A few hundred years ago, the chief Mauri (God) determined to have a
splendid yam festival. He therefore sent his messengers to invite all
his chiefs and people to the gathering, which was to take place on Fida
(Friday).
On the morning of that day he sent some of his servants to the
neighbouring towns and villages to buy goats, sheep, and cows for the
great feast. Mr Klo (the tortoise), who was a tall and handsome fellow,
was sent to buy palm wine. He was directed to the palm-fields of
Koklovi (the chicken).
At that time Klo was a very powerful traveller and speedily reached his
destination, although it was many miles distant from Mauri’s palace.
When he arrived Koklovi was taking his breakfast. When they had
exchanged polite salutations Koklovi asked the reason of Klo’s visit.
He replied, “I was sent by His Majesty Mauri, the ruler of the world,
to buy him palm wine.” “Whether he’s ruler of the world or not,”
answered Koklovi, “no one can buy my wine with money. If you want it
you must fight for it. If you win you can have it all and the
palm-trees too.”
This answer delighted Klo as he was a very strong fighter. Koklovi was
the same, so that the fighting continued for several hours before Klo
was able to overcome Koklovi. He was at last successful, however, and
securely bound Koklovi before he left him.
Then, taking his great pot, he filled it with wine. Finding that there
was more wine than the pot would hold, Klo foolishly drank all the
rest. He then piled the palm-trees on his back and set out for the
palace with the pot of wine. The amount which he had drunk, however,
made him feel so sleepy and tired that he could not walk fast with his
load. Added to this, a terrible rain began to fall, which made the
ground very slippery and still more difficult to travel over.
By the time Klo succeeded in reaching his master’s palace the gates
were shut and locked. Mauri, finding it so late, had concluded that
every one was inside.
There were many people packed into the great hall, and all were singing
and dancing. The noise of the concert was so great that no one heard
Klo’s knocking at the gate, and there he had to stay with his great
load of wine and palm-trees.
The rain continued for nearly two months and was so terrible that the
people all remained in the palace till it had finished. By that time
Klo had died, under the weight of his load—which he had been unable to
get off his back. There he lay, before the gate, with the pile of
palm-trees on top of him.
When the rain ceased and the gates were opened the people were amazed
to see this great mound in front of the gate, where before there had
been nothing. They fetched spades and began to shovel it away.
When they came to the bottom of the pile there lay Klo. His earthenware
pot and the dust had caked together and formed quite a hard cover on
his back.
He was taken into the palace—and by the use of many wonderful medicines
he was restored to life. But since that date he has never been able to
stand upright. He has been a creeping creature, with a great shell on
his back.