changed as to his form and skin, possessed all his old tastes. Having
been so many days without tasting blood or uncooked meats, as they
passed through the forest of wild beasts, the longing came on him. They
emerged onto a great prairie, and journeyed across it toward another
forest. Before they had entirely crossed the prairie, the longing for
his prey so overcame him that he said, "Wife, you with your Kabala
and the servants stay here while I go rapidly ahead; and wait for me
until I come again." So he went off, entered the forest, and changed
himself back to Leopard. He hunted for prey, caught a small animal,
and ate it; and another, and ate it. After being satisfied, he washed
his hands and mouth in a brook; and, changing again to human form,
he returned on the prairie to his wife.
She observed him closely, and saw a hard, strange look on his face. She
said, "But, all this while! What have you been doing?" He made an
excuse. They went on.
And the next day, it was the same, he leaving her, and telling her
to wait till he returned; and hunting and eating as a Leopard. All
this that was going on, Ilâmbe was ignorant of. But Horse knew. He
would speak after awhile, but was not ready yet.
So it went on, until they came to Leopard's town. Before they reached
it, Ogula-Njegâ, by the preparations he had first made, had changed
his mother into a human form in which to welcome his wife. Also the few
people of the town, all with human forms, welcomed her. But, they did
not sit much with her. They stayed in their own houses; and Ogula-Njegâ
and his wife stayed in theirs. For a few days, Leopard tried to be
a pleasant Ogula, deceiving his wife. But his taste for blood was
still in his heart. He began to say, "I am going to another town;
I have business there." And off he would go, hunting as a leopard;
when he returned, it would be late in the day. So he did on other days.
After a time, Ilâmbe wished to make a food-plantation, and sent her
men-servants to clear the ground. Ogula-Njegâ would go around in the
forest on the edge of the plantation; and catching one of the men,
there would return that day one servant less.
One by one, all the men-servants were thus missing; and it was not
known what became of them, except that Leopard's people knew. One
night Ogula-Njegâ was out; and, meeting one of the female servants,
she too was reported missing.
Sometimes, when Ogula-Njegâ was away, Ilâmbe, feeling lonesome,
would go and pet Horse. After the loss of this maid-servant, Horse
thought it was time to warn Ilâmbe of what was going on. While she
was petting him, he said, "Eh! Ilâmbe! you do not see the trouble
that is coming to you!" She asked, "What trouble?" He exclaimed,
"What trouble? If your father had not sent me with you, what would
have become of you? Where are all your servants that you brought with
you? You do not know where they go to, but I know. Do you think that
they disappear without a reason? I will tell you where they go. It
is your man who eats them; it is he who wastes them!" She could not
believe it, and argued, "Why should he destroy them?" Horse replied,
"If you doubt it, wait for the day when your last remaining servant
is gone."
Two days after that, at night, another maid-servant
disappeared. Another day passed. On another day, Ogula-Njegâ went
off to hunt beasts, with the intention that, if he failed to get any,
at night he would eat his wife.
When he had gone, Ilâmbe, in her loneliness, went to fondle Horse. He
said to her, "Did I not tell you? The last maid is gone. You
yourself will be the next one. I will give you counsel. When you
have opportunity this night, prepare yourself ready to run away. Get
yourself a large gourd, and fill it with ground-nuts; another with
gourd-seeds; and another with water." He told her to bring these
things to him, and he would know the best time to start.
While they were talking, Leopard's mother was out in the street,
and heard the two voices. She said to herself, "Ilâmbe, wife of my
son, does she talk with Kabala as if it was a person?" But, she said
nothing to Ilâmbe, nor asked her about it.
Night came on; and Ogula-Njegâ returned. He said nothing; but his face
looked hard and bad. Ilâmbe was troubled and somewhat frightened at
his ugly looks. So, at night, on retiring, she began to ask him,
"But why? Has anything displeased you?" He answered, "No; I am
not troubled about anything. Why do you ask questions?" "Because I
see it in your face that your countenance is not pleasant." "No;
there's no matter. Everything is right. Only, about my business,
I think I must start very early." Ogula-Njegâ had begun to think,
"Now she is suspecting me. I think I will not eat her this night,
but will put it off until next night."
That night, Ilâmbe did not sleep. In the morning, Leopard said that
he would go to his business, but would come back soon. When he was
gone away to his hunting work, Ilâmbe felt lonesome, and went to
Horse. He, thinking this a good time to run away, they started at
once, without letting any one in the village know, and taking with
them the three gourds. Horse said that they must go quickly; for,
Leopard, when he discovered them gone, would rapidly pursue. So they
went fast and faster, Horse looking back from time to time, to see
whether Leopard was pursuing.
After they had been gone quite a while, Ogula-Njegâ returned from
his business to his village, went into his house, and did not
see Ilâmbe. He called to his mother, "Where is Ilâmbe?" His mother
answered, "I saw Ilâmbe with her Kabala, talking together; they have
been at it for two days." Ogula-Njegâ began to search; and, seeing
the hoof-prints, he exclaimed, "Mi asaiya (shame for me). Ilâmbe has
run away. I and she shall meet today!"
He instantly turned from his human form back to that of leopard, and
went out, and pursued, and pursued, and pursued. But, it took some time
before he came in sight of the fugitives. As Horse turned to watch,
he saw Leopard, his body stretched low and long in rapid leaps. Horse
said to Ilâmbe, "Did I not tell you? There he is, coming!" Horse
hasted, with foam dropping from his lips. When he saw that Leopard
was gaining on them, he told Ilâmbe to take the gourd of peanuts from
his back, and scatter them along behind on the ground. Leopards like
peanuts; and when Ogula-Njegâ came to these nuts, he stopped to eat
them. While he was eating, Horse gained time to get ahead. As soon
as Leopard had finished the nuts, he started on in pursuit again,
and soon began to overtake. When he approached, Horse told Ilâmbe to
throw out the gourd-seeds. She did so. Leopard delayed to eat these
seeds also. This gave Horse time to again get ahead. Thus they went on.
Leopard, having finished the gourd-seeds, again went leaping in
pursuit; and, for the third time, came near. Horse told Ilâmbe to throw
the gourd of water behind, with force so that it might crash and break
on the ground. As soon as she had done so, the water was turned to a
stream of a deep wide river, between them and Leopard. Then he was
at a loss. So, he shouted, "Ah! Ilâmbe! Mi asaiya! If I only had a
chance to catch you!" So, he had to turn back.
Then Horse said, "We do not know what he may do yet; perhaps he may
go around and across ahead of us. As there is a town which I know
near here, we had better stay there a day or two while he may be
searching for us." He added to her, "Mind! this town where we are
going, no woman is allowed to be there, only men. So, I will change
your face and dress like a man's. Be very careful how you behave
when you take your bath, lest you die." Ilâmbe promised; and Horse
changed her appearance. So, a fine-looking young man was seen riding
into the street of the village. There were exclamations in the street,
"This is a stranger! Hail! stranger; hail! Who showed you the way to
come here?" This young man answered, "Myself; I was out riding; I saw
an open path; and I came in." He entered a house, and was welcomed;
and they told him their times of eating, and of play, etc. But, on
the second day, as this young man went out privately, one of the men
observed, and said to the other, "He acts like a woman!" The others
asked, "Really! you think so?" He asserted, "Yes! I am sure!" So,
that day Ilâmbe was to meet with some trouble; for, to prove her,
the men had said to her, "Tomorrow we all go bathing in the river,
and you shall go with us." She went to ask Horse what she should
do. He rebuked her, "I warned you, and you have not been careful. But,
do not be troubled; I will change you into a man."
That night, Ilâmbe went to Horse; and he changed her. He also told her,
"I warn you again. Tomorrow you go to bathe with the others, and you
may take off your clothes; for, you are now a man. But, it is only
for a short time, because we stay here only a day and a night more,
and then we must go."
The next morning all the town went to play, and after that to
bathe. When they went into the water, the other men were all
expecting to see a woman revealed; but they saw that their visitor
was a man. They admired his wonderfully fine physique. On emerging
from the water, the men said to the one who had informed on Ilâmbe,
"Did you not tell us that this was a woman? See, how great a man he
is!" As soon as they said that, the young man Ilâmbe was vexed with
him, and began to berate him, saying, "Eh! you said I was a woman?" And
she chased him and struck him. Then they all went back to the town.
In the evening, Horse told Ilâmbe, "I tell you what to do tomorrow. In
the morning, you take your gun, and shoot me dead. After you have
shot me, these men will find fault with you, saying 'Ah! you shoot
your horse, and did not care for it?' But, do not say anything in
reply. Cut me in pieces, and burn the pieces in the fire. After
this, carefully gather all the black ashes; and, very early in the
following morning, in the dark before any one is up, go out of the
village gateway, scatter the ashes, and you will see what will happen."
The young man did all this. On scattering the ashes, he instantly
found himself changed again to a woman, and sitting on Horse's back;
and they were running rapidly away.
That same day, in the afternoon, they came to the town of the father
Ra-Mborakinda. On their arrival there, they (but especially Horse)
told their whole story. Ilâmbe was somewhat ashamed of herself; for,
she had brought these troubles on herself by insisting on having a
husband with a perfectly fine skin. So, her father said, "Ilâmbe,
my child, you see the trouble you have brought on yourself. For you,
a woman, to make such a demand was too much. Had I not sent Kabala
with you, what would have become of you?" The people gave Ilâmbe a
glad welcome. And she went to her house, and said nothing more about
fine skins.
TALE 16
WHY THE PLANTAIN-STALK BEARS BUT ONE BUNCH
Persons
Oyila (Oil-Palm Tree)
Mbindi (Wild Goat)
Akândâ (Plantain-Stalk)
NOTE
According to native law of hospitality, duty to a guest requires almost
any sacrifice. This is oriental. (See Genesis Chap. 19, vs. 8.) A
plantain-stalk bears but one bunch. Therefore, to gather the fruit,
the stalk with apparent ruthlessness is cut down. But, there are always
from two to five young sprouts at the base, from 2 feet to 5 feet in
height, which, in succession, take the place of the parent stem.
Observe the Cannibalism. All African tribes were formerly
Cannibals. Many interior tribes still are. This story is a marked
illustration of the characteristic impossibilities in native tales,
"Plantain" being at one and the same time a plant and a human being!
Palm-tree produced Plantain tree.
Then there stood up an animal called Wild Goat, and it went to seek
marriage with Palm-tree's daughter Plantain. It was so arranged;
and the marriage was held.
As Goat and his wife were about departing to his own town, Palm-tree
gave some parting advice to her daughter Plantain; "When you shall
be about to become a mother, come back and stay with me."
Not long after this, Plantain was to become a mother; and people went
to Palm-tree to inform her of the fact. This daughter Plantain did not
obey her mother's directions, but remained in the town until her child
was born. This was told to mother Palm-tree, who was dissatisfied,
and said, "Eh! I told Akândâ to have her child born with me!"
The reason that Palm-tree had given this direction to Plantain was,
that, as her own custom, in bearing her palm-nuts, was to have several
bunches in sight at one time, and ripening in succession, she wished
her daughter to have the same habit.
After Plantain had borne her child, it grew well and became very
strong. One day, strangers came to the town on a visit; and, when
the villagers looked for food for the visitors, to their shame,
they found they had none. Then one of the women of the village said,
"Well! let us cut down this Akândâ, and cook it and eat it." So, a
machete was seized, and Plantain's stalk was slashed, and Palm-tree's
child Plantain was taken and cooked and eaten. At this, people went
and told Palm-tree, saying, "Your child is cut down, and is cooked
and eaten." The mother Palm-tree helplessly replied, "What can I do?"
All this while, the husband Goat had been away on a journey. When he
returned, and came to his town, and found that his wife, Palm-tree's
child, was not there, he asked, "My wife; is she dead?" The people
answered him, "Yes!" "But," he asked, "for what reason did she
die?" They answered, "Because the people of the town had no food for
their guests." Mbindi complained further, saying, "So! when Akândâ was
cooked, you gave your guests only plantains; were you so inhospitable
as to give them also no meat or fish?"
At this the people were vexed, and they said, "Well then! let this
husband be killed and eaten as the meat!" So they killed and ate him.
This news, people also carried to Palm-tree, telling her that
Plantain's husband was also killed and eaten.
Then Palm-tree came to the town to speak about the death of
Plantain. The people justified themselves, saying, "But, what else
could we do? It was necessary to provide for the guests."
Palm-tree submitted, "Truly, had Akândâ obeyed me and come to me
and borne her child in my presence, she would have had abundance,
and would not have died."
PART SECOND
BENGA TRIBE
FOREWORD
The tales of this second part had their source with narrators of
Benga-speaking tribes of Corisco Island, the region of the Bonito
River, and Batanga. Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 4 were written in Benga by
the pioneer missionaries, Rev. Messrs. Mackey and Clemens, from the
dictation in Benga by natives of Corisco, more than 40 years ago; and
were printed as reading-lessons in the Primer used in their schools.
I have translated them into English. They having thus passed twice
through foreign thought, have lost most of their native idioms. Tale
4 was independently re-told me at Batanga within the past few years,
by a narrator living there. It differs from the version printed in
the Primer, and I have combined the two.
The remaining thirty tales were given me at Batanga; by three adult
narrators, all of them civilized men. They spoke them with me alone,
or in the presence of one or two silent attendants, sentence by
sentence, in their Bapuku dialect of the Benga language. I rapidly
made notes in an English translation of their principal words. This
was always at night, in order to leave the narrator at that ease which
he would naturally feel if he was telling the story to an audience
in the street, as he is accustomed to do in the evenings. For that
purpose also, I shaded my lamp, using its light only for my pencil;
he therefore spoke unrestrainedly. Next morning, with my memory still
fresh of the night's story, I filled out the sentences. This set of
the tales therefore is more native, in the preservation of its idioms,
than any other part.
TALE 1
SWINE TALKING
Persons
Ingowa (Hogs)
NOTE
Unlike other native legends based on "they say," the native narrator,
now more than 40 years ago, gave the name and family name of the
man who is stated to have reported that he heard Swine talking with
human speech.
There was a certain man in the time long ago, by name Bokona, whose
family name was Bodikito. He went to the depths of the forest to do
some business. When he was about to return in the afternoon to go to
his village, he heard in advance of him, a noise of conversation. He
thought that perhaps they were people (of whose presence he was not
aware; for, there were no villages in that part of the forest). But,
when he had approached the spot, he did not see people; but only a
herd of Hogs speaking with the voices of people. He was thus perfectly
sure that they speak the language of Mankind.
TALE 2
CROCODILE
Persons
Ngando (Crocodile)
Two Children, and Towns-People
Two children were bathing in a river; and a crocodile came where they
were. It seized one, and, grasping it with its teeth, went with it
to its hole in the river bank. It did not kill him, but said to him,
"I leave you here, and I go straight back to bring the other one who
remained." After the crocodile had left, the one thus put into the
hole, turning his eyes about, saw it full of living fish (kept on
hand by the crocodile as its food-supply). He saw also that there was
another opening in the cavity, above, just over his head. Climbing
up and jumping through it, he rapidly went straight away to his
village. He related all this incident to the people. Then they gladly
fired guns, for welcome of the child.
When the crocodile reached the bathing-place on its return, it did
not see the one whom it had left there; and it was angry. While it
was thus angry, the people shot at it with guns, but their shots
could not even wound it; and it went back again to its hole to seek
for and eat the child whom it had seized.
When it again entered into the hole and searched, and did not find
him, it was very angry, and pursued him, going up to the very middle
of the village. For three days it was there barking in the village,
and trying to kill some one.
TALE 3
ORIGIN OF THE ELEPHANT
Persons
Uhâdwe, Bokume and Njâku Sons of Njambi the Creator
Towns-People, Sailors and Others
NOTE
I have never seen the place; but, intelligent natives, (though they
did not believe in the legend itself) told me there was the likeness
to a human foot-print in a rock on the beach of the north shore of
Corisco Bay. Doubtless a fossil.
Uhâdwe, Bokume, and Njâku were human beings, all three born of one
mother. (Afterwards Bokume was called "Njâpe.")
As time went on, Uhâdwe called his brethren, Bokume and Njâku, and
said, "My brothers! Let us separate; myself, I am going to the Great
Sea; you, Bokume go to the Forest; you, Njâku, also go to the Forest."
Bokume went to the forest and grew up there, and became the valuable
mahogany tree (Okume).
Njâku departed; but he went in anger, saying, "I will not remain
in the forest, I am going to build with the towns-people." He came
striding back to the town. As he emerged there from the forest, his
feet swelled and swelled, and became elephant feet. His ear extended
'way down. His teeth spreading, this one grew to a tusk, and that
one grew to a tusk. The towns-people began to hoot at him. And he
turned back to the forest. But, as he went, he said to them, "In my
going now to the Forest, I and whatever plants you shall plant in the
forest shall journey together," (i.e., that their plantations should
be destroyed by him). So Njâku went; and their food went.
When Uhâdwe had gone thence and emerged at the Sea, from the place
where he emerged there grew the stem of "bush-rope" (the Calamus palm);
and the staff he held became a mangrove forest. The footprints where
he and his dog trod are there on the beach of Corisco Bay until this
day. He created a sand-bank from where he stood, extending through the
ocean, by which he crossed over to the Land of the Great Sea. When he
reached that Land, he prepared a ship. He put into it every production
by which white people obtain wealth, and he said to the crew, "Go ye
and take for me my brother."
The ship came to Africa and put down anchor; but, for four days the
crew did not find any person coming from shore to set foot on the
ship, or to go from the ship to set foot ashore, the natives being
destitute of canoes.
Finally, Uhâdwe came and appeared to the towns-people in a dream,
and said, "Go ye to the forest and cut down Njâpe, dig out a canoe,
and go alongside the ship."
Early next morning they went to the forest, and came to the Okume
trees; they cut one down, and hacked it into shape. They launched it on
the sea, and said to their young men, "Go!" Four young men went into
the canoe to go alongside the ship. When they had nearly reached it,
looking hither and thither they feared, and they stopped and ceased
paddling. The white men on the ship made repeated signs to them. Then
the young men, having come close, spoke to the white men in the native
language. A white man answered also in the same language. That white
man said, "I have come to buy the tusks of the beast which is here
in the forest with big feet and tusks and great ears, that is called
Njâku." They said, "Yes! a good thing!" When they were about leaving,
the white man advancing to them, deposited with them four bunches of
tobacco, four bales of prints, four caps, and other things.
When they reached the shore, they told the others, "The white men want
Njâku's tusks; and also they have things by which to kill his tribe."
The next morning, they went to the white men; they were trusted with
guns and bullets and powder; they went to the forest, and fought with
the elephants. In two days the ship was loaded, and it departed.
This continues to happen so until this day, in the Ivory-Trade.
TALE 4
LEOPARD'S MARRIAGE JOURNEY
Persons
Njambi (Chief of a Town)
Njâ (Leopard)
Etoli (House-Rat)
Mbindi (Wild Goat)
Vyâdu (Antelope)
Ehibo (Red Antelope)
Iheli (Gazelle)
Ekwedikwedi (Fire-Fly)
Leopard wanted to marry, and he sought a betrothal at Njambi's
town. Secretly, Njambi had arranged with Leopard that he should bring
him no goods in payment of the "Dowry," but only the bodies of animals.
Leopard agreed, and said to Njambi's daughter, "I will dowry you
only with animals." He returned to his home for a few days; and
then he called Rat to escort him to the town of his prospective
father-in-law. Rat consented. And they started on their journey.
On their way, they came to a wide river; and Leopard said to Rat,
"Before one crosses this river, he must throw his knife into it." Rat
threw his knife; and so (apparently) did Leopard. They crossed; went
on their way, and came to a Kuda tree; and they stopped, and began to
gather the nuts. Leopard drew his knife from its sheath, and splitting
the nut-shells and eating the kernels, said derisively to Rat, "One who
has no knife will not be able to eat kuda." Rat, in his helplessness,
made no protest. And they went on. They came to a certain "Medicine"
tree; and Leopard said, "Etoli, if I shall fall sick on the way, and I
tell you to go back and get the bark of a certain tree for medicine,
see! this is the tree." Finally, they came to the town of the woman
whom Leopard was to marry. There, food was cooked for them. Just
before they were to sit down to eat, Leopard exclaimed, "Etoli! I am
sick! Go, and get that medicine for me!" While Rat was gone, Leopard
ate up almost all the food, leaving only a few scraps for Rat.
At night, inside of the entrance of the house where the two strangers
were to sleep, was a pit already dug. Leopard knew of it, and jumped
over it; but Rat fell into it. Leopard shouted to the town's-people,
"This is the animal I brought to pay on my Dowry! Come, and take
him!" The people came, caught Rat, and ate him.
The next morning, Leopard's father-in-law had food prepared for him; he
ate; and returned to his town. There, the relatives of Rat asked him,
"Where is the little one you took to escort you?" Leopard replied,
"He refused to return, staying there with the woman."