Category: Folktales

Categories
Folktales

Spider, Leopard, and Lightning Bug

Leopard is fond of fish, and once he build a water fence cross a stream and set fish traps therein. With this simple but clever device he caught many fish, and hunger was a stranger to his house. It happened that Spider heard of this, and one night he called on Lightning Bug.

“I know of a place,” he said, “where we can find many fish, and easily, but they must be caught at night. Therefore bring your light, and let us go.”

Lightning Bug agreed to this, and they went to the water fence.
“These are Leopard’s traps,” said Lightning Bug.

“Fish belong to those who find them,” Spider answered.

They collected all the fish and went away; but Spider, being greedy, gave very few to Lightning Bug. Each night for a week they went to the traps, and finally there came a night when Spider decided to keep all the fish for himself.

Lightning Bug protested, but Spider held to his decision; therefore the little fly resolved to teach some manners to his greedy friend. With his light he led him to Leopard’s house, and Spider, thinking it was his own, walked through the door and said:

“O wife, here are some more of Leopard’s fish.”

Then he saw Leopard sitting by the fire, staring at him with big eyes; and Leopardess lying on the bed, staring at him with big eyes; and the two young leopards, who had ceased their playing and were staring at him with small-big eyes. Leopard rose to his feet and cleared his throat.

“So you are the thief!” he growled. Spider trembled with fear, and dropped the fish. He moved quietly towards the door, and Leopard sprang. He missed his mark, and Spider scurried out of the house and fled into the night: and not daring to go home went far into the forest and made a house of banana leaves. He lived in the forest for some time, and one day Leopard chanced to find the house. He looked carefully at the leaves, walked twice around the house, and sniffed inside it. No one was at home.

“It must be Spider’s home,” he said. “Fat, lazy, thieving Spider. I will wait for him. We shall have a talk.” He crept inside the house and waited for Spider to return. But Spider saw the marks of Leopard’s feet, and noticed that the marks led into his banana-leaf house and did not come out again. He thought that Leopard might be waiting inside for him, so he went a little way off and cried out:
“Ho, my banana-leaf house!”

There was, of course, no answer.

“Ho, my banana-leaf house!”

Spider waited a little while, and then remarked quite loudly:
“Here is a strange thing. Every day when I come home I call to my little house, and it answers me. But today it does not answer. Can it be because some enemy is inside? I will try again. . . Ho, my banana-leaf house!”

Leopard cleared his throat and tried to say in a banana-leaf voice:
“Ho, Spider, welcome home!”

Spider laughed and laughed, for now he knew for certain that Leopard was in his house.

“Just sit there, foolish Leopard,” he called out. He ran far, far away until he came to the house of Man: and since Leopard could not come here he crept inside and there he lived, and still lives to this day.

Categories
Folktales

Why Bridges are Built in Secret

Long before white men were known in the land there lived a woman by the name of Sagba Massa. Sagba possessed a certain magic ring which she always wore on her hand; with this ring she could summon and control the power of spirits and forest evils, and her clan, when she ruled, prospered accordingly. Her lands yielded abundant crops, rain fell when rain was needed, and evil beings who walked in the night left her people alone.

The Chief of Sagba’s people, a wise old man called Mana Kpaka, sent messages through the land requiring lesser chiefs and clan leaders to assemble at his town for a conference concerning their welfare.

Sagba Massa set out on her journey to this town, and on the way she was obliged to cross the Yaajah River. While crossing in a canoe she saw a beautiful woman sitting on a rock, and wondered who she was. A moment later the woman disappeared, and Sagba, whose had was trailing lightly on the water, suddenly felt her magic ring drawn gently from her finger.

She cried out in alarm and peered down into the shining water, but saw nothing there. The beautiful woman who sat on the rock had been a river spirit, and doubtless it was she who had stolen the precious ring. Sagba made camp on the river bank and called up her best diviners to discover what she must do: the diviners read their sands and gave her their advice.

Three men were brought from distant places. One of them had power over water. The second had power over light and could see into the very hearts of mountains. The third had power over earth, and could crush the biggest rocks to powder in his hands. Sagba Massa paid them well and commanded them to find her ring.

The first man tipped the river on its side.

The second man saw the ring hidden within a rock which lay in the river bed.

The third man lifted the rock and broke it, and having found the ring he gave it back to Sagba. She went to the conference called by Mana Kpaka, and when returning she decided to build a bridge across the Yaajah River, a bridge which would nowhere touch the water.

With the aid of her ring a number of spirits were summoned, and they were told to build a bridge from bank to bank in such a way that men who crossed might be beyond the reach of mischievous river spirits. The spirits said they would work by night, but men must work by day. Trusted men were called upon to build the bridge by day; and the spirits threw building medicine on shore so that they would build well and make no error.

The spirits selected two large trees on opposite banks, and swung stout lines of cane and vines across the river from tree to tree; but they only worked by night when no one was about. The men used secret knots and the cunning of their medicine to weave a slender foot-walk between the hanging lines; they only worked by day, and no man who was not one of them was permitted to be there.

Thus the first suspension bridge was build, and now the manner of this work is a closely guarded secret handed on from father to son. The secret is only known to spirits and selected groups of men, and anyone else who tries to watch is killed.

Categories
Folktales

How the King of Monkeys Became Their Slave

When the world was made all the various kinds of animals had their kings, but the monkeys were so foolish and disobedient that Skygod gave them a special king called Quilpu-nine.

Quilpu-nine was a bird with gray hair on his head: Skygod placed him in a hole in the ground where nobody could see him.

The monkey-people were afraid of the Thing-in-the-hole-in-the-ground; since no one had ever seen it and its voice was so loud and harsh, it was thought to be some powerful devil-god and all the monkeys respected and obeyed him.

It was the custom of those times for the animals to render tribute to their kings, bring their best food to them and honoring them with gifts; so Quilpu-nine lived well, growing sleek and fat on nuts and succulent fruits and the choicest of forest fare.

But there came a time of famine in the forest, and although many monkey-people tried to bring rich foods to Quilpu-nine as usual, they found this increasingly difficult to do.

In time the gray-haired bird came to feel the famine too, and one day when the older monkeys were away searching for last season’s nuts and withered fruit he came forth from his hole and stole the little food the monkey-children had.

When the monkey-fathers and monkey-mothers came back to their homes and children they were astonished to learn that their king was merely a gray-haired bird: they pulled him from his hole, and he was obliged to be their slave. One can often hear the monkey-people laughing in the forest, and that is because they still remember that a gray-haired bird called Quilpu-nine was formerly their king.

Categories
Folktales

The Desmode and the Deer

Deer had her home in a pleasant forest glade close to a tall Desmode, or Dicot tree. No grass grew near the Desmode, and the ground there was quite bare; one day Deer saw that her tracks were plainly visible on this bare ground, and fearing a hunter might notice them she said to the Desmode:

“Good friend, please cover my tracks with your leaves.”

The Desmode refused to do this.

“I beg you, cover my tracks. Some hunter may see them there and know this place to be my home, and so kill me.”

“Whether you live or die is no concern of mine,” the Desmode said.

“Then so be it, “ the Deer exclaimed. “But that thing which kills me will kill you too.”

“You are foolish, Deer,” said an Oweh bush nearby, “and your life is shadowed by foolish fears. No hunter will come here.”

“Men eat animals,” Deer protested, “and they also cut down trees. If my tracks betray us all, then don’t blame me.”

Some days later a hunter discovered the tracks of Deer, and he saw that she walked often, and slept, close to the Desmode. He waited in hiding, and killed Deer when she came, then carried the meat and the skin back to his town. The Chief there said:

“That is a very fine skin you have. Let a tree be cut, and we will make a drum.”

“O Chief,” the hunter said, “there is a Desmode at the place where I killed the deer, and the wood of a Desmode is fine for making drums.”

“Such wood holds a pleasant tone,” the chief agreed. “Then let this Desmode be cut.” Woodsmen went to cut the Desmode tree, and noticed the Oweh bush nearby. They said:

“We also must have resin to rub on the skin of the drum. Let us take this Oweh bush, for the resin it has is good.”

The Oweh bush was also cut and taken to town with the Desmode. The drum was made, using the skin of Deer, the wood of Desmode, and the rosin of Oweh bush. Deer quarreled with Desmode and Oweh abused them both: and when the drum was beaten the echoes of their quarrel filled the air.

Categories
Folktales

Why Chickens Scratch

Yala the Lion was king of the animals in the time when all animals lived together in peace. During a time of great famine when everyone was starving, Yala decreed that the bodies of those who died should be cooked and eaten by the living, in order that the living might survive.

Grandmother Chicken was the first to die, and the chickens mourned her passing but looked forward to the feast. The body of Grandmother Chicken was cooked by the other animals, and since her body was so small a quantity of corn husks was added to the meat.

Believing that the chicken family might not care to see the meat of their ancestor on top of their food, the animals carefully covered the chickens’ share with a liberal pile of husks before giving it to them.

The chickens took their share, and wondered why their bowl was full of husks: they could see no meat. For a little time they pecked at the husks, pausing often to glance at the gravy and meat the animals had, and finally in disgust they gave their bowl to Jackal.

Jackal knew where the meat was: he scratched away the husks and ate the richer fare he found beneath, while the chickens watched amazed.

Ever since that day all chickens have taught their children to search beneath everything they eat, telling them that the best things of life are often well concealed.

Categories
Ethnic Origin

Origin of the Dey

According to legend, a man called Baa Gaa Volen Bili was the father of the Deys; he had two sons, Baa Gaa Gao and Baa Fai. Baa Fai was the first Propro Kan of Gawlon, or the original grand Master of the Dey degree of Poro.

These ancestors lived on Bilisue, or Cat Mountain, which is today Maban Point on Cape Montserrado; it is said that wild cats lived in this region until twenty years ago.

Baa Fai had a son called Baa Jiiwa, who went to Gawen and founded Dian Town; the place he settled in is known as Dian Kambele. The Maban, a Bassa people on the eastern side of Monrovia, also originated on Cat Mountain.

This legend, which locates the Dey’s place of origin as being on the very coast, suggests that they and other members of the same maritime linguistic group came to the Grain Coast by a water route.

The Dey have well-formulated fishing methods and are related to the Kru, Bassa and the Grebo peoples by language: they are thought to be a western extension of the Kru group. They Dey have been on the coast for several hundred years, but the date of their arrival is uncertain.

Development of salt manufacture by the Dey brought them power, wealth, and a series of wars with neighboring groups, particularly the Gola. As a result of warfare and intermarriage with such groups the Dey have lost much of their original strength and identity, but those who remain are vigorous and progressive and have learned to reap their harvests on land as well as from the son.

The late Elder Bala Setuma, a renowned leader of the Bolon Society, once summed up his philosophy of religion in this manner:

“Koon mae bolo men ji ko se kpela bele?”

“Has a belief ever came to a people who were not non-believers?”

That is, any religion finds fertile ground in a land which lacks religion. In this he alluded to Christianity and Islam, the only two great religions with which he was familiar. Either of these two religions, he asserted, might be right; and perhaps both were wrong.

God, whose existence Bala Setuma did not doubt, had his own standards by which to judge the merits of such religions; but the standards he used were wrapped in mystery and speculation, and in their arrogance with Christians and Moslems interpreted their own standards as being those of God.

God might consider the Christians were wrong, or the Moslems wrong, or both; and if he, Bala Setuma, subscribed to one of those religions he might identify himself with a lost cause.

Therefore he preferred to be neutral, locking to his own heart to find what truth he could; and he was prepared to be judged accordingly.

Categories
Folktales

How Hare Asked God for Wisdom

Hare went to god to ask for Wisdom.

“I am a small animal,” he said, “and in the forest are many animals larger and stronger and fiercer than I. Therefore I must have wisdom if I am to survive, and I beg you for this gift.”

“I will see to it,” said God; “but you must do three things. The first thing you must do is to bring me two of leopard’s teeth dripping with blood.”

“I will try to do this,” said Hare, and he hurried off wondering how this thing might be done. He invited Leopard to dinner that night, and late in the evening when Leopard yawned Hare said:

“You have very beautiful teeth, Leopard. No other animal has teeth so long and strong and white as yours.”

Being vain, Leopard opened his mouth even wider, and as he did so Hare picked up a club and hit Leopard in the mouth. Two teeth fell out. Hare snatched them up and ran away before poor Leopard could recover; he went back to God and gave Him the two teeth, dripping with Leopard’s blood.

“Only a wise man can take two teeth from a living leopard,” God declared. “The second thing you must do is to bring me the most poisonous snake in the forest.

Hare hurried off wondering how he could capture the most poisonous snake in the forest. He cut a long straight stick and put marks on it, then went around the forest measuring animals. Some of the animals thought he must be a little mad, but he did not mind. The most poisonous snake in the forest saw him doing this and asked:

“What are you doing, Hare?”

“I am measuring all the animals. God has asked me to find out who is the longest animal in the forest.”

“I think I am the longest. Measure me.”

Hare placed his stick beside Snake. He tied Snake to the stick at each end and in the middle, and said:

“You are the longest animal, Snake. I will take you to see God,” He carried him to God.

“Well done, Hare,” said God. “Only a wise man could have brought me the most poisonous snake in the forest. Now you must bring all the little birds. That is your last task.”

Hare built a strong cage and went to the little birds.

“Snake says he is going to eat you all tonight,” he said.

“I have made you a strong house. Sleep in there, and you will be safe.”

The little birds believed him, and fearing Snake they all slept in the cage that night. Hare closed the door and took the little birds to God. God smiled.

“Hare, any one who has as much wisdom as you have needs no more. Therefore go back to your place, and never ask for wisdom again.”
Hare had been too clever, as people sometimes are.

Categories
Folktales

The Deadly Oracle

The Chief of the land was Ozeky, and his daughter was the wisest of all women. Her name was Tua, and she knew all things and such as the breadth of her wisdom that she became an oracle. The Chief announced that any man who asked a question which she could not answer would be given half the chiefdom; but if the question was well answered he would die.

By river in this land a woman lived with her three sons; they were poor, and rarely had enough to eat. The oldest of the three sons said:

“Mother, I go to win half Chief Okaku’s chiefdom; I shall ask Tua such a question as even she can never answer.”

“My son,” she said, “think well before you go. Wiser men than you have died already.”

But he went. He said to Tua:

“What causes Nefegboi, the yard snake, to bite a man?” The meaning of this was: What is the common cause of a man’s misfortune? Tua answered him:

“Because Nyimi, the black snake, hangs something on that man’s throat.” This meant: Because a man is often betrayed the loose tongue of a friend.

The oldest of the three sons died. The second son them came and said:

“Before God we are fools. What causes the vanity of men?”

Tua answered him:

“Tintala the cricket depends on heat to give a Bolon cry, and all heat comes from God.” The Bolon cry is a signal used by the Bore Society; and the answer meant: Men depend on emotion when they boast and man’s emotions are made by God. The question had been answered and the second son died.

The youngest of the three sons then begged his mother that he might go to Tua, but she would not let him go.

“If you want to be killed I would rather see you die before my eyes,” she said, “thank think of you lying dead in a distant place.”

He begged her day and night for permission to go to Tua, and after man weeks she grew weary and resigned to his early death.

“If you must go, my only so in, then go, but unwillingly I say it. Your brothers have died and so will you, and there will be nothing left.”

She made dough from crushed corn and cooked it with strong poison, and gave it to him for food along the way; for she would rather bury him herself than have him die in a distant place. The young man set out with his dog, and when he came to the river nearby he sat down to wait for the ferry-canoe to come. He took out the corn cake and gave a piece to his do. The dog ate, and died.

“Dead?” the young man muttered. “Is this an omen? It would seem to be an evil one.”

He put the dog in the river. An eagle flew down and alighted on the bloating body. Bird and dog drifted down the river out of sight. The young man went to Tua, and he said:

“Dough killed dog, and the dead carried the living. What does this mean?

Tua considered the question for three days, and could find no answer. The third son lived, for the death of his dog had saved him. Chief Ozeky gave him half his lands, and he mourned his brothers but lived in peace and plenty with his mother until she died.

Categories
Folktales

How a Fisher Boy Became a Chief

A fisherman called Nagu lived near the sea with his wife, and they had a son called Bai. Bai was their only child and they loved him with all their hearts.

When Hungry Season came Nagu went forth each day to fish in the sea from his canoe, for at this time there was little food to be had on land. There came a time when he fished for many days and caught no fish, and his family was starving; but once he knew not other trade he kept on fishing, hoping that his luck would change.

One weary day when he had fished for many hours in vain he began quietly weeping. A mermaid swam close to his canoe.

“I have heard you weeping,” she said. “What is your sorrow?”

“Bad luck is with me, and my family starves,” said Nagu. He was not at all surprised to see a mermaid. He would have been astonished if she had been a fine fat fish.

“What will you give me if I change your luck?” she asked.

“Anything you want.”

“Will you give me the first creature who comes to meet you when you reach the shore tonight?”

“That will be my little dog,” Nagu thought to himself. The dog always ran barking down the beach to greet him. He was fond of the animal.

“Well, he said reluctantly, “I will do that.”

The mermaid disappeared, and thereafter every time Nagu cast his net he snared a multitude of fish so that his canoe was soon quite full. He rejoiced and set out for him home, and when he drew close to the beach his son came down to meet him. Bai, his only son. Nagu remember his promise to the mermaid, and his heart was sick with despair. That night when his family was feasting happily he could not hide his grief, and was obliged to tell them of the promise which he had given in return for the load of fish.

“If you go to the mermaid, son,” he said, “she will destroy you.”
“Then I will leave the coast,” Bai said. “I will go out into the world and se what fortune life holds for me.”

“My blessing goes with you, my son. Be careful crossing water, for the mermaid will not rest until she gets you.”

Bai set out into the world next morning. He traveled far. Whether than cross broad rivers he kept among the mountains, where the rivers are young and clear and hold no secrets. In the high place he came upon an eagle, an ant and a lion who were quarreling over the body of a deer. They saw Bai and said to him:

“Man, please divide this deer for us. We can reach no agreement.” Bai gave the red meat to Lion, the offal to Eagle and the bones with their sweet marrow he gave to ant; and the three of them were pleased.

“You are good,” said Lion. “Take this claw of mine. If you should ever find yourself in danger just say ‘from a man to a lion,’ and you will become an eagle.”

“You are kind,” said ant. “Take my blessing. If you ever wish to be a small, small thing just say ‘from a man to an ant,’ and you will become an ant.”

Bai traveled on until he came to a fair country, and here he entered the service of the Chief as a herdsman. In this land there dwelt a monster, and the only way to keep it from destroying towns and crops was for the Chief to give one of his children to the monster every month. No mere man could kill the monster, and the people of that land now lived in fear, for the Chief had but one child left. She was the best and most beautiful of his daughters, and as she was his favorite he had kept her while he could.

Bai changed into an ant. He drew close to the monster and asked:

“Mighty monster, is it true that no man can kill you?”

The proud creature laughed. “Who wants to kill me must climb Garto Mountain and kill a lion, when catch the eagle there, and bring the eagle’s egg and burst it on my head.”

Bai went away and considered this: and when he saw the Chief’s only remaining child was the most beautiful young maiden he had ever seen, he made up his mind. That night he entered her room as an ant and then resumed his normal form. She was astonished to see him there, but since he was a handsome youth with gentle manners she was not alarmed.

“Why have you come?” she asked. “My father must not see you here, or he will kill you!”

As he gazed upon her beauty he fell more and more in love; and she, in turn, was drawn strongly to him.

“Next month you must die,” he said, “Unless the monster is somehow killed; and I possess a secret whereby he may be killed. Give me strength to do the things which must be done.”

“How shall I give you strength?”

“Give me your love, and I shall not fail.”

She looked into his eyes, and was content with what she saw. She rose and went to him. “I give you my love,” she said. “Be strong, be brave; I know you will not fail.”

In the morning Bai changed to an eagle and flew to the summit of Garto Mountain; and there he changed into a lion. He met a lion there, and they fought; and after several hours of savage, snarling battle Bai found that he had won. He rested for a while and bathed his wounds; then he changed into an eagle and flew into the sky to fight the eagle he saw there. Three times this eagle better him to earth; each time Bai remembered the love which the daughter of the Chief had given him, and found it cried out:

“Ho, monster! I come from Garto Mountain, where I took an egg from the belly of an eagle, and now I am about to throw it on your head!”

The monster ran round and round in the forest trying to escape, but Bai dropped the egg on his head and destroyed him.

Bai wedded the Chief’s daughter and inherited rich lands, and sent for his own parents to come and live with him. But the mermaid still searches for him, and this is why sometimes a handsome lad who goes to sea in his canoe does not return.

Categories
Folktales

The Forest Can Talk

Two hunters went into the forest one night with spears, and a burning branch to give them light. They went to a place where animals came at night to drink, hid themselves in bushes and put out their fire stick. They held their spears in readiness and listened intently. In a little while they heard an animal say:

“I smell hot charcoal.”

“You’re always smelling something,” said another.

The two hunters flung their spears in the direction of the voices:

But when they looked they found they had only spared two trees. They marveled that this be – for surely it had not been the two trees which they heard talking.

They heard the voice again, as soft as a baby’s sigh:

“If you listen, you can hear the forest talk.”

And of course you can.

Categories
Folktales

The Antbag and the Hunter

There is a little animal called Antbag who lives in the palm-nut tree. It has a long tail and a round body, and rolls up into a tight round ball when an enemy approaches.

One day a hunter went out to hunt meat, and he took his hunting dog with him. The dog had bells tied around his neck and the ringing of the bells would show which way the dog was running in the forest: for the hunter was a suspicious man, and did not trust his dog.

When the dog spied the Antbag up in the tree he barked and barked and rang his bells, calling to his master; and the Antbag became afraid and rolled itself up into a ball. when the hunter came he glanced up into the tree but could not see an animal, for the Antbag looked like a bunch of nuts; and he scolded the dog, called it a fool, and went to hung in another place.

But the dog continued barking, and another hunter came; this second hunter gazed long and carefully into the tree, then saw the Antbag there and shot it. He gave the dog his share and went away; and the dog rejoined his hungry master with a belly-full of meat.

Senseless men will often scorn the sense of faithful friends.

Categories
Folktales

The Terrible End of Catfish

Catfish and Rice Bird were once firm friends. One day Rice Bird said:

“I just saw a farmer cut a hole in the top of a palm wine tree, to catch wine in a bowl. Let us go and steal some.”

“It would be nice,” Catfish agreed, “I am tired of always drinking the same old thing. But you know I cannot fly.”

“I will lend you feathers,” Rice Bird said.

He gave Catfish almost half his feathers, and they managed to fly up to the top of the wine palm, where they drank wine. Then Catfish returned to the river, and gave Rice Bird back his feathers. Thereafter they would fly up to the palm and drink whenever they wished.

There came a time when they drank too much. They became very, very drunk, so drunk that they could hardly move, and while they were lying in the bowl the owner of the wine came. He began to climb the tree.

Catfish and Rice Bird stopped their singing and listened. The farmer climbed closer. They became scared. Rice Bird knew that he could not fly now with only half his feathers, for he was too foolish and full of wine: so he pulled his feathers from Catfish, despite the tearful protests of his friend, and managed to flutter away.

Poor Catfish lay there helplessly in the bowl, sobbing and sobbing. The farmer found him there, and was so astonished to find a fish in his wine bowl at the top of a palm that he almost fell down again. But eventually he just shrugged, carried Catfish home and put him in a pot to cook.

As Catfish was cooking he sadly sang a song: “Sometimes a friend does not intend to help one faithfully. Those with such friends will meet their ends and terrible ends they’ll be.