eating her daughter, Little Cat said, “Why did you eat your daughter? Me, I’m going home to my mother. You told me to come and watch your child. Now that you have eaten your child, I have nothing more to do in your ho
use. I am going home.”

  When he came home, Cat took her children up into the Loko tree, and they took refuge there from Leopard’s anger. They brought with them a cord that reached from the ground to the top of the tree, and with it the mother cat could go up and down whenever she wanted.

  One day Cat left her family and went out. That day Leopard came. Now, whenever Cat went away, she left a gong near the tree, and when she came home, she tapped on it seven times, and the children knew it was their mother, and let down the cord. When Leopard came, she also tapped the gong, but she tapped it eight times, and Cat’s children were not fooled.

  That night Leopard hid behind a tree and waited for Cat to come home, so as to learn how many times to beat the gong. She heard the mother cat give seven strokes, and because Leopard could not count, she clawed marks on a tree, so that she would know the right number.

  The next morning, Cat again went away to find food. Leopard waited a good while after she was gone, and then took up the gong and struck it seven times. The children threw down the cord, and she climbed up. She said, “I see your mother is not home. I came to visit you, what will you give me?”