Category: Folktales

There was a time when Bat had no wings, and he was considered one of the most beautiful of all animals. He was a small creature who walked on the ground and climbed trees, and for many years he was content to live like this; but when he experienced the misfortunes of life common to all people he became dissatisfied.

When Hungry Season came and he could not find enough to eat he began feeling sorry for himself.

“I wish I had wings.” he thought. “It must be nice to be a bird.” But then he reflected that birds also had their misfortunes, and decided he would like to be both bird and animal. He went to God and asked for wings, and God gave them to him.

From that time Bat flew in the air like a bird; when Hungry Season came to animals he would live with the birds, and when Hungry Season came to the birds he would live with the animals. Bat was quite content with this existence, but finally he died, as people will.

When his death was known, the birds came to claim his body and bury it in the proper place with honor; for, knowing Bat had wings they presumed he was a bird. But then they saw he had the body of an animal, and teeth like a Rat, and fur instead of feathers; so they decided he was not a bird and refused to bury him.

The animals came to take Bat’s body and bury it with reverence, thinking he was an animal; but when they saw that he had wings they thought he was a bird, since only birds have wings — and they, too, refused to bury him.

So Bat’s body lay neglected in the forest until it slowly disappeared; Bat was never buried, and none of his descendants were ever given graves.

Which is what may happen to one who is discontented with the life that God has given him.

A certain town was infested with serpents of every size and color, and they lived by eating the people of that town, and the children.

The serpents dwelt in holes in the ground and also in the thatched roofs of the houses; during the day they crawled from their holes and hunted children, and by night they dropped from ceilings onto sleeping men and women.

In this fashion many people were devoured, and the townsfolk lived in terror of their lives.

In those days the hearts of men were soft, and few cared to hurt a living thing; only women and animals had learned cruelty. But there came a time when the people grew weary of the serpents, and they called in a powerful medicine man to rid the town of them.

The medicine man was Tagboh Walakpu, a famous man, and he brought with him several followers skilled in killing spirits, devils, djinn and common monsters. He entered the town from the east, and his followers played such sweet music on stringed instruments that serpents issued forth from holes and housetops to sway and dance about the streets.

Walakpu walked among them blowing his medicine horn, and whenever he did this every serpent near him died.

Only one escaped. This was an elderly serpent filled with the cunning of its years, and called Wulu. He fled from Walakpu, and finding a woman cooking soap he said to her:

“A medicine man has come and is killing all my kin; hide me, and I will do you good.”

The woman was afraid of him.

“Be not afraid. Hide me in a secret place, and I will make you rich and bring you bowls of happiness. I will not harm you.”
At length the woman agreed to hide him, and made Wulu crawl into her box, or behind a pot, or under a fishing net; but this he refused to do.

“Walakpu would find me in such places. You must put me in your stomach.”

He persuaded the woman to open her mouth and he crawled into her stomach. Walakpu passed by blowing his medicine horn, but Wulu was unharmed; and when the medicine man had gone the woman asked Wulu to come forth from her stomach, for she had work to do.

“If you do not stop talking,” Wulu said, “I shall eat your tongue.”

“What is this? You promised to give me happiness if I saved you.”

“Words are dead when they are spoken. Be quiet!”

A nearby crew happened to overhear this conversation, and he asked the woman to explain what he had heard. When she began to talk the serpent said:

“If you tell anything to Crow I’ll sink my fangs into your heart. be quiet, woman!” “Ah,” said Crew, “I heard that.” He then asked Wulu: “Since this woman has helped you when you needed help, should you not be grateful?”

“Gratitude is weakness,” said the serpent.

“Gratitude is wisdom,” Crow declared, “and has three eyes, like me.”

“You have three eyes?”

“Of course I have three eyes, as you can see.”

“I have never seen a three-eyed bird.” Wulu crawled up the woman’s throat and put his head outside her mouth that he might look at Crow.

Crow seized him is his beck and pulled him forth. He carried Wulu high in the air, then dropped him on the ground and broke his back. The woman was overjoyed, and brought rice for Crow to cat: but even as he ate she laid hands on him, saying:

“I must make a sacrifice on my children’s graves. I will put your blood in their graves.”

Crow protested loudly, and an old man came. This old man had a black hen which he loved. He asked the woman:

“Since Crow helped you when you needed help, should you not be grateful?”

“Gratitude is foolishness,” the woman said.

“Gratitude is God’s best gift to men, but it seems that women have none. I will give you my black hen if you will let Crow go.”

The woman agreed to this. As Crow flew off he snatched one eye from the poor old man and crushed it in his beak and swallowed it.

“Gratitude is an egg without a shell,” he cried, “or an eye without a head… soft, and easily wounded. the first armor anyone must have is a shell about his heart, or he will suffer.”

From a serpent, a woman and a crow men learned to harden their soft hearts.

When Hungry Season came Spider went to Snake’s town and begged for food. He knew that Snake had gathered a fine harvest of yams that year, and now Spider said to him:

“Snake, please give me yams to help my family in this time of hunger. For every yam you give me I shall give you two in return when my fields are full.”

“Then you may have as many as you need,” Snake said, and Spider took as many as he could carry. He and his family fed on yams throughout the Hungry Season, then once again the fields were full and men and animals went forth to harvest crops.

Snake came one day to Spider for his yams; and when Spider saw him coming he made a plan. There was meat hanging in his house, and when Snake came inside Spider was careful to let him see the meat.

“That is fine meat you have,” Snake remarked. “I hope you will give me some, as well as your yams.”

“Well, I may give you a little,” said Spider, “but wait till I return. I am going outside.”

He went outside. He climbed up on the roof, let down rope through a hole and caused it to fasten about the meat. He pulls up the meat and hid it, then climbed down to the ground. He found his wife talking with Tortoise.

“Come in,” he said. “Snake is here. Let us have something to eat.”

Spider, his wife and Tortoise went inside and met Snake waiting there.

“We are going to cook food to eat,” said Spider, and began looking for the meat. It was not there. “Where is the meat?” he asked his wife. “Have you put it in another place?”

“I have not touched it.”

“Tortoise? Did you take my meat?”

“I am not a thief, like some other people whose names I will not mention,” said Tortoise rather coldly. Spider turned to Snake.

“I think you have taken the meat, Snake. It was here when I left the house. And so were you, and you were looking at it.”
Snake said he was innocent. Spider became thoughtful.

“I have a certain magic knife which possesses magic powers,” he said. “It will soon discover who the guilty person is. All of you lay your necks upon this log; if you are not guilty no harm will come to you, but if one of you is the thief then he will die.”

Spider’s wife obeyed. He ran the blunt edge of the knife across her neck, and she rose unharmed. Tortoise lay his neck across the log, although he protested at such foolishness, and he also was unharmed by the knife.

Snake’s turn came. Spider now used the sharp edge of the knife and cut Snake’s head off. Snake wriggled and writhed on the ground as he died, and turned his stomach upwards so that everyone might see his flat and empty belly and know his innocence.

Since that time all snakes have died with their stomachs turned upwards, to remind the world that they were once considered honorable people.

Djinn and his wife had their home among the mountains in the High Forests, and they would permit no man to come there unless he was one of their family.

Djinn was a fine hunter and had a quiver filled with poisoned arrows, but he did not hunt in the fashion common to mankind. If he chanced to see monkeys in a tree he would merely shoot at the tree, and soon enough the monkeys would be poisoned and fall down.

Anything that Djinn shot at always fell, and thus he was the most famous hunter in the land.

When his wife was expecting a child Djinn went out to hunt more frequently, that she might have the delicacies which the child in her desired; but so skillful was his hunting that animals were now difficult to find.

One day he searched the forest from early morning until dusk, and found no meat at all; and as night was falling he came upon a man who had a deer. He politely asked the man for a little of the meat, but the man refused and went his way. Djinn went home empty-handed to his wife.

“Did you find nothing at all today?” she asked.

“Nothing at all,” he said. “The forest is empty.”

“Did you not even meet someone with meat?”

“Only a man with a deer, and he would give me nothing.”

His wife was vexed.

“I believe you are not so clever as you used to be,” she said.

“In other days you would not have left a whole deer to one greedy man when your family was hungry, and come home empty-handed.”

Djinn considered this. Next morning he tracked the hunter to his town, and when he arrived he asked for the man who had killed a deer the day before. Djinn was such a small fellow that no one took any notice of him, so he began smelling and sniffing from house to house and finally found the one he sought. He knocked on the door, and when the hunter came out Djinn attacked him.

People were surprised to see this small Djinn attacking the town hunter, but when the hunter was overpowered and tied up in a hamper they became alarmed. As Djinn carried the hamper out of town spears and arrows followed him, but all were turned aside and Djinn escaped.

The town hunter was never seen again. Thereafter Djinns were feared and respected by the people, and whenever a hunter meets one he will give him half his meat.

At the beginning of the world God made three men; he sent them to live on earth, and they dwelt in three different places. One man became a hunter, the second was a traveler, and the third settled on good land and began a farm.

After a time God summoned the three men to him, and said he would grant each of them one gift. He asked them what they wanted.

The hunter said he wished to have a dog to help him hunt. The traveler wanted a horse. The farmer said he was lonely living by himself, and asked for a woman to keep his company and help him with his work. God granted these three gifts and the men returned to their homes.

The traveler rode his horse to many distant places and was quite often happy; and yet he felt his life was not complete. The hunter lived in the forest and hunted with his dog, and he also knew a measure of happiness — but he wondered why he sometimes felt sad and discontented. Both of these men decided to visit the farmer, who lived with his women in a fertile place.

The hunter went with his dog, and the traveler rode his horse. They found the farmer at his home, living contentedly with his wife and two baby children who were his greatest treasures.

The two visitors saw that the woman brought water, cut wood, cooked food and cared for the home and was always good and gentle; they realized too that with his family at his side the farmer was never lonely, and sadness was a stranger to his house.

They admired the farmer’s woman and small children, and knew they would also have to have such things if their lives were to be rich and filled with joy.

The hunter and the traveler went to God, and asked him to take the dog and the horse and give them women instead. God changed the two beasts into woman, so that the two men each had a wife.

The farmer’s wife was a peaceful woman of good heart and with a will to work; she was the mother of all such women in the world.

The woman who came from the horse was greedy, willful, and could not be trusted; and she was the mother of all such women in the world today.

The woman who came from the dog was spiteful, noisy and always making palaver; and she let strange men follow her about. She was the mother of all such women in the world today.

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.

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.

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.