Author: Patrick

Categories
Folktales

How a Bushdevil Was Danced to Death

A Bushdevil wandered through the forest until he came to a place where two paths crossed; and here he made his home. This was a bad thing for the people who used these paths, for Bushdevils are wicked and devour human beings.

When anyone came to the crossroads the Bushdevil would jump out of his hole in the ground, holding a drum under his arm. He would begin beating the drum, and command the wayfarer to dance.

“Dance, O man! Dance, and I will drum for you — and he who tires first must die!”

The unfortunate traveler, be he man or woman or child, would be obliged to dance a Dance of Death; for invariably the dancer tired first, and was killed and eaten by the Bushdevil.

In a nearby town there were two twins; and, as all men know, twins often have unusual powers. They make fine magicians and medicine men, they are wise in telling fortunes and know the use of herbs and poison.

This pair of twins decided they would outwit and kill the Bushdevil, who had killed many people from their town and they left their town one morning to see what they could do. One of them crept ahead softly, softly, and hid behind an anthill close to the Bushdevil’s hole, and then his brother boldly approached singing in a pleasant song.

The Bushdevil heard him coming and jumped from his hold.

“Ho! he cried in great delight. He had not seen a man for days. “Ho, young man. Come and dance for me! Bushdevil began tampering excitedly with his drum.

“Thank you, sir,” said the lad. “It is a fine morning for a dance — play on!”

The Bushdevil threw back his herd and laughed at such insolence.

“Do you know, youth, that the one of us who tires first must die?”

“Fine,” said the twin. That means the other one will Live“ He danced and danced to the Bushdevil’s drumming, and when he was tired he skipped behind the anthill and his brother skipped out in his place. In this fashion the twins danced for three whole days; whenever one was dancing the other one was resting.

The Bushdevil was astonished to see, so he thought, one man danced on and on, day and night, and he himself grew tired. The twins kept changing places. The Bushdevil dropped, and wilted, and at last he fell exhausted on the ground.

The twins killed Bushdevil by cutting off his head; they impaled the head on a stake and carried it into town, and there it stayed as a warning to all devils that twins lived in that place and would tolerate no wicked deviltry.

Categories
Folktales

Eagle, Doo-Doo, and Rice Bird

In other days Eagle, Doo-Doo and the Rice Bird were good friends, and they would build their nests close to each other. During Hungry Season Eagle called her two friends and said:

“Hungry time is with us again, and we three must work together if we are to find enough to eat, and raise our families as well. I suggest that we take turns in hunting food.”

The two small birds nodded their agreement, for Eagle was a wise bird and they respected her judgment. But the little black and yellow Rice Bird remarked sadly:

“Eagle, your idea is good; but I am a small-small bird. When my turn comes to hunt for food how will I bring enough? I can barely keep my own family alive. Would it not be better if you search for food and I guard your eggs as well as mine?”

The Doo-Doo, who was only a little larger than Rice Bird, also said:

“Eagle, those are my words too. I am only a small-small bird and would have no chance of finding food for three families. It would be better if I stayed with Rice Bird to guard your family while you hunt.”

Eagle agreed to let the two small birds take turns in guarding her nest of eggs, but she reminded them that a large snake lived nearby.

“As fast as I lay my eggs this snake sneaks up and eats them, “Eagle said. “I’ve just laid a new batch, and that old snake will try to get them too. But you keep watch, you two young birds, and I’ll teach you a little song to sing whenever you find my nest in danger. No matter where I am I shall always hear this song and come at once. The song is this:

“Danger to your nest Eagle; Come home to your nest, Eagle; Come at once and swiftly or you’ll lose your eggs.”

Thereafter Eagle would go searching for food all through the day, and Doo-Doo and Rice Bird took turns at guarding her nest. Rice Bird was quick and intelligent, and several times her shrill voice brought Eagle home in time to save her eggs from the hungry snake.

But Doo-Doo was an ugly and lazy bird with a blunt, cracked voice. When her turn cam to guard Eagle’s eggs she would sleep until the snake was just about to take the eggs, and only then would she awake and sing the eagle-song.

Three times Rice Bird warned her, but Doo-Doo took no notice.

One day when Eagle was hunting, and it was Doo-Doo’s turn to watch the next, the snake crawled up and swallowed all the eggs while Doo-Doo was asleep. As the snake was gliding away Doo-Doo awoke. She found the eggs were missing and began to sing the eagle-song, but now it was too late.

Eagle flew in at great speed, and at a glance she saw her eggs had gone. For a little while she searched wildly under the tree and in the bushes, but in vain. She was so angry she forgot the friendship between herself and Doo-Doo — She swooped on her lazy friend and tore her to pieces.

From that day onward eagles have made war on doo-doos, but they still love and protect the little black and yellow rice birds.

Categories
Folktales

How Fisher-Bird Gained His Colors

One day a woman was gathering palm nuts in the forest then she fell from a tree and hurt herself so badly she could not walk. As she lay on the ground in pain Green Pigeon alighted on a nearby branch.

“Pigeon,” cried the woman, “fly to my village and tell my people I lie here, hurt and unable to move.”

“I am too busy,” Green Pigeon answered, and flew away.

Hawk saw her lying there, and came close.

“Hawk,” said the woman, “I give you these palm nuts. Eat them, and then go to my village and tell my husband to come. I have broken bones and cannot move.”

Hawk ate the nuts, but then laughed and flew away, saying he had no time to carry messages for foolish woman. Then Fisher-bird came. In those days he was a plain and ordinary bird without any bright colors.

“I see you are hurt, Woman,” he said at once. And bring a friendly creature he added: “I will fly to your village, and tell your people to come.”

He flew to the village, and the woman’s relatives came to fetch her. Some days later, when the woman was almost well again, Fisher-bird came to see how she was.

“O Fisher-bird,” declared the grateful woman, “you are the best and most courteous of birds. I shall give you colors befitting your noble heart, so that all men know and love you.”

With dyes she used for dying cloth she painted the delighted bird in royal colors of purple, emerald and blue, and Fisher-bird wears those colors to this day. But Hawk and Green Pigeon are hunted and killed.

Categories
Folktales

How Leopard Lost His Chiefdom

One day a woman was gathering palm nuts in the forest then she fell from a tree and hurt herself so badly she could not walk. As she lay on the ground in pain Green Pigeon alighted on a nearby branch.

“Pigeon,” cried the woman, “fly to my village and tell my people I lie here, hurt and unable to move.”

“I am too busy,” Green Pigeon answered, and flew away.

Hawk saw her lying there, and came close.

“Hawk,” said the woman, “I give you these palm nuts. Eat them, and then go to my village and tell my husband to come. I have broken bones and cannot move.”

Hawk ate the nuts, but then laughed and flew away, saying he had no time to carry messages for foolish woman. Then Fisher-bird came. In those days he was a plain and ordinary bird without any bright colors.

“I see you are hurt, Woman,” he said at once. And bring a friendly creature he added: “I will fly to your village, and tell your people to come.”

He flew to the village, and the woman’s relatives came to fetch her. Some days later, when the woman was almost well again, Fisher-bird came to see how she was.

“O Fisher-bird,” declared the grateful woman, “you are the best and most courteous of birds. I shall give you colors befitting your noble heart, so that all men know and love you.”

With dyes she used for dying cloth she painted the delighted bird in royal colors of purple, emerald and blue, and Fisher-bird wears those colors to this day. But Hawk and Green Pigeon are hunted and killed.

Categories
Folktales

The Tale of Dove and Thunderdevil

Dove and Thunderdevil were once the best of friends, but Dove could not understand why Thunderdevil never laughed. No matter how excited and amusing the conversation might be, he would merely smile a little and then stop. Dove asked him what the reasons was for this.

“I rarely laugh,” Thunderdevil said, “because my laugh is coarse and mush too noisy. If I laughed you would be terrified — you would think the world was bursting open.”

“You are my friend,” said Dove, “and I am your friend; I would be happy if you laughed.”

Thunderdevil never laughed. There came a time when Dove invited him to dine in his home, and when preparing the meal he remembered he had a quantity of palm wine.

“Ha!” he thought. “If I can persuade Thunderdevil to drink palm wine, I’m sure I can make him laugh.”

He brought the palm wine and poured it into an old cooling jar his grandmother had as a girl, and stirred it with a golden spear. Dove’s grandfather had owned the golden spear, and with it he had conquered all his enemies.

On the appointed day Thunderdevil came; the two friends dined well, and made merry with large quantities of palm wine. The conversation became unusually exciting and amusing, and Thunderbird was happy with the wine. He eyed the gleaming golden spear and asked:

“Dove, where did you get that golden spear?”

“Oh, it belonged to my grandfather,” Dove said proudly. “He made it out of pure gold, and with it he conquered all his enemies.”

The idea of a Dove conquering anyone — and with a golden spear — was too much for Thunderdevil. He burst out laughing. The house exploded. Dove found himself enveloped in a violent burst of noise, and was hurled through the air to some distant place. He fell to earth in a foreign land and lay swooning on the ground for seven days.

From that time until now Dove has never built another house, and he has never talked again to Thunderdevil. All night and often during daylight hours he may be found on forest trails and roads, searching always and everywhere for his grandfather’s golden spear.

Categories
Folktales

How Piso Lake Began

In the days of Long Ago there was a certain small watering hole where doves went to bathe, and the Vai people who lived near that place called it Piling See, or Doves’ Hole. More and more doves came to sing and splash, so that the pool became crowded and other holes were made.

Every time the Big Rains came the holes would become larger, and at length they were all joined together as a lake. Through many generations the name Piling See has turned into Piso.

The lake has several islands. The smallest one is known as Poo, meaning Pigeon, for the colony of pigeons which lives there.

Kafatin Island is in the middle of the lake; a certain Vai source states that when canoes coming down to the sea reached this island the crews would rejoice, for half the trip was done; they would exclaim ‘Kafa’, meaning ‘Halfway’. However, the Bureau of Folkways points out that Kaifa in Vai means ‘over and above’, or ‘to cheat a person’, so this theory of name-origin is open to doubt.

The father of the islands is a sacred island named Boeba, ‘Owner of the World’. Boeba moves about the lake as it wishes, and if a canoe chances to be on the lake when the island moves, canoe and crew are lost forever in the waters.

If anyone points a finger at this sacred island he dies at once. No canoes go to it, and anyone who defiles the waters near it disappears immediately. Boeba is feared and respected, and left very much alone.

Masatin Island is the largest of all and his name is from Masa, the first woman to farm on it.

In former times Piso Lake had a fine strong voice for singing songs; on peaceful evenings it would sing a soft and gentle song, but when the winds roared and lightning fired the sky the waves of Piso Lake boomed against the shore with rich bass overtones and lesser waves drummed mellow modulations.

There came a day when the Sea Goddess and the sea, which had no voice, begged the nearby lake to lend its song so that the Goddess might be properly mourned. The lake consented, and her song was transferred to the sea.

But the song was so sweet and beautiful it revived the ailing Sea Goddess, and then the cunning sea refused to give it back, declaring she had borrowed it to mourn the death of the Goddess and would not give it back until the Goddess died.

So Piso Lake sings no more, but her song is heard throughout the breadth of oceans, causing men to wonder at the multitude of doves which swam and sang in the water-hole so long ago.

Categories
Folktales

How Hare Made a Fool of Leopard

Leopard and Hare each fell in love with lady-Deer, and sought her hand in marriage. Hare was walking with lady-Deer in the forest when Leopard came along; and lady-Deer, who thought Hare was a rather small and unimportant animal, said:

“Oh, I see my lover coming.”

“Then what of me?” cried Hare. “Do you not love me?”

“No,” said lady-Deer, “I do not. Leopard is a gallant and daring animal, you are not.”

“Leopard is a horse! Would you marry a beast of burden, a slave-animal?”

“How is he a horse?”

“He is my horse. He carries me about. He is my slave.”

Lady-Deer did not believe him. Hare went away and bent his head with Leopard in a secret conversation. “I have been talking with lady-Deer,” he said, “and she admits she loves you, but says she could not marry such a fierce, proud animal. She fears you. I told her you had a gentle and tender heart, and that I would prove it.”

“I see,” said Leopard. “Then we must prove that I am not what I am. Go on.”

“My plan is this: you must be my horse and carry me through the town. Lady-Deer will see us, and she will think ‘Oh, what a kind and gentle animal Leopard is.’ Then she will agree to marry you.

Leopard thought about this, and then decided:

“Hare, what you say is true. It is a good idea. For one day I shall be your horse.”

“First you must give me a hamper of cassavas,” Hare said. Leopard gave him a hamper of cassavas, and then carried him around the town. Hare pretended to whip him, and pulled a rope tied around his nose. Next day Leopard went to lady-Deer, but she said:

“O Leopard, go from me. Foolish animal! Hare told me you were his horse, his slave-animal, but I refused to believe him until I saw him riding you through the town upon your back, and whipping you. Shame upon you, Leopard! I shall never speak to you again.”

Leopard was very vexed. He rushed away to find Hare. Hare ran and ran, but still Leopard followed him, and after two days he grew tired of being chased. He entered a cave he knew, and stood there with his hands pressed against the rock which formed the ceiling. He waited until Leopard entered, then cried out:

“Take care, Leopard! The ceiling is falling down. Hold up this rock a minute while I go for help, or we shall die.”

Foolish Leopard pressed his paws against the ceiling with all his strength and Hare ran away. Two raccoons came along and was Leopard there.

“Brother Leopard, why are you holding up a rock which was placed by God? Leave it be and come with us.”

Leopard saw that he had been tricked again, and went with the two raccoons. A week later Hare and his brother, Opossum (Giant Rat), captured the two raccoons. They took off their skins and tied the two naked animals to a tree, and in disguise Hare and Opossum went to Leopard’s house. Here they were received as guests, and after they had feasted Leopard gave them a sleeping room.

A rat had her babies in this room and she asked the guests to bring her some of Leopard’s food; Hare was willing to do this, but Opossum protested against such foolishness. Lady-Rat went hungry, and that night she ate the two raccoon skins while the guests were sleeping.

In the morning Leopard knocked on the door of the guest room. No one opened the door, but he heard sounds of excitement inside. He peered through a crack in the door, and he saw a strange and unexpected sight.

There was Hare dashing frantically about the room looking inside pots, tipping baskets upside down and searching everywhere for something which he could not find. And there was Opossum too, halfway down a hole which he was scrabbling in the floor. The two raccoons had disappeared. Leopard drew back from the door and held a conversation with himself.

“I put two raccoons in that room last night,” he muttered. Two raccoons. And during the night they have become something else. They have turned into Hare and Opossum. A strange thing.”

He remembered that he did not like Opossum very much, and that he did not like Hare at all. He growled a fearful “Wraagh!” and began attacking the door.

By the time he broke through the door Hare had already escaped, by pulling Opossum out of the hole by his tail and going first, under the wall and out into the forest. Leopard just managed to grasp Opossum’s tail as Opossum was about to leave, and the tail lost half it’s skin as the owner struggled free. That is why Opossum has a two-colored tail today.

When lady-Deer heard of Hare’s adventures she laughed too much, and since he was such a clever and amusing animal she agreed to marry him. Since that time Deer, Hare and Opossum have been Leopard’s enemies.

Categories
Ethnic Origin

The Rise and Fall of Zolu Dumah

Gorn is a town in the Vai-Koneh chiefdom of Grand Cape Mount County; and in recent years, within the compass of four life-spans, a man called Zolu Dumah was Chief of the town of Gorn.

The task of protecting his people concerned Chief Zolu deeply, for although he had no serious rival and his lands were unmolested, yet hostile spears beyond his borders were as sands on a sandy shore.

All peoples from the Mano River to the Junk River were included in his chiefdom, and during his reign none of his people ever rebelled against him; but he was uneasy, and finally revised a plan to make the safety of his chiefdom doubly certain.

A Muslim priest, or Imam, was invited to appear before the Chief, and when he came the Chief demanded of him:

“Can you make magic to preserve my power? There are enemies about me, inside my borders and without, and they may do some evil thing against me. Can you make magic to prevent this thing?”

The Imam nodded thoughtfully. “O Chief, it can be done.”

“And can you make magic so that I may overpower any rival who appears? If you can do this, then I shall give you the greatest reward that any man can ask.”

The priest was pleased to hear this, but though eaten with desire to know what his reward might be he dared not ask. He nodded head again, and announced:

“O Chief, with my skill and knowledge I can do this thing.”

Chief Zolu smiled hugely when he heard this and praised himself in his own heart, saying : Indeed, I am the cleverest of chiefs, and for my cleverness my sons will rule a mighty kingdom. I will die with the blessings of my sons in my ears.

The priest went away, and being an ardent and capable exponent of his art he labored long and earnestly and succeeded in preparing the necessary magic; he wondered greatly what his fabulous reward might be. On the appointed day he took Chief Zolu deep into the forest, and stood him in a shallow basket such as is used to winnow grain, called a fanner.

Certain magic formulae which he uttered caused the fanner to rise up in the air to such a height that Chief Zolu could gaze across great distances of forest and fertile farmland, from river to river and from the mountains to the sea.

“O Chief,” the priest cried up to him, “know that you will rule, till the end of your days, over all the land which you have see; and hostile spears will lose their power to hurt you.”

On returning to the ground the Chief exulted at his fortune, praised the priest, and declared:

“O best of Imams, you have done a fine and loyal deed; for this you have my gratitude, and the devotion of my sons. But you must understand I fear you may do some such thing for another chief, and work me harm. Therefore I must kill you.”

He grasped his lance. The Imam proudly stood his ground, returning the Chief’s gaze steadily.

“O faithless Chief,” he said, “has all honor left you? Or have you forgotten that you promised me the greatest reward that man can ask?”

“The greatest reward that any man can ask,” the Chief replied, “is a sudden and clean death. What has gone before is lost; what comes ahead, unknown. A clean death is a painless birth into another life.”

The Imam bowed his head in grief and disappointment; but was both a brave and holy man, and craved a boon of the Chief.

“What is this boon?” the Chief demanded.

“O Chief, I wish to pray.”

“Then pray.”

The Imam prayed to Allah the All-Highest; he prayed that Zolu might die slowly, slowly, and that no son of his might ever be a chief.

Then Chief Zolu killed him.

And in truth no son of Zolu ever became a chief, and no chief has come out of Gorn since that day.

Categories
Folktales

The Land Where No Vultures Fly

Two vultures in the east heard of the fertile lands which are Liberia today, and decided they would come and settle here. They flew west and west and further west, over rivers and mountains and plains, and in time they arrived at a town in this country.

They sat in a tree at the edge of the town, craning their naked necks to see what manner of people lived below, and how such food they had.

The well-built housed and handsome fields suggested prosperity, and when they say a woman throw a dead chicken from her window they thought it must be a prosperous place indeed. They knew that people in other lands could never afford to waste food in that way.

But as they watched a man passed by, and seeing the chicken there he picked it up and put it in his bag; and this, to the two vultures, was an evil omen.

“This would be a bad place for us to live,” said the second bird. “People are too thrifty to waste scraps.”

The two vultures passed on further west. Such birds infest the lands on every side, but have never settled on Liberian soil. 

Categories
Folktales

How Dog Came to Live With Man

The animals of the forest agreed to hold a feast, and everyone was invited. Now, Leopard has always been the enemy of Dog, and on this occasion he bitterly objected to the idea of Dog being invited to the feast.

“Dog is an eater of dung,” he said. “A wicked and unclean animal. He has no manners, none at all, and will only shame himself if he dines in company with polite people.”

The other animals did not agree, and Dog was invited to attend the feast. When the food was ready and all the distinguished animals had assembled, Leopard slipped out to the kitchen and told the cooks not to give Dog a bone; for he knew that Dog loved bones.

When the food was served everyone was given a handsome bone packed in tender meat: everyone but Dog, who was given a bowl of soup. Dog supped hungrily at his soup, but every now and then he would pause to admire the bones the other animals had; and Leopard, knowing Dog’s weakness, went to sit beside him with a large and juicy bone.

Leopard made pleasant noises as he ate, and when he found Dog was watching he took the chance of publicly disgracing him. He threw his bone in the air. Dog leapt up to catch it. He stepped in various dishes of food, and when he had the bone he scrambled over Possum and Hare to run away and cat his bone alone. The assembled animals were surprised, but Leopard only shrugged and said:

“I told you so. Dog has no manners and has disgraced himself.”

Dog became a social outcast among the animals; they all avoided him, and his life grew so lonely that one day he left the forest and went to live with Man.

Categories
Folktales

The Death of Yarn-Mah

A beautiful little girl called Yarn-Mah lived with her mother in a poor village; the village was on a piece of land between swamps and the thick dark forest.

Yarn-Mah’s mother became old, and she could no longer paddle her canoe and throw the fishing net as she did in her younger days; so she taught Yarn-Mah how to paddle and how to throw the tummah net so cleverly that no fish beneath it could escape.

At some distance from the village was a clear stream where the largest kind of fish could be seen, but people were forbidden to fish there for that part of the land was owned by a devil who devoured humans.

“My daughter,” said Yarn-Mah’s mother, “even before you were born many women were eaten by the devil who lives in the clear stream. The waters there are rich with fish — but if you take one you will die, and if your foot event enters the water there you will never be seen again.

Yarn-Mah promised she would never go there. She would go fishing everywhere else, but never in the clear stream. But one day she searched everywhere for fish without success, and wandering near the clear stream she saw shoals of beautiful blue an black and silver fish there.

No one was about; there was no devil to be seen, and the waters looked quiet and peaceful. She could not resist the temptation to cast her net among them, and her clever net trapped many. Bare legged and breathless with excitement she entered the stream to get more. She was almost in the middle of the stream when the water began to rise. It reached her thighs, then her waist.

Quickly she left her net and tried to wade ashore, but the water rose quickly to her breast, and then her shoulders. Looking up she saw a bat fluttering about in the evening sky, and she felt very sad and lonely now that she knew she must die out here in the swamp. She began to sing to the bat:

“Bat, on your travels tonight, visit my village. Tell my mother you saw me here.”

The water rose to her chin, to her lips, but she sang on:

“Tell her you saw me, and that I said farewell. Her good advice slipped from my foolish head.”

The water covered her face and rose above her head, and thus for her disobedience beautiful little Yarn-Mah died.

Categories
Folktales

The Wrath of Sande-Nyana

Three brothers who were hunters lived in a village near Piso Lake, and their names were Khamah, Voanii, and Zuke.

Early one morning they went into the forest to hunt, taking spears and a little food, and they walked to a distant part of the forest where they had never been before. Here they found a sacred shrine, long abandoned, and lying within the shrine was a bag of gold.

“It is the shrine of Sande-Nyana,” Khamah whispered fearfully, and glanced about. Sande-Nyana was the women’s devil-god, dangerous and cruel.

“He is not here,” said Voanii. “The shrine is old, there is no longer any village here.” But Voanii was nervous too, for Sande-Nyana would kill them if he saw them standing there.

“It is gold, real gold,” murmured Zuke as his eyes stared greedily at the yellow pieces. “Just let us feel it . . .”

Finally they took one coin, and Khamah said to Zuke, the youngest brother:

“Take this piece of gold and buy wine at the nearest village. We will wait under this cotton tree.”

Zuke set off towards a village some distance away, and here he purchased a large calabash gourd of palm wine: but, planning to take possession of all the gold himself, he added poison to the wine before returning.

In his absence Khamah and Voanii talked earnestly together. They decided to kill Zuke and share the gold between themselves; so, when he returned and placed the wine-gourd on the ground, they fell on him with their spears and killed him instantly.

But when they drank the poisoned wine, Khamah and Voanii also died, so that the three wicked brothers lay and rotted together under the cotton tree.

The bag of gold still lies within Sande-Nyana’s shrine.