Rat waited a while in the front, and, not hearing the drum came back

into the house, and called out, "Chum! where are you?" He looked about,

and his eyes falling on the drying-frame, he saw that the dried meat

was not there. He began to mourn, "Ah! Leopard will kill me to day,

because of the loss of his meat."

While he was thus speaking, the company of trappers, together with

Leopard, came back from their morning's work. Leopard told Rat all

that had occurred to them in the forest at their traps and snares;

and then said, "Now, tell me what you have been doing, and the

happenings of this camp." Rat told him, "Some one has come and taken

away the dried meat, but I did not see who it was." Leopard said,

"You are full of falsehood. Yourself have eaten it while we were away

in the forest." So, Leopard gave him a heavy flogging. Then they put

on the drying-frame the animal they had trapped that day.

The next day they went again to the forest; and Wild-Rat was left

in charge of the camp. The nephew came, as on the day before, with

his plate and drum, and did in the same way at the water. And he

deceived the Wild-Rat with his drumming, in the same way as he had

done to House-Rat.

When Leopard and the others came back from the forest, Wild-Rat told

him of the loss of the meat; and said that he had seen no one, and

did not know who took it. Leopard said to him, "You, Ko, have eaten

the meat, just as your relative Etoli ate his yesterday."

Thus Leopard and his company went each day to the traps. On the third

day, Porcupine was caught; on the fourth Gazelle; on the fifth, Ox;

on the sixth, Elephant. Beast after beast was caught, killed and

dried; and, day by day, the meat of all was stolen. The last to be

thus caught and stolen was Tortoise.

The nephew in Leopard's town, looked with satisfaction on the pile

of dried meat that had been collected in his own house. He said to

himself, "My uncle told me to gather them; and I have done so. But,

I will not put them in Uncle's house."

In the camp, there was left only one animal of Leopard's companions

that had not been placed on guard. It was a Bird, a water Wag-tail. It

said to Leopard one day, "While you all go on your errand today, I

will remain as keeper of the house." Leopard replied, "No! my friend,

I don't wish you to remain." (For, Leopard knew that that Bird was

very cautious and wise, more so than some other animals.) Nevertheless,

they went, leaving the Bird in charge of the house.

The nephew came, as usual, with his plate and drum. He splashed the

water of the stream as usual, to see whether there was anyone in

the house to respond. And the Bird asked, "Who are you?" The nephew

answered, in a humble voice, "I." He came on through the stream, on

his way, catching two cray-fish. He entered the house, and he said

to the Bird, "Get me some salt, and a leaf in which to tie and roast

these cray-fish." When the Bird gave him the leaf, he tied them in

it, and laid the small bundle on the coals on the fire-place. But

he at once took up the bundle, opened it, and ate the fish, before

they were really cooked. The Bird said to him, "Those fish were not

yet cooked. Your stomach is like your Uncle Njâ's. Both you and your

Uncle like to eat things raw."

The Bird at once suspected that the nephew was the thief. When the

nephew said, "I have here a drum," Bird at once, as if very willing,

replied, "Drum! I want to dance." The nephew was standing in the front

with his drum, and he said to Bird, "Come and dance out here; for,

the drum sounds much better outside." But the Bird said, "I will not

dance in the same place with you." The nephew then said, "Well, then;

change places; you come here, and I go into the house." But the Bird

refused, "No! I stay in the house."

Most of the morning was thus spent by the nephew trying to deceive

the Bird, and get into the house alone. Finally, the nephew wearied,

and gave up the effort and left.

Soon the company of trappers with Leopard returned from the forest. He

told the Bird all the news of their forest work. Looking at the

drying-frames, Leopard saw that the dried meat was still there. He

thought in his heart, "My nephew has not come today to get this meat."

The Bird then told Leopard all the news of the camp, and how the nephew

had been acting. At the last, he exclaimed, "So! it is your nephew

who has been coming here every day to take away the dried meat!" And

all the animals agreed, "So! so! that's so!" But Leopard replied,

"I don't believe it. But, let us adjourn and examine." (He supposed

the meat was hidden in his own house, and would not be discovered.)

They all scattered, and hastened to their town. There they entered

the nephew's house; and there they found a great pile of dried

meat. They proved the theft on Leopard himself, pointing out, "Here

is the very meat in the house of one of your own family. We are sure

that you yourself made the conspiracy with your nephew for him to do

the stealing for you." And they all denounced him, "You are a thief

and a liar! You shall not join with us any more in the same town."

Leopard went away in wrath saying, "Do you prove it on me? Well

then! all you beasts, whenever and wherever I shall meet you, it will

be only to eat you!"

So, leopards are always enemies to all other animals, and they kill

them whenever they are able.

TALE 21

IS THE BAT A BIRD OR A BEAST?

Persons

Ndemi (Bat) and his Mother

Joba (The Sun)

Vyâdu (Antelope)

Hako (Ants)

Other Animals and Birds

NOTE

In Tropical Africa, it is not usual to retain a corpse unburied as

long as 24 hours. Bat retained his mother's corpse too long. The

"Driver" Ants of that country are natural scavengers.

A reason why bats are not seen in the day time:--Also, why they make

their plaintive cry at night, as if they were calling for their mother.

Bat lived at a place by itself, with only its mother. Shortly

after their settling there, the mother became sick, very near to

death. Bat called for Antelope, and said to him, "Make medicine for my

mother." Antelope looked steadily at her to discern her disease. Then

he told Bat, "There is no one who can make the medicine that will

cure your mother, except Joba." Having given this information,

Antelope returned to his own place.

On another day, early in the morning, Bat arose to go to call Sun. He

did not start until about seven o'clock. He met Sun on the road about

eleven o'clock. And he said to Sun, "My journey was on the way to

see you." Sun told him, "If you have a word to say, speak!" So Bat

requested, "Come! make Medicine for my mother. She is sick." But

Sun replied, "I can't go to make medicine unless you meet me in my

house; not here on the road. Go back; and come to me at my house

tomorrow." So, Bat went back to his town.

And the day darkened. And they all slept their sleep.

And the next day broke. At six o'clock, Bat started to go to call

Sun. About nine o'clock, he met Sun on the path; and he told Sun what

he was come for. But Sun said to him, "Whenever I emerge from my house,

I do not go back, but I keep on to the end of my journey. Go back,

for another day." Bat returned to his town.

He made other journeys in order to see Sun at his house, five

successive days; and every day he was late, and met Sun already on

the way of his own journey for his own business.

Finally, on the seventh day, Bat's mother died. Then Bat, in his grief,

said, "It is Joba who has killed my mother! Had he made medicine for

me, she would have recovered."

Very many people came together that day in a crowd, at the Kwedi

(mourning) for the dead. The wailing was held from six o'clock in

the morning until eleven o'clock of the next day. At that hour, Bat

announced, "Let her be taken to the grave." He called other Beasts to

go into the house together with him, in order to carry the corpse. They

took up the body, and carried it on the way to the grave.

On their arrival at the grave, these Beasts said to Bat, "We have

a rule that, before we bury a person, we must first look upon the

face." (To identify it). So, they opened the coffin. When they had

looked on the face, they said, "No! we can't bury this person; for,

it is not our relative, it does not belong to us Beasts. This person

indeed resembles us in having teeth like us. And it also has a head

like us. But, that it has wings, makes it look like a bird. It is a

bird. Call for the Birds! We will disperse." So, they dispersed.

Then Bat called the Birds to come. They came, big and little; Pelicans,

Eagles, Herons and all the others. When they all had come together,

they said to Bat, "Show us the dead body." He told them, "Here it

is! Come! look upon it!" They looked and examined carefully. Then they

said, "Yes! it resembles us; for, it has wings as we. But, about the

teeth, No! We birds, none of us, have any teeth. This person does not

resemble us with those teeth. It does not belong to us." And all the

Birds stepped aside.

During the while that the talking had been going on, Ants had come

and laid hold of the body, and could not be driven away. Then one of

the Birds said to Bat, "I told you, you ought not to delay the burial,

for, many things might happen." The Ants had eaten the body and there

was no burial. And all the birds and beasts went away.

Bat, left alone, said to himself, "All the fault of all this trouble

is because of Joba. If he had made medicine, my mother would not be

dead. So, I, Ndemi, and Joba shall not look on each other. We shall

have no friendship. If he emerges, I shall hide myself. I won't meet

him or look at him." And he added, "I shall mourn for my mother

always. I will make no visits. I will walk about only at night,

not in the daytime, lest I meet Joba or other people."

TALE 22

DOG, AND HIS HUMAN SPEECH (1st Version)

Persons

Mbwa (Dog), and His Mother

A Man Njambo, and Daughter Eyâle

NOTE

In the pre-historic times, from which these tales come, all animals,

both human and (what we now call) the lower animals, were supposed

to associate together, even in marriage. This son Mbwa, in form

(and speaking also) like what we now call a "Dog," spoke also with

human speech. The reason is here given why this ancestor of Dogs left

the country of the Beasts. But, though Dogs now live with Mankind,

they cannot use human speech as their ancestor did. They can only say

"Ow! Ow!"

Dog and his mother were the only inhabitants of their hamlet. He had

the power to speak both as a beast and as a human being.

One day the mother said to the son, "You are now a strong man; go,

and seek a marriage. Go, and marry Eyâle, the daughter of Njambo." And

he said to his mother, "I will go tomorrow."

That day darkened. And they both went to lie down in their places

for sleep.

Then soon, another day began to break.

Dog said to his mother, "This is the time of my journey." It was

about sun-rise in the morning. And he began his journey. He went the

distance of about eight miles; and arrived at the journey's end before

the middle of the morning.

He entered the house of Njambo, the father of Eyâle. Njambo and his

wife saluted him, "Mbolo!" and he responded, "Ai! mbolo!" Njambo

asked him, "My friend! what is the cause of your journey?" Dog, with

his animal language, answered, "I have come to marry your daughter

Eyâle." Njambo consented; and the mother of the girl also agreed. They

called their daughter, and asked her; and she also replied, "Yes! with

all my heart." This young woman was of very fine appearance in face

and body. So, all the parties agreed to the marriage.

After that, about sun-set in the evening, when they sat down at supper,

the son-in-law, Dog, was not able to eat for some unknown reason.

That day darkened; and they went to their sleep.

And, then, the next daylight broke. But, by an hour after sunrise in

the morning, Dog had not risen; he was still asleep.

The mother of the woman said to her, "Get some water ready for the

washing of your husband's face, whenever he shall awake." She also

said to her daughter, "I am going to go into the forest to the

plantation to get food for your husband; for, since his coming,

he has not eaten. Also, here is a chicken; the lads may kill and

prepare it. But, you yourself must split ngândâ (gourd-seeds, whose

oily kernels are mashed into a pudding)." She handed Eyâle the dish

of gourd-seeds, and went off into the forest. Njambo also went away

on an errand with his wife. The daughter took the dish of seeds,

and, sitting down, began to shell them. As she shelled, she threw

the kernels on the ground, but the shells she put on a plate.

Shortly after the mother had gone, Dog woke from sleep. He rose from

his bed, and came out to the room where his wife was, and stood near

her, watching her working at the seeds. He stood silent, looking

closely, and observed that she was still throwing away the kernels,

the good part, and saving the shells on the plate. He spoke to her

with his human voice, "No! woman! not so! Do you throw the good parts,

to the ground, and the worthless husks onto the plate?"

While he was thus speaking to his wife, she suddenly fell to the

ground. And at once she died. He laid hold of her to lift her up. But,

behold! she was a corpse.

Soon afterwards, the father and the mother came, having returned from

their errands. They found their child a corpse; and they said to Dog,

"Mbwa! What is this?" He, with his own language replied, "I cannot

tell." But, they insisted, "Tell us the reason!"

So Dog spoke with his human voice, "You, Woman, went to the forest

while I was asleep. You, Man, you also went in company of your wife,

while I was asleep. When I rose from sleep, I found my wife was

cracking ngândâ. She was taking the good kernels to throw on the

ground, and was keeping the shells for the plate. And I spoke and

told her, 'The good kernels which you are throwing on the ground are

to be eaten, not the husks.'"

While he was telling them this, they too, also fell to the ground,

and died, apparently without cause.

When the people of the town heard about all this, they said, "This

person carries an evil Medicine for killing people. Let him be seized

and killed!"

So Dog fled away rapidly into the forest; and he finally reached the

hamlet of his mother. His body was scratched and torn by the branches

and thorns of the bushes of the forest, in his hasty flight. His

mother exclaimed, "Mbwa! What's the matter? Such haste! and your body

so disordered!" He replied, using their own language, "No! I won't

tell you. I won't speak." But, his mother begged him, "Please! my

child! tell me!" So, finally, he spoke, using his strange voice,

and said, "My mother! I tell you! Njambo and his wife liked me for

the marriage; and the woman consented entirely. I was at that time

asleep, when the Man and his wife went to the forest. When I rose

from my sleep, I found the woman Eyâle cracking ngândâ, and throwing

away the kernels, and keeping the husks. And I told her, 'The good

ones which you are throwing away are the ones to be eaten.' And,

at once she died."

While he was speaking thus to his mother, she also fell dead on the

ground. The news was carried to the town of Dog's mother's brother,

and very many people came to the Mourning. His Uncle came to Dog,

and said, "Mbwa! what is the reason of all this?" But Dog would not

answer. He only said, "No! I won't speak." Then they all begged him,

"Tell us the reason." But he replied only, "No! I won't speak."

Finally, as they urged him, he chose two of them, and said to the

company, "The rest of you remain here, and watch while I go and speak

to these two." Then Dog spoke to those two men with the same voice as

he had to his mother. And, at once they died, as she had died. Then he

exclaimed, "Ah! No! If I speak so, people will come to an end!" And

all the people agreed, "Yes, Mbwa! it is so. Your human speech kills

us people. Don't speak any more."

And he went away to live with Mankind.

TALE 22

DOG, AND HIS HUMAN SPEECH (2nd Version)

Persons

Njambo, His Wife Nyangwa-Mbwa, and His Son Mbwa (Dog)

The Prophet, Totode, and a Sorcerer, Nja-Ya-Melema-Mya-Bato

His Three Other Wives,

Majanga,

Inyanji,

Mamendi; and Her Two Twins.

NOTE

Some African ant-hills are built in upright pillars, varying in

diameter from 3 to 10 inches, and in height from 1 ft. to 3 ft.

The bearing of a monstrosity formerly was punished (and in some

tribes still) by driving the mother into seclusion in the forest,

and generally with killing of the child. In some tribes, twins were

considered monstrosities.

The "Heart-beat" of Nyangwa-Mbwa was the commonly believed premonition

of coming evil.

There are many kinds of food, of which women are not allowed to

partake.

Though the three sisters were daughters of the same mother, the

jealousy of two of them for the other one led them to hatred, and

an attempt at murder. Their curse laid on Mbwa caused him to be a

speechless beast; for, previous to that, he was talking as a human

being. "Heart-life" is an entity distinct from both Body and Soul.

Njambu married a woman named Nyangwa-Mbwa. She bore a creature that

looked like no animal that existed at that time. But, because he

spoke as a human being, he was not considered a Beast. He was given

part of his mother's name, Mbwa.

Njambu added other marriages. Among them he obtained three women,

each one of whom had a special office. That of Majanga was to keep

things clean. That of Inyanji for planting. Mamendi said that her work

should be to bear twins. Now, these three women were sisters. The

other two were jealous of Mamendi, because her work was greater and

more honorable than theirs.

In the course of time, Mamendi conceived; her pregnancy went regularly

on. And the time for her confinement came. Majanga and Inyanji went

to deliver her. But they tied a napkin over her face, and covered her

eyes lest she should see what they would do to her. When the time of

the birth was at hand, she bore twins.

Then Inyanji and Majanga threw the twins into the pig-pen. And they

took two ant-hills (slender conical structures). They smeared them

with blood. And they went and showed them to Njambu as the things

which Mamendi had borne. Njambu said, "Go! and throw those things

into the forest."

But Mbwa was going about; and as he went, he was scenting, till he came

to the pig-pen; and he saw the twins. He took them, and carried them

to his mother in their hut, which was isolated from the town. When

the two women had left the twins in the pig-pen, their intention was

that the pigs might kill them; and the women did not know that Mbwa

had removed them. The twins stayed with Nyangwa-Mbwa, and she fed

them and nursed them.

But, when Majanga and Inyanji heard that those children were in the

hamlet of Mbwa's mother, they said, "We will go there tomorrow."

Early in the morning, Nyangwa-Mbwa had gone to the forest to her

garden. When the two women came, they found the twins lying down. So,

they struck them a blow; and they died.

The while that Nyangwa-Mbwa was in the forest, her heart beat with

anxiety. She at once picked up her basket, and came to her village,

and found the corpses of both the twins. Then she began to cry.

Mbwa also came, and found the dead bodies stretched out. Right away, he

knew what had happened. So he went to the Prophet Totode, and inquired

what he should do. Totode asked him, "Are you able to go to the town of

Doctor Nja-ya-melema-mya-bato? (Hunger-for-the-hearts-of-people)." He

agreed "Yes, I will go there." Then he went to the town of the Doctor.

A child of the Doctor spoke to Mbwa, and asked, "What have you come

to do?" He answered, "I have come to seek heart-life; because my

father's wives have killed from me two children."

Already Nja-ya-melema-mya-bato had gone to kill people for himself. In

a little while he returned and suddenly, pieces of meat (from the dead

bodies) began to fall, kidi! kidi! being thrown out on the ground in

the street. Mbwa, awaiting a chance, hid himself under a bed.

Then came the Doctor bringing in the heart-lives of the men he had

killed. Mbwa, without permission, seized two of the hearts, and ran out

quickly. Nja-ya-melema-mya-bato followed after him, running rapidly,

da! da! da! But he did not overtake Mbwa.

Mbwa ran in haste with the hearts, on to his village. There he thrust

the new lives into the children. The twins arose again to life and

stood, to show themselves, and then they sat down.

Those twins went on growing, and became stout young men.

One day they said to Mbwa, "We want guns." He went to his father,

in the town, and said, "I want two guns." His father produced two

guns for him. He took them, went to his home, and handed them to the

twins. Then they tried the guns, and loaded them.

Next day, in the morning, they went out early to hunt; they killed two

gazelles; and they took them to their village. Mbwa cut up one of the

beasts; and he said to his mother, "Cook it." Then he took the other

one to his father. His father cut it up; and he called Majanga and

Inyanji; and, dividing the meat, he said to them, "Go ye, and cook

these in the pot, and those in a jomba." (Mbwa himself was still in

the house watching them.) They boiled, and cooked; they put in the

salt and pepper; and were about to taste the soup when Mbwa said,

"Not so! This meat is not to be eaten by women."

They took the food to the Reception-house, where their husband Njambu

ate; and he laid aside some for them. But, what he laid aside for

those women, Mbwa drew away and ate. Then he returned to his home. His

mother made food; and they ate, all four of them.

Next morning, the twins returned to their hunting. They killed also

three antelopes, and they carried them to take them to their home,

and left them in the path on the way outside of the village. In the

village, they said to Mbwa, "Go, and bring the beasts from the forest."

Mbwa started, and brought them to the village. He carried two to

his father. His brothers exclaimed, "Where does Mbwa kill all those

animals?" His father cut up the animals, and divided one with his

children. He cut up the other, saying, "This belongs to myself." Then

he prepared some to be cooked in momba (bundles tied in plantain

leaves), and some to be dried, and some to be boiled.

The women boiled the food (Mbwa still watching them). When it was

cooked, they lifted up the pot from the fire, and they were about to

taste it, when Mbwa said, "No! you must not taste it!" They put it

in bowls, and set the food before their husband; and he ate. When he

was about to give some to his wives, Mbwa said, "Not so!"

The twins continued with their hunting just the same as at the

first. Almost every day they were killing some animal. And Mbwa

continued also with carrying meat to the town of his father.

Finally, the twins became full-grown men. Then Mbwa said to himself,

"Now, I'm ready to bring this matter to the ears of the people." When

another day came, he said to his father, "Tomorrow, call all the

people of the town together, in the afternoon."

On the next day, his father did so. Mbwa dressed the twins very

finely; and brought out three chairs, two for the twins, and one for

his mother. All the people collected together. Thereupon, he brought

forward his mother, and the twins. The people fixed their eyes on them;

for they had not seen them in their little hamlet in the forest. The

people exclaimed, "What fine-looking persons!"

Then Mbwa stood up. He said, "Ye people! I have called you all that

ye may recognize these two young men." The people said that they did

not know them. He continued, "These are my father's children. For,

my father had married these three women. Also, they had three duties;

Majanga, her duty of keeping the house clean; Inyanji, her duty of

planting; and Mamendi's was the bearing of twins. Mamendi became

a mother. On the day of her confinement, her two sisters went to

deliver her. They took a napkin and covered her eyes. And she bore

these two twins. They threw them inside the pig-pen. And they took two

small earthen pillars instead, and they went and showed them to their

husband. Then, I entered the pig-pen; and I took these children out;

and brought them to my mother. So, these children grew up. And they

began hunting. You, my father, you remember when I brought you the

wild meat, and you were about to give to these women; but, I went and

took away the food. The reason is, because they are the ones who tried

to kill the children. I brought them up from childhood to be men as

now. So, this caused me to bring this case before the presence of all

people; for, I say that those two women were murderesses. So, then,

my father, these are your children; but, if you retain those women,

these two twins shall not be your sons."

Where Animals Talk: West African Folk Lore Tales · 第 12 / 18 段