Chapter IV: Part 4

Oghabi and Okpa both lived at Inkum. They had always been great friends since they were boys, and when they grew up they made farms in the same place and used to feed together. As they became richer they bought slaves and canoes and lived in separate houses, each man having one wife. At last Oghabi became tired of the farming work and told his friend that he was going to be a hunter. He said that by his hunting he hoped to grow richer, as he intended to go from town to town and sell the meat of the animals he killed while Okpa could be looking after the farm.

For some time all went well with Oghabi, and he made a lot of money by selling his dried meat, but one day he went into the forest with two of his slaves and met with misfortune. He had hunted all day, and killed several buck, and when the evening came he skinned the animals, and having cut them in half placed the meat over the fire to dry in the smoke. He then went to sleep with the two slaves.

During the night a large python came and took one of Oghabi’s legs in his mouth and swallowed it up to the thigh.

Okhabi woke up in great fear and yelled for help, he tried to stand up but could not do so, as his leg was down the snake’s throat. He then called for his hunting knife which one of the slaves gave him, the other slave called Odo snatched a burning stick from the fire and ran off to call Okpa to come and help. But before Okpa arrived Oghabi had cut the snake’s mouth and body right down with his hunting knife and released his leg. The leg was so swollen and inflamed that he could not walk. Okpa arrived shortly afterwards with his wife and together with the help of the slaves they carried Oghabi and the meat he had killed back to his house. Okpa then went home with his wife, but the next morning he went to enquire after his friend, and having stayed a short time he went home again. Later in the day Okpa’s wife came to see Oghabi and had a conversation with his wife. She said she thought there must be something wrong about what had happened the night before as it was not usual for a snake to try and swallow a man, she therefore advised Oghabi’s wife to consult a ju-ju man upon the matter. After she had gone home Oghabi’s wife told her husband what Okpa’s wife had said, and Oghabi agreed and sent off for the ju-ju man at once. When the man came he consulted his skull and then said: “It was your best friend who sent the snake to kill you but I will not mention his name unless you promise to revenge yourself upon him.” As Oghabi only had one good friend he did not want to promise what the ju-ju man asked, but his wife, who had great faith in the ju-ju man, at last persuaded him to pass his word. The ju-ju man then said, “It was your friend Okpa who sent the big snake to swallow you as he is envious of your being a hunter and making more money than him.” Oghabi would not believe this at first, but his wife convinced him after much argument that what the ju-ju man had said was true. From that day Oghabi grew to hate his friend, and when he recovered from the injuries he had received from the snake he began to plot as to how he should revenge himself upon Okpa and his wife. At last he decided to poison them as he did not wish to kill them openly with a matchet. Having got some strong poison from the ju-ju man he told his wife to prepare palm oil chop for Okpa and his family. While she was getting the food ready Oghabi went out and made some tombo, and when he returned he divided the tombo into two calabashes, one large and one small. Into the large calabash he placed some of the poison, and the remainder he put in the palm oil chop. He then got ready and went with his wife to Okpa’s house taking the two calabashes of tombo and the palm oil chop with him. When they arrived Okpa received them gladly and ordered food to be prepared at once. When the food was ready Okpa and his wife sat down and eat it and drank the tombo from the small calabash. Oghabi then told Okpa and his wife that they could eat the food which they had brought for them, and when they had finished they could drink the tombo in the big calabash. Okpa and his wife then called their children together and sat down and eat the poisoned food and drank the tombo, but Okpa’s youngest son would not eat or drink anything.

When they had finished Oghabi said he should go home but Okpa begged him to stay. Oghabi, however, refused and started off home with his wife. When they had reached half way and were sitting down to rest, Okpa’s youngest son came running up to them and implored them to return with him and help his father as they were all very ill and in great pain. Oghabi said, “run back home at once and tell your father that I will come directly I have been home, and will bring some medicine which will make them vomit and they will then get well.”

But Oghabi never went back to Okpa’s house until the next morning, when he found they were all dead except Okpa’s youngest son who was crying. Oghabi was very glad at what he saw, and the boy noticed that Oghabi did not cry, so he went and reported everything to the chief.

The chief sent for Oghabi and his wife and called the chiefs of the town together to hold palaver. The boy told them how Oghabi had brought food for his people the previous night and that he was the only one who had not eaten any, and all the others had died soon after Oghabi left the house. He also told the chief that Oghabi and his wife had not eaten any of the food, and that when he saw his friend and all his family were dead that he had not cried. The chief then asked Oghabi whether he had tasted the food he brought for Okpa, and Oghabi replied that he had done so and that his wife had cooked and eaten some of the food. As there was no one besides the boy to give evidence the chief said he could not treat Oghabi as a poisoner. He therefore took him to his ju-ju and made him swear that he had not killed Okpa, and that if he had the ju-ju should kill him. Oghabi’s wife swore also.

The chief then sent word all round the towns that as Okpa and his family had been poisoned, for the future whenever anyone gave another person tombo, foo-foo, palm oil chop, or anything else to eat or drink, they must first partake of it themselves, to show that it was not poisoned.

Told by Abassi of Inkum.--[20.6.10.]

_Author’s Note._

It is a universal custom throughout the district that when food or drink is brought for strangers the provider of the food should first taste it, to show that it is not poisoned.

In connection with the above it may be of interest to note the formalities which are invariably observed whenever tombo is brought for people to drink, even when there are only a few present.

The “pourer out” (Ka-ammum (Ingor) pour drink) takes the demijon or calabash of tombo in his right hand and places it on his knee, then he takes a glass or small calabash in his left hand and having poured a little tombo into the glass he presents it to the chief or the head man present, who makes a little speech asking God (Ossor wor) to be good to them to prevent their children from dying, and to give them good yam crops, etc. He then throws the tombo on the ground. Having handed the glass back, it is filled and given to the chief’s small boy, who stands behind him, to drink. The “pourer out” then pours out a glass and drinks it himself. After that the next glass is given to the chief who throws it on the ground as a libation to the dead ancestors, then the glass will be filled again, and the chief drinks it.

The tombo is then poured out glass after glass and handed round until there is only one glass left in the calabash and that is drunk by the chief’s small boy who drank the first glass, he leaves a little in the bottom of the glass and gives it to the chief who throws the contents on the ground to propitiate the evil spirits.

The reason that the glass is presented with the left hand of the “pourer out” is, that formerly the natives were afraid of being seized by the hand, when they held out the tombo, by some man who would seize them on behalf of a third person who owed him a debt, and if they held the glass out in their right hand and were caught by it they could not get at their knives which are worn on their right side, to protect themselves. On all other occasions things are given and taken with the right hand as the left hand is looked upon as “unclean” for certain reasons, and it is considered in consequence an insult to offer or take anything with the left hand. Natives eat their food with their right hands only.--[E.D., 20.6.10.]

XVII.--HOW CHIEF ALANKOR AND ALL HIS FAMILY WERE KILLED BY A BIG FROG, OR WHY THE COCK CROWS AT DAWN.

A long time ago, Chief Alankor was one of the head chiefs of Ikom, he was rich and powerful. This chief had five wives and several children by each, but he disliked them all with the exception of the last born whose name was Eba. Wherever he went, whether it was into the forest to fell timber for making canvas, or to visit neighbouring towns, he used to take his little son with him and spoil him in many ways.

When all the people were working, including the women and children on the farm, Eba always stood with his father in the shade of a tree throughout the heat of the day, and when it was time to go home in the evening, and all the others were carrying heavy loads, some of firewood, and others of food, Eba only carried his father’s bag, containing his snuff and horn. After the bush had been cut and burnt, and the ground prepared for the farm the Chief waited until some heavy rains had fallen, and then proceeded to distribute the yams for planting. Eba carried the yams round for the others to plant. As he was putting the yams into the basket, he took a great fancy to one particular yam-tail which he thought he would like to take home and eat, so he placed the yam-tail behind the tree where his father was standing, and then took the remaining yams out to the people on the farm to plant. When the work for the day was finished, and it was time to go home, Chief Alankor called his people together and started off, Eba carrying his father’s bag as usual, but he entirely forgot his yam-tail which he had left behind the tree until they got half way home. Eba then told his father, that he wished to return to the farm as he had left something behind which he wanted to get.

His father told him that it was most unusual for anyone to return to the farm after the work was over as it was well known that anyone going back might meet some evil thing. But Eba said he was not afraid, and as his father did not like to refuse his favourite son anything he allowed him to go, and told his people to sit down and wait until Eba came back. Eba then hurried back to the place where he had left his yam-tail, but when he got there he found the yam-tail was turning itself into a frog, which grew larger and larger every moment. Eba was very frightened, but continued to look at the frog until suddenly he caught its eye, when he dropped down dead.

Chief Alankor waited for some time for Eba, and as he did not come, sent two of his slaves back to fetch him, and then went on with the rest of his people.

Soon after they reached the house, food was brought for the chief, but he could not eat anything as he was anxious about his favourite son, and was expecting him to return with the two slaves every minute. When it became dark, as they did not return, Alankor sent four more slaves after the other two, and told them to search the farm all over for his son, but they did not return either.

The chief became more anxious as it got later, and there were no signs of any of the people he had sent out, so just before midnight he sent eight more slaves with fire-brands, to help in the search. When the day was about to break, and there was no message from any of his people, Chief Alankor became thoroughly frightened, and called the rest of his slaves together, and having armed them with bows and arrows to protect themselves, he sent them off after the others and warned them to be very careful how they went. As nothing was heard from the last lot, the chief armed himself and his sons, and told his wives that he was going himself to look for Eba and the slaves who were lost.

He then started off. As the chief did not return, the wives and daughters went out to the farm to look for him and try to find out what had happened to everybody, thus leaving the house deserted except for the cattle and the fowls. When the morning came, the cock went to the cow, the sheep and goats, and said, “As our master is missing we should all go and look for him.” So they started off, the cow leading the way, followed by the goats and sheep, and then came the hens and chickens, but the cock stayed some distance behind them all.

When they reached the farm, the cock flew up to the top of a high tree to watch and see what happened to everybody. On looking round the farm he saw the bodies of Chief Alankor and all his family, including the slaves, lying on the ground apparently dead. Some little distance off he saw a creature like a gigantic frog covered with hair, sitting down with its head bent down, as he watched the cow and other animals walked past the monster, and as they looked in its eyes they fell down dead, one after the other.

The cock was very frightened, and flew down from the top of his tree and ran off as fast as he could to his friend the rabbit, and told him what had happened to his master and all his household, including the animals and hens.

The rabbit said that he thought he could bring the Chief and all his people back to life again, but they must be very careful not to let the frog look at them as if he did they would surely die. They then set off together for the farm, but they went by a different path so as to come in at the back of the frog. The rabbit then began burrowing, and the cock went into the bush and cut some strong tie-tie one end of which he made fast to a tree. He then sat down to wait for the rabbit. After a time, the rabbit came out and said that he had burrowed away until he had come just under where the frog was sitting, and that he had made holes so that they could get at both his hind legs without being seen. The rabbit then led the way into the hole, and the cock followed dragging the tie-tie with him. When they got to the place where the evil monster was, they tied both of his legs very securely with the tie-tie, and then went back by the way they had come. When they got to the mouth of the hole, the cock cut a small piece of tie-tie and flew to the top of a tree, taking great care not to look in the direction of the frog.

He then tied his head in such a way that he could not catch the frog’s eye. The rabbit remained in the hole so that he could not see or be seen. The cock then called out to the frog to make all the people come to life again at once or else he and the rabbit would kill him.

The frog tried to jump away, but found that he was helpless as both of his hind legs were fast. Then the frog promised to cure the people, but begged the cock and the rabbit not to kill him but to throw him into the water to drown, this they agreed to do. The frog then pointed to some leaves growing near and told the cock to gather them, and to squeeze the juice into the eyes of the people and animals, and they would all wake up. The cock and the rabbit then untied the frog and threw him into the river: they then returned and squeezed the juice of the leaves into the eyes of all the people and animals, and they woke up immediately, none the worse for their experience but very frightened.

They all went home and were shortly afterwards joined by the cock and the rabbit. The chief then asked who it was that had redeemed him from death with all his household? When he heard it was the cock and the rabbit, he appointed the cock to be the head man of the house, and gave him power to wake everybody at daylight and tell them it was time to go and work. As a reward to the rabbit, the chief pointed to his farm and said, “you can eat as much as you like of the yams, cassava, and of the palm-nuts which fall to the ground, and take them home and nobody will take them from you.”

From that day, the frog lived in the water, and seldom came to land except for food, and, ever since, the young of the frog have had tails which show that they come from the frog which was made from the tail of a yam.

Told by Ewonkom, an Ikom woman.--[E.D., 22.6.10.]

XVIII.--HOW THE RIVER CAME INTO EXISTENCE; OR, WHY A CRAB HAS NO HEAD.

When the Creator made the earth he appointed the elephant ruler of the world. In those days there were no rivers but the Creator made a pond for the elephant to drink out of. One day the elephant told his friends, the hawk and the crab, that he was going to hunt in the forest on a certain day. When the appointed day arrived the elephant and the hawk went off with their bows and arrows, and having surrounded a part of the forest, commenced to hunt.

Now the crab was a poor thing and could not walk fast, neither could he use a bow and arrow, so he took a long net with him into the forest and waited for the animals to run into it. When an animal which had been wounded by the elephant or the hawk ran into the net it very soon became entangled in the meshes of the net. The crab then went up to the animal and killed it with a stick; having thrown the arrow away he would put the animal on one side as his own.

At the end of the day the elephant had killed five buck and the hawk three, but the crab had secured ten animals all much bigger than himself. When the hunt was over the elephant told the hawk and the crab to bring to him all the animals they had killed, but when he saw that the crab had killed ten animals to his five he was very angry and told the hawk to put him down on the ground and cut his head off.

But the crab begged the elephant so hard to forgive him, and offered to give up the animals he had killed, that at last the elephant trumpeted: “Go!” in a very loud voice, and the crab went, leaving the ten animals behind him.

The crab was very angry at losing all the meat, so he thought he would revenge himself upon the elephant. He therefore crawled along sideways to the elephant’s house, and told the elephant’s wife that the place where they had been hunting was very cold and that her husband wished her to make him some good soup and that she was not to forget to put plenty of peppers in it.

The mammie elephant did as she was told, and the crab went down to the elephant’s pond and filled it up with earth, so that there would be no place where the elephant could drink. When he had finished he dug a small hole where the pond had been and buried himself in it.

Shortly after this the elephant returned home, carrying the meat, and bringing his friend the hawk with him. The elephant’s wife then brought the soup she had made, and the elephant and the hawk sat down together and finished it.

When the meal was over, the elephant told his wife to bring some water for them to drink, as the soup was so hot from the peppers that he had become quite thirsty, but his wife said that she had not got any water that morning, so they had better go to the pond, as it was not so far. The elephant went down to the pond but found to his intense surprise and disgust that there was no water, and that the pond was full of mud. At this he was very angry and went home and told the hawk.

Then the hawk, who was also very thirsty, went down to the pond with the elephant, and together they dug the mud out until at last they came across the crab. The elephant at once guessed that it was the crab who had filled up his drinking pond, and being in a furious rage, he cut the crab’s head off and threw him into the pond.

The water came back into the pond at once and both the elephant and the hawk had a good drink and wash. After a time he thought that if he left the crab in the water that he would fill the pond up again, so he told the hawk to dig away at the lower end, so that the water could flow out of the pond. The hawk did as he was told and made a running stream. This stream became larger and larger until it grew into a big river. The crab then went into the river, but having no head he could not see, so he went to the fish and asked him to cure his wounds and give him a pair of eyes to see with. The fish cured his wounds after a time, but, having no eyes to spare, he sent the crab on to his friend the prawn.

The prawn got some eyes, which he placed on the shoulders of the crab, and they grew there, so that he could see quite well, but the crab has never had a head since that time.

Told by Ewonkom, an Ikom woman.--[E.D., 22.6.10.]

XIX.--WHY THE MIST RISES FROM THE WATER.

Ogbaja of Ikom was the son of Chief ’Njum, and his mother was called Nara. Chief ’Njum was a poor man, but he had a farm and a few slaves to work for him. When Ogbaja grew up, he became a hunter, and being a good shot with his bow and arrows he nearly always succeeded in bringing back some meat, which he took to his father.

One year the season was so dry and the sun so hot that Chief ’Njum could not plant his yams in time, and when he did plant them it was too late, and there was a very bad crop in consequence.

When the food began to get scarce, Chief ’Njum told his son to go hunting every day to supply meat for everybody.

Ogbaja went out every morning with his bow and arrows, and generally returned in the evening just before it was dark, carrying the animals he had killed. He also used to bring some bush mangoes with him as well, as they were useful for making soup.

His father always sent Ogbaja to the chiefs every day with a small piece of meat and one mango for each, and after a time they got to know him quite well.

Just at that time there were eight wicked people who had been driven out of the town. Some of them were witches and others were poisoners, but one of them was a cripple, and could only scramble along on his hands and knees. These people were not allowed to make farms, so they were forced to live on the fruits and seeds which they found in the forest.

Ogbaja knew all about these men, and was afraid to meet them, so he always gathered mangoes at a time when he knew they would not be near the tree.

One day Ogbaja’s mother Nara said she wished to go with him to gather some fruit, but he told her that she could not go, as the witches were dangerous men and might kill her.

Nara, however, made up her mind to go, so she put ashes in Ogbaja’s bag which he always carried, and made holes in the bottom, so that she could follow him.

Ogbaja got up early in the morning, and took his bow and arrows with him to hunt; then as he went along he left a trail of ashes behind him, which Nara followed, and at last came to the mango tree, where she found Ogbaja picking up the fruit.

Her son said “Why do you come here? If you had waited at home, I would have brought you some fruit.” But his mother told him that she wanted to get the fruit herself, and commenced gathering the mangoes and eating some of the ripe ones.

Ogbaja said, “I cannot take you home, as I must go out hunting to get food. I will therefore leave you at the top of the tree, where you will be safe from the wicked men, but you must be careful to keep very quiet and not move when they come.” He then helped his mother up the tree, and left her sitting on a branch, telling her that he would return the same way after he had finished hunting, late in the afternoon, and take her home. He then went away.

At midday when the sun was high up, the witches came and started to pick up the mangoes, but they left the cripple underneath the tree.

When they had finished, they told him they were going to the stream to get water and would return to him later.

Nara was very frightened when she saw the witches, and kept quite quiet, but when she saw them go down to the stream she thought they had all gone, so she moved about in the branches and looked all round.

This movement soon attracted the attention of the cripple, who was lying on his back, and he looked up and saw Nara sitting on the branch.

Shortly afterwards the seven bad men returned with the water, and after he had taken a drink he told the others what he had seen in the tree. They looked up and saw Nara, so one of the witches climbed up the tree and threw her down. She was killed at once, and they cut the body up and divided it and took it home to eat. The cripple claimed the head for his share. As he was unable to walk, he crawled along the path on his hands and knees, rolling the head in front of him.

When Ogbaja returned to the mango tree after his hunting to take his mother home, he could not find her, but on looking about on the ground he saw the bloodstains where his mother’s body had been cut up, and at once knew that she must have been killed by the witches. He never gathered any fruit, but returned home empty-handed.

Ogbaja was far too frightened to go to the place where the bad men lived to look for his mother, so he went home, feeling very sad.

When he returned, Chief ’Njum asked him what had become of his mother, but Ogbaja’s heart was so full of grief that he could not answer. Then his friends Bojor and Osobia came and asked him why he grieved so much. So he told them what had happened, sobbing all the time.

His father, in the meantime, had sent to call another chief called Agborleku, who was a very wise man, to consult with him as to what was the best thing to be done.

When Agborleku arrived, Chief ’Njum told him what had happened to his wife. Then Chief Agborleku sat for a long time without speaking, considering what was the best way to get rid of these wicked men.

At last he told Chief ’Njum not to do anything for two months, as, by that time, the witches would think they were quite safe.

He was then to prepare a big feast and make plenty of strong tombo, half of which was to be made from the tombo drawn from the top of the tree and the other half from a tree which had been cut down. He was then to mix the two lots of tombo together. Cows would then be killed and goats, and all the people of the country, including the witches, would be invited to attend the feast which would be given in honour of the chief’s dead wife.

A certain house would be set aside for the witches to sleep in, and they were to be given plenty of tombo to drink, so that they would sleep well. When they were fast asleep, they would be covered up with dry palm leaves and then burnt to death.

Chief ’Njum agreed that this was a good plan, and commenced making preparations for the feast. When they were completed, a man was sent to the eight witches with a message from Chief ’Njum, that he would like the people who had been turned out of the town to take part in the big feast he was giving in honour of his dead wife.

When the man had gone, the cripple tried to persuade the other witches not to go to the feast, as he said that the people of the town would be certain to revenge themselves upon them for the death of Nara, but the witches did not agree with him, and said that it was impossible for Chief Njum to know that they had killed his wife, as no one had seen them do it, and they did not think he would ask them to a feast if he wished to harm them. They also said that they had not had a good feed for a long time, so, in spite of the entreaties of the cripple, they decided to go.

When the day of the feast arrived, the seven evil men carried the cripple to the town, and at once began to eat as much as they could, and drank large quantities of the strong tombo. But the cripple eat very little, and did not drink any of the tombo, as he was suspicious of the people.

Very soon, the seven witches were quite drunk, and lay down in the house which had been set apart for them, and went fast asleep. The cripple also lay down and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep, but in reality he was wide-awake and very watchful.

When Ogbaja saw that all the witches had gone to sleep, he covered them all over, very softly, with dry palm leaves, and, having set fire to them, went out and fastened the door.

The seven men were burnt to death, as they were too drunk to escape, but the cripple managed to crawl into a large water-pot which was kept in the room for drinking-water, and the fire did not hurt him, as he only kept his mouth just out of the water.

When the house was burnt down, Ogbaja went inside to see that all the witches were dead, and counted the bodies, but could only find seven. He thought he must have made a mistake, so he counted them again out loud, one, two, three, up to seven, and the cripple called from his pot after him the numbers up to seven. Ogbaja could not understand this, so he counted the bodies again aloud, and again the cripple copied him. Ogbaja then called the people in with hoes, and they dug up the ground, but could not find the eighth body. Ogbaja then counted the bodies again, and the people listened carefully; the cripple answered as before, and they guessed from the direction the voice came from that the last of the witch-men must be in the water-pot, so they looked in and found the cripple. They dragged him out of the pot at once, and said, “As you do not seem to like to be killed with fire, we will kill you with the water-pot you took refuge in.” They then dragged the cripple down to the waterside, where they made a large fire, and put the water-pot into it. The cripple begged them not to put him in the fire, but no one answered him. When the pot was red-hot, it was taken out of the fire and placed over the cripple’s shoulders. He was then pushed into the river. The red-hot pot caused steam and mist to rise from the water, and it is still to be seen when the mornings are cold that mist rises from the river, and people say that this is caused by the red-hot pot which was placed over the shoulders of the wicked cripple when he was thrown into the water and the steam still continues to rise.

Told by Ewonkom, an Ikom woman.--[E.D., 23.6.10.]

XX.--HOW IBANANG OKPONG AND HER MOTHER WERE SWALLOWED BY A MAN-EATING DRUM, AND HOW THEY ESCAPED FROM ITS INSIDE.

Years and years ago the Ikom people had never seen the large wooden drum called ’Ndofu. This drum was made out of the trunk of a hard-wood tree and hollowed out with a long slit at the top. When this drum was beaten with two soft pieces of wood, the sound carried for a great distance. This drum was used for dances and for calling the people in from the farms when there was any big palaver on, or if the town were going to be attacked. Messages could also be sent to anyone who understood the beat of the drum.

About this time, many people from the surrounding towns and countries disappeared and were never seen or heard of again, until at last it became known that one of these wooden drums lived in a town in the bush not far from Ikom, and if anyone strayed into the wooden drum’s town by accident he was swallowed alive and was never seen again. The people of Ikom therefore warned their children never to go by themselves to the farms unless they knew the road very well indeed, as if they took the wrong path and went to the town where the wooden drum lived, they would be swallowed up and would disappear for ever.

In those days a man called Okongo Osim lived at Ikom. He had a very beautiful wife whose name was Inkang Ezen. They only had one child, Ibanang Okpong by name, and both the father and mother were very fond of her. They took great care of the little girl, never allowing her to go about by herself, and frequently warned her about the bad ju-ju who lived in the bush and eat people. Ibanang, however, did not pay much attention to what her parents said, and, as she was never allowed to go out to the farm, she grew to be very discontented.

The parents arranged that they would never go to their farm together, so one day Okongo Osim would go to the farm and leave his wife to look after their daughter, as she could help in the cooking and get water from the river. The next day the father would stay at home to look after the girl and his wife would go to the farm.

This went on for some time, until at last Ibanang became very dissatisfied, as she had never been to their farm and wanted to see what it was like very much. So she waited until the day when her mother had gone to the farm and she was left in charge of her father.

Ibanang then said she was going down to the river to get water to boil the yams in, but, instead of doing as she proposed, she left her water-pot on the ground outside the house, and ran off along the path which she knew her mother always took to go to the farm.

After she had gone for a little distance outside the town, Ibanang came to a place where the path divided and, not knowing which way to go, she took the path which led to the right, and ran on until she came to a cripple sitting on the side of the path beneath a tree. He greeted her and offered her some kola. But Ibanang was in a hurry to find her mother, and would not stop. She ran on and paid no attention to the cripple, who shouted after her that she ought to go back, as the path did not lead to her farm.

After she had gone a little distance she was out of breath, so she stopped to rest for a time. While she was resting, a small wooden drum came up and spoke to her. He offered a kola nut, which she refused, and he then told her to go back, but Ibanang would not listen to him and said she was looking for her mother. She then ran on and passed several more wooden drums, each one bigger than the last; they all told her to return, but she was obstinate, and still ran on until at last she came to a clearing in the bush where there was an enormous wooden drum held up by forked sticks and resting on the ground.

As the girl had never seen anything like this drum before she went up quite close to it. The drum then said to her: “What are you doing in my town? No one is allowed to come here, and if anyone does come, they never go back again.”

The girl then began to be afraid and looked round to see how she could escape, but the path she had come by had closed up and there was no way out, as she was entirely surrounded by thick bush.

She then listened and could hear singing and dancing going on, but the sounds seemed to come from the inside of the drum, and, although she looked round everywhere, she could not see anybody.

While she was wondering where the sounds came from, the big drum opened his lips wide and swallowed her up. She slid down his throat and fell into a big compound where there were many people singing and dancing. Ibanang did not know any of the people, but they were those who had disappeared from the surrounding towns for some years.

She then asked some of the people why they did not go back home; so they told her that the only way was to climb up and cut the heart and liver out of the drum, but they could not do that as they had no matchets or knives.

This made the girl very sad, but, as she could not see any other way out of the place, she made up her mind to enjoy herself, and sang and danced with the rest of the people.

When Ibanang’s mother returned from the farm her husband told her that Ibanang had escaped from the house and had gone to the farm. But her mother knew that she must have lost her way, as she had not been to the farm and guessed at once that she had gone to the town of the wooden drum, where she would be killed. She then abused her husband as much as she dared for not looking after their child properly, and pulled her hair down and cried all the night.

Inkang Ezen told her husband that in three days’ time she would set out to find Ibanang, and that if she did not find her she would never return. The next two days Inkang Ezen spent in borrowing native razors from her friends and sharpening them.

Then on the third day she started off, when there was no one about, with the razors in her cloth, and went by the road leading to the town of the wooden drum.

She had not gone far when she met the cripple, who was always in the same place from morning until sunset. He offered Inkang Ezen some kola, as he had done to her daughter, but she refused to take it. Then the cripple called her back and said she was on the wrong road and that if she went further she would never return; but the woman told him she did not care, as she was looking for her daughter, who had disappeared.

She went on, and met the small drum, who also offered her kola, and tried to persuade her to go back, but she would not listen to him.

After that, she passed drum after drum, until at length she arrived at the big drum, who asked her why she had come, so Inkang Ezen said she was looking for her daughter Ibanang, and would like to go to the same place where she had gone.

Then the big drum took her up, and, having opened his big lips wide, he swallowed Inkang Ezen in the same way as he had swallowed her daughter.

When she went down the drum’s throat and reached the compound, she came across several people she did not know, but, on looking round, she saw her daughter, and ran to her and embraced her.

She talked to Ibanang for some time, until the people came up and spoke to them. Inkang Ezen told them that Ibanang was her daughter, who had lost her way in trying to find their farm. She also told them that she had found out how to escape from the drum before she came, and had brought some sharp razors to help them to cut their way out. When the people heard this, they were so glad that they danced and sang all the night through.

In the morning Inkang Ezen gave her razors to the men, and they at once climbed up into the drum, and commenced cutting the drum’s heart out, bit by bit.

When they began to cut, the drum felt a great pain in his inside, and made such a noise that all the small drums and the cripple came to enquire what the matter was. When they came, the big drum told them that he had a bad pain in his heart, and thought that the people he had swallowed must be trying to cut their way out. He then asked them if they could do anything to help him, but the small drums said they could do nothing.

All this time the men inside the drum were cutting away at his heart and liver with their razors, until at last the drum got up from his seat, and fell over dead.

When the drum fell down, Inkang Ezen told the men to work hard and cut their way out. They cut their way through the drum’s heart and liver, and then made an opening in his lips big enough for a man to crawl through. One man got out, and told the people inside that it was quite light.

Then all the people came out of the inside of the drum one after another, including the goats and other animals that the drum had swallowed.

Everyone praised Inkang Ezen very much for the way she had delivered them, and asked her to show them her house, so that they would know where to find her in the future. She was very glad to do this, and took all the people to her husband’s house.

When they arrived, a report was sent round the whole country that the big wooden drum, the destroyer of men, was dead.

Then the men went to the home of the big drum with axes, and cut the drum into pieces and carried them to Inkang Ezen’s house.

After the body of the drum had been eaten up, the bones were preserved. They bored holes in the leg bones, and took the marrow out. The bones were then used to beat the drums with at dances and in times of danger.

The people who had escaped from the drum’s inside each took one of his bones and departed to their different towns, where they all made big wooden drums like the one which had swallowed them.

Told by Ewonkom, an Ikom woman.--[E.D., 23.6.10.]

XXI.--WHY THE HEAD OF THE MALE GOAT SMELLS SO STRONG.

There was once a male goat who cut a large cotton-tree down and then burnt it. When it was quite dead, mushrooms began to grow on the trunk. Now these mushrooms are very good in palm-oil chop, and the goat thought he would like to eat them. Unfortunately, just before he gathered them, the elephant went to the tree and rooted them all up. When the goat saw what the elephant had done, he was vexed, so he went and told the elephant that he had cut down the tree and burnt it in order to grow the mushrooms for his food, and as the elephant had spoilt them all, he demanded fish or meat to make soup, as compensation. The elephant said he did not care much for either fish or meat, and had none to give, so he gave the goat some beans instead. The goat was satisfied at receiving this present from the elephant, and took the beans home to his house and left them in a calabash on the floor. During the night, while the goat was asleep, a rat came into the house and eat all the beans up.

When the morning came, the goat, missing his beans, guessed that the rat had eaten them, and told him that he must pay for the beans he had stolen. The rat said he was willing to do so, and gave the goat one of his small children. The goat took the young rat home and put it on the ground just outside the house. He then sat down to watch, and very soon a hen came along who, being very hungry, swallowed the young rat. The goat at once told her that she must pay, so the hen gave him one of her chickens. The goat allowed the little chicken to run about, and went out himself to get some food. While he was gone, the hawk, who was hovering round, soon caught sight of the chicken, and swooped down and carried it off and eat it. A sheep, who had been watching, told the goat, when he returned, what had happened to the chicken, so the next morning the goat went to the hawk and demanded payment. But the hawk, having nothing to pay with, gave the goat one of his feathers out of his wing to settle the matter, and said that those particular feathers were much liked by the young men, who were fond of dancing, and also by the fighting-men, as they put them in their hair for decoration and then danced round the town. The goat was not very satisfied with this, but as he did not see any way to get anything else out of the hawk, he had to pretend that he was contented, and took the feather home.

Next day, hearing there was a big play being held at Inde, and that all the young men who had returned from fighting, were gathered there, he went over, taking his feather with him. When he got to the town he put the hawk’s feather on the ground in a place where everyone could see it, and then went for a walk round the town, eating a few freshly fallen leaves from the ju-ju tree as he went.

After a time he returned to where the people were dancing, and found, as he had expected, that his feather had been taken. It did not take him long to discover his hawk’s feather, which was in the hair of one of the fighting-men. The goat went up to the man and told him that the feather was his, and asked for payment, so the man took the goat to his house and gave him one yam in satisfaction of his claim.

The next day the goat went one day’s march inland from the river, where yams were unknown, and found that all the people were planting koko yams, which are very inferior in every way. The goat then asked the people why they grew koko yams, which were poor things to eat, and showed them the big yam he had received from the fighting man from Inde. The goat told the people that in the country he came from they always planted the proper yams, and the koko yams were only used in the hungry season when food was scarce. The goat then put his yam on the ground and pretended to go away as if he had forgotten all about the yam, but he did not go far, and watched to see what might happen.

Very soon the owner of the farm, thinking he would like to grow some of these big Inde yams, took the yam up and, having cut it, planted it in the ground. When he had finished, the goat went up to him and said, “Where is my yam?” The farmer said he thought the goat had forgotten all about the yam, so he had planted it, but he was willing to pay, so he told one of his wives to bring a ball of camwood, which he gave to the goat.

The next day the goat went on into a country where the people did not use camwood as a part of the marriage ceremony, and went from house to house looking for a girl who had just been circumcised and was about to be married. At last he found one, so he went into the house and asked the woman if she were going to be married, and she said, “Yes.” So the goat said, “How is it you are not rubbed with camwood?” and showed her his ball, saying, “In my country no woman can be properly married unless she is rubbed all over with camwood.” The girl replied, “In our country we have no such custom.” So the goat left the ball of camwood in the house and went out for a little while. On his return he found that the parents of the girl had taken his camwood and rubbed their daughter all over with it. As usual, the goat demanded payment, and the mother of the girl gave him a sleeping-mat.

In the morning the goat went on to the next town, taking the sleeping-mat with him. He went to the chief’s house, and, having had some food, placed his mat on the ground and went to sleep on it.