EVENING ON THE WATER
Sobah was a born trader, in this respect exemplifying one of the
strongest propensities of his tribe. He had frequently made trading
trips "up country," and had sometimes taken a boat-load of produce even
to the markets of Freetown. To-day the spirit of commerce possessed
him again. Securing a crew of six to man his boat, he passed the day
in collecting his stores and stowing them away on board. Hampers of
rice, palm-oil, pepper, kola-nuts, country cloths, rubber and ivory,
the latter secured in barter from an "up country" chief, comprised the
cargo. A white fowl was placed in the bow of the boat, in the belief
that its presence would ensure a prosperous voyage.
Late in the afternoon, as the full tide was about to ebb, the boat
pushed out into the current, and the six sturdy boatmen settled
themselves for an all-night row to the mouth of the river. Soon their
oars were swinging in perfect time, and the weird melody of the native
boating-song seemed to bind boat, tide, swaying bodies and plying oars
into one inseparable harmony of sound and motion.
If the souls of these children of Nature had been as responsive to
sights of beauty and loveliness as they were to rhythmical motion and
sound, they would have thrilled with admiration and delight at the
panorama brought to view by a sudden turn in the river. Great mangrove
trees, leaning over to whisper to their neighbors on the other shore,
intertwined their huge branches in a lofty archway over the stream.
Thickets of shrubbery filled all the intervening spaces, and tumbled
over the river bank. Tropical vines, wild, entangled, luxuriant,
trailed over all and hung in graceful festoons of green from the
branches of the trees. Banked along the water's edge were masses of
calla-like lilies, interspersed with ferns. Out of the mass of verdure
on the river bank, peeped the bright crimson leaves that, crowning the
ends of the branches, served as flowers on a shrub whose other foliage
was of the deepest green. Near by another shrub displayed a whorl of
leaves like unto the foliage in shape and form, but creamy white,
arranged around the tiniest suggestion of a flower. Birds of bright
plumage flitted here and there among the trees, monkeys chattered and
scolded in the leafy depths, and snakes suspended their sinuous bodies
from tall canes, or were coiled upon beds of moss. Alligators lay
basking lazily in the evening sun.
Looking down the river from the bend, the stream seemed to be one
continuous avenue of green, with occasional touches of color. Save
for the sinister suggestion from the presence of the snakes and the
alligators, the spot might have been a bit of fairy-land so quiet
and so isolated that it seemed no human being had ever invaded its
sanctity. It was a place to cause the cultured heart to go out in
reverence to meet the spirit of the Infinite.
But our scantily clad boatmen had no eye for all this beauty, no
soul to vibrate in unison with the sacred scene. On the other hand,
their hearts were filled with dread and superstitious fears. To their
beclouded minds the place seemed haunted by unseen spirits of evil. An
alligator slipped with a little splash into the water and disappeared
from sight. The sun now sinking in the west, cast ominous shadows amid
the thickening foliage. The hearts of the boatmen were filled with a
nameless dread, their song died entirely away, and, dropping a piece
of silver into the water to propitiate the spirit of the river, they
raised their oars lest the sound of rowing should disturb the genius of
the place, and floated with the tide in almost breathless silence until
the boat reached the broader waters beyond. Then breathing more freely,
they began to row again, gently at first, but with gradually increased
speed until the oars were in full swing to the echo of the boating-song.
The first streaks of day found them at the bar-mouth, but a strong gale
from the sea made it impossible to proceed, and they were compelled to
anchor for an indefinite period. Tired out with the night's rowing, the
men doubled up in positions of varying discomfort, and slept soundly
for many hours. Aroused at last, they kindled a fire in the box of
gravel in the bow of the boat, cooked a bountiful supply of rice and
fish, and, gathering around the great rice-pot, they proceeded to stow
away the food in such quantities as only a black man's stomach can
contain.
All through the remainder of the day the gale continued with but slight
abatement. It was plain that the night also must be spent at anchor
before the voyage could be resumed. The evening meal was a repetition
of that of the morning, quantity not excepted, and after it was over
they entertained themselves in their own peculiar way. Full stomachs
brought on an amiable frame of mind, and the gathering shades of
evening developed a feeling of sociability and loosened the tongues
of the men. The hour was auspicious for story-telling. The physical
man was at ease, there was time and to spare, and the gathering night
drove the mind in upon itself. Under such circumstances stories were
inevitable, and needed only some suggestion to set them going. Dogbah's
capacity for rice, shown a little before at their evening meal, was the
occasion of a rather coarse jest, at which all the men, including the
victim, laughed heartily.
That reminded Sobah of the same propensity in Mr. Spider, the
impersonation of most of the black man's virtues, and many of his
vices. With a merry twinkle in his eye, and a suggestive shrug of his
shoulders, Sobah shifted to a more commanding position, preparatory to
beginning his story.
The men, accustomed to receive half their communications through signs
more or less occult, understood at once what was coming, and put
themselves into listening attitudes. The story was full of life and
movement, and was entered into with much spirit by both narrator and
listeners.
SPIDER DISCOVERS THE WAX GIRL.
"Spider bin get fa'm wey (where) be bin lib wid heen wef en heen pickin
(pickaninnies). Dis yeah fa'm bin big, oh! en de ress plenty, but wey
(since) Spider nebber satisfy fo' yeat, he greedy (begrudged) heen wef
en heen pickin all. He make one plan fo' heself fo' make dem lef he one
(alone) nah fa'm.[18]
[18] To better insure their safety against invading tribes, the people
live in villages, often mud-walled, and go at day-break to their farms,
where a hut, or a thatched roof supported by poles, serves as temporary
abode and shelter. In order to indulge undisturbed his inordinate
appetite, Spider plans to be left alone at night upon his farm, when
the other members of the household return to the village.
"He tell he wef, say: 'Dah tem w'en I go die, yo' mus' bury me close me
fa'm-ho'se.'
[Illustration: Mr. Spider pretends to die.]
"Aftah he done tell heen wef dat, he no' tay agin,[19] Spider he bin
sick, he head duh hurt um fo' true, true. He no able fo' yeat anyt'ing
agin. He say dah sick 'trong 'pon um. Jus' t'ree no mo (merely), well,
Spider he die. He wef en heen pickin' dey cry fo' um, en dem people
all. Dey bury um close de fa'm-ho'se lek how he bin say. Well, net
tem he wef take all he pickin, he go nah town, but sun tem dey wuk
nah fa'm. W'en dey wan' fo' go back nah town, dey bin lef clean ress
plenty, den bin lef fis' en palm-ile, en peppy, en all t'ing fo' cook.
[19] "He no 'tay agin," _i.e._, It did not stay, was a short time.
"W'en dey done go, Spider get up soffle f'om he grabe, he go inside
fa'm-ho'se, he go take pot, he was' um, he put um nah fiah, he cook
plenty ress; he go look, he take fis', he take 'nuff fo' hese'f. Well,
he kin yeat dat all net sotay fus' fowl crow. Jus' w'en fowl crow,
Spider go back nah he grabe. He go lay down deh soffle. Dem people dey
come now. W'en dey wan' cook dey go look den ress, dey meet only leelee
bit. Dem no know who take um. Well, Spider do dis trick ebery net fo'
one week. W'en den people go home, Spider bin come out f'om he grabe.
Dem people heah dey no know how fo' do. Well, one pusson tell um say:
"'Make yo' mus' go to de country-fashion man. W'en he look de groun' he
tell yo' wey t'ing kin do dat.[20]
[20] The country-fashion man is a sort of African seer, who seats
himself upon the ground, spreads a white cloth in front of him, throws
upon it small stones and bits of various things, and in some way from
these makes his predictions, fumbling in an apparently aimless way,
and muttering to himself, or to the spirits of darkness with which he
claims to be in communion. This is about as much as the uninitiated and
curious can learn in regard to "Looking the ground."
"Den go to dat country-fashion man. Wen he look de groun' he tell dem,
say, ef den wan' fo' ketch dah pusson wey (who) do dah trick, dem fo'
get big wax,[21] make um lek young girl, en dis girl heah dey mus' put
nah one co'ner inside de ho'se. So dey duh do all. Well, Spider no
know anyt'ing happen. Wen de people done go, he come out soffle, lek
wey he do de odder tem. He get de big, big pot, he was' um, put um nah
fiah. He go take ress, he go cook de ress; den he take de pot, he pin
(placed) um down 'pon de groun' close de fiah. He take odder leelee
pot, he go look ef den get fis'; he fine leelee bit. He cook de fis'
good fashion, make soup wid um. He pin de soup down close de ress. He
go take de plate now, he was' um, but he no get 'tick-'poon[22] fo'
dish up. He take 'tick wid fiah 'pon um fo' go look 'poon. Well, w'en
he take de fiah-'tick, he see dis wax 'tan' up one side. He say: 'Eh!
eh! Yo' bin heah so all de tem, en make me trouble fo' cook ress all,
sotay I done cook de soup? Yo' no come se'f fo' he'p me?'
[21] The wax referred to exudes from a tree called by the natives
"chockooh." It is very tenacious.
[22] "'Tick-'poon" _i.e._ a stick used as a substitute for a spoon.
[Illustration: "De Country-fashion Man look de groun'."
[_See p. 103._]
]
"De t'ing no talk.
[Illustration: The Wax Girl.]
"'Well, now I done finish, go make yo' dish up de ress, make we yeat.'
"But w'en de t'ing no answer, Spider say:
"'How yo' kin do? I duh talk, yo' no hearee wey t'ing I duh say? I
_say_, yo' mus' go pull dah ress, make we yeat.'
"W'en de t'ing no duh talk, Spider hole um wid he han'. 'Jus he hole
um, now he han' fash'n (stuck fast), he say:
"'Because I no hole yo' wid all two han', dat make yo' duh hole me
tight?'
"W'en he hole um wid he odder han', he han' fash'n agin en he say:
"'Eh! eh! Lef me now! Ef yo' no wan' pull (bring) dah ress tell me,
make me go pull um fo' mese'f. Yo' t'ink say nar (it is) play I duh
play? Fo' dat yo' kin do so? He look lek say yo' wan' make me kick yo'.'
"He kick um; he foot fash'n, he say:
"'Yo' make so I go kick yo' wid dis me odder foot jus' now.'
"W'en he take de odder foot, kick um, dat fash'n agin. He say:
"'Eh! eh! Ef yo' no lef me I go box yo' wid me head.'
"Den he butt um, en he head fash'n 'pon de wax.
"'Ef yo' no lef me, I go conk (strike) yo' jus' now wid me chest.'
"He conk um, he chest fash'n. W'en Spider he fine how he fash'n all, he
begin fo' talk soffle, he beg, he _beg_, he say:
"'Lef me now, do yah. Soon do' go clean.'
"W'en he beg, de t'ing no duh talk: jus' 'tan' up deh. Spider fet, he
fet, he _fet_ t-a-y (till) do' go clean; he no come out. De mo' he duh
fet de mo' he duh fash'n. He wef come out town, he come meet Spider, he
say:
"'Ah! Fren', nar _so_ yo' bin do all de tem? Aintee yo' say yo' duh die
fo' make yo' take all de ress? Well, mese'f I no go lef yo' come out
f'om dah place. Yo' fo' 'tan' up deh (there).'
"Spider 'tan' up dey tay (till) all de people to de town come meet um;
dem beat um _fine_."
"Well, fus' tem Spider bin roun' lek pusson, but he fash'n so 'pon
dah wax w'en den people all duh beat um, dat make he flat tay (till)
to-day. Dis now de punishment he duh get. Story done."
The narrative of Mr. Spider's successive disasters with the Wax Girl
moved forward with accelerated energy. Now and then came a brief pause
to allow the story-teller to reinforce voice and tone with a fitting
gesture, or to give vent to that peculiar, deep-throated chuckle which
was his only outward evidence of inward delight. The eyes of the
listeners danced and sparkled. They mimicked Spider's successive blows
as the speaker illustrated them, and swayed to and fro, or shook with
convulsions that threatened every minute to become uncontrollable.
The last statements were uttered hurriedly, as if to give the pent up
storm of laughter a chance to escape before it should work serious
consequences. With the words "Story done," the men gave way to
unrestrained and unrestrainable hilarity.
"He conk um, he conk um, he conk um," repeated Oleemah, in a voice
choked with mirth, trying by the repetition to experience again all the
delicious humor of the situation.
"He han' fash'n, he foot fash'n, he head fash'n, he chest fash'n,"
remarked Gondomah, while his whole frame shook with merriment, and the
remark started a new fit of laughter.
Long after the noisy outburst had ceased, the comments continued
concerning Mr. Spider's propensity for trickery, and his notorious
capacity for "yeat."
It was not long before the tales were going again regarding some of Mr.
Spider's numberless exploits. This time Oleemah was the story-teller.
He had been sitting unusually silent for some time, but now, lifting
his head and sniffing the air significantly, he remarked:
"One tem Cappen Spider, he en Lizzad make boat of Chameleon."
Here he paused, as if there were nothing more to say, but the men,
scenting a story, urged him to go on. After a decent show of
reluctance, he proceeded to tell how
MR. CHAMELEON IS TRANSFORMED INTO A BOAT.
"One tem Spider, Lizzad en Chameleon, dem t'ree beef bin meet up 'pon
de road. Dey wan' go nah Freetown, but none no get boat fo' kare dem.
So now dey go talk to dense'f who go be de boat. Well, dey come fine
say, Chameleon, he go be de boat, because he favor boat. He han' nar de
row-lock, heen tail wey fo' place de rudder, heen head nar de bow, de
inside part fo' put de load. Chameleon 'gree. W'en dey ready fo' start,
Chameleon say: 'Make I turn over; w'en I lay down flat, make yo' sit
down 'pon me.'
"Spider say: 'All ret.'
"W'en he en Lizzad done klim 'pon dis boat-Chameleon, Chameleon say:
'Make Lizzad take dem hoe (oars).'"
Here Dogbah, who was rather slow of comprehension, interrupted with a
question as to how Lizard was to use oars without row-locks.
Oleemah cast a disapproving glance at the questioner, then
good-naturedly went on to explain what seemed to him self-evident.
Holding up two fingers and a thumb as nearly in the shape of
Chameleon's hand as possible, he said:
"Aintee yo' know Chameleon get two fingah en one t'umb so?" Lizzad put
de hoe between um; he begin fo' pull, en dey begin fo' go. Spider nar
de cappen; Lizzad dey take fo' boatman, because he kin pull wid he four
foot.
"W'en dey go dey meet one place wey de stone plenty; Cappen Spider wey
duh steer, he make de boat go agin de stone. So he duh do all tem, he
jus' duh jam Chameleon 'pon dem stone. Chameleon done tire, he say: 'We
no reach yet?'
"Spider say: 'We no half, yet.'
"Now he duh steer close one big, big rock, en de same tem Lizzad duh
pull _hard_. Chameleon he back broosh 'pon stone, en he say: 'Wee-ee!
Fren', I no lek dah trick wey yo' do me to-day.'
"Spider make lek he sorry, he say: 'Fren', hush yah!'[23]
[23] "Hush yah," or "as-yah," is the strongest expression of sympathy
in the Sierra Leone dialect.
"So Chameleon lay down agin. Lizzad pull, he pull, he pull, he pull, he
pull so-t-a-y (till) Chameleon ax um, he say: 'Wey t'ing do de place
far so?'[24]
[24] "Wey t'ing do de place far so?" _i.e._, Why is the place so far?
[Illustration: Mr. Chameleon transformed into a boat.
[_See p. 111._]
]
"Spider say: 'He no far agin; we go reach jus' now.'
"W'en dey go long tem, dey begin fo' see de town. Chameleon ax um agin,
he say: 'Fren', we no reach yet?'
"Spider say: 'Look de town yandah.'
"Chameleon say: 'I no ax yo' fo' dat; I say, Ef we done reach dey?'
"Spider say: 'No, look de town yandah agin.'
"Chameleon say: 'Fren, I no lek dah trick. Tell me one tem ef we done
reach dey.'
"Spider tell de same word agin, en Chameleon vex, he say 'I _mus'_ come
out jus' now under yo', make all man swim fo' hese'f.'
"Spider beg, he beg sotay (till) Chameleon say: 'All ret.'
"Den dey go agin, go reach de place, en Chameleon say: 'We done reach?'
"Spider say: 'Yes.'
"Chameleon ax: 'Ef make I turn over?'
"Spider say: 'No, come make yo' go to de sho' mo' leelee bit.' W'en
dey reach to de sho,' Spider say: 'Turn over now, we done ketch
Freetown.'
"Dis tem Chameleon get one foot en one han', en leelee nose, because
Spider 'deed bin jam um 'pon dem stone. Dat make Chameleon walker slow
tay to-day."[25]
[25] To an African mind, everything in the least unusual needs to be
accounted for. Consequently some solution, however fanciful, must be
offered for the slow locomotion of such a pompous appearing character
in the native stories as the Chameleon. Raising one foot after the
other slowly, very slowly, he puts it down with a meditative precision
that leads the people to ascribe to him these words: "I duh walker,
mash (take) one step, den odder step. Ef I walker hard I go sink de
groun', de groun' go bus', he too sof', en bimeby de wuld go broke. Dat
make I duh walker soffle, so I no fa' down."
Oleemah leaned back against the side of the boat, and gave himself up
to a train of memories that had been awakened by the story just ended.
The men, less meditative, renewed their enjoyment by various comments
on Spider and his guileful ways.
"Aintee now dat rascal trick wey Spider do heen boat Chameleon?" asked
Dogbah, and his broad grin showed that Spider's rascality was not
looked upon with any great disfavor. "Dat rascal trick" recalled the
time when Spider was worsted in his encounter with the Wax Girl, and
again the men shook with merry laughter.
Sobah, feeling a little hurt by some of the rude jests at Spider's
expense, had been turning over the leaves of his memory in search of
some exploit of that little hero, more than usually clever, in order
to offset the somewhat inglorious part he had played in the two other
tales.
"Well, Spider he 'trong man," he finally retorted to the slighting
comment of Dogbah.
Challenged for proof of his assertion, Sobah began to relate Mr.
Spider's marvellous achievement in a trial of strength with Elephant
and Hippopotamus.
SPIDER, ELEPHAN' EN PAWPAWTÁMUS.
"Hangry tem (famine) done ketch dis Africa.[26] All dem beef no get no
yeat, de country dry too much. Well, Spider he en Elephan' meet up one
day. Spider tell Elephan', 'How do.' Elephan' answer um, 'Tankee,' en
he say:
"'Fren', how yo' do fo'get yeat? Mese'f no get notting, de country dry
too much.'
[26] Native lack of management, and shiftlessness in providing for
the future by planting a sufficient amount of rice, cause, for the
great mass of the people, an annual scarcity of food just preceding
the season of ingathering. Add to this the frequent wars, and the
occasional devastations by locusts, and the explanation is afforded for
the famines so frequently mentioned in the oral literature concerning
the animals, the pathetic sharers in the suffering of their human
friends.
"Spider hese'f done po'; hangry duh ketch um _bad_, but wey (since) he
cunnie, he answer Elephan', he say:
"'Nar true de place dry, but I t'ink I go soon be able fo' fine yeat
fo' mese'f en me famble.'
"Den de Elephan' say: 'Ef yo' fine de place, make yo' come tell me.'
"Spider say: 'All ret, I 'gree. I kin sorry w'en I look yo' skin, how
he leelee so. He no big lek fus' tem; bimeby he no go big pass me yown.
Yo' no look lek yo' get 'trenk too much; I t'ink say I able fo' draw
yo' f'om de sho' to de wattah.'
"Elephan' no know say Spider duh pull cunnie, en hese'f de one Spider
wan' fo' kill. He answer: 'All ret,' he say: 'Mese'f kin draw yo' f'om
dah wattah to dah lan'.'
"Spider say: 'All ret,' he say he go fine big rope.[27] He go, he duh
walker inside bush tay he meet rope big lek pusson head, he duh kare
um go to de wattah. He 'tan' up close de sho' tay (till) he meet up
wid Pawpawtámus, he tell um, say: 'I kin draw yo' f'om de wattah to de
lan'.'
[27] The native rope is a vine that grows in the jungle, and which is
sufficiently strong to serve the purposes of a rope. Fastened to a
large stone it even holds a boat at anchor.
"Pawpawtámus say: 'Wey t'ing dat yo' duh talk? Yo' leelee too much, I
jus' make me fingah _so_, I kin draw yo'.'
[Illustration: Mr. Spider challenges Pawpawtámus.]
"Spider say: 'All ret, which tem we go try de fet?'
"Pawpawtámus answer um, say: 'To-morrow mawnin' make we come try.'
"Spider 'gree, he say: 'Dah tem I ready, I go gie yo' de rope.'
"Den he lef, he go tell Elephan' de same word: 'Wen I ready I go gie
yo' de rope.'
"De two beef no know say dat dey two go draw each odder. So Spider
bring de rope, he go tie de one end 'pon Elephan', de odder 'pon
Pawpawtámus. He tell all two, he say:
"'Yo' mus' ready; I go draw yo' now.'
"So Spider hese'f go middle de rope, he begin fo' draw de rope to one
side en de odder side fo' gie signal. Den he turn behine one big 'tick;
he 'tan' up deh, fo' see wey t'ing go be. Dem two big beef begin fo'
pull. Dey draw each odder sotay (until) dey no able; dey done tire fo'
draw. De two equal, de one no pass he cumpin (companion) fo' 'trong.
Dey draw sotay (until) dey all two die."
No mere words can convey an adequate impression of the realism
and power that Sobah's portrayal gave to this mighty struggle. In
unconscious response to the growing intensity of the theme he had risen
to his feet, and now became so completely absorbed in the struggle he
was depicting, that tone, look, and straining muscle seemed to reflect
every phase of the terrible combat, until with the tiring out of the
contestants, he too sank back upon his seat as if exhausted.
It was an effective bit of unstudied eloquence. The long pause that
followed was necessary to allow the tension of feeling to sink again to
the level of the remainder of the story. Then the narrator went on in a
more subdued vein.
"Spider done satisfy. He look de beef, he say: 'Yo' pass me fo' 'trong,
but aintee I pass yo' fo' sense?'
"Well, he go, he take dem two, he drag dem nah sho'."
This was a rather surprising feat even for Mr. Spider, and Sobah
glanced out of the corner of his eye to see how it was being received.
The look on several faces seemed to indicate that credulity was being
tested too far. The momentary pause gave Oleemah a chance to protest:
"Ah! Daddy, Yo' t'ink say Spider, wey leelee so, able fo' drag dem big,
big beef?"
"Aintee yo' know dat Spider able fo' tote yeat?" Sobah replied. "Ef
yeat big lek Elephan' he go tote um. I no care ef anyt'ing fo' yeat how
he big, he kin hase (raise) um go, but he lazy fo' wuk. Ef yo' gie um
leelee wuk fo' do, he no able." Then he resumed his narrative.
"Spider shabe (divided) de beef all; he call plenty people fo' tote um,
kare um go nah he ho'se. He pay um only leelee bit 'pon dah Elephan'.
Spider en he famble lib 'pon de two beef sotay de hangry tem done.
"Well, dah tern fis' no bin nah de whole wuld. W'en Spider shabe de
beef, all de piece he no wan', he t'row 'way nah de wattah; den turn
fis'. Nar so Spider make fis' all come nah de wattah."
This novel account of the "living creatures that the waters brought
forth abundantly," did not seem incredible to that simple-minded crew.
The water about their boat was alive with fish at the very moment, and
if Spider did not make them, who did?
Hobahky, in whose nostrils the odor of fish-stew was a sweet savor, put
his feelings into: "Aintee Spider good man fo' make dem fis' all come
fo' we?"
Oleemah was inclined to give most credit to Spider for the clever ruse
by which he secured food for himself and family during the famine.
Meanwhile the wind had abated, and was shifting to a more favorable
quarter. The clouds that had obscured the moon in the earlier evening,
had cleared away, and now the moon was shining full and bright. Sobah's
experienced eye had been taking in the situation, and after a full
survey he decided that, after all, the voyage might safely be resumed.
Accordingly they set up their little mast, spread the sail, and were
soon scudding away in the direction of Freetown, leaving thoughts of
Spider to less strenuous hours.