CUNNIE RABBIT, MR. SPIDER AND THE OTHER BEEF
[Illustration: A GHOST STORY.
[_See Chap. XI._]
]
CUNNIE RABBIT, MR. SPIDER
AND THE OTHER BEEF
WEST AFRICAN FOLK TALES
BY
FLORENCE M. CRONISE
AND
HENRY W. WARD
_ILLUSTRATIONS BY GERALD SICHEL_
[Illustration]
LONDON
SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO. LIM.
NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.
1903
_Printed by The Motley Press, 18, Eldon Street, E.C._
PREFACE
This little volume is sent forth with many misgivings. It claims
neither literary excellence nor an entrancing theme, but professes
fidelity to truth, and a desire to call attention to certain quaint and
interesting phases of the inner life of a much misunderstood race.
In the compilation of these folk-lore tales, the one aim has been to
make them accessible to English readers, and at the same time to retain
as much as possible of their native grace and quaintness.
To accomplish this aim, the stories have been told in the dialect used
by the people in their intercourse with the English, and an attempt has
been made to embody the tales in a native setting with local atmosphere
and colour. In addition it has seemed necessary to make a rather
copious use of footnotes and explanations.
Much care has been exercised not to modify the spirit and real content
of the stories. The plots and the clever little inventions are wholly
native. It has seemed advisable to select only a few of the more
readable stories, in the hope that they may win the sympathy of the
general reader, rather than to attempt an extended collection that
would discourage all but special students of folk-lore.
The stories themselves possess much intrinsic merit; if they fail to
enlist the reader, the fault must be ascribed to the compilers.
The sole credit for discovering and collecting the stories is due to
Miss Cronise; the arrangements of the stories here presented, and their
setting, have been largely the work of Mr. Ward.
The authors are under many obligations to Mr. Alfred Sumner, a native
African now in this country at college, whose intimate acquaintance
with the life and customs of his people proved most helpful; also
to Rev. D. F. Wilberforce, a native missionary, who has long been
interested in the oral literature of his country, and in consequence
has been able to give us suggestions of unusual value. To Miss Minnie
Eaton of Moyamba Mission, and to other friends, who spared no pains
to place desired information within our reach, and especially to the
Mission boys and girls in Africa whose sympathetic interest made this
collection a possibility, the gratitude of the authors is due.
FLORENCE M. CRONISE.
HENRY W. WARD.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
INTRODUCTION 1
I. WHEN THE NIGHT HAS COME 37
MR. SPIDER WINS A WIFE.
II. WITH THE SPIRITS OF THE WOOD 50
GORO, THE WONDERFUL WRESTLER.
MR. SPIDER A CLEVER TRADER.
MR. TURTLE MAKES A RIDING-HORSE OF MR.
LEOPARD.
III. A BACK-YARD KITCHEN 77
CUNNING RABBIT AND HIS WELL.
GOATS OF THE WOOD AND OF THE TOWN.
IV. EVENING ON THE WATER 96
SPIDER DISCOVERS THE WAX GIRL.
MR. CHAMELEON IS TRANSFORMED INTO A
BOAT.
SPIDER, ELEPHAN' EN PAWPAWTÁMUS.
V. A PURRO INITIATION 124
CUNNING RABBIT BECOMES A KING.
MR. SPIDER INITIATES THE FOWLS.
VI. THE BURNING OF THE FARM 147
SPIDER TRIES TO BRUSH THE DEVIL'S FARM.
THE DEVIL TURNS PIGEON.
VII. MAMMY MAMENAH AND HER FRIENDS 165
A STONE THAT WORE A BEARD.
THE GIRL WHO PLAITED THE DEVIL'S BEARD.
"MARRY THE DEVIL, THERE'S THE DEVIL
TO PAY."
VIII. CHILDREN OF NATURE 188
THE THREE TWINS.
WHICH TWIN RESTORED HIS FATHER TO
LIFE.
WHICH ONE WAS MOST GREEDY.
MR. SPIDER CREATES A FRIGHTFUL TORNADO.
MR. LEOPARD SHOWS HIS HAND.
MR. LEOPARD FOOLS THE OTHER ANIMALS.
A CASE OF TIT FOR TAT.
DR. SPIDER'S FATAL PRESCRIPTIONS.
MR. SPIDER "PULLS" A SUPPLY OF MEAT.
IX. AN AFTERNOON IN THE BARREH 240
THE DANCING BIRD.
THE WICKED IS TAKEN IN HIS OWN SNARE.
AN OLD MAN TURNS ELEPHANT.
THE MAN WHO COULD NOT KEEP SECRETS.
X. KONAH TURNS STORY-TELLER 264
THE DEVIL'S MAGIC EGGS.
TOOTHACHE ENTAILED.
WHY MR. SPIDER'S WAIST IS SMALL.
XI. WHILE THE BIRDS DID NOT COME 281
MR. SPIDER SECURES A POWERFUL WITCH
MEDICINE.
MR. SPIDER GETS INTO TROUBLE AGAIN.
A GHOST STORY.
XII. A HARVEST HOME IN TEMNE-LAND 298
WATCH-POT AND GREEDY.
THE ORIGIN OF THE AXE.
XIII. KONAH HAS A WONDERFUL DAY 317
THE NEW VERSION OF EVE AND THE APPLE.
CUNNIE RABBIT
INTRODUCTION
The collection of folk-lore tales, from which the stories contained in
the present volume have been selected, was made by Miss Cronise while
a teacher in the mission school at Rotifunk, Protectorate of Sierra
Leone, West Africa; a mission under the control of the Woman's Board of
the United Brethren Church.
The stories were collected without the remotest thought of offering
them for publication. The first motive was a desire to enter more
intimately into the life and mental habits of the people whom she was
to instruct. This motive was soon reinforced by the attractiveness of
the stories themselves, and by the fascinating manner in which they
were told.
The tales were gathered from the mission children, most of whom
had been brought from native homes farther inland, and from adult
employees of the mission who had been long enough in contact with these
white people to be found worthy of entire confidence, and to give their
confidence in return.
Notwithstanding the many touches of English influence noticeable in
the stories, it is believed that the ones here presented are, in all
essentials, characteristically native. The same stories were heard
from different persons, under different circumstances, and with every
evidence of their being the spontaneous outflow of traditional lore.
Sometimes a tale already heard in detail from an adult, would be told
in mere outline by some child fresh from a hut of the forest.
A year or more had been spent among these people before it was
discovered that they possessed a distinct oral literature, and
considerably more time passed before any attempt was made to collect
and record it.
Missionaries had been in this section for fifty years, but being wholly
absorbed in more serious concerns, they were either unaware of this
native literature, or more probably looked upon it as a part of the
heathen superstition which they felt called upon to obliterate.
No one at all familiar with folk-lore, will need to be told of the
peculiar difficulties experienced in making the present collection.
Natives are instinctively suspicious of foreigners, and uneasy in their
presence, and not only must this natural barrier be broken down, but
there must spring up mutual understanding and sympathy, and outward
environments must be congenial before there can be any satisfactory
story-telling. The collection was made as opportunity offered, after
other duties were performed. Various devices had to be resorted to, the
commonest being to offer some attractive little inducement to a child
of the mission or adjacent town. The child, curled up on the floor,
or perched on any convenient object, would at once evince the most
sympathetic interest, and then it would be a simple matter to draw out
stories heard in the native wilds. By rapid writing, so abbreviated as
to approach shorthand, the narratives were taken down literally, word
for word. Then again, familiarity made it possible to sit near a group
of children gathered in the evening for talk and laughter, and there to
overhear the conundrums they propounded, and the stories they related
to one another. Sometimes an adult could be induced to relate stories
for an evening. One such story was a portion of a loosely connected
narrative, the whole of which would occupy the evenings of an entire
week.
Two years of patient endeavor brought to light one hundred and
twenty-five distinct stories. There was positive assurance of
unnumbered more being current among the people, and evidence was
occasionally found of the existence of another class of stories, such
as the missionary would not care to hear or to record.
It may be, then, that while the fables here given truthfully reflect
the life of the people, they do not reflect the whole life, but only
the better, purer part.
Strangely enough, during all the years that the English have been
in possession of West Africa, no one has taken the pains to collect
any considerable part of the oral literature that is particularly
abundant there. So far as we have been able to learn, practically
nothing has been done in all the Sierra Leone region, toward collecting
and publishing this great body of traditional literature. Schlenker
included seven tales in his "Temne Traditions" published in 1861, and
an occasional "Nancy Story" has appeared in Sierra Leone newspapers,
but no serious effort has been made toward a collection; and yet
perhaps no region of Africa is richer in native literature.
How completely this literature envelops the life of the people, may be
inferred from the fact that the youngest children in the mission were
found to possess the salient features of many stories, which they must
have acquired before being taken from their people.
These stories seem to be the chief source of entertainment, not only of
the young, but of the adult as well. The children of all races are fond
of fables and fairy-tales, and the black man in his native state is
always a child.
Whatever the distant origin of these legends and fables, it is plain
that they now serve as a pleasing diversion for leisure hours, and
gratify the natural hunger of the human mind for representations of
its own desires as realized, without being hampered by literal fact.
They fill even a larger place in the mental and ideal life of these
unlettered people, than the great mass of fictitious literature does
among more cultured races. There are many close parallels between
this native literature and fiction as it is found among civilized
peoples. Both allow a delightful freedom to the genius of the
story-teller--though the imagination of the African is representative
rather than creative,--both please by depicting some form of ideal
achievement, both make frequent appeals to the humorous and pathetic in
experience, and both furnish entertainment for hours of idleness, or
offer the soul an ideal refuge from life's hard and stern realities.
Among the Africans, story-telling is mainly a pastime. It flourishes
only under congenial environments and favoring conditions. These are
abundant leisure, a company of sympathizing listeners, and freedom from
excitement.
Story-telling most often springs spontaneously from the chat, when
a number of persons are together with nothing particular to do;
sometimes, however, time and place are appointed. Stories may be told
whenever circumstances are favorable, but as conditions are most
inviting when darkness is in possession of the outer world, most of the
story-telling takes place at night. If the moon shines, its light is
sufficient; should the night be dark or chill, fires are kindled, and
in the flickering light of these, picturesque groups of natives may
be seen, brought together by some impulse which they do not stop to
question. Before the group breaks up, stories are quite likely to be
started, and naturally one will draw out another, each furnishing the
inspiration and the excuse for the next. The social instinct of the
negro is very strong, and it leads him to seek the companionship of his
fellows as often as possible. Crowded together in village communities,
with few and irregular demands upon their time, and with instinctive
hospitality and friendliness, the black tribes cultivate without
conscious effort, their native traditions and fanciful literature. Any
one may relate these tales, either as one is suggested to his mind,
or on request of some one present; yet in many communities, there
are persons so well versed in these common myths and legends, and so
gifted in rehearsing them, that they are looked upon as the village
story-tellers, and are expected to do most of the reciting. If the
people know that a person so gifted is among them, they go and beg him
for a story, offering him some present--perhaps tobacco, kola nuts,
cowry shells, which are used as currency, or some other small article.
Then they build a great fire and sit around it while the story is told.
We have it also on good native authority, that there are occasionally
professionals who make their living by going from village to village,
and exchanging for food and shelter, stories interspersed with songs.
Many of these African troubadours display remarkable dramatic power.
Voice, eyes, face, hands, head, and indeed the whole person aid in
giving force to the words.
The reader will greatly enhance his pleasure in the perusal of the
following tales, if he will give his own imagination full play, and
will supply what the narrator added by the manner of his delivery.
Riddles and story-telling are not infrequently continued throughout
the entire night, and in connection with an unusual occasion, such as
the funeral ceremonies of some distinguished person, or the marriage
festivities of a similar personage. They may be protracted for several
nights.
Many little songs, or rather choruses, occur in the stories. These
are rendered in a kind of chanting measure, a weird melody, usually
accompanied by a rhythmical clapping of the hands. They are invariably
short, usually in the minor key, and, in the longer stories, are
repeated at intervals, seemingly to give variety and animation to the
narrative. It makes a peculiar impression upon the distant listener to
hear these periodical choruses break forth suddenly on the night air,
and just as suddenly cease.
The songs are invariably given in the native language, and the crude
attempt at translation given by the narrator, fails utterly to
reproduce their musical qualities.
Negro folk-lore, whether in Africa or America, consists largely of
animal stories, in which human qualities and characteristics are
ascribed to the various animals. In the Temne legends, the Spider, the
Cunning Rabbit, the Deer, the Leopard, the Turtle, the Elephant, the
Lizard, the Chameleon, the Cat and the Hawk appear very frequently,
while many other animals, birds and insects are introduced. It appears
to be assumed, throughout the stories, that there was a time when
all animals dwelt together in a single community, until some of the
animals began to prey upon the others, thus scattering them over the
face of the earth, creating enmities, and destroying the power to
understand one another. The communities were organized with king and
headmen, and had houses and farms, occupations and wants, like the men
of later times.
Several accounts are given of how the animals came to be dispersed. The
one contained in this collection, of Mister Spider and his powerful
witch medicine, is evidently, in part at least, a late invention. It
represents Spider in his usual rôle of devising some cunning scheme
for securing a supply of food for himself and family. In this instance
he procures a gun and ammunition, and announces that he has secured a
medicine to kill off the witches that infest the town; and thus, under
pretence of rendering the community a valuable service, he begins to
kill and to devour the animals one by one. They finally take alarm, and
flee to different parts of the earth.
Another story, bearing the marks of greater antiquity, represents the
animals as living together in peace and harmony, until the Leopard
develops a taste for fresh meat, and begins to prey upon the other
animals. They hold a council, and finally decide to take the only
boat in existence, and to remove to an island of the sea, leaving Mr.
Leopard alone on the mainland. Every day some one is left to guard the
boat, while the others are away procuring food. Once, while the Deer
is left on guard, Leopard comes to the shore, and in a disguised voice
calls for the boat to be brought across. Mr. Deer, always represented
in these stories as being extremely stupid, is deceived, and rows the
boat across. Of course Mr. Leopard devours the unfortunate Deer, seizes
the boat and plans a general feast when the animals return to the
village at night. To save themselves, they scatter in every direction,
and thus animals become dispersed over the earth.
Hereafter the animals appear to have had dealings with each other, more
or less, but were never again united, although there is mention of
their gathering for special purposes on several occasions.
The stories frequently assume to account for the peculiar traits or
physical characteristics of the various animals; as, for instance, why
the Deer coughs, why the Leopard is spotted, why the Spider is flat
and why his waist is small, why the Elephant's tusks protrude, and why
the Turtle's shell is rough and scarred.
Certain definite qualities and characteristics are ascribed to
particular animals, and to these they hold consistently through all
the stories. The Deer is always stupid and helpless; the Elephant
enormously strong but lacking in mental acuteness; the Cunning Rabbit
intelligent and lovable; and the Spider shrewd, designing, selfish, and
sometimes vindictive and cruel.
It is noticeable that the weak and helpless creatures are made to
prevail against the strong and mighty, not by any use of force, but by
cleverness and cunning. Thus Mr. Spider defeats both the Elephant and
the Hippopotamus in a pulling match, by the clever ruse of challenging
them, in turn, to a trial of strength, proposing to draw the Elephant
from the shore to the water, and the Hippopotamus from the water to
the shore. The Spider procures a rope so long that neither antagonist
can see the other. At the appointed time he ties one end of it to the
Elephant, and says that when he is ready to begin the contest, he will
give the signal by shaking the rope; then going to the water's edge, he
ties the other end to the Hippopotamus, giving the same instructions.
Finally, going to the middle of the rope, he gives the signal, and the
struggle begins, while Mr. Spider enjoys the sport from behind a tree,
to which place of safety he has had the good judgment to retreat.
As the two monsters are so equally matched in strength, the struggle
continues, with advantage to neither, until both are completely
exhausted and fall down dead. Mr. Spider, viewing the results of his
cleverness, soliloquises: "Yo' pass me fo' 'trong, but aintee I pass
yo' fo' sense?"
The victims of this cunning supply food to Mr. Spider and his family
throughout the famine, and that indeed was the Spider's purpose in
the ruse. The story throws in the gratuitous information that the
Spider cast into the water such portions of the carcasses as were not
desirable for food, and from these pieces came fish, the first of their
kind.
Mental superiority counts for more than mere brute force, even where
there is a direct trial of strength, as in the story of "Cunning
Rabbit and his Well." The other animals come to wrestle with Cunning
Rabbit for the privilege of taking water from his well, but on account
of his "sense," Cunning Rabbit is always victor, even to hurling the
Elephant into the air, although the latter tried to hold himself down
by wrapping his trunk around a tree.
Sometimes a necromantic spell is called in to aid the weaker, as in the
case of Goro, the Wrestler, in which the song of incantation chanted by
the mother, enables the child to prevail.
It satisfies the ethical sense of all people, to represent helpless
innocence as finally triumphant over the selfish power of might.
Perhaps the black race has more than usual reason for representing in
its imaginative literature, that cunning, craft and cleverness are
the qualities most to be admired and cultivated. It has always been
an oppressed people, defenceless in the contest with wild beasts,
without adequate resources in the struggle with nature, and helpless
against the cruelties of their more aggressive fellowmen. Little wonder
that they exalt cunning, deception and craft. If there is a dash of
viciousness in these, all the better. It is only poetic retribution.
Consequently the African is taught dissimulation as a fine art, and
cunning as the most worthy of accomplishments.
The Spider appears to be the national hero, the impersonation of
the genius of the race. To him are ascribed the qualities most
characteristic of the people, or those most to be desired: cunning,
sleeplessness, almost immortality, an unlimited capacity for eating,
and an equal genius for procuring the necessary supplies. He possesses
a charmed life, and escapes from all intrigue. He is a tireless weaver,
and has spun the thread of his personality into all the warp and woof
of the national life. With him the adults associate most of their
traditions, while the children love him, and push him tenderly aside if
he chances to come in their way. He is inclined to be lazy, and refuses
to lift even the lightest burden if it is in the nature of work; if it
is something to eat, he can carry the carcass of an elephant with the
greatest ease.
The Spider occupies the same place in the folk-lore of West Africa, as
does Brer Rabbit in the tales of the southern negro, and as Annancy
holds among the negroes of the West Indies, or Hlakanyana among the
Kaffirs of South Africa. A comparative study of these several heroes
and the literature gathered about them, would be extremely interesting
and profitable, but would carry us beyond the bounds set for this
introduction.
Mr. Harris, in his introduction to "Nights With Uncle Remus," has
pointed out the essential identity of Brer Rabbit and Hlakanyana. There
is perhaps a closer parallel between the Spider of the Temne tales,
and Annancy, the hero of the West Indian stories. A comparison of Mr.
Spider and Brer Rabbit reveals many similarities and some differences,
the latter due no doubt to the mellowing influence of contact with a
finer civilization, an influence that has softened the character of
the transplanted negro, and wrought the same change in the hero of his
stories. Both are exceedingly clever, and equal to any emergency. Brer
Rabbit, however, is inoffensive in his mischief, and very properly
gets out of every scrape without serious consequences. If ever he gets
others into trouble, it is to save himself, or to settle an old score.
Mr. Spider's cunning has at times a touch of viciousness in it. It
sometimes overreaches itself, and brings Mr. Spider to grief, though
never to destruction.
Cunning Rabbit rivals Mr. Spider in shrewdness and wit, and in the
reverence and esteem given him by the people. In pure intelligence and
in amiability of disposition he is without a peer. He is uniformly
pronounced "King of de beef fo' wise, oh!" He and Mr. Spider are
usually on amicable terms, but when their interests clash there is a
notable contest of wits. The natives say: "Two cunnie meet up, de one
cunnie, de odder cunnie," but Cunning Rabbit always has a shade the
better of it in the end.
We have found it very difficult to identify this little creature,
called by the natives "Cunnie Rabbit." It is evidently not a rabbit
at all, but the water deerlet or chevrotain, noted for its nimbleness
and cunning. It is about eighteen inches long, slender and graceful
in form, with a soft fawn-colored skin, and the daintiest of legs and
feet. The little creature is very difficult to secure. Its shyness,
fleetness and cunning have led the natives to invest it with a sort of
veneration.
A fragment of skeleton submitted to Dr. F. W. True, Head Curator
Department of Biology, Smithsonian Institution, was pronounced to
belong to Hyomoschus Aquaticus, an animal peculiar to West Africa.
It would be the merest conjecture to surmise that this water deerlet,
the Cunning Rabbit of African folk-lore, may be the ancestor of Brer
Rabbit, as the negroes of the South portray him, and yet there is a
shadow of evidence for such belief. The negroes might have transferred
the qualities of their Cunning Rabbit to the American hare, because of
the similarity of their popular names. It certainly requires a very
friendly eye to see in the hare all the mental acumen accredited by the
negroes to Brer Rabbit.
To students of comparative folk-lore, these little stories will furnish
much food for reflection. They probably come as nearly fresh from the
hearts of a primitive people, and are as little modified by outside
influences, as any collection made in recent times.
To the oft-repeated question as to how the story was learned, and
whence it came, the uniform answer was: "Oh, please, Missus, f'om
_f-a-r_ up country," with a much prolonged emphasis on the "far," and
an intonation that expressed wonder at such a question's being asked,
as all such stories must come from the infinitely remote in space and
time.
It will be observed that very many of the stories in this collection
are almost identical with a number of the tales in the "Uncle Remus"
series, and with a few in the "Annancy Stories," to say nothing of
likenesses found in the folk-lore of the American Indians, and the very
natural similarity between these tales and those current among the
negroes of other portions of Africa.
The "Tar Baby" story, which seems to be in the oral literature of
all African tribes, and a standard among the folk-lore tales of all
peoples, appears here as the "Wax Girl."
The incidents leading up to the encounter of Mr. Spider with the Wax
Girl, differ from the preliminaries in the story of Brer Rabbit and the
Tar Baby, but the encounter itself is the same in both. The outcome
also differs in the two stories, but in each is entirely consistent
with the story as a whole. Brer Rabbit has been guilty of no offence
that deserves punishment, so he suffers only temporary humiliation,
and finally regains simultaneously his freedom and his prestige, by
inducing Mr. Fox to fling him into the brier patch. Mr. Spider, on
the other hand, has practised gross deception, and has appropriated
to his own use what should have been shared with others, so he very
appropriately receives as punishment an unmerciful flogging at the
hands of the outraged community.
Mr. Spider's feat of strength in his contest with the Elephant and the
Hippopotamus, already referred to, is a variant of the same contest
between Mr. Terrapin and Mr. Bear.
The Temne story of the Turtle making a riding-horse of Mr. Leopard,
finds its parallel in Brer Rabbit's riding Brer Fox, as told by "Uncle
Remus," and in the "Annancy Stories," by Pamela Colman Smith, where
Annancy rides the Tiger.
In one instance Mr. Leopard feigns death, and when the other animals
gather around to wail for him, he seizes and devours them. This is much
like Mr. Wildcat's attempt to secure the wild turkey by the same ruse.
It must suffice to have mentioned a few variants only, although there
are many more of the same nature. If anything further were needed
to prove that the folk-tales of the American negroes were brought
with them from Africa, the striking parallels in the tales of the two
countries ought to supply the proof.
The magic nuts, or eggs, or other articles, which appear in the
folk-lore of most races, and which on being opened let out, at one
time a profusion of all things desired--riches, fine houses, servants
etc., and at other times, reptiles, insects, and cruel monsters, are
also found among these tales. The story of the devil's magic eggs is a
representative of this class. In another story the bangah-nuts take the
place of the eggs.
There are also traces of the "half thing" conception. In one story a
man's possessions consisted of half things of various kinds, a half
pot, a half bowl, everything half. A bird that possessed magic power,
befriended the poor man, and transformed the "bush" into a village
filled with riches, to be his on condition of never disturbing the
bird's egg. The condition is finally violated, and the man, made
utterly destitute, learns that half a thing is better than none. In
the story contained in this collection, in which a young girl marries
a devil, it will be noted that the devil in taking human form, was
compelled to supply his hideous deficiency by borrowing half a head,
one foot, one hand, everything half; and after his successful wooing,
when he approached his own home, with his bride, all the half things
that he had borrowed fell off one by one, until finally "all t'ing nah
heen skin bin lef half."
In all the stories we possess, there is only one mention of the
divining mirror. It is employed by a lover, and startles him by
revealing his loved one lying dead.
It may aid the reader to appreciate these fables from Temne-Land, if a
few paragraphs of this introduction be given to a brief discussion of
the peculiar beliefs, customs, and environments of the people who have
formulated the stories, and who repeat them with never-dying interest.
If we could get a true and complete picture of the black man's
mental and moral world from his view point, we should be able to
confer a measureless boon upon all those who must deal with him; but
unfortunately we have no such good gift to offer. The negro character
is so perverse and enigmatical that it defies satisfactory analysis.
The stories themselves will furnish the best kind of information on
these points, and to the serious student, this perhaps will be their
chief value. However a summary of a few of the facts available will
not be amiss. What is said, though applicable directly to the Temnes,
will be true in a general sense of all the surrounding tribes, and
in a limited way of all the race. As a people, the Temnes are filled
exceedingly with innate pride and natural dignity, and love to be
noticed and honored. They are fond of riches as they understand them,
and are shrewd traders. Their wealth consists of wives, slaves, cows,
and goats, and these they value in the order named. Mentally they are
bright and quick-witted, though only as concerns the reproductive
powers of the mind; for independent thinking they have little capacity.
The memory powers are especially strong and persistent. The black man
keeps in his head records that a white man would be compelled to write
in a book.
The native African has few ambitions beyond the satisfying of his
appetites, and the gratification of his sensual desires. Contentment
with his lot is the bane of his life, so far as any hope of improvement
is concerned, and yet these stories reveal glimmerings of better
things, and a capacity to formulate ideals. It is not an easy matter to
know the impulses that lie deep within the breast of any people,--the
central life impulses, out of which flow all desires and motives, and
all standards of happiness. It is still more difficult to get at this
central impulse in an uncivilized people, because heathenism renders
the soul-life of its adherents extremely difficult to understand.
The literature of a people is the best revelation of its soul-life,
especially of the ideals it would consciously or unconsciously set up.
It is in this fact that such collections as the one here offered, find
their greatest worth.
The inner life of the African is so completely under the control of
his superstitious beliefs, that to comprehend it adequately, one must
understand all the hideous network of superstitions that envelop the
whole life of the people.
Mr. Alfred Sumner, an educated native, has kindly furnished us the
following facts concerning this phase of the life of his people.
"All the people believe in signs and omens, good and bad; every
occurrence that is a little beyond the ordinary, or seems a little
strange, must receive some interpretation from the natives. In fact,
occurrences that are not beyond the natural, so long as they do not
happen every day, are the sign of something. The withering of a tree,
the falling of a fence, the stumbling against something in the road,
the ringing of the ear, the dancing of the eyelid, the itching palm,
two babies laughing at each other; these and many more things that
time would fail us to mention, mean something to the native; tokens of
good, warnings of calamity near. The cry of the witch bird, and the
"cluck, cluck, cluck" of the boa-constrictor, mean the certain death
of someone. If one should be killed by lightning on the road, persons
passing the spot from that time on, must pluck a leaf or a small
branch and throw it there to avert the same death. Some parts of a
road have been entirely abandoned and new paths made on this account.
One dare not sew his cloth while it is on his body, lest a relative
of his die. There are many more, to us silly superstitions, in which
the natives fully believe. To them they are signs and wonders. Some
are easy to interpret, others must come under the prophetic eye of the
"country-fashion" man--a man who interprets signs and wonders either by
spiritual means, or on sand, or with stones. All sorts of charms are
made and worn. Various articles are used in their composition--such
as oil, leaves, beads, hair, finger-nails, toe-nails etc. Most of the
charms the women put on in Africa, are merely small bits of paper with
Mohammedan writing, wrapped in a piece of soft leather. They are either
to ward off evil, or to bring about luck, according to the writing
on the paper. All the "Sebbehs"--that is, the flat, regularly formed
charms--are made in this way. Not all of the charms are to be seen
by everybody; some are very private, and must be worn next the skin.
The "hoodoos" and "fetiches" are of more importance than the ordinary
charms, and their composition is more complex, consisting of leaves,
barks, roots, horns and bones, either of man or beast, or of both, all
carefully placed in a country-pot made of clay, and kept from every eye
save that of the owners and perhaps near relatives. These fetiches may
serve as gods, and are believed to have the power to return evil for
evil to any one who may harm their owners. What is called "gree-gree"
is a fetich that is employed by its owner to revenge any wrong received
by him. The "He-ge-de" is considered to have the power of self-motion,
and of attacking in a death-combat the one to whom it is sent. These
charms may be used by any one, irrespective of rank or age; but some of
them are very costly, and only the rich can afford them. The leopard's
teeth are considered very great and valuable ornaments--pearls of great
price; and natives are loth to sell them. They may well be called their
diamonds, as they not infrequently calculate their wealth by the number
of leopard's teeth owned."
It is thus seen that the natives are born, reared, and die in nameless
terror of unseen powers that teem in woods, fields and towns. Their
spirits are legion. A few of these are believed to be good, the
majority bad, exceedingly bad. It is the greater part of their
existence to circumvent the evil spirits, and to win the favor of the
good. The tiniest babe is decorated with strings, shells, or bits of
wood, supposed to possess the power to ward off evils which mother-arms
cannot avert. Those of maturer years, even down to old age, often
sacrifice to conciliate they know not what.
Sickness is believed to be caused by a witch. If one is seized with
serious illness, a witch-doctor is called in to exorcise the evil
spirit; failing in thus obtaining relief, the next resort is to
incantations and ordeals, to discover who is guilty of bewitching the
afflicted one, some individual being held guilty of bringing on the
malady.
The power of the witch-doctor is considered absolute, and woe to the
unfortunate one that falls under his ill-will. He is believed to
possess the power of double vision, and to be able to see spirits,
and to know their doings. Never is the power and efficiency of his
incantations doubted. His exorbitant fees are paid with a cheerfulness
that would quite astound a Christian doctor. A curse pronounced in
the name of a witch-medicine is supposed to be relentless towards the
one against whom it is directed. The following is a good example of a
native curse.
"Oh, thou medicine, the person who stole this my rice, cloth, lamp,
fruit, bed, or pot, I give this person into your hands. If you leave
this person you leave your fowl (used in sacrifice). I swear the
person's lungs, heart and liver. If the person goes to work, let him
cut himself, and if he goes to war let him be killed; everything he
does, let evil come upon him."
The "Country-fashion" man, also, is supposed to possess the power
of double vision, but of a slightly different kind. He can see the
mysterious occult powers that operate beyond the reach of ordinary
vision. He is therefore prophet and seer, the interpreter of signs and
omens, and various mysterious occurrences.
In the social relations of the people, a loose caste system prevails,
based chiefly upon might. The chief exacts obedience and service from
all beneath him. Men make servants of women, and of other weaker men.
In a polygamous household, the head wife regards the other wives as her
inferiors and servants, while each wife makes practical slaves of her
own children. The older children in turn exact service of the younger.
He is poor indeed, who cannot find another weaker than himself to do
his bidding. Society is a pyramid with the weakest at the bottom, and
the strongest at the top.
It remains to make the necessary explanations of the dialect of the
stories, and with that this introduction must close.
The general reader may feel like protesting against the use of a
dialect that presents so many difficulties, and the philologist will
object to the form employed, as being too much influenced by English
associations to represent the dialect of the people in its native
purity.
To both classes of readers our apology may seem weak and inadequate.
In the first place, the stories would lose much of their vitality and
force if the flavor of the peculiar mental qualities of the people who
tell them should be lost by an attempt at translation. The ideal means
of expression would be the vigorous and picturesque native tongue, did
it not exclude all but the initiated from sharing the stories. The next
best thing is to allow the native mind to express itself in its own
adaptation of a foreign language.
As to the form the dialect has been allowed to take, it may be said
that it differs from that used by the people in daily conversation,
only as formal English differs from the colloquial. There is a little
nearer approach to subordination of clauses than is found in ordinary
conversation, and a larger per cent of English words is employed,
as might be expected from those who have had some training in that
language. This necessarily involves an inconsistency, inasmuch as
the stories are represented as being told by natives in their native
environment; but as the whole undertaking has presented peculiar
difficulties, some degree of allowance may be expected.
The dialect is that of the Temne people, and is essentially the
dialect of Sierra Leone, from which it was derived. Each new tribe,
in learning the dialect, modified it slightly, so that, although it
is perfectly intelligible to all the tribes using it, an attempt to
represent the words phonetically, reveals many differences. Wherever
the pronunciation of common words, such as "make," "take," "come" etc.,
very closely approximates the English usage, we have not hesitated to
give the correct English form.
The whole dialect is a hopeless jumble of English and African words.
It is very much condensed, almost stenographic in its brevity, and
requires the aid of voice and gesture to round it out to like-life
fulness. This requirement, the native temperament, being emotional and
picturesque, meets to perfection. These accessories the imagination of
the reader must supply, if he is to receive the keenest pleasure from
the perusal of the stories.
With the native, a common device of expression is the repetition of the
emphatic word or phrase, or else its very much prolonged utterance.
The word "Sotáy"--accent on the last syllable--when used in the sense
of "a long time," is prolonged until the very utterance conveys the
impression desired. Naturally, the vocabulary is very meager. There
are no words to express shades of meaning. Every thing that in any
way pleases the eye is "fine." Every thing that pleases the taste,
either literally or figuratively, is "sweet." Rice is "sweet," pepper
is "sweet," and fighting is "sweet." Gender is ignored. "He" stands
for "he," "she," or "it," indiscriminately. "Me Mammy he go bring
yo' him son Mary, to-morrow." Idea of number is rudimentary. "He" is
uniformly singular, and "dem" is usually plural. "Um" occurs often
in the objective singular, but the variation in number appears to
be purely accidental. "Dey" is rarely used for the pronoun "they,"
although to avoid confusion it has been allowed to appear quite
frequently in the stories. "Dem" and "den" are used interchangeably
for "they," and since there is no distinction in case, they may also
be used for them. "Den" is seldom used for "then," but is usually a
pronoun. The reader will need to exercise special care on this point.
For the adverb "there," the natives invariably use "deh." There is a
peculiar use of an auxiliary that will need careful notice. Its sound
is between that of "dey" and "duh;" the latter has been chosen. "He duh
come" means "He is coming," or "He comes," in the historical present.
However, laws of language are trampled on with utmost unconcern. "Go"
is used occasionally as a sign of the future. "He go come" meaning "he
will come," and "he go go," "he will go." Certain words are repeated
to form a single expression, as "so-so," meaning "merely," "nothing
but." "San'-san'" is sand, and "bug-a-bug" is the white ant. Idiomatic
expressions occur frequently, and unless mastered at once, may prove
confusing; once understood, they are very expressive. "He no tay"
means "it does not stay," that is, Time does not linger, or, It is
but a short time. "Pass" is used in all comparisons, in the sense of
surpass, excel, exceed, etc.; as--"Spider pass Elephan' fo' sense,"
"I pass yo' fo' 'trong." "Pull" is employed in the peculiar sense of
"produce," "devise," "create," as: "He pull one big holler," "He pull
dis sense," "God pull de people," referring to the creation of Adam
and Eve. "No mo'" is an expression frequently found, and although no
single English expression can cover the meaning in all of its uses, it
signifies "only that and nothing more." "He de one man no mo'" means
"only he and no one else." "So-so san'-san' no mo'," "entirely sand,
nothing more."
But of these expressions there are not many, so the difficulty in
mastering them will not be great. It has often been difficult to find a
spelling that represents correctly the sound desired. The natives never
say "house," but always "ho'se," giving "s" its sibilant sound. With
the further aid of the vocabulary printed at the end of the volume,
there should be little difficulty in reading the stories.
It may be said in conclusion, that no one can be more conscious of the
fragmentary nature of the literature presented in this volume, or of
the faulty manner of its presentation, than are the authors themselves.
F. M. C.
H. W. W.
_Toledo, Iowa._
CHAPTER I
WHEN THE NIGHT HAS COME
The African day was lingering for a brief moment in a tropical
twilight, as if reluctant to give over a world of natural beauty to
the impenetrable darkness of a moonless, forest night. The mud huts of
the native village, with their conical, palm-thatched roofs, showed in
the fading twilight like great shocks of harvested grain in a little
field fenced in by a high hedge of trees. Narrow foot-paths--the only
suggestion of streets--wound irregularly through the village, and in
these, children, innocently nude, were romping, and chasing each other
with all the noisy delight of that care-free age. Men and women, led by
their inclination to gossip, or by an instinctive shrinking from the
gathering darkness, were unconsciously drifting into groups about fires
that had been kindled here and there in the irregular open spaces.
Other light the village had none, and the little fires seemed only to
exaggerate the thick curtain of gloom that was now drawing around the
place. The countless invisible and mysterious forces that control the
destiny of the unfortunate black man, seemed to be taking on bodily
shapes, and to be stealing forth under cover of the night to work their
spells through forest and earth and air. Out of the stilly darkness
came myriad voices of the night--familiar ones from within the village,
the explosive chant and monotonous beat of the drum that accompanied a
weird tribal dance, or the shouts of irrepressible childhood still at
play, or more often the hum of conversation that told of the sway of
gossip, or the fascination of myth and story. Anon came the awesome,
half-terrifying voices from the outer night--the uncanny insect chorus,
or the distant call of wild beasts, speaking to one another a language
that seemed full of meaning, but which the human ear had lost the power
to understand.
To-night the voices possessed a peculiar fascination for the group
gathered around Sobah's fire. Coarse banter and desultory gossip had
ceased to interest; the spirit of the night was upon them, and the
voices from the darkness seemed to address them personally, and to
assert the kinship of all creatures. It scarcely needed the accumulated
traditions of untold generations to convince these listeners that
their ancestors had once possessed the ability to comprehend their
fellow-creatures, and so had dwelt on terms of equality and friendship
with them. As it was, Sobah and his friends did not trouble themselves
about beliefs, but in imagination passed easily and naturally into that
realm where all creatures spoke a common language, and possessed common
needs and attributes.
For some time Sobah had been sitting in silence, wholly absorbed in his
own mental processes. Suddenly an inspiration seemed to stir him. He
tossed back his head, his eyes began to sparkle, and his face to glow
with the anticipated delight of the story that had come to him from the
depths of his capacious memory. These significant preliminaries were
quickly noted. "He duh get story," was the warning exclamation passed
around the group. Every eye was at once riveted upon Sobah's face, and
every countenance took on a look of eager expectancy.
Konah, a bright-eyed, ebony-hued beauty of thirteen years, who all her
life had seemed to possess the supernatural power of being present
unnoted whenever anything new or marvellous was to be seen or heard,
came up just at this moment, led by unerring instinct, and settled down
unobserved in the shadow, ready to absorb every word.
Casting a dignified glance around the company, to assure himself that
all were properly attentive, Sobah proceeded to relate the wonderful
exploits of Mr. Spider, in meeting the requirements of his prospective
mother-in-law.
MR. SPIDER WINS A WIFE
"One ooman get girl pickin (pickaninny). Dis girl done do fo' married,
but no man no deh (there) wey (who) able fo' married um, because de
mammy no 'gree. Well, Spider come, he say he go married de girl, en de
mammy answer um, say:
"'Yo' mus' fus' do dis t'ree t'ing; bring Lion teet' wey fresh wid
blood 'pon um, en sass-wood palm-wine, en bowman'" (boa-constrictor).
Here the story was interrupted by a chorus of "Eh! eh's!" and other
exclamations of wonder at the impossibility of each of the three
conditions imposed.
"Lion 'trong too much," protested Dogbah, who was sadly wanting in the
imaginative quality, and demanded hard, prosaic fact, "Spider no able
fo' get heen teet' fresh wid blood 'pon um."
Gondomah, who was of a rather silent and thoughtful turn, said
meditatively, as if speaking to himself:
"Palm-tree no get banana, sass-wood no get palm-wine." It was his way
of asserting the impossibility of securing palm-wine from the poisonous
sass-wood.
"Spider leelee (little) too much fo' bring big, big bowman," was the
verdict of Oleemah, and yet his tone contradicted his words.
Sobah silenced the interruptions with the pertinent question: "Aintee
Spider pass all fo' cunnie? He able fo' do um." Then he proceeded:
"Spider say he go try fo' all dem t'ing fo' get de girl. He go inside
one big forest wey (where) all de beef (animals) duh (do) pass. He make
leelee fiah by de road. De part wey de smoke duh go he make good bench,
so de beef kin sit down. He say: Make dem come wa'm fiah,[1] de cole
too much, because nar (it is) rainy season. He say make dem no come
togedder, make dem come one one. He kare (carried) one hammer, heaby
one, wey he fo' hole wid two han'. He hide um. Well, den beef all duh
come. De' one he no wan' he no hit um, he jus' duh coax, make dem go
get de big beef fo' come. Well, w'en den beef all done come, w'en dey
duh wa'm fiah, dey go call Lion fo' say: 'Eh! Spider one good man, dis
make he duh make good fiah fo' we en we cumpin (companions).'
[1] Wa'm fiah, _i.e._ warm themselves by the fire.
"Well, one day Lion come, en Spider he make de smoke good fashion; put
plenty leaf deh. W'en Lion come he say:
"'Fren', I sorry fo' dah cole wey ketch yo'. Kahbo (welcome)! All day I
duh make good fiah fo' yo'.'
"Well, he go wipe de bench good fashion, he say, make Lion sit down fo'
wa'm fiah. De Lion sit down. Spider take mo' leaf, raw one, fo' make
smoke come out _plenty_. Dis yeah big smoke go 'pon Lion; he shut he
yi, he duh open he teet', he duh wa'm hese'f; he no know say Spider
duh watch um fo' hit um wid hammer 'pon heen teet'. Spider take de
hammer soffle (softly), he hit Lion _one_ tem, no mo', but dah hit wey
he _hit_ um! Lion he pull one big, big holler tay (until) all de groun'
duh shake. He spit heen teet' out 'pon de groun', he run!"
Sobah had been telling his story with voice, countenance, hands and
suggestive motions of his whole body, and as the climax approached,
his impressiveness increased. The hearers were shaking with suppressed
mirth, and when they saw the result of Spider's cunning, and Lion
beating an ignominious retreat, leaving his teeth behind him, they
could restrain the inevitable outburst of laughter no longer. Some of
the more excitable threw themselves upon the ground in an ecstasy of
delight. Konah had become so identified with her favorite, Mr. Spider,
and was so pleased with his success, that she forgot her own art of
cunning, and crept boldly out of the shadow.
Sobah chuckled contentedly, while the outburst was expending itself,
then went on.
"Spider hese'f run, he mean say de Lion go grip um. W'en he see Lion no
duh follow, he turn back, he take de teet', he kare um go to de ooman,
he say:
"'Look me, I done bring dah raw lion teet' wid de blood.'"
"De ooman say: 'All ret, but he lef' mo' t'ing fo' do. Go bring dah
sass-wood palm-wine.'
"Spider come out, he take heen ax, he sharp um, "Wahtah, wootah!
wahtah, wootah!"[2] He fine one sass-wood 'tick (tree), he klim 'pon
um, he dig hole, he come down. He go buy country-pot, big pot, he tie
big rope 'pon um, make um 'trong; ef he no 'trong bimeby de pot go fa'
down, he broke, because palm-wine go full um. W'en he done hang um he
no sleep all net, he go 'roun' to den people all, he tief (steals)
plenty palm-wine, he trow um 'way (empties it) inside de pot wey hang
to dah dry sass-wood 'tick, en he full dis pot wid de people yown
palm-wine[3] sotay he t'row 'way' nah groun'. He duh rub palm-wine
inside de hole, en 'pon de 'tick all. He tell one man say:
"'Make yo' follow me, look ef de palm-wine run.'"
[2] These words represent the sound made by sharpening the axe.
[3] Sotáy he trow 'way nah groun', _i.e._ until it overflows upon the
ground.
[Illustration: "Spider take the hammer soffle."
[_See p. 43, line 3._]
]
This bit of shrewdness on the part of Mr. Spider, Sobah unfolded with
intensest appreciation in tone and gesture, and was rewarded at this
point with grunts of satisfaction and approval from the listeners, and
with exclamations of unbounded admiration for the clever little hero
who could both steal and deceive without detection. As soon as the
silence told him they were ready for more, he proceeded.
"W'en dey go, dey meet de pot full. Spider tell heen cumpin fo' take
um down, en dey two dey tote um sotay (until) dey reach de ole ooman.
Spider pin (place) um down 'pon de groun', he say:
"'Mammy, look dah sass-wood palm-wine!'
"De ooman ax de man: 'Nar true?'
"He say: 'Yes, nar me see um wid me yown yi.'
"Well de ooman say:
"'Odder t'ing lef' yet fo' do befo' I gie yo' me pickin. Go bring live
Bowman.'
"Spider go nah puttah-puttah,[4] he look sotay (until) he jus' meet
Bowman, he say:
"'Fren', how do?'
[4] Puttah-puttah, _i.e._ black mud deposited upon the banks of rivers
or pools.
"Bowman answer um: 'Tankee!'
"Spider kare one long 'tick, big one, he say:
"'One day me bin say Bowman long pass dis 'tick, but me cumpin done
deny, dey say: "No, he no kin pass um fo' long." Make yo' lie down 'pon
de 'tick fo' try ef yo' pass de 'tick fo' long, or de 'tick pass yo'.'
"Well, Bowman lie down; Spider take leelee rope, he begin fo' tie
Bowman to heen neck, he say:
"'Nar play I duh play.[5] No make palaver, nar so I go tie yo' fo' make
yo' no ben' ben' any place, fo' make yo' lie 'traight 'pon dis 'tick.'
[5] _i.e._, It is play; I am playing; I am merely playing.
"Bowman 'gree; he lie down soffle. Spider no tie um 'trong, he jus' tie
um leelee tay he reach de tail side. He go back to de head, he draw de
rope tight, he say:
"'Aintee I bin tell yo' nar play I duh play? I kare yo' fo' go to dem
plenty people, fo' make den no deny me agin.'
"W'en Spider finish fo' tie um, Bowman no get 'trenk (strength),[6]
betty no dey agin fo' um. Spider tote um, he go gie um to dah mammy,
he mudder-in-law. W'en de ooman see Spider done bring Bowman, he call
plenty people, dey talk de palaver, dey say Spider do well, make de
mammy gie um de girl fo' married, en he gie um. Nar so Spider do fo' he
wef."
[6] _i.e._, There was no chance for improvement. It was a hopeless case.
Cold type does scant justice to the sympathetic tone and expressive
movements with which the story was told, or to the low chuckling laugh
with which its finer points were enforced.
Gratified by the pleasure his story had given, Sobah was content to
rest for the present, and after listening respectfully for some time to
his less gifted companions, left the group and disappeared within his
hut.
As the inclination seized them, the others strolled away into the
darkness. Careful Mammy Mamenah covered the fire, and soon the night
was given over to the undisputed possession of spirits and other
creatures of darkness.