Once upon a time there was great scarcity of food in the land. Father
Anansi and his son, Kweku Tsin, being very hungry, set out one morning
to hunt in the forest. In a short time Kweku Tsin was fortunate enough
to kill a fine deer—which he carried to his father at their
resting-place. Anansi was very glad to see such a supply of food, and
requested his son to remain there on guard, while he went for a large
basket in which to carry it home. An hour or so passed without his
return, and Kweku Tsin became anxious. Fearing lest his father had lost
his way, he called out loudly, “Father, father!” to guide him to the
spot. To his joy he heard a voice reply, “Yes, my son,” and immediately
he shouted again, thinking it was Anansi. Instead of the latter,
however, a terrible dragon appeared. This monster breathed fire from
his great nostrils, and was altogether a dreadful sight to behold.
Kweku Tsin was terrified at his approach and speedily hid himself in a
cave near by.
The dragon arrived at the resting-place, and was much annoyed to find
only the deer’s body. He vented his anger in blows upon the latter and
went away. Soon after, Father Anansi made his appearance. He was
greatly interested in his son’s tale, and wished to see the dragon for
himself. He soon had his desire, for the monster, smelling human flesh,
hastily returned to the spot and seized them both. They were carried
off by him to his castle, where they found many other unfortunate
creatures also awaiting their fate. All were left in charge of the
dragon’s servant—a fine, white cock—which always crowed to summon his
master, if anything unusual happened in the latter’s absence. The
dragon then went off in search of more prey.
Kweku Tsin now summoned all his fellow-prisoners together, to arrange a
way of escape. All feared to run away—because of the wonderful powers
of the monster. His eyesight was so keen that he could detect a fly
moving miles away. Not only that, but he could move over the ground so
swiftly that none could outdistance him. Kweku Tsin, however, being
exceedingly clever, soon thought of a plan.
Knowing that the white cock would not crow as long as he had grains of
rice to pick up, Kweku scattered on the ground the contents of forty
bags of grain—which were stored in the great hall. While the cock was
thus busily engaged, Kweku Tsin ordered the spinners to spin fine
hempen ropes, to make a strong rope ladder. One end of this he intended
to throw up to heaven, trusting that the gods would catch it and hold
it fast, while he and his fellow-prisoners mounted.
While the ladder was being made, the men killed and ate all the cattle
they needed—reserving all the bones for Kweku Tsin at his express
desire. When all was ready the young man gathered the bones into a
great sack. He also procured the dragon’s fiddle and placed it by his
side.
Everything was now ready. Kweku Tsin threw one end of the ladder up to
the sky. It was caught and held. The dragon’s victims began to mount,
one after the other, Kweku remaining at the bottom.
By this time, however, the monster’s powerful eyesight showed him that
something unusual was happening at his abode. He hastened his return.
On seeing his approach, Kweku Tsin also mounted the ladder—with the bag
of bones on his back, and the fiddle under his arm. The dragon began to
climb after him. Each time the monster came too near the young man
threw him a bone, with which, being very hungry, he was obliged to
descend to the ground to eat.
Kweku Tsin repeated this performance till all the bones were gone, by
which time the people were safely up in the heavens. Then he mounted
himself, as rapidly as possible, stopping every now and then to play a
tune on the wonderful fiddle. Each time he did this, the dragon had to
return to earth, to dance—as he could not resist the magic music. When
Kweku was quite close to the top, the dragon had very nearly reached
him again. The brave youth bent down and cut the ladder away below his
own feet. The dragon was dashed to the ground—but Kweku was pulled up
into safety by the gods.
The latter were so pleased with his wisdom and bravery in giving
freedom to his fellow-men, that they made him the sun—the source of all
light and heat to the world. His father, Anansi, became the moon, and
his friends the stars. Thereafter, it was Kweku Tsin’s privilege to
supply all these with light, each being dull and powerless without him.