The Cricket and the Toad
There were once two friends, a cricket and a toad. During the season of the rains they worked together farming. Every day they left their village and walked along the path until they reached the clearing in the bush where they did their farming. They worked hard, turning the ground and preparing it for planting. Every day they took beans and oil to cook and eat when they became tired and hungry.
One day the cricket and the toad found that their supplies of oil were finished and so they could only cook beans. That day they had worked harder than ever before and so they were very tired and very hungry.
“We must rest and eat our beans,” said the toad. “I am sorry that we have no oil today.”
“Make a fire,” replied the cricket. “Put a pot of beans on the fire and I shall make oil.”
The toad made the fire, put the pot of beans on it, and, after instructing the toad what to do, the cricket jumped into the pot. Then the toad did what he had been told and he sang a song:
“Make oil, make oil,
So we may use oil,
While eating our cooked beans.”
The toad repeated the song several times and the cricket made oil from his body. Then the cricket jumped out and he and the toad started eating their meal. Every day the cricket jumped into the pot, making oil for the beans while the toad sang the cricket’s song. Finally, the toad said to the cricket, “Tomorrow I shall make the oil for our beans.”
The next day the two friends went to their farms and they worked as usual. When they were ready to eat, the cricket prepared a large fire and placed a cooking pot almost full of beans on top of the flames. The toad jumped in and the cricket began to sing the song:
“Make oil, make oil,
So we may use oil,
While eating our cooked beans.”
The cricket repeated the song many times, but there was no oil from the toad. Then the fire grew hotter and the toad started to sing:
“Oh, cricket, save me.
For my life’s sake, save me.
I am dying.”
Quickly the cricket began to put out the large fire, but before it was quenched and the toad could be rescued, he had swollen almost to the point of bursting. When the flames had disappeared the toad jumped out, leaving all the beans so burnt that they could not be eaten. He and the cricket had nothing to eat that day. The toad’s body was not only swollen, but also his back was scratched and hard.
Since that time toads are swollen and almost on the point of bursting when they are angry. It is the laughing of the cricket, making jokes at the expense of his friend the toad, which some people say is the sound one hears from the cricket’s hole by night.
The Pig’s search for a Grinding Stone
Here is a story of the tortoise and the pig, two travelling traders. They bought, they journeyed to other markets and they sold what they had bought. But although their activities were the same, they were not equally successful. The pig became rich, while the tortoise grew poor.
Finally the tortoise planned to run away in order to escape from the men to whom he owed money. But the tortoise’s wife had a better idea and she went to see the pig. She told him all about her husband’s troubles.
“Please help us,” begged the tortoise’s wife.
The pig made enquiries and he discovered that what the tortoise’s wife had told him was true. So he lent the tortoise a large sum of money. That night the tortoise and his wife celebrated. The next day they went to the pig to thank him and it was agreed that the money should be returned after twelve months had passed.
The tortoise and his wife bought much food and clothing. They decided that instead of risking failure in their trading they would farm.
“The money from the sale of the crop on the farm,” said the tortoise’s wife, “will be enough to repay the pig.”
But the tortoise was lazy. For months he did nothing. Every day his wife asked when he would start farming and every day the tortoise replied that he would start at some future date. Every day, however, the tortoise would pass the time sitting and talking with his friends and buying coloured cloths and many sweet things to eat and drink.
The end of the twelve months came and there was no farm. Nearly all the borrowed money was gone. The pig sent a servant to ask the tortoise to bring the money, but the tortoise sent back a message saying he was too ill to come. Shortly afterwards the tortoise was cutting firewood when the pig unexpectedly arrived. The pig said he was surprised that the tortoise’s recovery from illness had been so rapid. The tortoise replied that the servant must have given the wrong message. He was too busy, not too ill, to come.
“Very well,” said the pig. “But it is now time for you to repay me my money.”
“I have all but one fraction of the money at the moment,” the tortoise lied. “You will be repaid when I have the full amount.”
“I would be pleased to have all but that fraction now,” said the pig.
“Wait until tomorrow,” the tortoise insisted. “I have some maize which I shall sell in the market.”
The pig agreed and returned to his house, while the tortoise and his wife planned how they might solve their difficulties.
The next day the pig reappeared. He was angry that the tortoise had not come to him already with the money. The tortoise quickly lay on his back with a small stone on his chest so that he looked like a grinding stone.
When the pig entered the tortoise’s house he saw only the tortoise’s wife. She said that her husband had gone out and she did not know when he might be back.
With a cry of anger, the pig seized what he thought was a grinding stone and threw it away into the forest as far as it would go. He did not bother to see where it landed. He did not know he had thrown away the tortoise.
Immediately the tortoise’s wife began to shout and cry.
“This pig has thrown away my grinding stone,” she complained in a loud voice. A crowd of villagers gathered. The tortoise then joined the crowd, pretending that he had just returned from a short walk.
“That grinding stone was a very special one,” said the tortoise to the pig. “It cost me the amount of money you lent to me. Until you find my grinding stone I cannot repay the money you lent me.”
The pig hurried off to the forest but of course he could not find what he was looking for. He looked everywhere. He dug in the ground with his snout. He has been breaking ground and searching ever since.
The Poor Man who became King
In a country of many hills there was a city called the Great City. A poor man lived there whose name was Karang. He had no wife and very little to eat.
Poor Karang begged for his food. People gave him the food they themselves did not want. Karang was a man with a kind, friendly and polite manner. Because of this the people of the city and also the animals liked him.
The king of the Great City owned a very fat cow. He fed the cow so well that it continued to grow fatter and fatter. Karang saw the cow and an idea came to him that would free him from his poverty and begging.
He thought to himself, “I shall ask the king to let me eat that fat cow. In exchange the king can take me as a slave. That will be the end of my difficulties.”
Karang went to the palace of the king. The king was sitting outside. After Karang had greeted him, he told the king his plan. In exchange for eating the king’s fat cow Karang said he would become one of the king’s slaves.
“I agree with this suggestion,” said the king, and he gave orders that the fat cow should be prepared for Karang to eat. “You may eat this cow for three days,” the king said, “and at the end of the third day you will become my own property.”
The cow was cooked and on the first day Karang began to eat. He was eating near a tall tree and in the tree was a bird’s nest in which were some young birds. The little birds were crying for something to eat. Karang gave them some of his own food.
When the mother bird returned to her nest, the young birds r
efused the meat she had brought them.
“Why do you refuse to eat?” she asked and they replied, “Our stomachs are full. The man who is eating the cow beneath this tree has already given us meat.”
The next day Karang was still eating near the tall tree and again he heard the little birds crying for something to eat. Again he gave them some of his own food.
When the mother bird returned to the nest, the young birds again did not wish to eat what she had brought them.
“Has this man fed you again?” she asked, and the young birds replied that he had.
On the third day, the mother bird decided to wait to see the man who had been so kind to her young birds. The young birds cried for food and the man came bringing meat.
“Why have you so much to eat,” the bird asked, “that every day you are able to feed my young birds?”
“The king gave me his fat cow so that I could eat it and then become his slave,” Karang answered.
“When will you become a slave?” asked the bird.
“Today,” the man answered.
Then the bird said, “When you are taken in front of the king of the Great City, you should do the following.”
“What shall I do?” asked Karang.
“Ask the king to let you say your last words of freedom,” the bird continued. “When you are given this chance, you must say, ‘Is this the end of my life as a free man?’ Then, I shall help you.”
Karang returned to what remained of his food from the fat cow and continued to eat until it was time for him to go to the king’s palace. The bird flew to a place where she could watch what was happening.
When Karang was brought to him to be put in chains of bondage, the king was present with all his people.
Karang said, “Please allow me to say my last words of freedom.”
The king and his people said, “Say your last words.”
Karang lifted up his head and cried, “Is this the end of my life as a free man?”
Then a great voice from the sky, which in fact was the bird, came like thunder.
“If anyone enslaves you, Karang, there will be no rain on this country for three years. The crops will die. There will be hunger and starvation.”
The great voice repeated the threat many times.
The people were filled with fear. The king was filled with fear also. He declared, “Is it the poor who are the most powerful? Who am I to be ruling Karang?”
The king gave his title to Karang who became king. The former king was content to serve him. Believing that the sky would answer Karang, the people accepted him as their new king of the Great City.
In his heart Karang was forever grateful to the bird who saved him from slavery and made him a king.
Another Cause of Enmity between the Cat and the Rat
Long ago before cats and rats were enemies, a cat and a rat were on a journey together. They reached the side of a very wide river.
“How shall we cross?” asked the cat.
“We need a boat,” the rat replied.
“There is no boat here,” said the cat.
“In that case,” the rat answered, “we shall have to find something else which can be used as a boat.”
The rat led the way to a nearby yam farm and being an experienced thief, he did not hesitate about going to a ridge and pulling out one of the biggest yams. The rat asked the cat to help and the cat did so.
As they were leaving the farm with the yam, the owner of the farm came upon them. The cat ran up a tree, but the rat ran along the ground and only just managed to escape being caught.
After the farmer had gone, the rat returned and blamed the cat for not carrying him up the tree.
“Let us not quarrel,” said the cat. “Let us make haste to cross the river.”
Then the rat gnawed at the yam until he had made it into the shape of a boat. The two animals launched their yam boat, put in their loads, climbed in themselves, and started to cross the river.
Now the river was very wide and before they had crossed half way the friends had finished the food they had brought and were hungry.
“Let us sleep,” said the rat. “We must try to forget our hunger.”
The cat and rat went to sleep, but soon the rat woke again because of his great hunger. He began to gnaw at the yam boat. After some time the sound of gnawing woke the cat.
“What have you been doing while I was sleeping?” the cat asked. “I heard a peculiar noise.”
“I’ve been doing nothing except sleeping,” the rat answered. “You must have heard me snoring.”
The journey across the river continued. The cat had nothing to eat, but every time he slept the rat would eat more of the boat. At last when they were nearing the other side of the river the rat gnawed a hole in the bottom of the boat and water started to pour in.
“Ah,” cried the cat as he and the rat leapt ashore, “I see how you have been cheating me and endangering my life.”
At once the cat seized the rat in his paws and began to eat him. The taste of the rat was so sweet that he ate him all up. Thus all cats soon began to enjoy eating rats, and from that day they became enemies.
The Singing Bird and the Dancing Farmer
Not so very long ago there lived a farmer whose name was Simon. He was a sensible, hard-working man. Every year at planting-time he cleared his land. He planted yams, maize and cassava, but mainly yams. Thus Simon would see that his family did not go hungry; he and his wife and his many children would always have enough to eat.
Now it was time for preparing the farm again.
“I shall go to the farm today,” he told his wife, “and take a cutlass to start clearing the land.”
Simon left the village and went along a narrow path to the place where he would make his farm.
“Good,” he said to himself. “Here is suitable family land. Here I will grow our next year’s food supply, but before planting I must clear away the underbrush and bushes.”
Simon picked up his cutlass, but he had hardly set to work when he heard the loud, shrill sound of a bird singing. The song was very beautiful, and Simon could not resist the rhythm; flinging down his cutlass he began to dance. At last, when he was quite exhausted, the bird stopped singing. But as soon as Simon picked up his cutlass the song began again and Simon found himself compelled to drop the cutlass and dance. Each time he tried to work the bird started singing and Simon was compelled to dance again and again.
After seven attempts to work Simon became desperate.
“This wicked bird,” he cried. “How can I clear the farm and do my planting?”
Simon ran back to the village. He went to his elderly uncle, a much respected man, and told him the story.
“You are talking nonsense,” said the uncle. But Simon repeated so earnestly how the singing bird was interfering with his work that the uncle suspected there might be some truth in his story.
“Very well,” he said to his nephew, Simon. “We shall go back to the farm and I shall see if what you say is true.”
Simon and his uncle returned to the farm. Simon picked up his cutlass and started clearing. Immediately the bird began to sing high up in a mahogany tree. Once again Simon had to abandon his work and dance.
“Stop, stop,” cried the uncle. “Give me your cutlass.”
He gave his uncle the cutlass. The uncle began clearing the bushes and the underbrush. At once, the bird began to sing again. The uncle found himself caught by the song. Throwing down the cutlass he started to dance and could only rest when the singing stopped.
“This is very serious,” said the uncle. “We must go back to the village and inform the Chief.”
They hurried back along the path, past other farms already cleared and planted. When they reached the village they went to the Chief’s big house. They were taken to the veranda where he was sitting on a carved and decorated wooden chair.
“Oh, Chief,” said Simon, bowing politely, “I have a terrible thing to report.”
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br /> “What terrible thing?” asked the chief.
“My family and I,” replied Simon, “will soon starve to death. A singing bird is preventing me from preparing my farm.”
“What foolish talk is this?” the Chief exclaimed in an angry voice. But after Simon had told his story the Chief was angrier than ever. “You are bothering me with something I cannot believe.”
Then Simon’s uncle, who was much respected for his age and wisdom, asked permission to speak.
“What Simon says is true,” he said, and explained how he himself had tried to work and how the singing bird had made him dance instead. “If you go to that farm,” the uncle concluded, “you too will dance.”
For several minutes the Chief sat silently but in deep thought. Suddenly he stood up.
“There is a mystery here,” he said. “We will go to that farm.”
So the Chief, the Chief’s chair carrier carrying the carved and decorated chair, Simon’s uncle and Simon himself all went out of the village and along the path to Simon’s farm. The bird was still sitting high up in the mahogany tree.
The Chief sat down on his chair. “Start working,” he ordered Simon. Simon took up his cutlass and had hardly set to work when the bird began to sing. Throwing down the cutlass Simon began to dance and dance until he was exhausted.
Next the Chief ordered Simon’s uncle to start work. The uncle took up his cutlass and had hardly set to work before the bird began to sing. Throwing down the cutlass the uncle began to dance.
“I am a Chief,” the Chief cried. “Birds cannot rule me.” Jumping up from his chair he seized the cutlass and began clearing the bushes. Immediately the bird began to sing. For several seconds the Chief resisted and then he threw down the cutlass and danced until the bird stopped singing.
West African Folk Tales Page 11