Chapter VI: Part 6

So the Elephantiasis, who really was hungry, agreed to stop on the ground, and the hare, relieved of the great weight, at once climbed the rubber vine and commenced to throw down the fruit, which the Elephantiasis gathered and put in the bag. As the hare gathered the fruit he threw it further and further away from the vine, and the Elephantiasis rolled himself away after it until at last he had gone some distance from the tree, so the hare slid down to the ground, and ran towards his home as fast as he could go.

When the Elephantiasis got back to the vine he called out to the hare, but as he did not receive any answer he guessed the hare had run home, so he rolled himself along the path after the hare, but although he was nearly round he could not travel nearly as fast as the hare, who was a very swift runner indeed. The hare therefore reached his house some time before the Elephantiasis, and at once called out to his wife and told her to go and stay with a neighbour of his for a few days as he was running away from a man, and his enemies were following him to kill him or take him prisoner, and he feared that they might catch her. His wife then packed up her things and went off to their friend’s house, and the hare having said that he would probably be absent for some days, ran off in another direction, leaving his home deserted, so that when the Elephantiasis arrived he found no one about the place.

The hare took a path which led through some farm, and after a time came across some people who were clearing the ground for their new farm. He went up to them, and having told them a long story about the cruel enemy he was running away from, begged them to hide him and cover him up with leaves and branches so that he should not be discovered. As the people were sorry for the hare, they agreed to do what he asked, and put him in a heap of rubbish where he could not be seen; they then went on with their work.

Shortly afterwards the Elephantiasis rolled himself up to where the people were working and asked them whether they had seen the hare pass that way, but the people told him that the hare had not called at their farm. Then the Elephantiasis said, “Oh, I see you want to deceive me, for I tracked him as I came along the path; but let me tell you the hare is a great friend of mine; unfortunately he has long legs and can run fast, whereas I have no legs and can only roll along slowly, and thus got left behind.” But the people still maintained that they had seen nothing of the hare. Then the Elephantiasis got angry, and said to the people, “If you do not tell me at once where the hare is, I will jump on you and you will have to carry me for the rest of your lives.” At this the people were frightened, as they knew the disease well, and did not wish to have it with them always, so they pointed out the heap of rubbish where the hare was hiding, and the Elephantiasis rolled off towards it.

Now all this time the hare had been listening, and when he saw the Elephantiasis coming towards him he jumped out of the heap and ran away as fast as he could go. He ran for some distance, and passed another farm, but did not go in, as he thought the same thing might happen to him there. He went on and on until he thought the Elephantiasis must be a long way behind, and it would be safe to stop for a time, so when he came to a small compound where the people were having their evening meal he went in and told them that he was being chased, and that the enemy were following him. When the people heard this they stopped eating, and having collected all their food they put it in the Egbo house and told the hare to stop there. They then armed themselves with bows and arrows to protect their homes from the enemy. The hare told them to go some little distance from the Egbo house, so that they should not be driven back upon him at once. He then sat down and eat the people’s food.

For some time the people stood waiting for the enemy to appear, but they saw no signs of anyone until the Elephantiasis rolled up to them, when the hare called out “The enemy has come.” At this one of the men raised his bow and arrow and was about to shoot when the Elephantiasis said, “Don’t shoot, I am not your enemy; I am looking for my friend, the hare, and I want you to show me where he is.” The people said he had not come that way, but the Elephantiasis replied that he had just heard the hare’s voice, and again threatened to jump on one of the men if they did not show him where the hare was hiding. The people then called upon the hare to come out of the Egbo house, but instead of doing so, he ran away in the opposite direction, and went down to a stream where he knew a land crab lived. When he got to the hole he found the old mother land crab at the entrance, and told her his usual story, asking her to help him, as the men always gave him up, and he promised to reward her if she drove his enemy away or killed him. The mother crab agreed, but told the hare that she had young ones in one branch of the hole, and that he might go in and sit down in another part until the fight was over. So the hare went into the hole, and the old mother crab stood at the entrance with her large claws open ready and waiting for the enemy.

Not long after this the Elephantiasis rolled himself down to the stream, where he met the mother crab, looking very fierce, and asked her if she had seen the hare.

The crab replied, “Yes, the hare is in my house, but I never give strangers up to their enemies.”

When the Elephantiasis said he was a friend of the hare, the crab said, “I don’t care whether you are a friend or an enemy, I am not going to give the hare up.” This made the Elephantiasis very angry, and he threatened to jump on the crab. But the crab said, “I am not at all afraid of you. You can try if you like, and then you will see what will happen.”

At this the Elephantiasis rolled himself back a few paces, and then went for the crab. The old crab was ready for him, and nipped him so severely with her sharp pincer-like claws that water came from his inside and he yelled with pain.

The hare then shouted out to the crab to fight well, and that when she had killed the Elephantiasis they would both make a good meal off him. When the Elephantiasis heard this he became more furious than ever, and rolled back again, and then made another attack on the crab. The crab then pinched him so severely that he burst and died, at which the hare was very glad.

When the mother crab told the hare that she had killed the Elephantiasis he told her to drag the body to the stream and wash it. Then the mother crab called for her knife, which the hare gave her out of the hole. The crab then dragged the Elephantiasis to the stream, where she cut him up and washed him properly. She then carried the meat back into the hole.

During the time the old crab had been fighting the Elephantiasis, the hare had been very busy, and had killed and eaten three of the crab’s children, and then threw their shells behind the fireplace near to where the old crab used to keep her salt. When she returned the hare told her that they should cook and eat his dead enemy, so he made up the fire, and the flesh was put into a pot to boil. While the meat was cooking the crab went to get some salt, and to her horror saw the shells of three of her children on the ground where the hare had thrown them. Having put the salt into the pot she went into the next hole where she had left her children, to count them. But the hare, seeing that trouble was likely to come, and not liking the idea of being nipped by the crab’s strong claws, with which she had just killed his enemy, took the pot off the fire and ran away with the meat.

When the mother crab returned vowing vengeance on the hare, she found he had gone and had taken her pot with the meat in it; and although she shouted to him several times to come back she got no answer.

The hare ran on some distance with the pot of meat, on the road to his house, and when he thought he was safe from pursuit he sat down on an ant-hill, with his tail down a hole. Having looked round everywhere carefully to see that no one was following or watching him, he commenced to eat the flesh of his late enemy. All this time the ants were busy building their house, and while the hare was eating his food the ants had covered half his tail and had bitten it through.

When he had finished his meal the hare felt that something was wrong with his tail, so he jumped away from the ant hill, and found to his disgust that he had left half his tail behind him where the ants had bitten it through. When he saw what had happened he did not like to return to his wife at once, as she might deny him, so he waited until it was dark and then joined his wife. She was very glad to see her husband again, and asked him about the war party he was running away from.

The hare said, “All the trouble is now over, as I have gone through the ceremony of the war ju-ju, and the chief cut me on the tail so that in future I shall never die from war or fighting in any way.” And as it was then dark the hare’s wife lit the lamp,[10] but the hare hid his tail in the darkness so that his wife could not see it, as the wound had not healed up.

When the evening meal was over, the two hares retired for the night, but when his wife had put the lamp out, the hare told her that if she wanted to get up during the night or light the lamp she must wake him up first, as otherwise his war ju-ju would be spoilt.

Now the hare was tired after all his running, and very soon he was fast asleep, so when his wife was certain that he would not wake up easily, she got out of bed very quietly and lit the lamp, as she was extremely curious to know what the ju-ju man had done to her husband’s tail. When she saw that the hare had lost half his tail, she was ashamed of him, and began to cry. Then the hare woke up and began to abuse his wife, saying that she had spoilt his ju-ju and would have to pay a great deal to make it right again. After a violent quarrel they eventually went to sleep; but in the morning at first cock-crow the hare’s wife got up and packed up all her things, saying that she was going away to find another husband, as she could not possibly live with a hare who had lost half his tail, whether it had been cut by the ju-ju man or not.

The hare then said, “You have no sense. It will not help you at all to leave me, as all the other hares have had the same thing done to them on account of the war ju-ju. You had much better stay with me.” But his wife was not satisfied, and told her husband that she should go out and see for herself whether what he had said was true; so she started off along the path to the nearest hare’s house.

Directly she was out of sight the hare ran through the bush as fast as he could to the house his wife was bound for, and as she was carrying a heavy load he got there some little time before her. He then told his friend that his wife had left him because he had lost part of his tail, and was on her way to see whether he had also lost his. The hare then asked his friend to step into his back room and allow him to speak to his wife from the door when she came. His friend gladly consented to help him, and soon after he had gone inside the hare’s wife appeared and put down her load. The hare then stood up in the doorway, facing his wife, and calling her by name said, “Ekanga, where are you going with that load? Are you leaving your husband?” And his wife said, “Yes.” The hare then said, “What is the matter?” and she replied, “My husband has lost his tail, and told me that it had been cut on account of the war ju-ju, and that all the other men-hares have also had their tails cut, so as I do not like to live with a hare who has no tail, I have come to see if he told the truth.”

The hare then said, “We have all passed through the same ju-ju and had our tails cut off; look and see.” He then turned round and showed her.

His wife then went on from one hare’s house to another, but each time her husband went on in front of her and deceived her in the same way, until at last she got tired and turned back to go home. The hare then ran quickly home, and jumped into bed, and when his wife appeared he said, “So you have returned. You are a foolish woman, and you can go or stay as you please, I do not care.” But his wife said that she was satisfied that her husband had spoken the truth, as all the hares she had seen had had their tails cut off, so she had resolved to turn back.

The next day the hare called all his company together, and told them that he had nearly lost his life the previous day on account of his long tail, as he had sat down on an ant heap with his tail down one of the holes, and some animal inside had caught hold of it and tried to pull him inside to kill him, but to save his life he had cut his tail off with a knife, and he strongly advised them to do the same. To this they all agreed, and cut their long tails off in order to escape from any enemy who might try to catch them by the tail, and ever since the hares have had no tails, as when the men-hares went home they made their wives and children follow their example, telling them that it was done for their good by the war ju-ju to prevent them from dying in battle. On account of the hare’s wife lighting the lamp to look at her husband’s tail and thus spoiling his war ju-ju, it has been a custom ever since that when men are going to fight they will never trust their wives with their war ju-ju, and they will not sleep with them or eat any food which they have cooked with their hands until the fighting is over.

Told by Ennenni, an Okuni woman.--[26.7.10.]

XXVII.--HOW A CRUEL INKUM CHIEF WAS POISONED BY HIS SLAVES, AND HOW HIS SON HANGED HIMSELF ON ACCOUNT OF THE EXPENSES OF HIS BROTHER’S FUNERAL.

At Inkum in the olden days there dwelt a chief called Erim. He was very wealthy, having many slaves, both male and female, and a large farm. He was known throughout the country as a cruel man and a hard master. Most of Chief Erim’s wealth was made by selling camwood and the large yams grown on his farm. The chief made a rule that each woman slave should bring him at the end of every seven days twelve balls or cakes of camwood. If any of them failed to do so, he tied them up to a tree and they were given fifty lashes on the back with a heavy whip made of twisted skin. They were also made to pay the value of the number of balls of camwood which they had failed to make. This meant that all the women slaves had to work very hard indeed, and they could get no help from their husbands in any way, as at first cock-crow all the men were sent off to the farm to work, and were not allowed to return until the evening. Very frequently the men slaves were severely flogged by order of the chief, if he were not satisfied with the amount of work done on the farm, or if they annoyed him in any way. In consequence of his cruel treatment of them, all his slaves hated Chief Erim, and although they were much in fear of their master they often planned to kill him.

Now Chief Erim had only two wives; one was an Okuni woman, by whom he had a son called Odoggha Eyu, and the other was a native of Inkum, whose son’s name was Oga Erim. The chief was very fond of both his sons, and never allowed them to do any work on the farm. He gave them plenty of food and good cloths, and they grew into strong young men. There was one thing, however, that vexed Chief Erim, and that was that Odoggha Eyu was his eldest son, and he knew that when he died Odoggha Eyu would return to Okuni, which was his mother’s birthplace. The chief therefore made up his mind that his youngest son, Oga Erim, should inherit his property, and for several years taught him how to rule the people with a strong hand and to punish them severely if they did not work, as that was the way he had become rich.

When the two sons had grown up, the slaves made a plan to kill Chief Erim, whom they hated so much. The head slave waited until the day came for the women to bring their camwood to be counted, and then told his wife to keep back three balls of camwood, so that if the chief flogged her, he would be able to give a good reason to the other slaves why they should kill their master. When all the women slaves had brought their camwood, the chief told the head slave to count the cakes as usual. He did so, and told Chief Erim that his wife had only brought nine cakes of camwood instead of twelve, as she had been very busy in the house and had had a lot of other work to do. The head slave also said that ever since he had been married his wife had always brought the right number of cakes, and as this was the first time she had failed to do so he begged the chief not to punish her. But Chief Erim was angry, and said that the head slave’s wife ought to know better and should set a good example to the other slaves. He then had her tied up to a tree, and she was given fifty lashes, the blood running down her back on to the ground, the woman becoming unconscious from the pain. She was then released and water having been thrown over her she was carried to her house, where she was placed on the sleeping-mat.

The next day the woman was made to pay for the three missing cakes of camwood, and the chief told the other women slaves that the punishment the woman had received should be a warning to them and make them work harder.

The head slave washed the wounds on his wife’s back, and put some mashed-up leaves on the sore places to stop the bleeding and heal the cuts. When he saw what a terrible flogging his wife had received, his heart was full of rage against Chief Erim, so that very night he went to every slave, and they all agreed to kill their master. The head slave then went to a clever poisoner who lived not far away, and bought two powerful ju-jus; one would give the person against whom the ju-ju was made the “dry cough” (consumption), and the other would give him paralysis. He then hid the ju-jus, as they had decided to wait some time after the woman had been flogged before they gave the poison to the chief, so that no suspicion should be attached to them of having poisoned their master. All the slaves went about their work as usual until the time arrived for the new yams to be dug, at which season it was customary for the people to give presents to their chiefs. The head slave then went into the bush and made a calabash of strong tombo. He then called Chief Erim’s name, and having put the two ju-jus into the tombo, told the ju-ju to kill Chief Erim and not to harm anyone else. Having bought twenty-five yams and one cock, he took them, together with the calabash of tombo, and gave them to Chief Erim as his present. The chief thanked him for his dash, and told his small boy to pour out the tombo. The first glass was given to the head slave, who had brought the tombo, and he threw it on the ground, asking Ossorwor (God) to bless Chief Erim with plenty of wealth and long life. The “pourer-out” drank the second glass, and Chief Erim drank the next, the tombo was then passed round until it was finished, but the head slave poured the last glass, which had the remains of the poison in it, on the ground in front of the ju-ju, which was in the middle of the compound; this he did when the Chief Erim’s back was turned so that he could not see.

About a month afterwards the ju-ju began to work, and Chief Erim felt sick; he coughed all day, and one side became useless so that he could not walk. He wanted to go to the ju-ju man to ask him what was the cause of his sickness, but being unable to move about he sent for his head slave and told him to go to the ju-ju man and tell him to come to his house so that he could consult him.

When the head slave came, he said to Chief Erim, “I have been your slave ever since I was a small boy. Surely you can trust me. Let me go and consult the ju-ju man on your behalf, and he will tell me what you should do in order to get well again. You have only to give me your loin-cloth, and then when he has seen it he will know what is the matter with you after he has cast lots.”

Chief Erim agreed to this, and told his head slave to take two boxes of rods and some fowls as a present to the ju-ju man. The head slave kept the fowls and rods for himself, and did not go near the ju-ju man, but the next day he went to his master and said that he had consulted the ju-ju man, who had said that the chief’s life was in danger, and that he had been poisoned by his Okuni wife, who wanted her son to inherit her husband’s property. If Chief Erim wanted to get better, he should at once send the wife and her son to Okuni, as they were both witches, and that in three months’ time he would be quite well again. The ju-ju man also said that if it had not been for the small ju-ju in the middle of Chief Erim’s compound, who had been fighting the witches for him, he would have been dead long before. The chief should therefore make a sacrifice of a white cock and a goat to the ju-ju for his help.

Chief Erim then told his wife to go back to Okuni and take her son with her. He also told the head slave to sacrifice the white cock and the goat to the ju-ju. This was done, but instead of getting better, chief Erim died in less than a month, and his son Oga Erim inherited his father’s property.

When the chiefs of Inkum heard of the disease which Chief Erim had died from, they made an order that the body should be buried in a deep grave in the bush, that the funeral should not be kept as usual, and that no one was to mourn for the dead chief, as the sickness he had died from was a very dangerous one, and if anyone cried for him they would get the disease. The chief’s body was therefore buried without any of the customary funeral rites, which saved Oga Erim a large amount of money.

It did not take the slaves long to realize that they were very little better off for the death of their late master, as Oga Erim carried on much in the same way as his father had. The first woman slave who failed to bring her twelve cakes of camwood was given forty lashes instead of fifty, but Oga Erim said that he was young yet, but that as he got older he would be much more severe and punish the people far more cruelly than his father had ever done, as he intended to be very wealthy, and they would have to work much harder than they had done during his father’s lifetime unless they wished to be badly punished.

One day when he was vexed with a slave, he tied him up to a tree and led the driver ants to him, so that he died in great agony. After a time things became so bad that the slaves decided that they must kill Oga Erim, but they did not like to do so at once, as they thought that the Inkum people might suspect them, in which case they would be tortured in many different ways, so they resolved to wait two years before they revenged themselves upon their cruel master.

As the time went on Oga Erim became harder on his people, and some of the slaves were flogged and tortured almost every day; he seemed to take great delight in their sufferings, and spent much time in devising new forms of torture.

When Chief Erim had been dead two years, the head slave called all the other slaves together, and said that the time had arrived when Oga Erim must die, as he did not think that they would be suspected if they were careful. The slaves then discussed the best way to kill Oga Erim. One of them said, “Let us make him blind in both eyes,” but the others would not agree, and said he should be killed at once, as if he were only blind he would know what was going on and would still be able to punish them. At last it was decided to poison Oga Erim, so the slaves brought a very strong poison made from the horns of a ram and some of the hair from the mane cut into small pieces. They then called Oga Erim’s name and told the ju-ju to kill him and not to harm anyone else. The poison was then placed in Oga Erim’s food and a few hours after he had eaten it he began to vomit and spit blood; so when the sun was going down he called for the head slave and asked him to get him some medicine to cure him. The slave advised his master to leave the compound and go to his farm-house until he got well, as he thought that someone must have put a ju-ju in the ground where he was lying, which caused him to be sick. As Oga Erim was unable to walk, the head slave ordered four slaves to carry their master to his farm. In the middle of the night Oga Erim died in great pain, and one of the slaves at once ran off and told the head slave what had happened. He told all the slaves to be quiet and not to tell anyone until he gave them permission, as the head slave knew that directly Odoggha Eyu heard of his brother’s death he would at once come to Inkum to keep the funeral and take all the goods which were formerly his father’s. The head slave then went to the body of Oga Erim and got the keys of the houses where all the rods and other valuables were kept. When he got back to the town, he opened the store where all the rods were, and having called all the slaves together, he divided the rods amongst them all, and then locked the door again. He then went to the house where Oga Erim kept his walking-sticks, brass pans, pots and other expensive articles, and having opened the door, divided these things up and locked the door. After this the head slave divided up the cows, goats, sheep, pigs and fowls between them all, but he left five cows in the compound so that the funeral might be properly kept. He then told some of the slaves to carry their master’s body to the town, but before this was done he warned all the slaves to be very careful not to keep any of their dead master’s property in their own houses, as they might be accused of stealing, so he advised them all to send their things to their different friends’ houses where they could be kept for them without anyone knowing. A messenger was then sent to Odoggha Eyu to tell him that his brother was dead. The chiefs were also informed, and many people came to mourn, the women throwing themselves on the ground weeping.

When Odoggha Eyu heard that his brother Oga was dead, he called his company together to go with him to Inkum, and remembering how wealthy his father had been, he hired many slaves to carry the property back to Okuni. He also borrowed a large number of rods to provide a big feast at the funeral and to give his friends and the slaves he brought with him plenty to eat and drink.

When Odoggha Eyu arrived at Inkum, he asked the head slave to hand the keys of his brother’s house to him, so that he could satisfy himself that everything was in order. But the head slave told him that it was the custom for him to bury the dead body first, and that after the feast the keys would be handed over; he also added that everything in the house was as his brother Oga had left it, and that all the doors were locked. Odaggha Eyu then bought five slaves, promising to pay for them after the funeral; these slaves he killed and placed in the grave with his brother. The five cows which remained in the compound were also killed, and their heads were put in the grave. The bodies of the cows were given to the people to eat. Many men and women came to the funeral, as it was known that Oga Erim was rich, and Odoggha Eyu provided food and drink for them all, and the feasting, dancing and singing was continued for five days and nights. The grave was then filled in and beaten down, and the outside was polished. The head slave then handed the keys to Odoggha Eyu, who went first of all to the house where his father always kept his rods; when he opened the door and went inside there were no rods to be seen. Odoggha Eyu stood there silent for some time, wondering what had become of all his father’s wealth and how he could manage to pay all the debts he had incurred on account of the funeral expenses. At last he asked the head slave what had become of all the rods which his father formerly possessed, and whether his brother had spent them all. The slave replied that he had received nothing himself, but suggested that the spirit of his late father had taken all the rods away.

After this Odoggha Eyu sent to the house where the brass pans, jugs, plates and other valuables used to be kept, and opened the door, only to find that it was as empty as the other house. Then he threw the keys down on the ground in despair and went away. He told his company what had happened, and advised them to go home at once, as he was unable to provide any more food and drink for them. Then the owners of the five slaves who had been killed went to him and demanded payment, and the other people to whom he owed money worried him all day, until at last he resolved to kill himself rather than go home in shame and debt. Odoggha Eyu then asked where his father was buried, and when he was shown the place he went back to the house and sat down, waiting until it became dark. That night he got a rope and hanged himself on the branch of a tree overhanging his father’s grave. His debtors, who were looking everywhere for him, could not find him, and thought he must have run away, but two days later his dead body was discovered hanging to the tree.

Ever since that time it has been a custom, whenever a person is absent when a sick relative dies and wishes to bury him, he first of all finds out how much property there is before he buys things for the funeral, so as to be quite certain that there will be enough to pay for all the expenses of the burial. If a man was poor, very few people would attend the funeral, but if he were rich many people would come. Hence the saying, “A small ju-ju has a small sacrifice, and a big ju-ju has a big sacrifice.”

Told by Abassi of Inkum.--[1.8.7.]

XXVIII.--HOW THE FROG BEAT THE BUSH BUCK IN A RACE, AND WON HIS DAUGHTER AS A WIFE.

Long ago, when the men, animals, and birds were living together, there was a bush buck who was fine and strong; he was also a very quick runner. This bush buck had a daughter whose skin shone like a bright red stone. She was much admired by all the men and animals, and many of them wanted to marry her, and spoke to her father on the subject, but he placed such a high dowry on his daughter that no one was rich enough to pay it.

At last some of the young men, who were very anxious to possess the pretty daughter of the bush buck as a wife, asked the father to reduce the amount of dowry to such an amount as they would be able to pay. As the bush buck was very fond and proud of his daughter and did not want to part with her, he refused to reduce the dowry, but told the young men and animals that he would give them all another chance of winning his daughter, and that was, if any one could beat him in a race he would hand his daughter over to the winner as his wife without any dowry at all. In making this offer the bush buck thought he was perfectly safe, as it was well known that he was a faster runner than anyone in the country.

A day was appointed for the races to be held, and a long straight course was cut. It was decided that the races should be run from one end of the course to the other and back again to the starting-point, and the first one to get back would be declared the winner.

When the day for the race arrived a large number of men and animals met, and the course was lined with spectators on both sides as far as the eye could see. Several young men who were noted for their speed and many swift-running animals competed for the bush buck’s daughter, but they were all beaten by the bush buck. After several races of this kind had been held, the fame of the pretty daughter of the bush buck spread far and wide, and many other men and animals came from distant parts to try and win her, but without success.

One day, when the bush buck’s daughter went down to the spring to get drinking-water, she met a young frog, who fell in love with her and decided to ask her father’s consent to their marriage. But before he did so the frog called all his company, who were very numerous, together, and told them that he intended to try and win the bush buck’s daughter, and that he would race her father. At this all the other frogs laughed, and said that the bush buck would have finished the course before the frog had jumped one pace.

The young frog allowed his companions to enjoy their laugh, and when they were quiet again he said, “I have a plan, and if you will all help me I am certain to win the race, and when I have got the bush buck’s daughter for my wife I will give you a big feast, and it will be a great score to us to win her where everybody else has failed.” He then said to his company, “Are we not all alike?” And they answered all together, with one croak, “Yes.” The young frog then told them his plan. As they all knew, the conditions of the race were that the two competitors were to start together and run to the end of the course, and then return to the starting-point, and the one who returned first would be the winner. All the young frogs were to go out in the early morning and hide themselves in holes at intervals along the whole of the course and one frog was to be at the turning point. Whenever the bush buck called out, one of the frogs was to answer him and pretend he had been running all the time.

All the frogs agreed that the plan was a good one, and promised to help their companion to win the race. When he had thus arranged everything to his satisfaction, the young frog went to the bush buck and challenged him to race for his daughter. But, although the bush buck laughed at the idea, he had to consent to run, and the race was arranged for the following day along the usual track, and the first home to be the winner.

Early in the morning all the frogs took up their positions along the course, and the young frog jumped on to the course where the starting-place was and waited for the bush buck to arrive. By this time many people had arrived to watch the race, and soon the bush buck joined the frog, and the signal to start having been given they both jumped off together. But the frog returned to his hole, and the bush buck raced off alone as fast as he could go. When he had gone about half the distance the bush buck called out, “Where are you, frog?” and one of the frogs at once answered, “I am here, are you tired of running?” And the bush buck said, “Yes, I am tired. Let us run back, and the first in shall be the winner.” So he turned round and started off again. When the bush buck got near the starting-place the frog came out of his hole, and directly the people saw that he had got back before the bush buck they declared the frog to be the winner, much to the disgust of many of the young men, who were watching the race, and who cursed the frog for his luck in winning such a fine wife. When the bush buck arrived he was much out of breath from running, and was greatly surprised at being beaten by the frog, but as he had passed his word that he would give his daughter to the winner, he handed her to the frog.

The frog then took his beautiful wife to his house near the spring, where they had a big play; and after the dancing was over the frog gave all the members of his company who had helped him to win the race quantities of food and tombo, which had been prepared for them. The young frog then went into the water, and called upon his wife to follow him. She went into the stream until the water came up to her neck, but, being naturally very timid, she was afraid to go further, and struggled back to the bank, where she said to her husband, “If you wish to live with me you will have to come on to the land, as I cannot live in the water.” So the frog came out and joined his wife, but he only lived with her for a very short time, as the pretty bush buck walked so fast he could not keep up with her. Very soon she strayed away into the forest, where she met a fine young bush buck, and, forgetting all about the frog, went off with her young lover. One day when she went to the spring to draw water the frog called out to her to return to him, but, as she refused to do so, the frog lost his wife for ever whom he had won so cleverly.

Told by Abassi of Inkum.--[E.D., 11.8.10.]

XXIX.--WHY A PYTHON NEVER SWALLOWS A TORTOISE.

In the days when the elephant was king over all the beasts of the forest, it was the custom for all the animals to go once a year and make the elephant’s farm for him. They cleared all the bush and planted his yams and plantains. On these occasions the elephant always entertained the animals, and when the work was finished the elephant gave them food. Now, although the python never did any work on the farm, he always attended the feasts and, being very greedy, eat more than his share of the food. This annoyed the tortoise so much that he stood up at the feast and abused the python before all the people, saying that he did not work, and then came and eat a large quantity of the food which had been provided by the king for the people who made his farm and planted his yams. The python was therefore compelled to leave the food and go home as he was unable to work, but he made a vow to revenge himself upon all the people. When the next season arrived and it was time for the farms to be made, all the people went as usual to make the elephant’s farm and plant his yams, &c., but as the elephant had had such a very bad crop the previous year, he told the people he was very sorry, but that he was unable to supply them with food that year as he had no yams or plantains to give them. But in the evening, when the work was done, he gave them tombo to drink, and then told them to go. When the python heard this he said, “Now the time is come when I can revenge myself upon the tortoise and the other people who would not let me eat the king’s food last year.” So he went off into the bush, taking his wife with him, and together they gathered large numbers of soft palm nuts. They also collected other nuts and fruit and made them into heaps by the wayside where they knew all the people would pass on their way home from working on the elephant’s farm. Just before it got dark the animals began to arrive at the spot where the python had collected his nuts and fruit, and, being very hungry, they asked the python to allow them to eat some of his palm nuts. The python said, “Certainly, you can help yourselves, but remember if you do, when I am hungry I shall follow you and swallow you up when I catch you.” When the animals heard this they were frightened, and although they were very hungry, they passed on and left the fruit untouched. The tortoise was the last to arrive, and when he saw the palm nuts he shouted out, “Hallo, python, I am hungry, may I have some of your fruit?” The python then reminded him how he had been insulted at the king’s feast, but added, “If you are hungry you may take some palm nuts, but when I am hungry I shall swallow you.”

So the tortoise, not liking the idea of being swallowed by the python, passed along as the other animals had done. But he had not gone far when his hunger tempted him to return and eat the fruit. When he saw the python the tortoise said, “I want to eat the fruit as I am hungry, but, if you swallow me, my body is small and mostly shell so that your hunger will not be satisfied. If you will give me the palm nuts I will allow you to eat all the other animals except our king the elephant.” So the python replied, “How can you give me all the animals for food, seeing that they do not belong to you?” The tortoise then told the python that he would go and stay with the different animals, and he would expect him every morning after rain had fallen during the night; he would then go off into the bush, so that when the python came to swallow him he would not be there, and he could satisfy his hunger with the animal he, the tortoise, had been staying with. The python agreed to this arrangement and allowed the tortoise to eat the palm nuts. When he had satisfied his appetite, the tortoise told the python he was going to stay the night with his friend the bush buck, and then went away. That night there was heavy rain. So in the morning the tortoise went off into the bush, leaving the bush buck to be eaten by the python. After this the tortoise went from one animal to another, and many of them were swallowed by the python, but the tortoise always escaped. And that is why pythons do not eat tortoises now.

Told by Abassi of Inkum.--[E.D., 11.8.10.]

XXX.--THE GAME OF HIDE-AND-SEEK AS PLAYED BY THE HAWK AND THE BUSH COW.

In the days when all the animals and birds lived together they were always on friendly terms, even the eagles and hawks did not molest the hens and ducks. At that time the eagle was king over all the birds, and a very small grey-coloured antelope was made king of the animals. This antelope was appointed king because he was so cunning, and always knew when danger was near, having a very fine sense of smell and keen eyesight. The hunters were never able to kill him, because when they saw him, which was very seldom, it would be when he went to a pool to drink; then they would wait for the antelope to put his head down to the water, but this he never did, as he drank through small holes in his feet. He would then smell the hunters while they were watching him, and run away before they could kill him.

The eagle was elected king of the birds because he lived higher up in the air than any of the other birds, and could thus direct them better. One day the eagle went to the antelope and challenged him to play at a game of hiding between the birds and animals. He chose the hawk to represent the birds, and the antelope selected the bush cow on the animals’ side. They arranged that one should hide himself in the bush and the other should try to find him, but that if he failed to do so, the one hiding would be considered the winner and the loser would have to pay a large number of rods as a forfeit.

The first day the hawk was told to hide in the forest and the bush cow had to find him. So in the early morning the hawk flew off to where he knew there was a very tall tree covered with creepers. He then hid himself in the densest part and went to sleep. All day long the bush cow wandered about trying to find the hawk, but without success, and when the evening came he was quite tired and went home and reported his bad luck to the antelope. Later in the evening the eagle took the hawk to the antelope’s house and said that as the bush cow had been unable to find him, he was the winner, to which the antelope agreed and paid over the rods to the eagle. The antelope was not satisfied, so they arranged to have another match; but the same thing happened and the antelope had to pay again.