“How the Squirrel won a Verdict for the Gazelle.”

As soon as the funeral festivities were over, our many visitors returned to their towns and villages, and I soon became interested in the normal life of the natives. Our town was not very large, and its houses were not in regular streets. A person would build to suit his own convenience, and in walking from one side of the town to the other you were obliged to wind in and out among the houses. As a rule there was plenty of space between the huts, but here and there they were crowded together and surrounded by grass fences. These enclosed places belonged to the chief and his head men.

The houses were built with grass walls and roofs, all the work being very neatly done. When new they were rain-proof, but very draughty. The walls were only four feet six inches high, and the ridge-pole was about seven feet above the ground. The people cooked their food, ate it, and sat outside their houses. In the open air they held their receptions, their social meetings, their palavers, their courts of justice, and every other town and domestic function. The houses were simply for sleeping, for storing their goods, and for sitting in on cold, windy, stormy days. There was no privacy about the native manner of living, but everybody knew everything about everybody else, and a little more besides.

A great number of charms and fetishes were to be found in the town, and it seemed as though they had a charm for every imaginable circumstance of life. One man possessed a charm to protect his goods, and another had a charm to help him steal successfully; one owned a charm to bring him good luck in trading, and another wore a charm to aid him in cheating on the markets the folk with whom he traded. One man whom I saw had a charm to render him invisible that he might, unseen, hear conversations, and enter forbidden places to his own advantage; and many had bought charms to keep evil spirits from jumping down their throats.

My owner, Bakula, wore many charms about his person. One maintained him in good health, another helped him in hunting, a third made him a favourite with the women and girls, and a fourth brought him good luck in his trading transactions with the other folk in the town. On the appearance of every new moon, Bakula would at sunset catch a chicken, and, cutting its toe, drop a little blood on each of his charms to keep them in good humour, or otherwise they would not act on his behalf.

Every morning soon after sunrise the women and girls went to work on the farms, carrying with them their hoes, baskets and babies; and then the men and boys went to the bush and forests to hunt for game, to tap the palm-trees for wine, or to gather materials for house building and repairing. Others went to the markets with their pigs, goats, fowls, saucepans, native woven cloth, or any other article they had for sale, or desired to exchange for some needed goods.

Towards the middle of the afternoon the women and girls returned laden with food, firewood and water, and at once set about the preparations for the evening meal--the principal one of the day. Then later came the men and boys firing guns in their jubilation, if they had been successful in the hunt, and the female population would rush out shouting vociferously their congratulations to the hunters, and passing remarks on the bush pig or antelope being carried into the town ignominiously on a pole between two or more bearers. The other men arrived from the markets with the results of the day’s trading, or from the forests with the building materials they had collected.

At five o’clock the inhabitants would all be back, and the town would be very lively--the children laughing and playing at their various games; the men lounging about reciting, with more or less boasting inaccuracy, their doings during the day, and awaiting with keen appetites the evening meal. Over all the noises of the village would be heard the angry voices of the women quarrelling; but as such disturbances were of daily occurrence among the women, very few took any notice of them, except to put in an occasional word to incite the women to greater efforts with their tongues.

Soon after sundown the food was ready, and the women turning it out into baskets and wooden platters, carried it to their husbands, hiding a portion for themselves. If you, my reader, had walked through the town then you would have seen the head of each family, together with his sons, male visitors, and friends, sitting around the vessels containing their food, helping themselves with their fingers, their hands and mouths having already been washed. At some little distance the women and girls would be eating their portions, for they were regarded as inferior creatures, entirely unfit to eat with the men, so they ate in a half-shamefaced, apologetic fashion out of sight of their lords and masters.

As you stood looking at them one of the boys would ask you to have a piece of his pudding, and if you accepted the invitation and took a piece you would find it stick to your teeth like toffee.

“Ah!” the lad would laughingly say, “that is not the way to eat our pudding (_luku_).[15] This is the proper way.” And he would pull off a piece, roll it in his fingers, dip it in some soup, and opening his mouth let it roll down his throat without any chewing; afterwards remarking, with a twinkle in his eye: “You white boys may be very clever, but you certainly do not know how to eat pudding.”

Footnote 15:

See note 13, p. 346.

It was quite dark by the time the meal was finished, and the numerous fires flared and flickered before the houses, lending an air of cheerfulness to the scene. The elders gathered around the fire in front of the chief’s house, and discussed the politics of the day with much earnestness and eloquence. The lads were allowed to stand silently around, listening; and while my owner, Bakula, was there, a pompous man made a long, wearisome speech, in which he showed that he thought more of himself than his hearers thought of him.

The speech was full of bombastic platitudes and boastful words, so the chief at last pointed at him, saying: “Here is a little fowl trying to lay a big egg.” Such was the effect of this proverb that the pompous man collapsed, whilst his audience chuckled and shook their sides with laughter. And amid the laughter Bakula ran off, and we soon joined a group of young folk who were telling stories round the fire.

Bakula was received with shouts of delight, for he was a merry lad, and appeared to have among them the reputation for telling good stories. Hence he was soon called upon for one, and in a lively, pleasant manner, and with much dramatic force, he gave them the following account of

“How the Sparrow set the Elephant and the Crocodile to pull against each other.”

“While the elephant was searching for food one day he happened to pass near a sparrow’s nest, and accidentally knocking against the branch, nearly threw the eggs to the ground. The sparrow thereupon said to the elephant--

“‘You walk very proudly, and not looking where you are going, you nearly upset my nest. If you come this way again I will tie you up.’

“‘Truly you are a little bird,’ the elephant laughingly replied, ‘and are you able to tie up me--an elephant?’ ‘Indeed,’ the sparrow answered him, ‘if you come this way to-morrow, I will bind you.’

“‘All right,’ said the elephant, ‘I will now pass on, and will come back here to-morrow to look upon the strength of a sparrow.’ So the elephant went his way and the sparrow flew off to bathe in a neighbouring river.

“On reaching the river and finding a crocodile asleep at her favourite bathing-place, the sparrow said: ‘Wake up! this is my bathing-place, and if you come here again I will tie you up.’

“‘Can a little sparrow like you tie up a crocodile?’ the crocodile asked her.

“‘It is true what I tell you,’ retorted the sparrow, ‘and if you return here to-morrow I will fasten you up.’

“‘Very well,’ replied the crocodile, ‘I will come to-morrow to see what you can do.’ And with that the crocodile floated away, and the sparrow returned to her nest.

“The next day the sparrow, seeing the elephant coming, said to him: ‘Yesterday I told you not to come this way again, because you endangered my nest. Now I will tie you, as I warned you.’

“‘All right,’ said the elephant, ‘I want to see what a little thing like you can do.’

“The sparrow then brought a strong vine rope, put it round the neck of the elephant, and said to him: ‘Wait a moment while I go and have a drink of water, and then you will see how strong I am.’ To which the elephant replied: ‘Go and drink plenty of water, for to-day I want to see what a sparrow can do.’ So the sparrow went and found the crocodile basking in the sun on the river’s bank.

“‘Oh! you are here again,’ she said, ‘I will tie you up as I warned you yesterday, because you do not listen to what you are told.’ ‘Very well,’ sneered the crocodile, ‘come and tie me up and I will see what strength you have.’

“The sparrow took the end of the rope and tied it round the crocodile, and said: ‘Wait a moment, I will go a little higher up the hill and pull.’ So away she flew up the hill on to a tree, and from there she called out: ‘Pull elephant, pull crocodile. It is I, the sparrow.’ So the elephant pulled and the crocodile pulled, and each thought he was pulling against the sparrow; not knowing they were pulling against each other. All the day long they pulled, until the evening, but neither out-pulled the other. And during the whole day the sparrow was crying out: ‘Pull, elephant, you have the strength; pull harder, elephant.’ And in the same way she addressed the crocodile.

“At last the crocodile said: ‘Friend sparrow, I cannot pull any more, come and unfasten me, and I will never come to your bathing-place again.’ ‘Wait a little while,’ said the sparrow, ‘I am going up to my village.’ And the elephant said, as she drew near: ‘Now I know you are very strong. Please come and undo me, and I will never come again to shake your nest.’ So the sparrow loosened the elephant and then went and removed the rope from the crocodile’s neck; and from that time the sparrow has never been troubled by either the elephant or the crocodile.”

At the close of this story there were many comments on the ’cuteness of the sparrow, and some sage remarks. One little fellow said that, although the sparrow was small, she had more wit and sense than either the big crocodile or the bigger elephant. Therefore we should not despise people because they are small.

They begged Bakula to tell them another story; but he said he could not remember another just then. They, however, pleaded with him, and at last he said: “If Tumbu will now tell one of his stories, I will try and recall one of mine by the time he has finished.” Tumbu, who was sitting at the back, was pushed forward to a place in the centre, near the fire; and as the light from the fire fell on him, it revealed a sad face lit with large, intelligent, but pathetic, eyes.

I knew the boy and his sad story. He was a slave who, in a time of famine in his district a few years ago, had been sold by his parents for a few roots of cassava, and he was forced from his mother, his village acquaintances, and brought to this strange town. The boys and girls twitted him with being a slave, and to make matters worse they taunted him with the miserable price that had been paid for him.

His sensitive spirit brooded in his loneliness over the insults poured upon him, and the marks of his deep sorrows were seen on his sad face. He shrank from the gaze of the many eyes that were now fixed upon him; but Bakula had been kind to him, and had often defended him, and he was ready to bear anything for his hero. Therefore in a glad, shy manner he related the following adventure, called

“The Story of the Four Fools.”

“A wizard out walking one day met a boy crying bitterly. He asked him the reason of his tears, and the boy said: ‘I have lost my father’s parrot, and if you can find it I will pay you well.’ So the wizard called a hunter, a carpenter, and a thief, and told them about the loss and the reward, and they decided to search for the parrot.

“‘Before starting let us show our skill,’ said one of the four. ‘You, thief, go and steal an egg from that fowl without its knowledge.’ The thief went and stole the egg, and the fowl did not move. The hunter put up the egg as a mark, went a long distance off and proved his skill by hitting the egg. After which the carpenter showed his cleverness by putting the egg together again. Then they turned to the wizard for him to give a proof of his smartness, and after a little time he said: ‘The parrot has been stolen by the people in that vessel.’

“All four entered their glass ship[16] and after a time caught up to the vessel. The thief went on board, and waved his charm, then he took the parrot, laid the table, and had a good feast; and when he had finished eating he picked up the parrot and returned to his glass ship.

Footnote 16:

See note 14, p. 346.

“When the people in the vessel found the parrot gone, they gave chase to the glass ship. The captain of the vessel sent down the rain and it broke the glass ship, but the carpenter mended it, and the hunter fired at the rain and killed it. The captain sent the lightning and it broke the ship, but the carpenter mended it again, and the hunter fired at the lightning and killed it. So they eventually reached the land and took the parrot to the chief’s son, and said: ‘Here is your father’s parrot.’

“The lad was so glad to receive it that he told them to select what they liked from his wealth, ‘even to the wonderful fowl which lays beads, or anything else you desire.’[17] They chose the fowl and went their way, but they had not gone very far before the wizard said: ‘It is my fowl, for I told you where the parrot was.’ The thief said: ‘No, it is mine, for I stole the parrot from the vessel.’ And the carpenter also claimed it, as he had twice mended the broken ship. Moreover, the hunter said: ‘Of course it is mine, for I killed the rain and the lightning.’ Thus they argued long and angrily, and as they could not agree, they at last did a thing that was amazingly stupid. They killed the wonderful fowl, and divided it into four pieces, each taking his share. Now who out of these four foolish ones should have had the fowl?”

Footnote 17:

See note 15, p. 346.

This story excited a great amount of discussion. Some argued that this one should have had the fowl, and others argued with much gesticulation that another should have taken the fowl. Each character had his supporters; but all agreed that they were four fools not to let the fowl lay plenty of beads and share them.

Bakula was now asked again to give his promised story; and he told them--

“How the Squirrel won a Verdict for the Gazelle.”

“When the leopard and the gazelle were living in the same town each of them bought a goat--the leopard a male and the gazelle a female. One night the gazelle’s goat gave birth to two kids, and the leopard, being very greedy, went and stole the two kids from the gazelle’s goat and put them with his own goat.

“In the morning the leopard called the gazelle and said to him: ‘My goat has given birth to two kids.’ The gazelle was very much surprised at hearing this, as male goats do not have kids, and he told the leopard so; but the leopard said: ‘All right, you don’t believe me. We will call the judges and hear what they say.’ So they carried the case to the court of animals, who acted as judges, and they said: ‘The kids belong to the leopard’s goat.’ For they were very much afraid of the leopard, and thought that if they gave the verdict against him he would kill them.

“The gazelle went and told the squirrel all his troubles and how he was cheated out of his kids. ‘To-morrow morning,’ said the squirrel, ‘put a rope across your town for me to run on.’ So the next morning the gazelle put a rope right by the leopard’s house and courtyard, which were full of the folk who had judged the case in favour of the leopard. And by and by the squirrel came running along the rope at a great rate.

“‘Where are you going so quickly,’ asked the leopard, ‘that you cannot rest a little?’ ‘I am in a hurry to fetch my mother,’ said the squirrel, ‘for my father has just given birth to twins.’

“‘Ah! ah!’ laughed the leopard; ‘can a man give birth to a child?’

“‘Can a male goat give birth to kids?’ retorted the squirrel. Whereat the leopard was so angry and felt so much ashamed of himself, that he went right away from the town and never returned, for fear of the animals laughing at him. And the gazelle carried the kids back to his own goat.”

When this story ended appreciative remarks were made on the wit of the squirrel, and contempt was poured on the clumsy leopard who so foolishly threw away the verdict given in his favour.