THE BURNING OF THE FARM
The day "fo' bu'n fa'm" had come. The thick underbrush of three or
four years' growth had been laboriously chopped down by men and boys
some weeks before and left in a tangled mass all over the little farm
to become tinder for the flames under the burning sun of the long dry
season now drawing to a close. Sobah had already postponed burning
for several days longer than was necessary, for he had inherited the
procrastinating tendency of his race, whose unwritten motto seems to
be: "Do nothing to-morrow that can be put off until the day after
to-morrow." This morning the sky was clear, and there was no excuse for
further delay. Sobah, Mamenah and Konah started for the little piece of
ground which had been allotted to them by the chief that year, going by
the footpath which led from the village to the farm over the hill, a
mile away. They had gone scarcely a third of the distance when Konah,
who was running carelessly in advance, stumbled over an obstruction
that happened to be lying in the road. This was a bad sign, and nothing
would avert the evil consequences but a return to the village, and a
roundabout journey by another road. So they plodded back, and started
once more by the longer way. Here a new difficulty presented itself.
Just beyond the brook the path led beneath a tree under which a man had
been killed by lightning some months before, and superstition invested
the spot with special terrors. Sobah, however, knew the counter-charm,
and plucking a leaf from a near-by shrub, cast it upon the place and
passed on with an easy mind. Mammy Mamenah and Konah followed with the
same precaution. The farm was reached without any other unfavorable
signs. Some of Sobah's neighbors, earlier arrived, were engaged in
burning an adjoining farm, and the air was heavy with the smoke and
flying cinders. Fagots from the fire furnished torches by which Sobah's
five-acre tract of dry brush was soon transformed into a lake of fire.
The flames writhed and tossed angrily, like some great monster rushing
to devour its prey. Konah was sure some devil was the animating power,
and the uncanny movements of the fiery arms filled even the older ones
with a feeling of awe and dread. It did not take the flames long to do
their work in that dry fuel, and hardly had they died away when flocks
of birds began to circle around the place, waiting for the fire to
cool sufficiently for them to descend and enjoy their feast of roasted
snails. Satisfied with their morning's work, Sobah, Mamenah, Konah, and
the neighbors who had joined them in completing their labor, went to
their farm-house to rest during the heat of the day, then to return to
the village in the cool of the evening.
An hour's quiet repose made Konah's active nature eager for
entertaining occupation. She climbed upon a large stone that lay at
the shady side of the farm-house, and sat with one foot drawn up under
her and the other dangling beside the stone, looking meditatively out
over the blackness and smoke that told where the fire fiend had roared
and revelled with resistless fury a little while before. The feeling
still had possession of her that there was something more than natural
in the way the fire had raged, and to her mind the supernatural was to
be accounted for by multitudinous devil and witch influences. With her
mind full of such thoughts, she was delighted to hear one of the men
putting to Sobah the very questions that were crowding her own mind.
"Oh, debble any place," he explained in reply. "He deh nah cotton-tree,
he deh nah bush, he deh nah wattah, he deh nah groun'. He able fo' turn
anyt'ing; he turn stone, he turn tree, he turn pigeon, he turn pusson.
Pusson kin buil' debble-ho'se, put med'cin' inside wey dribe debble way
f'om fa'm, en wey make he get good heart fo' um. Ef he get good heart,
he no go do um bad. Notting no able fo' do um bad."
This to Konah's mind, bound in the universal network of superstition,
was undisputed fact. Had she not in each transit to and from the farm,
passed a tiny devil-house, placed on the outskirts of her home village?
This presented itself now to her mind's eye: Four sticks driven into
the ground, supporting a frame three feet square, roofed with bamboo,
and enclosed on three sides. The fourth, left open, revealing a devil
in the form of a small stone, a little food near by, the skull of some
small animal, a bottle, a little horn, and some mysterious medicine
tied in a very dirty rag.
The child had never questioned very deeply the significance of each
article, taking the whole by faith as one accepts the religion of
his ancestors, but her developing mind now longed to interrogate her
father, who, she was sure, must be able to explain everything. This,
however, she dared not do, for it was not a child's place to presume;
neither did she care to incur a testy command to be silent, or to
run away and do some work. The reproof she would not so much have
minded, being used to it; but idleness was even sweeter than appeased
curiosity. So she absent-mindedly picked little pieces from the stone
on which she was sitting, and wondered, until presently Sobah, feeling
that he had explained matters sufficiently for any reasonable purpose,
had given himself over to the train of thoughts which his talk had set
in motion, and was ready to tell a story in which Spider and "debble"
were concerned. There was no announcement of the fact, yet by some
occult means everyone knew that the proper time had arrived, and quite
spontaneously turned to listen. A glance at the faces of his audience
was all the encouragement the most exacting story-teller could require,
and Sobah was really fond of being the mouthpiece for the yarns that
Spider spun. The tale embodied some of the unseen powers that they had
been discussing a few minutes before.
SPIDER TRIES TO "BRUSH" THE DEVIL'S FARM.
"One tem Spider he go to 'trange lan'. Well, w'en he reach deh, he go
to de king. De king nar he lan'lord. W'en tem reach fo' brush fa'm, he
ax de king fo' one piece lan' wey de people nebber brush. Dey say one
big debble get de lan', en no man no venture fo' go deh. Spider ax de
king fo' dis same spot, he say he wan' fo' brush deh. De king he tell
um, he say:
"'Nobody wey brush deh kin bring de ress (rice) nah town, he no go even
yeat de ress.'
"Spider say: 'Me go yeat um; I go brush deh, en I go yeat de ress.'
"De king say: 'Well, all ret;' he say. 'Try yo' bes'.'
"Spider he bring cutlass,[35] he go early in de mawnin' fo' go commence
brush befo' de sun hot. W'en he go he jus' duh chop one 'tick, den he
hearee de debble ax:
"'Who chop dah 'tick?'
[35] The cutlass is the general purpose tool used for cutting away
underbrush, for harvesting, and even for the felling of forest trees.
[Illustration: "De pot begin fo' run f'om Spider."
[_See p. 157._]
]
"Spider say hese'f duh chop dah 'tick.
"Den de debble say: 'By to-morrow yo' go meet I done brush all dis bush
heah.' He tell Spider make he no brush, because he go brush fo' um.
"Spider go fo' drink wattah nah de fa'm-ho'se. Befo' he come back he
meet de bush already brush. He run go nah town, he tell de king, he say:
"'I done finis' brush de fa'm wey yo' gie me.'
"De king answer, he say: 'All ret.'
"Befo' one week tem, de place all done dry fo' burn. Nex' day w'en de
sun all done hot, Spider he go, he set de fiah, he holler, he say:
'Hey! hey! hey!' He do dat fo' make de debble go hear um, so de debble
go ax lek how he duh do befo'. Den de debble ax, he ax: 'Who dat duh
bu'n fa'm?'
"Spider answer um lek he bin do befo'.
"Den de debble say: 'Go sit down, I go bu'n um jus' now fo' yo'.'
"Soon w'en Spider go look, he see de fa'm done bu'n all, he swep' clean.
"Spider go tell de king, he say: 'I done bu'n me fa'm.'
"De king say: 'All ret.'
"He tell de king, he say: 'Buy ress fo' me.'
"De king gie um few hamper ress. Spider make hoe; long, long one. Nah
mawnin' tem he get up, he take de ress, he go nah fa'm early, befo' do'
clean. W'en he reach to he fa'm, he put down he bly (basket), he take
he han', he dip de ress wid um, he hebe (scatter) um, schar-r-r!
"Now de debble ax um, he say: 'Who hebe de ress?' He say: 'I go hebe de
ress, make de pusson no humbug,[36] I go hebe de ress jus' now.'
[36] "Humbug" in the Sierra Leone dialect always means "trouble", and
contains no suggestion of trickery. The thought here is: Let the person
give himself no trouble.
"But de Spider he no see de debble, he jus' duh see de wuk done, en
jus' duh hear de voice, but he no duh see nobody. W'en he 'tay leelee
bit, Spider he see ress all 'pon de groun'. Spider take de hoe, he
scrape de groun', har-r-r!
"W'en de debble he hear, he say: 'Who duh dig de groun' fo' cover de
ress?'
"He say: 'Go home;' he say: 'To-morrow mawnin' yo' go meet I finis' de
place.'
"Spider go, he tell de king, he say 'I finis' plant me ress.'
"De king say: 'All ret.'
"Spider go back agin to de fa'm, he meet de ress already done grow,
done high, he meet de grass begin fo' grow middle de ress. He go fo'
root de grass f'om dah ress; he root one de grass; he root um _hard_,
so de debble kin hear. De debble he ax: 'Who root de grass?' He say:
'Befo' evenin' tem de pusson go meet I root all de grass.'
"Spider go to de fa'm-ho'se wey he sit down. Evenin' tem he come out to
de fa'm, he walk all 'bout, he see de fa'm clean. De ress he _fine_!
"Bimeby de tem reach fo' de ress fo' begin bear, de ress done bear all;
dem bird dey duh come fo' yeat de ress. Spider w'en he meet de bird, he
holler, 'Shoo! shoo!' Dem bird dey all get up, dey fly.
"Den de debble ax um, he say: 'Who duh dribe dem bird?' He say: 'De
pusson no need fo' dribe de bird, I go dribe dem f'om de ress.'
"De debble he dribe dem bird ebery day f'om de ress, tay de ress all
done ripe fo' cut. De fus' day Spider go cut some. Yo' know de fus' day
pusson kin cut leelee fo' yeat, dat all. [37]W'en he go cut de ress,
he go parch um, dry um to de pot; he beat um. He done beat de ress all,
he begin fo' cook, he put big ress nah fiah fo' cook um, he cook all.
Aftah he put de pot nah fiah, en de wattah in de pot done w'am nuff, he
put de ress inside de pot. Jus' de ress done, he take de pot, pin um
down close de fiah. Spider he go huntin', he kill bush beef, he cook
um. Aftah de soup finis', he pull um f'om de fiah, he go was' dem dish
fo' come take up. Spider come fo' touch de pot wey get de ress. De
pot begin fo' run f'om Spider. Spider run aftah de pot, he duh _run_,
duh _run_, duh _run_, duh _run_! Spider done tire, he stop fo' run,
he 'tan' up; de pot se'f 'tan' up. W'en Spider 'tan' up, de pot stop
fo' run. W'en he see dat de pot stop fo' run, well, him begin fo' run,
fo' go take de pot quick. W'en Spider reach close de pot, de pot begin
'gain fo' run. Spider en de pot duh run sotay (till) Spider he tire;
he lef en go back nah fa'm-ho'se, he go sit down. He stay leelee bit,
he see dah empty pot come back inside de fa'm-ho'se en 'tan' up. Spider
no know how fo' do; he sorry, he wan' fo' cry. He say: 'But nebber
min', I tink odder sense wey I go do bimeby, evenin' tem.'
[37] The following account of how Mr. Spider cooks his rice before he
goes to capture the animal from which he makes the stew for the rice,
is an exaggerated illustration of the African tendency to allow each
hour to provide for its need. The custom, however, is to cook the rice,
set it aside to steam under a grass-woven cover, until the stew is
made, and finally to wash the calabashes, _i. e._ gourds which serve as
bowls for food and water. Usually eating from the pot dispenses with
the last part of the ceremony.
"He stay hungry all day. Evenin' tem he cook de ress; he no even wait
fo' de ress fo' finis' cook, he make big cottah,[38] he put um 'pon he
head; he take de pot, he hase um up, put um 'pon he head; he tie de pot
all wid rag 'roun' he head, fash'n um so he no able fo' loose. He start
wid run fo' go nah town. De ress duh boil de same tem dat he duh run.
Jus' he wan' fo' reach de town, de pot slip 'way f'om um. He begin fo'
run aftah de pot, en de pot duh run tay Spider give up, he done tire.
W'en he stay leelee bit, he see de empty pot agin. Spider, because he
no get ress, he 'bliged fo' go pick de leelee young cassada; he cook,
he yeat um.
[38] A circular pad worn upon the head when "toting" a hammock or other
burden.
"De nex' day, de same; he get de same trouble tay he gie up de fa'm
altogedder, en go home.
"De king ax um, he say: 'Spider, how he 'tan'? Dat word wey I bin tell
yo', dat nar (is it) story?'
"He answer um, he say: 'No, nar true word dat yo' bin talk, but nebber
min'.'
"De king ax um, he say: 'Dah ress, yo' bin cut all?'
"He say: 'Yes, I done cut all de ress, he deh 'pon top de fa'm-ho'se
wey I pile um.'
"De king he say: 'Yo' see 'trong head (obstinacy) no good, yo' labor
fo' notting.'
"Spider he bin get 'trong head, dat make he bin see all dis trouble."
Konah followed the story through with intense interest, too absorbed
to ask questions, even if she had dared. A rice pot that could perform
such feats, was an entrancing object to her imagination. So delighted
was she with the magical powers that were manifest in the story, that
she forgot to hear the moral of the tale regarding obstinacy and
self-will. Sobah, however, was so impressed with the application of the
story, that he plunged into the recital of another tale teaching the
same moral, and with a much more tragic outcome.
THE DEVIL TURNS PIGEON
"One big debble ho'se bin close by one town. Dem debble wey bin deh,
dem bad. Dey say: 'Make nobody no fo' set trap inside de bush.' So one
'tranger come to de town. All man tell um say: 'No fo' set trap inside
dah bush (forest),' but he deny; he make 'tronger head, he say he mus'
set trap deh. So he go make trap. W'en he set dis trap inside de bush,
soon one pigeon go inside de trap. Dis bird nar debble wey bin turn
bird en go inside de trap. De bird begin cry, he say: 'Daddy, come
loose me.'
"So de 'tranger go loose de pigeon, he put um one side. De pigeon cry
agin, he say: 'Daddy, kare me go nah ho'se. (De pigeon duh say so).'
"So de man take de pigeon, he kare um go nah ho'se.
"De pigeon cry: 'Daddy, kill me one tem.'
"W'en de man done kill um, he say: 'Daddy, pull de fedder 'pon me.'
"W'en de man done pull de fedder, de pigeon say: 'Clean me.'
"W'en he done clean um, de pigeon say: 'Put pot nah fiah.'
[Illustration: The Devil turns Pigeon.
[_See p. 160._]
]
"W'en he done put de pot, de pigeon say: 'Cut, cut me.'
"W'en de man done cut um, he say: 'Put me nah pot, cook me one tem.'
"Den de man cook um.
"Now de pigeon say: 'Daddy, put salt,' en he put salt. He say put
peppy, en he put peppy. So de pigeon say: 'Tase de salt, ef he go do
nah de soup.' Now de pigeon say de soup done. W'en he done cole, de
pigeon say: 'Pull me, make yo' yeat me.' Well, w'en de man yeat um he
lef half. De pigeon say: 'Yeat me all.' He yeat all.
"Evenin' tem de man go nah bush agin. Jus' he reach nah bush, he open
he mout' fo' talk. Jus' he open um de bird fly f'om he mout' go 'way,
en hese'f fa' down, he die. W'en de people look fo' um all inside de
bush, dey no see um, de debble done kare um go.
"So deny no good. Ef pusson tell yo' say: 'No do dis t'ing, yo' no mus'
make 'tronger head."
The dreadful consequences that might be expected to follow upon a
headstrong course, Sobah set off with solemn look and awed tone; then
shaking his head warningly, he concluded with the proverb: "Ef yo'
wan' yeat out de debble he yown bowl, make yo' get 'poon wid long
handle."
The story echoed a feeling of universal childhood, the undefined dread
of some mysterious visitation upon disobedience and kindred sins that
finds expression in the goblin stories of all tongues.
Konah felt it keenly, being impressed as much by the solemn manner of
the recital, as by the matter of the story.
The older ones too, being but grown up children, were filled with much
of the same vague awe, but years had dulled the keenness of their
spiritual sensibilities. After some desultory talk on less serious
matters, the men stretched out on the floor of the hut, and were soon
asleep.