Chapter I: Front Matter (1)

FAIRY TALES
FROM SOUTH AFRICA

COLLECTED FROM ORIGINAL NATIVE SOURCES
AND ARRANGED BY

Mrs. E. J. BOURHILL
AND
Mrs. J. B. DRAKE

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY

W. HERBERT HOLLOWAY

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON

1908

TO ALL CHILDREN WHO STILL LOVE FAIRY TALES

All the stories in this book are real Fairy Tales, just as much as “Jack the Giant-Killer” or “The Sleeping Beauty.” By this I mean that they are traditional, handed down by word of mouth. Nobody knows how old they are, or who told them first. But little Kafir children sit round the fire at night and hear them from their old grandmother, and sometimes—but very very seldom—white people are allowed to hear them too. You see, the Kafirs are afraid white people would laugh at them, and so they will only begin if they are quite sure you are really interested. Even then they never like to tell the tales by daylight, for they say that if they do so a wicked spirit will cause a horn to grow out of the middle of their forehead, and they will become as ugly as an Imbula. [1] Sometimes they can be persuaded, but then they always take a piece of grass and place it in their hair to ward off evil lest they be bewitched. But the best time to hear the tales is in the evening when all the work is done. Then a huge fire is made, and when all the children have played till they are tired, and sung and danced till they can remember no more songs to sing, they gather in a circle and lie upon the ground where they can best see the story-teller. And if the Kafir people were quite sure you would be interested and wouldn’t laugh, they would give you the best seat of all and let you hear the finest tales. All the Kafir children know the tales as we know ours, but not all can tell them well. When many people are there the best story-teller will be asked to come forward. Most often it is a woman with children and grandchildren of her own, whom everybody knows well. She sits in the firelight, and begins quite quietly. But soon she gets excited, and before long she acts the whole story before you. She does it so well that if I were to tell you just the name of the story you could follow it without knowing a word of the language. One favourite tale is that which we have called “The Beauty and the Beast,” and there are ever so many different versions of this story. Other well-known ones are “Nya-nya Bulembu,” “The Fairy Frog,” and “The Fairy Bird.”

The little black children all open their eyes with horror when the monster appears, and you cannot think how glad they are to remember there are no ogres nowadays who have long red hair and kill and eat little girls. I don’t think such people ever really existed anywhere, not even in Kafir-land. They are just like our fairies and ogres; nobody knows who first thought of them.

But there used to be many bad Kings, like Semai-mai, who made their subjects unhappy, and much fighting took place in former days. For all these stories come from the olden times, when there were no white settlers in the country, and when the Kafirs lived alone and followed their own customs. They did not have one great King over all, but were broken up into tribes, and each tribe had its Chief, who was sometimes called its King. That is why there are so many Kings and Princes and Princesses in the tales. They were much commoner then than in our days.

These tribes often fought against one another. The great aim of every Chief was to have plenty of men to do his bidding, and plenty of cattle in his kraal; and if his neighbour were better off, he often tried to steal from him. You will notice that the Princes in these tales did not think of conquering new lands to occupy, as we should, but they all wanted men to fight for them. It seems as if, in South Africa, there was always plenty of land, but never enough men and women to occupy it. There was no money then, but a man’s riches were counted by the number of his cattle and his wives.

In peaceful times the Kafir men do very little except look after the cattle. This the women have nothing to do with; they must not so much as touch the bowls in which milk has been placed. In the old times fighting was very frequent, so that a Kafir Chief was not so lazy as many people seem to think. Still, to fight, to look after cattle, and now and then to set the foundations of a hut, were the only occupations he had. His women-folk tilled the land, fetched water and wood, and saw to the cooking. They also thatched the huts, and made the most beautiful fences of woven reeds. You see, they were often left alone for weeks and months while the men were away hunting or fighting, so they had to be able to help themselves.

A Kafir Chief usually had many wives; this was considered due to his position, but the wife he married first remained the chief lady in his kraal and ruled the others. They each had their own hut and managed their own affairs, but of course there were often many quarrels. Poorer men had one or two wives only. You see, it was expensive to have many; for every woman had to be paid for with a certain number of cattle. This payment was called the “lobola,” and no marriage was legal without it. This does not sound a very good custom, but it worked well in practice. Savage people are often very unkind to baby girls because they cannot fight, but among the Kafirs they were always well treated. The daughters were valuable to their father because of the dowry they would bring him, and the husbands thought all the more of their wives because they had cost them something.

Most of these stories were told by Swazis, others by Zulus, and two by the tribes which live on the Portuguese border in the low, wooded country. “The Shining Princess” came from the Mapoch Kafirs, who formerly lived in the north. None of the people who tell them lived on what is called the high veld. A Kafir loves country with plenty of wood and water, and he likes to build his hut in some green valley on a well-drained slope facing the morning sun. Such country is found in Natal and the eastern parts of Cape Colony, and again in Swaziland and the Eastern Transvaal. In summer there are marvellous wild flowers and abundant green grass, and in every mountain valley there are clear streams bordered with luxuriant ferns and overshadowed with beautiful evergreen trees. All the rain falls in summer amidst continuous thunderstorms, and it is often very hot. In winter no rain falls for four or five months; the sky is clear and shining and the nights are cold, but by day the sun makes everything pleasantly warm.

The Kafir people still live and flourish in this country. They no longer make war on one another, for the white people oblige them to dwell in peace. So now their customs are slowly changing. The women are gradually ceasing to hoe the lands in the old fashion, and the men are beginning to plough with oxen; it seems as if in time they will become tillers of the soil like men in other lands. These stories may soon be forgotten; so we have written them down for your amusement before it is too late and no one tells them any more.

Barberton, Transvaal,
April 1908.

CONTENTS

PAGE
I. Setuli; or, the King of the Birds 1
II. The Story of the King’s Son and the Magic Song 18
III. The Story of the Little Birds who lived in a Cave 28
IV. The Story of the Shining Princess 32
V. The Rabbit Prince 43
VI. The Unnatural Mother 58
VII. The Three Little Eggs 66
VIII. The Serpent’s Bride—Part I. 78
IX. The Serpent’s Bride—Part II. 99
X. The Fairy Bird 115
XI. The Cock’s Kraal 132
XII. Baboon-Skins 139
XIII. The Reward of Industry 151
XIV. The Story of Semai-mai—Part I. 160
XV. The Story of Semai-mai—Part II. 171
XVI. The Fairy Frog 187
XVII. Nya-nya Bulembu; or, the Moss-green Princess 198
XVIII. The Enchanted Buck 212
XIX. The Beauty and the Beast 224
XX. The White Dove 237

ILLUSTRATIONS

“The old woman continued to gaze at Setuli, and said three times in a loud voice, ‘Speak!’” Frontispiece “He turned to the mountain-side and shouted, ‘Men, appear!’” To face page 17 “They climbed and climbed till they were above the clouds” 49 “She came in sight of an enormous hut” 72 “She ... threw them down a rocky precipice” 121 “Such was their strength and ferocity that but two or three escaped alive out of the whole regiment” 137 “It was a very old woman, leaning on an immense assegai” 183 “Suddenly a flock of rock-pigeons ... seized the beautiful Princess and carried her away” 204

I

SETULI; OR, THE KING OF THE BIRDS

A SWAZI TALE

Many, many years ago there lived a poor man, named Setuli, who was deaf and dumb. He had never been able to speak, or understand anything but signs from his birth, and was despised by all his brothers and sisters.

Although he was the son of a powerful Chief, no one so much as looked at him, and he could never hope to win a bride or have a home of his own. He had but one friend, an elder brother, who gave him food and shelter, and was always kind to him. This brother was already old, and was known as a great magician; he knew the properties of every herb, and the wonderful powers possessed by birds and beasts. When he went to search for magic roots he always took Setuli with him, for he found his eyes were quicker than those of any man in the country-side, and his fingers more deft.

One day in Spring, when the first rains had fallen and green shoots were showing among the dry grass, the two brothers went out to gather roots as usual. They travelled far into the mountains till they reached a narrow valley full of trees just bursting into leaf. A clear stream ran down one side among great boulders, ferns were just uncurling their early fronds, and in sheltered nooks big scarlet daisies shone like tiny suns. The old magician and Setuli set to work at once, for here many rare plants flourished. They had been at work an hour or more when a swarm of beautiful black birds with long waving tails came towards them, flying in a zigzag course. They settled on the low bushes, swinging up and down on the branches, and balancing their long tails.

The two brothers both looked up, and in a grave voice the old magician said to the birds, “Sakobulas, [2] we go to sleep and we get up as we used to do.” This was the magic greeting they expected. I cannot tell you what it meant, but when the sakobulas heard it, they flew away quite satisfied. The two brothers went on digging, and moved farther up the stream. Then a great swarm of dear little rooibekkies [3] suddenly appeared, tiny little brown birds with pink breasts and bright red bills. They fluttered all round, chattering gaily.

The old magician again looked up. “Mantsiane,” [4] said he, “we go to sleep and we get up as we used to do”; and the rooibekkies flew away quite satisfied. Then the two brothers went on digging again, and worked for a long time. All at once there rushed upon them an immense flight of the most beautiful birds, shining from head to foot with glorious yellow plumage. Round their necks showed a ring of velvety black, and there were black feathers in their wings.

“Follow us up! Follow us up!” they cried to the two brothers. “These are orioles,” said the old magician; “without doubt some great adventure is before us.” He signed to his brother to leave the roots and follow the birds.

They travelled over the mountains for three days and three nights, following the golden birds. On the morning of the fourth day the birds led them down a steep mountain-side to a deep green valley through which ran a wide stream. The birds followed the stream till they came to a deep clear pool under the shadow of great trees. It was very cool and very still. Tall reeds and big white lilies grew all round the water’s edge, and over the pool itself were hundreds of water-lilies, white and purple.

The golden birds turned to the magician and said, “Bring your brother here and tell him on no account to be afraid, no matter what may happen to him. He must wait by the edge of the pool amongst the reeds and lilies.”

The elder brother fetched Setuli and made him understand what was wanted of him. Then he went away and left his brother alone, wondering what this new adventure would bring.

Now, though Setuli had always been despised and set aside by all his relations, he was in reality both wise and brave. He sat down at the water’s edge and remained perfectly still. Suddenly the waters moved, and up rose a huge alligator. It came straight towards him, lashing its great tail and opening its huge jaws. Its teeth glistened in the sun, and as it walked up the bank it snapped at Setuli and blinked its wicked little eyes. But Setuli sat perfectly still and pretended not to notice. The alligator thrust its long nose almost in his face, snapped its jaws once more, and then, seeing he showed no sign of fear, turned tail and slipped into the pool again.

Setuli remained sitting, waiting to see what would happen next. For a little while the pool was still; then the whole of the waters moved and out came a huge ogre, far more hideous and terrible than the alligator. He was covered with eyes and glared with every one of them at the deaf man. Then he roared fiercely and sprang towards him; but still Setuli did not move so much as an eyelid. The ogre shouted again, and then disappeared, like the alligator before him.

After that there was no sound or motion for many hours. Setuli sat watching by the pool. Just as he began to think nothing more would happen, the water moved quietly and out came a Fairy in the shape of an old woman. She stood in the waters up to her waist and gazed at Setuli. On her right hand there perched a beautiful black sakobula, on her left hand a little rooibekkie, and on her head was a most wonderful oriole, bright as the rising moon. The old woman continued to gaze at Setuli, and said three times in a loud voice, “Speak!”

When she uttered the third word Setuli felt a new power had come to him. He could speak like other people, and he could understand all the Fairy said.

“Go to your brother,” said she, “and show him you are cured. I have known both of you long and have determined to help you. Whatever you want in the future you shall receive; you have only to ask for it.” The Fairy vanished, and the three birds flew away.

Setuli soon found his brother, and the old man’s astonishment was great when he heard the deaf man speak. Setuli in his turn was much surprised to find the three swarms of birds again, just as he had left them on his journey out. They flew in three separate companies, and at the head of each company was one more beautiful than the others, evidently the leader. Setuli soon saw these were the very birds who had accompanied the Fairy; no doubt she had sent them for his use. He thought deeply for a time and then made new plans. The result you shall soon hear.

The two brothers journeyed on till they saw a great storm rising. The sky was blue-black, and a noise could be heard like continuous thunder.

“That is hail,” cried the magician; “we shall be caught here in the open. Nothing can save us from death.”

“Do not fear,” said Setuli; “wait and you shall see.” He gave a command and instantly one thousand huts appeared. His brother gazed in astonishment and delight. Then he said, “What do we want with so many huts? There is no one to shelter but you and me.”

“I shall want huts for my soldiers and people,” said Setuli. Then he turned to the companies of birds and changed them all with one word into warriors. The sakobulas became his first regiment. They were great tall men clad in leopard skins, holding in their hands assegais [5] and huge shields of ox-hide. But one thing remained of their former state. Each man wore on his head a huge cap of the long tail-feathers of the sakobula. They stood in line, saluted their Chief, and marched to their huts. Then came the golden orioles. These were Setuli’s bodyguard, and were even finer than the sakobulas. Their skins were of the silver jackal; round their knees and arms were bracelets of white ox-tails, and on their heads were long black ostrich-plumes. Before them stood the golden oriole, bright as the rising moon, now the general in command next to Setuli himself. Last of all came the rooibekkies. These became the little umfaans, the lads who carry all the baggage of the army and wait on the grown men. Setuli sent them all to their huts just as the first hailstones struck the ground.

For an hour no one stirred. The sound of the storm was like continuous roaring thunder; the hailstones were as large as great plums, jagged and sharp as crystals. Every tree was stripped of its leaves and all birds and beasts who could not find shelter were killed or maimed. When the storm ceased the hail lay in icy heaps in every hollow, and the air was frosty and cold as in mid-winter on the high mountains. A raw mist rose from the valleys, but Setuli felt no cold. His heart was great within him, for now he had proved his powers. He called out his troops once more and reviewed them with joy and pride. “We shall go forth and conquer a great kingdom,” he said to his brother. “I shall yet be a rich man.”

The regiments shouted “Bayeta,” the salute which is given only to the Chief, and swore to follow wherever Setuli led. Generals were appointed for each division of the army, the three leaders being the birds who sat on the Fairy’s hands. There was no trouble about provisions or shelter, for Setuli had only to ask for food and there was abundance for all.

He now determined to search for a kingdom to conquer. He left the country of mountains and wooded valleys, and went up to the great tableland to search for new people to overcome. He travelled with his army for a year, but never saw so much as one little hut. The land was empty; on every side was waving grass extending as far as eye could reach, but no path appeared nor any tree. Great herds of buck sometimes came towards them and then followed fine hunting; but no man or woman could they find though they travelled for many months. At last they turned back towards the low country, and at the end of a year they came to a range of mountains overlooking an immense plain. Below they saw great cities surrounded by fields full of mealies. [6] Thousands of cattle roamed on the hills; they had but to descend and seize all they wanted.

Setuli bade his men camp in a great valley which could not be seen from the plain. Then he sent spies to find out how strong the cities were and how big was the King’s army. But first his brother the magician gave them a wonderful potion which made them invisible, so that no one should suspect them. In the evening they returned in great fear. “The people,” cried they, “are all deaf and dumb; they have but one arm, and walk on one leg only. Not only that, but as soon as we approached them we found we were becoming deaf and dumb also, so we ran back as quickly as possible.”

This troubled Setuli very much. “Don’t go near these people,” said he. “Let us get right away from the towns and go hunting in the mountains.”

Now Setuli was very wise, and had besides the advice of his brother, the great magician. He had determined to take possession of all the inhabitants of this country and drive away all their cattle, but he felt sure some powerful monster ruled over them who would first have to be discovered and destroyed. The only thing to do was to devise some means of attracting him to the camp and killing him unawares. A big hunt was arranged, and an immense number of birds were taken of all shapes and colours. Setuli drew a feather out of the tail of every bird and made a huge many-coloured ball, which he wore as a head-dress and as a protection for himself, for magic power was in the feathers. Then he allowed preparations to be made for the great feast which followed the hunt, but gave special directions to his men.

“Do not eat all the birds,” he said. “Place half of those you have killed in front of the huts. Put first a whole bird, then the head of a bird you have eaten, in long rows all round the camp, and then put a treble row about my own hut.”

The men carried out these commands carefully, and soon the whole camp was surrounded with dead birds of every hue and shape. When all the feasting was over and the camp quite still, Setuli crept out of his hut and hid behind the screen which sheltered the entrance. It was full moon, and the country shone like silver. Sharp inky black shadows showed near the river where the bushes grew, and round each hut was a dark narrow ring in which no object was visible. Setuli crouched behind his screen of reeds; the camp was absolutely still and deserted. Towards midnight he heard heavy footsteps approaching. Every now and then they stopped, then they began again. Setuli stooped lower; without doubt the monster who owned all the cities in the plain was approaching. The footsteps were not even; they resembled some one hopping very heavily. Presently a huge black figure came in sight, holding a long assegai. He had but one leg and one arm, and stopped greedily at every hut to eat the birds which lay there. As he came nearer, Setuli saw that he was of unimaginable ugliness. His eyes were divided; one was in the middle of his forehead and the other at the back of his head, so that whichever way he stood he saw you, and you could not escape him. At the entrance of Setuli’s hut he stopped, gave a snarl of delight at the sight of so many birds, and sat down to enjoy them.

He had but one arm, so he laid his assegai down just before the door-screen. Setuli asked for no better chance; he rose quickly, seized the assegai and stabbed the monster in the neck. He rolled over with a groan and lay quite still, apparently dead.

With a joyous heart Setuli roused all his men, and at break of day led them into the great plain. To their surprise they found the people walking on two legs and talking as well as themselves. The death of the ogre relieved the people from the bonds of a wicked enchantment, and they were only too glad to go with Setuli and his men, they and all their cattle. By evening all was in order for the march, and at earliest dawn the company started for the mountains.

They had gone a whole day’s journey, and had reached a point high above the great plain, when Setuli discovered that he had lost his ball of feathers. He did not wish to turn his followers back, but neither could he bear to travel farther without his head-dress, for it had magic power, and it might be long before he could get such another. So he bade his army go on under the leadership of his brother, and went down the mountain-paths as fast as possible till he came to the valley in which they had camped. There he saw a sight which made his heart stand still. The ogre whom he had left for dead was sitting up alive and well, and round him danced and romped hundreds of little ogres, all with one leg and one arm like their father. They tossed the magic ball of feathers from one to another and shouted with glee.

Setuli saw he must risk all and trust to his swift feet to get away. He ran in suddenly, seized the ball of feathers, and turned quickly away up the mountain-path. As he touched the ball, all the little ogres vanished like smoke. Only the big one remained, and for a moment he was dazed and did not understand what had happened. Then he got up and stamped after Setuli with astonishing speed. It was all Setuli could do to keep the distance between them, but he was strong and knew the paths. They leapt from rock to rock, in and out among the trees, till they came to the grassy slopes which led to the great pass. They climbed all day till the sun began to set. Then at the very top of the mountain range Setuli found his army camped along the side of a deep ravine. Below was a valley many hundreds of feet deep, lined with huge rocks and great trees. Beyond, many weary hours away, rose another mountain with green slopes marked with the course of many streams.

“Bayeta!” cried the army when they saw their Chief. “My men,” cried Setuli, “we have not a moment to lose. Our enemy is behind us and we shall soon be in his hands. Let every man, woman, and child fix his eyes on the mountain-side opposite and then leap with all his might.”

Setuli could hear his enemy behind him as his people leapt together into the air. He ran forward, touched the cattle with his ball of feathers, and they too jumped with all their might. All landed safely on the other side, and placed the great ravine between them and the terrible ogre. Setuli jumped last, just as the monster, breathless and exhausted, reached the edge of the precipice.

Twilight set in, and when the sun rose next morning Setuli and all his people found themselves in perfect safety, and set forth once more on their journey. They travelled all day, and at sunset came to the most beautiful valley they had ever beheld. It lay far below them, wide, green, and fertile. Down its centre flowed a clear stream shaded by great tree-ferns, and bordered with thick green bushes covered with scarlet flowers. The valley extended as far as eye could see towards the setting sun; all the hills on either side were closely wooded and well watered. Setuli turned to his brother and said, “This is the finest country I have ever seen. We will settle here with all our men.”

At the end of the valley was a very large kraal wherein dwelt the Chief of the country. Setuli determined to win him over to his side and make him his man.

So he took his bodyguard and marched down the mountain-paths to the gate of the kraal. Just as they approached the Chief’s hut he struck every one of his men on the leg with his magic assegai. They at once began to walk every man on one leg.

“Never have I seen such magic power,” said the Chief. “You shall be our King and protect us against all our enemies.”

“I will show you yet more marvels,” said Setuli. He struck his men once more and they all walked like ordinary human beings. While the Chief still stared in open-mouthed wonder, he turned to the mountain-side and shouted, “Men, appear!”

Instantly from top to bottom of the great hill stood line upon line of magnificent warriors, clad in leopard skins and holding white shields. They lifted their right hands and shouted “Bayeta!” so that the cry echoed like thunder from side to side of the valley.

Then Setuli shouted once more, “Men, disappear!” and at once the hillside was empty and silent.

“You see,” said Setuli, “I have men at my command whenever we need them.”

“You shall certainly be our King,” cried all the people. So Setuli and his brother and all the men and women who belonged to them stayed in the valley, and lived in great peace and happiness all their lives long.

II

THE STORY OF THE KING’S SON AND THE MAGIC SONG

A SWAZI TALE

Once upon a time there lived among the mountains a great King; and he had many cattle, which he loved. Among them was a fairy ox, with horns which curled right across his forehead, and with a voice like thunder; this ox led the herd, and at his call all the cattle followed him. In the day-time they fed in the tall grass in the valley, and at night they were brought home to the big kraal, round which were the huts of the King and all his men, so that they might be safe from any harm. And the fence of the kraal was strong and high, and the men watched so that no evil befell the cattle.

Now the King loved the cattle so much that he made one of his own sons herdsman. Every morning this boy took the cattle to graze in the pasture, and at sunset he drove them back to the kraal. All day, in the hot sunshine, he watched the herd to see that none strayed and were lost, and to take care that no enemy came in to steal. And because the grass in summer grew tall, high above his head, and thick, so that he could not see, he would climb on to one of the great rocks that lay scattered about the valley. For the rocks were large, large as a hut, and in the shadow beneath them it was cool and the little rock-ferns grew; but on the top, where the sunlight fell, the little lizards lay and caught flies.

Often the boy grew tired as he watched the herds, and longed to lie in the warm sun and sleep; but he dared not, for he feared his father’s anger if he should lose him an ox.

But it happened one day that as he watched the cattle a Fairy appeared to him in the shape of a very old woman. She came and talked to him, and he told her how he had always watched lest the cattle strayed, and how he feared lest his father’s foes should come and kill him and take the cattle.

Then the Fairy pointed to a stone, smooth and large and round, like a hut that showed up above the grass of the valley. The boy looked, for he had never seen the stone before. “Come,” she said, “this is your stone. See, it is so smooth that no one can keep his footing on it or climb it. But you shall be able. As you grow the stone will grow, and from it you can watch all the valley, and no enemy will be able to hurt you, for they could not climb it. But beware that you do not fall asleep on it, for then all your cattle will be stolen.”

She also taught him a magic song, “Come, cattle, come, all you cattle come to me,” the melody of which was so enchanting that all cattle who heard it followed the singer. Then the Fairy vanished away.

So the boy became a splendid herdsman, and none of his cattle were lost, for every evening he sang to them and they followed him to the kraal, and none strayed. Nor could any be stolen, for on the rock he watched in safety. But at last one hot day he fell asleep on the rock, and the enemy who were watching saw him sleeping, and crept down from the hills and drove off all the cattle. When he woke up not one head of cattle could he find. He sang “Come, cattle, come,” but it was in vain; they did not hear him. He wandered about the valley looking and singing till the sun began to set, and then in shame and fear went to the kraal alone. He went to his father and told him all, but the old King was very angry and drove him from the kraal, saying, “Never come back unless you bring my cattle with you.”

So the poor boy wandered back sadly to the valley, and climbed upon the big stone and lay there in the moonlight crying, for he had lost his cattle and he had lost his home. And as he lay some one touched him, and he looked up and saw the old woman, the Fairy, who had given him the stone and taught him the charm. “I know what has happened,” she said; “you have slept, and what I foretold has come to pass—the cattle are gone.” “And I am driven from the kraal till I find them,” he said, and cried again. “Do not despair,” she said, “but go to the Chief who has your cattle and ask to be his man.”

So the boy rose, and all night long under the moon he travelled between the grey mountains, up and down by little winding paths between the grass and rocks, through the streams and bushes, till in the morning, when the sun rose, he came to his enemy’s kraal, and within it he heard his father’s cattle.

So he entered the kraal and went to the Chief and offered to be his man, and the Chief made him herdsman of his own cattle. Every morning he took them out to pasture and every evening he sang to them the magic song and brought them home, and none strayed and were lost. Thus he served the Chief many years, till he was a man full grown. And always he thought of his father’s kraal, and looked how he might take the cattle and return. At last the chance came. The great festival of the first-fruits was at hand. The women made the beer, placed the calabashes in a row outside the kraal, and on the day appointed the men and women went out to gather the first ripe maize and Kafir corn from the lands, and the children went to get wood for the cooking of the feast, and no one was left in the kraal but an old woman and the King’s son, who was in charge of the cattle.

When all were gone he took some sango, the herb that intoxicates men and makes them sleep, and powdered it very fine. Then he went to the row of calabashes in which the beer stood waiting for the evening’s feast, and put some into each calabash, and went away and waited till all came back.

When the Chief and his people returned there was great rejoicing. A hut of green boughs was made for the Chief, in which he sat, and the first-fruits were all brought to him, and a branch from each offering was tied to his arms or neck. Then his wise men brought him a drink made of herbs and water from the sea, and gave it to all present as a sign that the feast was to begin. Every one ate of the new corn and the fresh nuts, and drank of the new beer. Only the King’s son drank none, and at last all fell asleep; and when the evening came and the moon rose not a man or woman was left awake.

Then the King’s son stood up and climbed on the wall of the cattle kraal, and sang the magic song, “Come, cattle, come to me,” and opened the gate of the kraal. At once the cattle rose up and walked straight past the huts and the sleeping men and out into the country, following the King’s son; and as they went the fairy ox with the crumpled horn bellowed loudly, and at his call all the cattle came from the east and the west and the south, [7] and followed the King’s son.

And he went towards his father’s kraal.

When his enemies woke in the morning they could not find one head of cattle in their kraal, nor yet in all the surrounding country. The old Chief felt sure when he heard this that the King’s son had taken them away, and he bade all his men arm themselves and follow the culprit. So his men gathered with their shields of ox-hide and their assegais, and, finding the path of the oxen, followed it. It did not take them long to overtake the King’s son, for the cattle moved slowly; and by the evening of the second day they were in sight of the cattle, and rejoiced over the thought of their capture.

The King’s son, who saw his enemies moving on the mountains behind him, was in great fear and knew not what to do, for the cattle could not travel fast. He led them down the mountain along the banks of a little stream where the trees grew—tall thick thorns with yellow flowers like small pincushions, and wild figs with tiny fruit—and tall reeds covered the banks, and from the trees the monkey ropes hung down to the rocks and water. And everywhere grew the fern, and the clear water ran and raced between the stones, slipping from pool to pool and playing with the leaves and rushes; and the bright flies hung over it in the little ladders of sunlight slanting through the trees. And there the King’s son hid his cattle amongst the bush, and sat in the grass under a big fig-tree to think what he should do.

But he could think of no way to save the cattle. And the evening drew on, and the shadow rose over the creek [8] and crept up the mountain-side; and the frogs began to croak and the crickets to sing, and everywhere was the humming of the gnats. And he sat under the fig-tree and looked across the valley to the mountain where his enemies were; and he knew that in the morning they would come and kill him and take his cattle.

A bat flitted round him in the darkness, so near that he looked up, and there before him he saw the Fairy. “Do not despair,” she said; “your task is nearly done. Obey me and all shall be well. Go now and kill a white ox, skin it, and cut the hide into ten thousand little white shields, and I will find you soldiers.” So he slew the ox and skinned it and made of the hide ten thousand little white shields.

Then the Fairy cried to the frogs who lived near the stream, sitting under all the stones from the top of the hill to the bottom, and whose voices could be heard all across the valley. “Frogs!” she cried, “will you take these shields and do as the King’s son bids you?” And from all over the valley they cried, “We will!” So the King’s son gave them the shields, and all night long he drilled them in the moonlight. When he called “Woo-ooh,” they rose up, shouting, with their shields extended; and when he cried “Boo-ooh,” they fell down and lay hidden.

Before the dawn he placed them in a long line on the mountain-side where the enemy would see them.

As the first company of the enemy appeared the frogs rose together, raised their shields, and croaked “Woo-ooh,” with a sound like thunder; so great, indeed, was the sound that the enemy fell back to their Chief in terror. “There is an impi [9] of many thousand men across the creek,” they said; “no one can stand against them.”

The Chief then sent a larger company, but they returned with the same tale.

Then he went himself with all his army; but when he saw the thousands of white shields and heard the war-cry, fear seized his heart. “It is better to return without our cattle than lose our lives,” he said, and ordered all to go back home again.

So the King’s son was safe. He thanked the frogs, gathered his cattle together and reached his father’s kraal. The King received him with great honour, gave him a Princess for his wife, and made him Chief of all his sons; but every night the King’s son sang his magic song as before, and kept the cattle in safety.

III

THE STORY OF THE LITTLE BIRDS WHO LIVED IN A CAVE

A ZULU NURSERY TALE

Once upon a time there was a big cave in a hillside, in which lived hundreds of little birds. There were fathers and mothers and lots of little ones. Each had his little kraal with a hut no bigger than your hand, and a fence all round beautifully woven of tiny reeds. One day all the mothers went out to get food, and said to their little ones, “Be very good and quiet, and make the huts clean and tidy while we hoe the lands.”

Then they went out to see to their tiny fields in which they grew their food—little mealies and tiny sugar-cane, pumpkins no larger than a nut, and nuts no bigger than grass seeds. The little birds were very good; they swept the huts out beautifully and tidied them up. Then they cleaned little shells ready to cook the food, and got water in tiny leaves. When all was done they sat down and waited for their parents to arrive.

Suddenly a blackbird came to the door of the cave. He had a long sharp beak and very long claws. He put his head in and cried, “Fir-r-r-r! Fir-r-r-r!” first to one side and then to the other in a high clear voice. All the little birds put their heads out of the tiny huts at once to see who the intruder might be.

The big bird then said, “All you little birds must turn out at once. This cave belongs to me.”

At that the little birds were very angry. The boldest of them flew straight at the blackbird to turn him out, but he was pecked right in the neck. A little stream of blood appeared, as black as charcoal, and the little bird fell dead.

Then the big bird attacked many others. He broke the leg of one, he picked out the eyes of another, he broke the wing of a third. When he had frightened and scattered them all he flew away.

That evening the mother birds came home, but could not make out why the cave was so silent. “What is wrong?” they said. “There is no twittering, no rustling of wings. Something must have happened.”

Great was their grief when they found one little bird dead and so many others crippled and hurt. “Whoever has done all this?” they cried. Then the little birds told their tale.

“It was a wicked bird with black feathers and a long beak. There he is again at the door.”

The mothers turned round and flew in a body at the marauder. But he just cried “Fir-r-r-r! Fir-r-r-r!” and flew straight up in the air far out of their reach.

The next day the blackbird came and destroyed all their little lands. Not a blade of mealies or sugar-cane remained. The mothers were in despair, and that evening they said they must leave the cave and find a safer home elsewhere.

Suddenly a tiny bird entered the cave, no bigger than your finger-nail. He cried “Tweet, Tweet,” ever so sweetly, and flew straight to a little bird who was only a hen. “You,” said he, “shall kill the blackbird.”

Every one cried out that the little bird was not nearly strong enough.

“You shall kill him,” said the tiny bird. “Fly straight at his head and pick out his eyes. Then you can easily kill him.”

The little hen took heart of grace and promised to be brave.

Next morning the big bird, sure that this time the cave would soon be his, put his head in at the door and called in his high wicked voice, “Fir-r-r-r! Fir-r-r-r!”

Out flew the little hen straight at his head and picked out his eyes before he knew what had happened. Then the fathers and mothers all threw themselves on him and in a few minutes he was dead.

After that all the families lived in much peace and happiness, and were never troubled any more.

IV

THE STORY OF THE SHINING PRINCESS

A ’MSUTO STORY

In a green valley far away among the mountains there was once a most beautiful kraal. The hut was bright green, finely thatched with grass, the floor within of red earth, firm and beautifully polished. All the cooking-pots were of red clay, and stood in good order round the walls, and with them were shining green calabashes full of milk and cream. Fine green mats lay on the floor, save in one corner where there was a little mat woven of mountain-grass the colour of gold. Round the hut was a high green fence, also of exquisite neatness; indeed all was in perfect order, and no kraal was kept like it in all the country round.

For it was the home of a great Chief’s wife. Her husband had been dead many years, and had left her all alone in the world with one little girl named Maholia, who was only three years old. The Queen had been a most beautiful woman in her day, and as the little girl grew up she was just as lovely as her mother. The greatest care was taken of her, and she was soon as good and obedient as she was charming. Her mother never married again; indeed it would not have been fitting, as she had been a King’s wife. She lived only for her child, and they loved one another dearly. Maholia was the envy of every little girl in the country. Everything she had was the colour of the golden moon, her necklaces, her bracelets, and the gold circle she wore round her neck. As she grew up she became more and more noted for her beauty and charm; she was so lovely that she dazzled the eyes of all beholders, and was known as the Shining Princess. Time went on, and when she grew to womanhood many lovers came forward to ask her in marriage. There was not a Chief’s son for many days’ journey who did not long to make her his wife. But neither the Princess herself nor her mother cared for any of them, nor would they hear of marriage.

Then one day came an embassy from a very powerful King. He was searching everywhere for a beautiful girl to be his son’s wife, but though his wise men had travelled far and wide and many girls had been brought to his kraal, not one had been found to his mind. He decided to seek yet farther afield, and sent his chief Induna [10] with attendants in great state to see all the Princesses in far countries who were famous for their beauty. After many months of travel the Induna began to hear talk of the Shining Princess. He decided to visit her, though he feared to be disappointed once more. But at the sight of the green kraal his hopes rose. At the door the Princess met him. She was shining from head to foot in the bright sun. Round her neck were thick bars of red-gold copper; copper and brass rings adorned her shapely arms from wrist to elbow, and appeared again on her slender ankles, reaching almost to her knees. Round her waist was a girdle of golden beads, twisted into a thick rope behind, and in front hanging in a long, glistening fringe over her short apron of skin. This was again embroidered in squares with gold and copper beads. Over her pretty shoulders hung her cloak, also embroidered in circles of gold and bordered with a wide band of shining beads. Even her snuff-calabash was gold-coloured, of jackal-skin. Every movement was full of grace, and her laughing lips and bright eyes showed the kindness of her heart.

When the Induna saw this beautiful woman clad in gold and shining like the rising moon, he said, “This is the Princess I have been seeking! This is indeed the wife for our great King’s son!”

He begged to see Maholia’s mother, and formally demanded the hand of her daughter. Many days passed in discussion. The Queen was loth to part with her child, but the Induna talked so wisely of his master’s power and riches, and the bravery and wisdom of the bridegroom, that she at last consented. The embassy then returned home to the King, and told him with great joy of the beauty and goodness of the Shining Princess. The King bade his Chief rest while he gathered together the marriage-gift of cattle for the Queen-mother. These consisted of one hundred beautiful animals, at the head of which marched a fairy ox. He was magnificent, the King’s great pride, but he was considered only due payment for so fair a Princess. He was black as charcoal, save for two long white horns, and between his shoulders burned a steady light, which illumined his path by night and gave him magic power.

When all was ready the wedding-party set out to fetch the bride and deliver the tribute due to her mother. The Queen was delighted with the cattle, and especially with the fairy ox.

“Here,” said she to her daughter, “take this ox with you. He is my present to you; your journey will be long and you will often be glad to ride him.”

Then she turned to the King’s men and said, “Do not leave my daughter alone. I am afraid of what may happen to her. If you leave her, I shall know at once, for the corner in which she has always sat at home will crumble away.”

The wedding-party promised faithfully to guard Maholia with every care. The Princess and her mother parted with bitter tears, and she and her attendant maids set forth with the King’s men.

For two days all went well. But on the third day the men came upon hundreds of buck of every kind, large and small, and behind these appeared great herds of elephant and giraffe. The country was full of game. The King’s men could not resist the temptation, and started off to hunt; such abundance they had never seen in their lives before. In the end even the girls joined their party, and all were soon in hot pursuit. The Shining Princess was left all alone seated on an ant-heap, the fairy ox by her side. That very moment, as her mother sat in the hut thinking anxiously of her absent child, the corner on which the golden mat had lain cracked from end to end and crumbled away.

In the meantime the wedding-party went on gaily hunting; the farther they went the more fresh buck appeared. They forgot all about the bride and continued the chase for days. The poor bride sat alone till she was discovered by a party of cannibals, who seized her and carried her away. They endeavoured also to secure the fairy ox, but he gave one great leap into the air out of the midst of the enemy, and flew like the wind to the Princess’s mother.

The poor Queen met him at the kraal gate, for well she knew some evil had befallen her daughter. The great ox stood still while she knelt before him and heard his tale.

“But where is she now?” cried the Queen; “where have they taken her?”

“That is all I know,” said the ox. “The cannibals took her, and so I came with all speed to you. But do not despair; all will yet be well.”