THE NGOMBA, OR PORCUPINE—THE IZOMBA, OR TURTLE—THE IPI, OR ANT-EATER
One day an izomba (turtle) was walking in the forest, when suddenly she
heard a noise, and became suspicious; as the noise came nearer, she drew
her head, her four feet, and tail under her shell, and said, “Now I am
safe.”
It happened that an ipi had made the noise that scared the turtle. The
ipi stopped and looked at the turtle with great curiosity. Then she,
too, heard a noise and became suspicious in her turn, coiled round and
made her scales as tight against each other as she could, and said also,
“Now I am safe.”
The noise had been made by a porcupine whose coat had the longest,
hardest quills that porcupines have. It happened that he came between
the ipi and the izomba. When he saw them, he stood still and looked at
them both with great curiosity.
Suddenly he heard a crash through the jungle. A dead branch of a tall
tree had broken off and had fallen on the ground. He in his turn was so
scared that he rolled himself up and put his quills out, for he thought
njokoos had made the noise, and then he, too, exclaimed, “Now I am
safe.”
The three remained thus for sometime, feeling sure that so they were
safe. At last, hearing no noise, the turtle peeped out slowly, her head
and her four feet and tail issuing from her shell. The ipi, hearing no
noise, unrolled herself, and so did the porcupine. Then the three looked
at each other and wondered at their coats. The ipi said to the izomba,
and to the porcupine, “Do not be afraid of me. I do not bite. I have no
teeth and feed only on ants, so I cannot do you any harm.”
[Illustration: [Ant-eater]]
Next the porcupine said to the turtle and to the ipi: “Don’t be afraid.
I am a rodent. I feed on roots, fruit, and nuts which I find on the
ground. It is true I can bite, but I do not feed on blood and flesh;
besides, my teeth could not go through your coats.”
Then the turtle, looking at the ipi and the porcupine, said: “Do not be
afraid. I am enclosed in a hard shell-like coat—this is to protect me. I
live chiefly on leaves. I can bite terribly, but how could I ever bite
you with the grand coats you have.”
But, as it happened, the three did not understand one another, for each
had a different language which belonged to their species. They kept
talking nevertheless, each expressing his thoughts in his own way.
The ipi, looking at the big scales fastened to the shell of the turtle,
wondered why they could not move like her own, and thought to herself,
“Strange indeed is the coat of the turtle.” She also wondered at the way
the turtle had of hiding herself under her shell, for the turtle’s head,
tail, and legs would now and then suddenly disappear.
The porcupine, in the mean time, was examining the coat of the ipi and
of the turtle. Finally he said to them: “I have the best coat of you
all; when I make my formidable quills stand up, no one dares to handle
or attack me or tread upon my body.”
Then he gave a great porcupine laugh and cried: “Ipi and turtle, monkeys
and men of the wood can toss you about; njokoos can tramp upon you,—for
though your coat protects you it does not sting, pierce, or hurt like
mine. You are harmless.”
After a while all three went on their way to get their living, each
thinking his coat better than the others’. It happened that the turtle
came under a tree where a large nshiego (chimpanzee) was resting. When
he saw the turtle he came down from his tree. When the turtle saw the
nshiego come toward her, she drew her head, tail, and legs under her
shell, for she was terribly afraid. It looked then as if the turtle were
dead.
But the nshiego had seen the turtle moving, and wondered what it was,
and soon the poor, frightened turtle was in his two hands, and he turned
her over, first on one side, then on the other, tossed her around, and,
when he got tired, dropped her, and went away. The poor turtle had never
been handled in that way before, and was so scared that she did not dare
to peep her head out of her shell for a long time afterward, when she
went into hiding under the roots of a big tree.
The nshiego farther on met the porcupine, who when he saw the nshiego
rolled himself up and put out his quills. The nshiego came up to him,
looked at him carefully, and said to himself: “I am afraid of thee,
porcupine, and I will not toss thee as I did the turtle, for those
ugly-looking quills will pierce my hands and hurt me dreadfully. I am
afraid of them.” And he went his way.
Toward evening the same nshiego saw the ipi walking. When the ipi heard
the nshiego, she rolled herself in a coil, and with all her strength
made the coil as tight as she could. Then the nshiego came toward her,
and soon the ipi was in his hands. He played with her, tossed her about,
and, when tired, dropped her and went away.
When the ipi came to her burrow, she told her mate all the things she
had seen that day, of the turtle and the porcupine, and what had
happened to her with the nshiego, and how afraid she had been.
When the porcupine came to his burrow, he told his mate of the strange
creatures he had met, of the ipi and the turtle, and said: “Dear, I met
also a nshiego who stood by me quite a while, but, thanks to my good
coat of quills, he did not dare to handle me, as I saw he did the turtle
and the ipi.”