Mythology and Folklore UN-Textbook: Unit: Africa (Lang)

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Myth-Folklore Unit: African Stories from Lang's Fairy Books

Overview. These stories are drawn from the fairy books of Andrew Lang (with accompanying audio if you would like to listen to the stories read aloud), and they cover a range of traditions. The wonderful story of little Motiktatika and the ogre is a Ba-Ronga story from southern Africa, while the stories of the trickster jackal come from the Berbers of northern Africa. There are also Swahili stories from eastern Africa like the tale of "Hassebu and the King of the Snakes" and "The Monkey and the Shark." The final story in the selection is a hero legend from Zimbabwe about the mighty Makoma, who defeated the earth giant Chi-dubula-taka, the forest giant Chi-gwisa-miti, the fire-eating giant Chi-idea-moto, and the river giant Chin-debou Mau-giri, before his final battle with the five-headed monster Sakatirina.

Language. These stories are told in modern English prose, so the language used should pose no difficulties.

Story Length. These are mostly longer stories, two or three pages in length. There are eight stories total, and one of those is a double story where one tale is told inside another one.

Navigation. You will find the table of contents below, and you can also use this link to see the story posts displayed on two pages total: African Stories from Lang's Fairy Books. Click "Older Posts" at the bottom of that page to see the second page.

Free audiobooks available:

Grey -Violet - Crimson - Orange - Lilac

READING A:

READING B:

Africa: Motikatika

The story of Motikatika was collected by Henri-Alexandre Junod in his work among the Ba-Ronga (Thonga, Tsonga) people of Mozambique in southern Africa. You can learn more at Wikipedia.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1903).

Motikatika

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

Once upon a time, in a very hot country, a man lived with his wife in a little hut, which was surrounded by grass and flowers. They were perfectly happy together till, by-and-by, the woman fell ill and refused to take any food. The husband tried to persuade her to eat all sorts of delicious fruits that he had found in the forest, but she would have none of them, and grew so thin he feared she would die.

'Is there nothing you would like?' he said at last in despair.

'Yes, I think I could eat some wild honey,' answered she. The husband was overjoyed, for he thought this sounded easy enough to get, and he went off at once in search of it.

He came back with a wooden pan quite full, and gave it to his wife.

'I can't eat that,' she said, turning away in disgust. 'Look! there are some dead bees in it! I want honey that is quite pure.' And the man threw the rejected honey on the grass, and started off to get some fresh.

When he got back he offered it to his wife, who treated it as she had done the first bowlful.

'That honey has got ants in it: throw it away,' she said, and when he brought her some more, she declared it was full of earth.

In his fourth journey he managed to find some that she would eat, and then she begged him to get her some water. This took him some time, but at length he came to a lake whose waters were sweetened with sugar. He filled a pannikin quite full, and carried it home to his wife, who drank it eagerly, and said that she now felt quite well.

When she was up and had dressed herself, her husband lay down in her place, saying: 'You have given me a great deal of trouble, and now it is my turn!'

'What is the matter with you?' asked the wife.

'I am thirsty and want some water,' answered he; and she took a large pot and carried it to the nearest spring, which was a good way off.

'Here is the water,' she said to her husband, lifting the heavy pot from her head, but he turned away in disgust.

'You have drawn it from the pool that is full of frogs and willows; you must get me some more.' So the woman set out again and walked still further to another lake.

'This water tastes of rushes,' he exclaimed, 'go and get some fresh.'

But when she brought back a third supply he declared that it seemed made up of water-lilies, and that he must have water that was pure, and not spoilt by willows, or frogs, or rushes.

So for the fourth time she put her jug on her head, and passing all the lakes she had hitherto tried, she came to another, where the water was golden like honey. She stooped down to drink, when a horrible head bobbed up on the surface.

'How dare you steal my water?' cried the head.

'It is my husband who has sent me,' she replied, trembling all over. 'But do not kill me! You shall have my baby, if you will only let me go.'

'How am I to know which is your baby?' asked the Ogre.

'Oh, that is easily managed. I will shave both sides of his head and hang some white beads round his neck. And when you come to the hut you have only to call "Motikatika!" and he will run to meet you, and you can eat him.'

'Very well,' said the ogre, 'you can go home.' And after filling the pot she returned and told her husband of the dreadful danger she had been in.

Now, though his mother did not know it, the baby was a magician, and he had heard all that his mother had promised the ogre, and he laughed to himself as he planned how to outwit her.

Next: Motikatika (cont.)

(700 words)

Africa: Motikatika (cont.)

If you are interested, the book by Henri Alexandre Junod, Les Ba-Ronga, that was Lang's source for this story has facing text in both French and in the original Ronga language. You can take a look here: Hathi Trust.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1903).

Motikatika (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

The next morning she shaved his head on both sides, and hung the white beads round his neck, and said to him: 'I am going to the fields to work, but you must stay at home. Be sure you do not go outside, or some wild beast may eat you.'

'Very well,' answered he.

As soon as his mother was out of sight, the baby took out some magic bones and placed them in a row before him.

'You are my father,' he told one bone, 'and you are my mother. You are the biggest,' he said to the third, 'so you shall be the ogre who wants to eat me, and you,' to another, 'are very little; therefore you shall be me. Now, then, tell me what I am to do.'

'Collect all the babies in the village the same size as yourself,' answered the bones, 'shave the sides of their heads, and hang white beads round their necks, and tell them that when anybody calls "Motikatika," they are to answer to it. And be quick for you have no time to lose.'

Motikatika went out directly, and brought back quite a crowd of babies, and shaved their heads, and hung white beads round their little black necks, and just as he had finished, the ground began to shake, and the huge ogre came striding along, crying: 'Motikatika! Motikatika!'

'Here we are! here we are!' answered the babies, all running to meet him.

'It is Motikatika I want,' said the ogre.

'We are all Motikatika,' they replied. And the ogre sat down in bewilderment, for he dared not eat the children of people who had done him no wrong or a heavy punishment would befall him. The children waited for a little, wondering, and then they went away.

The ogre remained where he was, till the evening, when the woman returned from the fields.

'I have not seen Motikatika,' said he.

'But why did you not call him by his name, as I told you?' she asked.

'I did, but all the babies in the village seemed to be named Motikatika,' answered the ogre; 'you cannot think the number who came running to me.'

The woman did not know what to make of it, so, to keep him in a good temper, she entered the hut and prepared a bowl of maize, which she brought him.

'I do not want maize; I want the baby,' grumbled he 'and I will have him.'

'Have patience,' answered she; 'I will call him, and you can eat him at once.'

And she went into the hut and cried, 'Motikatika!'

'I am coming, mother,' replied he, but first he took out his bones and, crouching down on the ground behind the hut, asked them how he should escape the ogre.

'Change yourself into a mouse,' said the bones, and so he did, and the ogre grew tired of waiting, and told the woman she must invent some other plan.

'To-morrow I will send him into the field to pick some beans for me, and you will find him there, and can eat him.'

'Very well,' replied the ogre, 'and this time I will take care to have him,' and he went back to his lake.

Next morning Motikatika was sent out with a basket and told to pick some beans for dinner. On the way to the field he took out his bones and asked them what he was to do to escape from the ogre. 'Change yourself into a bird and snap off the beans,' said the bones. And the ogre chased away the bird, not knowing that it was Motikatika.

(bean field, photo by CIAT)

The ogre went back to the hut and told the woman that she had deceived him again, and that he would not be put off any longer.

'Return here this evening,' answered she, 'and you will find him in bed under this white coverlet. Then you can carry him away, and eat him at once.'

But the boy heard and consulted his bones, which said: 'Take the red coverlet from your father's bed, and put yours on his,' and so he did.

And when the ogre came, he seized Motikatika's father and carried him outside the hut and ate him.

When his wife found out the mistake, she cried bitterly, but Motikatika said: 'It is only just that he should be eaten, and not I; for it was he, and not I, who sent you to fetch the water.'

Next: Jackal and Spring

(700 words)

Africa: Jackal and Spring

This is a story that Lang includes from South Africa, and you can read a different retelling of this same type of story in the South Africa unit for this class, which contains additional stories about Jackal, the trickster.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Grey Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1900).

(jackal)

Jackal and Spring

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

Once upon a time all the streams and rivers ran so dry that the animals did not know how to get water. After a very long search, which had been quite in vain, they found a tiny spring,which only wanted to be dug deeper so as to yield plenty of water. So the beasts said to each other, 'Let us dig a well, and then we shall not fear to die of thirst,' and they all consented except the jackal, who hated work of any kind, and generally got somebody to do it for him.

When they had finished their well, they held a council as to who should be made the guardian of the well so that the jackal might not come near it for, they said, 'he would not work; therefore he shall not drink.'

After some talk it was decided that the rabbit should be left in charge; then all the other beasts went back to their homes.

When they were out of sight the jackal arrived. 'Good morning! Good morning, rabbit!' and the rabbit politely said, 'Good morning!'

Then the jackal unfastened the little bag that hung at his side, and pulled out of it a piece of honeycomb which he began to eat, and turning to the rabbit he remarked, 'As you see, rabbit, I am not thirsty in the least, and this is nicer than any water.'

'Give me a bit,' asked the rabbit. So the jackal handed him a very little morsel.

'Oh, how good it is!' cried the rabbit; 'give me a little more, dear friend!'

But the jackal answered, 'If you really want me to give you some more, you must have your paws tied behind you and lie on your back so that I can pour it into your mouth.'

The rabbit did as he was bid, and when he was tied tight and popped on his back, the jackal ran to the spring and drank as much as he wanted. When he had quite finished he returned to his den.

In the evening the animals all came back, and when they saw the rabbit lying with his paws tied, they said to him, 'Rabbit, how did you let yourself be taken in like this?'

'It was all the fault of the jackal,' replied the rabbit; 'he tied me up like this, and told me he would give me something nice to eat. It was all a trick just to get at our water.'

'Rabbit, you are no better than an idiot to have let the jackal drink our water when he would not help to find it. Who shall be our next watchman? We must have somebody a little sharper than you!' and the little hare called out, 'I will be the watchman.'

The following morning the animals all went their various ways, leaving the little hare to guard the spring. When they were out of sight the jackal came back.

'Good morning! good morning, little hare,' and the little hare politely said, 'Good morning.'

'Can you give me a pinch of snuff?' said the jackal.

'I am so sorry, but I have none,' answered the little hare.

The jackal then came, and sat down by the little hare, and unfastened his little bag, pulling out of it a piece of honeycomb. He licked his lips and exclaimed, 'Oh, little hare, if you only knew how good it is!'

'What is it?' asked the little hare.

'It is something that moistens my throat so deliciously,' answered the jackal, 'that after I have eaten it I don't feel thirsty any more, while I am sure that all you other beasts are for ever wanting water.'

'Give me a bit, dear friend,' asked the little hare.

'Not so fast,' replied the jackal. 'If you really wish to enjoy what you are eating, you must have your paws tied behind you and lie on your back so that I can pour it into your mouth.'

'You can tie them, only be quick,' said the little hare, and when he was tied tight and popped on his back, the jackal went quietly down to the well and drank as much as he wanted. When he had quite finished, he returned to his den.

In the evening the animals all came back, and when they saw the little hare with his paws tied, they said to him, 'Little hare, how did you let yourself be taken in like this? Didn't you boast you were very sharp? You undertook to guard our water; now show us how much is left for us to drink!'

'It is all the fault of the jackal,' replied the little hare. 'He told me he would give me something nice to eat if I would just let him tie my hands behind my back.'

Then the animals said, 'Who can we trust to mount guard now?'

And the panther answered, 'Let it be the tortoise.'

The following morning the animals all went their various ways, leaving the tortoise to guard the spring.

When they were out of sight the jackal came back. 'Good morning, tortoise; good morning.'

But the tortoise took no notice.

'Good morning, tortoise; good morning.' But still the tortoise pretended not to hear.

Then the jackal said to himself, 'Well, to-day I have only got to manage a bigger idiot than before. I shall just kick him on one side, and then go and have a drink.'

So he went up to the tortoise and said to him in a soft voice, 'Tortoise! tortoise!' but the tortoise took no notice.

Then the jackal kicked him out of the way and went to the well and began to drink, but scarcely had he touched the water than the tortoise seized him by the leg. The jackal shrieked out, 'Oh, you will break my leg!' but the tortoise only held on the tighter.

The jackal then took his bag and tried to make the tortoise smell the honeycomb he had inside, but the tortoise turned away his head and smelt nothing.

At last the jackal said to the tortoise, 'I should like to give you my bag and everything in it,' but the only answer the tortoise made was to grasp the jackal's leg tighter still.

So matters stood when the other animals came back. The moment he saw them, the jackal gave a violent tug, and managed to free his leg, and then took to his heels as fast as he could.

And the animals all said to the tortoise, 'Well done, tortoise, you have proved your courage; now we can drink from our well in peace as you have got the better of that thieving jackal!'

Next: Adventures of a Jackal

(1100 words)

Africa: Adventures of a Jackal

The following cycle of stories about jackal and his sons comes from the Berber people of northern Africa, with the largest Berber population being in Algeria. There are approximately 20 million speakers of Berber languages spread throughout north Africa today. The word "Berber" itself is a form of the ancient Greek word "barbarian," which is a term the Greeks used for anyone who did not speak Greek (barbarians are the people who go "bar-bar" when they talk, like the way we use the sound "blah-blah" to indicate meaningless speech). The term that the Berbers use to refer to themselves is "Amazigh." You can read more about the Amazigh people at Wikipedia.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Orange Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1906).

Adventures of a Jackal

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

In a country which is full of wild beasts of all sorts there once lived a jackal and a hedgehog and, unlike though they were, the two animals made great friends and were often seen in each other's company.

(hedgehog)

One afternoon they were walking along a road together, when the jackal, who was the taller of the two, exclaimed, 'Oh! there is a barn full of corn; let us go and eat some.'

'Yes, do let us!' answered the hedgehog.

So they went to the barn and ate till they could eat no more. Then the jackal put on his shoes, which he had taken off so as to make no noise, and they returned to the high road.

After they had gone some way they met a panther, who stopped, and bowing politely, said, 'Excuse my speaking to you, but I cannot help admiring those shoes of yours. Do you mind telling me who made them?'

'Yes, I think they are rather nice,' answered the jackal; 'I made them myself, though.'

'Could you make me a pair like them?' asked the panther eagerly.

'I would do my best, of course,' replied the jackal, 'but you must kill me a cow, and when we have eaten the flesh, I will take the skin and make your shoes out of it.'

So the panther prowled about until he saw a fine cow grazing apart from the rest of the herd. He killed it instantly and then gave a cry to the jackal and hedgehog to come to the place where he was. They soon skinned the dead beast and spread its skin out to dry, after which they had a grand feast before they curled themselves up for the night and slept soundly.

Next morning the jackal got up early and set to work upon the shoes, while the panther sat by and looked on with delight. At last they were finished, and the jackal arose and stretched himself.

'Now go and lay them in the sun out there,' said he; 'in a couple of hours they will be ready to put on, but do not attempt to wear them before, or you will feel them most uncomfortable. But I see the sun is high in the heavens, and we must be continuing our journey.'

The panther, who always believed what everybody told him, did exactly as he was bid, and in two hours' time began to fasten on the shoes. They certainly set off his paws wonderfully, and he stretched out his forepaws and looked at them with pride. But when he tried to walk--ah! that was another story! They were so stiff and hard that he nearly shrieked every step he took, and at last he sank down where he was, and actually began to cry.

After some time, some little partridges who were hopping about heard the poor panther's groans and went up to see what was the matter. He had never tried to make his dinner off them, and they had always been quite friendly.

'You seem in pain,' said one of them, fluttering close to him; 'can we help you?'

'Oh, it is the jackal! He made me these shoes; they are so hard and tight that they hurt my feet, and I cannot manage to kick them off.'

'Lie still, and we will soften them,' answered the kind little partridge. And calling to his brothers, they all flew to the nearest spring and carried water in their beaks, which they poured over the shoes. This they did till the hard leather grew soft, and the panther was able to slip his feet out of them.

'Oh, thank you, thank you,' he cried, skipping round with joy. 'I feel a different creature. Now I will go after the jackal and pay him my debts.' And he bounded away into the forest.

Next: Adventures of a Jackal (cont.)

(600 words)

Africa: Adventures of a Jackal (cont.)

As you can see in the picture below, the African panther is also known as a leopard. There are actually five big cats that are members of the Panthera genus: the tiger, the lion, the jaguar, the leopard, and the snow leopard. You can find out more at Wikipedia.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Orange Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1906).

Adventures of a Jackal (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

But the jackal had been very cunning and had trotted backwards and forwards and in and out, so that it was very difficult to know which track he had really followed. At length, however, the panther caught sight of his enemy, at the same moment that the jackal had caught sight of him.

(African panther = leopard)

The panther gave a loud roar and sprang forward, but the jackal was too quick for him and plunged into a dense thicket where the panther could not follow.

Disgusted with his failure, but more angry than ever, the panther lay down for a while to consider what he should do next and, as he was thinking, an old man came by.

'Oh! Father, tell me how I can repay the jackal for the way he has served me!' And without more ado he told his story.

'If you take my advice,' answered the old man, 'you will kill a cow and invite all the jackals in the forest to the feast. Watch them carefully while they are eating, and you will see that most of them keep their eyes on their food. But if one of them glances at you, you will know that is the traitor.'

The panther, whose manners were always good, thanked the old man and followed his counsel. The cow was killed, and the partridges flew about with invitations to the jackals, who gathered in large numbers to the feast.

The wicked jackal came amongst them, but as the panther had only seen him once he could not distinguish him from the rest. However, they all took their places on wooden seats placed round the dead cow, which was laid across the boughs of a fallen tree, and began their dinner, each jackal fixing his eyes greedily on the piece of meat before him.

Only one of them seemed uneasy, and every now and then glanced in the direction of his host. This the panther noticed, and suddenly made a bound at the culprit and seized his tail, but again the jackal was too quick for him and, catching up a knife, he cut off his tail and darted into the forest, followed by all the rest of the party. And before the panther had recovered from his surprise he found himself alone.

'What am I to do now?' he asked the old man, who soon came back to see how things had turned out.

'It is very unfortunate, certainly,' answered he, 'but I think I know where you can find him. There is a melon garden about two miles from here, and as jackals are very fond of melons, they are nearly sure to have gone there to feed. If you see a tailless jackal you will know that he is the one you want.' So the panther thanked him and went his way.

Now the jackal had guessed what advice the old man would give his enemy, and so, while his friends were greedily eating the ripest melons in the sunniest corner of the garden, he stole behind them and tied their tails together. He had only just finished when his ears caught the sound of breaking branches, and he cried: 'Quick! quick! here comes the master of the garden!' And the jackals sprang up and ran away in all directions, leaving their tails behind them. And how was the panther to know which was his enemy?

'They none of them had any tails,' he said sadly to the old man, 'and I am tired of hunting them. I shall leave them alone and go and catch something for supper.'

Of course the hedgehog had not been able to take part in any of these adventures, but as soon as all danger was over, the jackal went to look for his friend, whom he was lucky enough to find at home.

Next: Adventures of a Jackal (end)

(600 words)

Africa: Adventures of a Jackal (end)

You might be surprised to find a hedgehog as a character in African folktales, but there are hedgehogs throughout Europe, Asia, and Africa. You can read more about the African hedgehog at the African Wildlife Foundation.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Orange Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1906).

Adventures of a Jackal (end)

(see previous page for audio)

'Ah, there you are,' he said gaily. 'I have lost my tail since I saw you last. And other people have lost theirs too, but that is no matter! I am hungry, so come with me to the shepherd who is sitting over there, and we will ask him to sell us one of his sheep.'

'Yes, that is a good plan,' answered the hedgehog. And he walked as fast as his little legs would go to keep up with the jackal.

When they reached the shepherd, the jackal pulled out his purse from under his foreleg and made his bargain.

'Only wait till to-morrow,' said the shepherd, 'and I will give you the biggest sheep you ever saw. But he always feeds at some distance from the rest of the flock, and it would take me a long time to catch him.'

(sheep)

'Well, it is very tiresome, but I suppose I must wait,' replied the jackal. And he and the hedgehog looked about for a nice dry cave in which to make themselves comfortable for the night.

But, after they had gone, the shepherd killed one of his sheep and stripped off his skin, which he sewed tightly round a greyhound he had with him and put a cord round its neck. Then he lay down and went to sleep.

Very, very early, before the sun was properly up, the jackal and the hedgehog were pulling at the shepherd's cloak.

'Wake up,' they said, 'and give us that sheep. We have had nothing to eat all night and are very hungry.'

The shepherd yawned and rubbed his eyes. 'He is tied up to that tree; go and take him.'

So they went to the tree, and unfastened the cord, and turned to go back to the cave where they had slept, dragging the greyhound after them.

When they reached the cave the jackal said to the hedgehog, 'Before I kill him, let me see whether he is fat or thin.' And he stood a little way back, so that he might the better examine the animal. After looking at him, with his head on one side, for a minute or two, he nodded gravely.

'He is quite fat enough; he is a good sheep.'

But the hedgehog, who sometimes showed more cunning than anyone would have guessed, answered, 'My friend, you are talking nonsense. The wool is indeed a sheep's wool, but the paws of my uncle the greyhound peep out from underneath.'

'He is a sheep,' repeated the jackal, who did not like to think anyone cleverer than himself.

'Hold the cord while I look at him,' answered the hedgehog.

Very unwillingly the jackal held the rope, while the hedgehog walked slowly round the greyhound till he reached the jackal again. He knew quite well by the paws and tail that it was a greyhound and not a sheep, that the shepherd had sold them, and as he could not tell what turn affairs might take, he resolved to get out of the way.

'Oh! yes, you are right,' he said to the jackal, 'but I never can eat till I have first drunk. I will just go and quench my thirst from that spring at the edge of the wood, and then I shall be ready for breakfast.'

'Don't be long, then,' called the jackal, as the hedgehog hurried off at his best pace. And he lay down under a rock to wait for him.

More than an hour passed by and the hedgehog had had plenty of time to go to the spring and back, and still there was no sign of him. And this was very natural, as he had hidden himself in some long grass under a tree!

At length the jackal guessed that for some reason his friend had run away and determined to wait for his breakfast no longer. So he went up to the place where the greyhound had been tethered and untied the rope.

But just as he was about to spring on his back and give him a deadly bite, the jackal heard a low growl, which never proceeded from the throat of any sheep. Like a flash of lightning the jackal threw down the cord and was flying across the plain, but though his legs were long, the greyhound's legs were longer still, and he soon came up with his prey. The jackal turned to fight, but he was no match for the greyhound, and in a few minutes he was lying dead on the ground, while the greyhound was trotting peacefully back to the shepherd.

Next: Adventures of Jackal's Eldest Son

(800 words)

Africa: Adventures of Jackal's Eldest Son

This is another Berber story, and the reference to a mosque in the first part of the story is a clue to its North African setting.

The second part of this story is also told as an Aesop's fable, which has become the proverbial "lion's share" in English. You can see the Aesop's fable here: The Lion's Share.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Orange Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1906).

Adventures of Jackal's Eldest Son

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

Now, though the jackal was dead, he had left two sons behind him, every whit as cunning and tricky as their father.

The elder of the two was a fine handsome creature who had a pleasant manner and made many friends. The animal he saw most of was a hyena, and one day, when they were taking a walk together, they picked up a beautiful green cloak, which had evidently been dropped by some one riding across the plain on a camel.

(hyena)

Of course each wanted to have it, and they almost quarrelled over the matter, but at length it was settled that the hyena should wear the cloak by day and the jackal by night.

After a little while, however, the jackal became discontented with this arrangement, declaring that none of his friends, who were quite different from those of the hyena, could see the splendour of the mantle, and that it was only fair that he should sometimes be allowed to wear it by day. To this the hyena would by no means consent, and they were on the eve of a quarrel when the hyena proposed that they should ask the lion to judge between them. The jackal agreed to this, and the hyena wrapped the cloak about him, and they both trotted off to the lion's den.

The jackal, who was fond of talking, at once told the story and, when it was finished, the lion turned to the hyena and asked if it was true.

'Quite true, Your Majesty,' answered the hyena.

'Then lay the cloak on the ground at my feet,' said the lion, 'and I will give my judgment.' So the mantle was spread upon the red earth, the hyena and the jackal standing on each side of it.

There was silence for a few moments, and then the lion sat up, looking very great and wise.

'My judgment is that the garment shall belong wholly to whoever first rings the bell of the nearest mosque at dawn to-morrow. Now go, for much business awaits me!'

All that night the hyena sat up, fearing lest the jackal should reach the bell before him, for the mosque was close at hand. With the first streak of dawn he bounded away to the bell, just as the jackal, who had slept soundly all night, was rising to his feet.

'Good luck to you,' cried the jackal. And throwing the cloak over his back he darted away across the plain and was seen no more by his friend the hyena.

After running several miles the jackal thought he was safe from pursuit and, seeing a lion and another hyena talking together, he strolled up to join them.

'Good morning,' he said; 'may I ask what is the matter? You seem very serious about something.'

'Pray sit down,' answered the lion. 'We were wondering in which direction we should go to find the best dinner. The hyena wishes to go to the forest, and I to the mountains. What do you say?'

'Well, as I was sauntering over the plain, just now, I noticed a flock of sheep grazing, and some of them had wandered into a little valley quite out of sight of the shepherd. If you keep among the rocks you will never be observed. But perhaps you will allow me to go with you and show you the way?'

'You are really very kind,' answered the lion. And they crept steadily along till at length they reached the mouth of the valley where a ram, a sheep and a lamb were feeding on the rich grass, unconscious of their danger.

'How shall we divide them?' asked the lion in a whisper to the hyena.

'Oh, it is easily done,' replied the hyena. 'The lamb for me, the sheep for the jackal, and the ram for the lion.'

'So I am to have that lean creature, which is nothing but horns, am I?' cried the lion in a rage. 'I will teach you to divide things in that manner!' And he gave the hyena two great blows which stretched him dead in a moment.

Then he turned to the jackal and said: 'How would you divide them?'

'Quite differently from the hyena,' replied the jackal. 'You will breakfast off the lamb, you will dine off the sheep, and you will sup off the ram.'

'Dear me, how clever you are! Who taught you such wisdom?' exclaimed the lion, looking at him admiringly.

'The fate of the hyena,' answered the jackal, laughing and running off at his best speed, for he saw two men armed with spears coming close behind the lion!

Next: Adventures of Jackal's Eldest Son (cont.)

(800 words)

Africa: Adventures of Jackal's Eldest Son (cont.)

You may be surprised by the end of this story: the hedgehog turns out to be a more formidable creature than you might expect!

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Orange Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1906).

(jackal photo by jeppestown)

Adventures of Jackal's Eldest Son (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

The jackal continued to run till at last he could run no longer. He flung himself under a tree panting for breath when he heard a rustle amongst the grass, and his father's old friend the hedgehog appeared before him.

'Oh, is it you?' asked the little creature; 'how strange that we should meet so far from home!'

'I have just had a narrow escape of my life,' gasped the jackal, 'and I need some sleep. After that we must think of something to do to amuse ourselves.' And he lay down again and slept soundly for a couple of hours.

'Now I am ready,' said he; 'have you anything to propose?'

'In a valley beyond those trees,' answered the hedgehog, 'there is a small farmhouse where the best butter in the world is made. I know their ways, and in an hour's time the farmer's wife will be off to milk the cows, which she keeps at some distance. We could easily get in at the window of the shed where she keeps the butter, and I will watch, lest some one should come unexpectedly, while you have a good meal. Then you shall watch, and I will eat.'

'That sounds a good plan,' replied the jackal, and they set off together.

But when they reached the farmhouse the jackal said to the hedgehog: 'Go in and fetch the pots of butter, and I will hide them in a safe place.'

'Oh no,' cried the hedgehog, 'I really couldn't. They would find out directly! And, besides, it is so different just eating a little now and then.'

'Do as I bid you at once,' said the jackal, looking at the hedgehog so sternly that the little fellow dared say no more and soon rolled the jars to the window where the jackal lifted them out one by one.

When they were all in a row before him he gave a sudden start.

'Run for your life,' he whispered to his companion; 'I see the woman coming over the hill!' And the hedgehog, his heart beating, set off as fast as he could.

The jackal remained where he was, shaking with laughter, for the woman was not in sight at all, and he had only sent the hedgehog away because he did not want him to know where the jars of butter were buried. But every day he stole out to their hiding-place and had a delicious feast.

At length, one morning, the hedgehog suddenly said, 'You never told me what you did with those jars?'

'Oh, I hid them safely till the farm people should have forgotten all about them,' replied the jackal. 'But as they are still searching for them we must wait a little longer, and then I'll bring them home, and we will share them between us.'

So the hedgehog waited and waited, but every time he asked if there was no chance of getting jars of butter, the jackal put him off with some excuse.

After a while the hedgehog became suspicious, and said: 'I should like to know where you have hidden them. Tonight, when it is quite dark, you shall show me the place.'

'I really can't tell you,' answered the jackal. 'You talk so much that you would be sure to confide the secret to somebody, and then we should have had our trouble for nothing, besides running the risk of our necks being broken by the farmer. I can see that he is getting disheartened and very soon he will give up the search. Have patience just a little longer.'

The hedgehop said no more and pretended to be satisfied, but when some days had gone by, he woke the jackal, who was sleeping soundly after a hunt which had lasted several hours.

'I have just had notice,' remarked the hedgehog, shaking him, 'that my family wish to have a banquet tomorrow, and they have invited you to it. Will you come?'

'Certainly,' answered the jackal, 'with pleasure. But as I have to go out in the morning, you can meet me on the road.'

'That will do very well,' replied the hedgehog. And the jackal went to sleep again for he was obliged to be up early.

Punctual to the moment, the hedgehog arrived at the place appointed for their meeting, and as the jackal was not there, he sat down and waited for him.

'Ah, there you are!' he cried when the dusky yellow form at last turned the corner. 'I had nearly given you up! Indeed, I almost wish you had not come, for I hardly know where I shall hide you.'

'Why should you hide me anywhere?' asked the jackal. 'What is the matter with you?'

'Well, so many of the guests have brought their dogs and mules with them that I fear it may hardly be safe for you to go amongst them. No; don't run off that way,' he added quickly, 'because there is another troop that are coming over the hill. Lie down here, and I will throw these sacks over you, and keep still for your life, whatever happens.'

And what did happen was that when the jackal was lying covered up, under a little hill, the hedgehog set a great stone rolling which crushed him to death.

Next: Adventures of Younger Son of Jackal

(900 words)

Africa: Adventures of Younger Son of Jackal

The North African greyhound is also known as a Sloughi. It is a hunting dog and also a guard dog. You can read more at Wikipedia.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Orange Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1906).

(jackal photo by R. Mayorga)

Adventures of Younger Son of Jackal

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

Now that the father and elder brother were both dead, all that was left of the jackal family was one son, who was no less cunning than the others had been. He did not like staying in the same place any better than they, and nobody ever knew in what part of the country he might be found next.

One day, when we was wandering about he beheld a nice fat sheep which was cropping the grass and seemed quite contented with her lot.

'Good morning,' said the jackal, 'I am so glad to see you. I have been looking for you everywhere.'

'For ME?' answered the sheep, in an astonished voice; 'but we have never met before!'

'No; but I have heard of you. Oh! You don't know what fine things I have heard! Ah, well, some people have all the luck!'

'You are very kind, I am sure,' answered the sheep, not knowing which way to look. 'Is there any way in which I can help you?'

'There is something that I had set my heart on, though I hardly like to propose it on so short an acquaintance, but from what people have told me, I thought that you and I might keep house together comfortably, if you would only agree to try. I have several fields belonging to me, and if they are kept well watered, they bear wonderful crops.'

'Perhaps I might come for a short time,' said the sheep, with a little hesitation, 'and if we do not get on, we can part company.'

'Oh, thank you, thank you,' cried the jackal; 'do not let us lose a moment.' And he held out his paw in such an inviting manner that the sheep got up and trotted beside him till they reached home.

'Now,' said the jackal, 'you go to the well and fetch the water, and I will pour it into the trenches that run between the patches of corn.' And as he did so he sang lustily.

The work was very hard, but the sheep did not grumble and by-and-by was rewarded at seeing the little green heads poking themselves through earth. After that, the hot sun ripened them quickly, and soon harvest time was come. Then the grain was cut and ground and ready for sale.

When everything was complete, the jackal said to the sheep: 'Now let us divide it so that we can each do what we like with his share.'

'You do it,' answered the sheep; 'here are the scales. You must weigh it carefully.'

So the jackal began to weigh it, and when he had finished, he counted out loud: 'One, two, three, four, five, six, seven parts for the jackal, and one part for the sheep. If she likes it she can take it, if not, she can leave it.'

The sheep looked at the two heaps in silence — one so large, the other so small, and then she answered: 'Wait for a minute while I fetch some sacks to carry away my share.'

But it was not sacks that the sheep wanted, for as soon as the jackal could no longer see her, she set forth at her best pace to the home of the greyhound where she arrived panting with the haste she had made.

'Oh, good uncle, help me, I pray you!' she cried, as soon as she could speak.

'Why, what is the matter?' asked the greyhound, looking up with astonishment.

'I beg you to return with me and frighten the jackal into paying me what he owes me,' answered the sheep. 'For months we have lived together, and I have twice every day drawn the water, while he only poured it into the trenches. Together we have reaped our harvest, and now, when the moment to divide our crop has come, he has taken seven parts for himself and only left one for me.'

She finished and, giving herself a twist, passed her woolly tail across her eyes while the greyhound watched her but held his peace. Then he said: 'Bring me a sack.' And the sheep hastened away to fetch one. Very soon she returned, and laid the sack down before him.

'Open it wide, that I may get in,' cried he, and when he was comfortably rolled up inside, he bade the sheep take him on her back and hasten to the place where she had left the jackal.

She found him waiting for her and pretending to be asleep, though she clearly saw him wink one of his eyes. However, she took no notice but, throwing the sack roughly on the ground, she exclaimed: 'Now measure!'

At this the jackal got up and, going to the heap of grain which lay close by, he divided it as before into eight portions — seven for himself and one for the sheep.

'What are you doing that for?' asked she indignantly. 'You know quite well that it was I who drew the water, and you who only poured it into the trenches.'

'You are mistaken,' answered the jackal. 'It was I who drew the water, and you who poured it into the trenches. Anybody will tell you that! If you like, I will ask those people who are digging there!'

'Very well,' replied the sheep.

And the jackal called out: 'Ho! You diggers, tell me: Who was it you heard singing over the work?'

'Why, it was you, of course, jackal! You sang so loud that the whole world might have heard you!'

'And who it is that sings — he who draws the water, or he who empties it?'

'Why, certainly he who draws the water!'

'You hear?' said the jackal, turning to the sheep. 'Now come and carry away your own portion, or else I shall take it for myself.'

'You have got the better of me,' answered the sheep; 'and I suppose I must confess myself beaten! But as I bear no malice, go and eat some of the dates that I have brought in that sack.'

And the jackal, who loved dates, ran instantly back and tore open the mouth of the sack. But just as he was about to plunge his nose in, he saw two brown eyes calmly looking at him. In an instant he had let fall the flap of the sack and bounded back to where the sheep was standing.

'I was only in fun, and you have brought my uncle the greyhound. Take away the sack; we will make the division over again.' And he began rearranging the heaps.

'One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, for my mother the sheep, and one for the jackal,' counted he, casting timid glances all the while at the sack.

'Now you can take your share and go,' said the sheep. And the jackal did not need twice telling! Whenever the sheep looked up, she still saw him flying, flying across the plain and, for all I know, he may be flying across it still.

Next: Hassebu

(1100 words)

Africa: Hassebu

This is a story that Andrew Lang reports from a Swahili source; you can see the Swahili original and an English translation here: The Story of Hassebu.

Swahili is the primary language of Tanzania, and it is also spoken in other east African countries such as Kenya and Uganda. Altogether there are approximately 50 million speakers of Swahili in Africa today. The word Swahili is related to the Arabic word for "coast" and was first used by Arab Muslims who came into contact with people living on the east coast of Africa. You may have learned a few Swahili words and phrases from the Disney film, The Lion King, such as the phrase "hakuna matata" ("no problems"). The name of the communications officer on the original Star Trek series, Lt. Uhura, comes from the Swahili word for freedom, "uhuru." You can learn more about Swahili at Wikipedia.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Violet Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1901).

Hassebu

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

Once upon a time there lived a poor woman who had only one child, and he was a little boy called Hassebu. When he ceased to be a baby, and his mother thought it was time for him to learn to read, she sent him to school. And, after he had done with school, he was put into a shop to learn how to make clothes and did not learn, and he was put to do silversmith's work and did not learn, and whatsoever he was taught, he did not learn it. His mother never wished him to do anything he did not like, so she said, 'Well, stay at home, my son.' And he stayed at home, eating and sleeping.

One day the boy said to his mother, 'What was my father's business?'

'He was a very learned doctor,' answered she.

'Where, then, are his books?' asked Hassebu.

'Many days have passed, and I have thought nothing of them. But look inside and see if they are there.' So Hassebu looked and saw they were eaten by insects, all but one book, which he took away and read.

He was sitting at home one morning poring over the medicine book when some neighbours came by and said to his mother, 'Give us this boy that we may go together to cut wood.' For wood-cutting was their trade, and they loaded several donkeys with the wood and sold it in the town.

And his mother answered, 'Very well; to-morrow I will buy him a donkey, and you can all go together.'

So the donkey was bought, and the neighbours came, and they worked hard all day, and in the evening they brought the wood back into the town and sold it for a good sum of money. And for six days they went and did the like, but on the seventh it rained, and the wood-cutters ran and hid in the rocks, all but Hassebu, who did not mind wetting and stayed where he was.

While he was sitting in the place where the wood-cutters had left him, he took up a stone that lay near him and idly dropped it on the ground. It rang with a hollow sound, and he called to his companions and said, 'Come here and listen; the ground seems hollow!'

'Knock again!' cried they. And he knocked and listened.

'Let us dig,' said the boy. And they dug and found a large pit like a well, filled with honey up to the brim.

'This is better than firewood,' said they; 'it will bring us more money. And as you have found it, Hassebu, it is you who must go inside and dip out the honey and give to us, and we will take it to the town, and sell it, and will divide the money with you.'

The following day each man brought every bowl and vessel he could find at home, and Hassebu filled them all with honey. And this he did every day for three months.

At the end of that time the honey was very nearly finished, and there was only a little left, quite at the bottom, and that was very deep down, so deep that it seemed as if it must be right in the middle of the earth. Seeing this, the men said to Hassebu, 'We will put a rope under your arms and let you down so that you may scrape up all the honey that is left, and when you have done, we will lower the rope again, and you shall make it fast, and we will draw you up.'

'Very well,' answered the boy, and he went down, and he scraped and scraped till there was not so much honey left as would cover the point of a needle. 'Now I am ready!' he cried, but they consulted together and said, 'Let us leave him there inside the pit and take his share of the money, and we will tell his mother, "Your son was caught by a lion and carried off into the forest, and we tried to follow him, but could not." '

Then they arose and went into the town and told his mother as they had agreed, and she wept much and made her mourning for many months. And when the men were dividing the money, one said, 'Let us send a little to our friend's mother,' and they sent some to her, and every day one took her rice, and one oil; one took her meat, and one took her cloth, every day.

It did not take long for Hassebu to find out that his companions had left him to die in the pit, but he had a brave heart and hoped that he might be able to find a way out for himself. So he at once began to explore the pit and found it ran back a long way underground. And by night he slept, and by day he took a little of the honey he had gathered and ate it, and so many days passed by.

One morning, while he was sitting on a rock having his breakfast, a large scorpion dropped down at his feet, and he took a stone and killed it, fearing it would sting him.

Next: Hassebu (cont.)

(scorpion)

(800 words)

Africa: Hassebu (cont.)

In this part of the story, you will meet the other main character: the King of Snakes. You will also see more clues that this is a story with Muslim origins, referring as it does to the "Sultan" and to his "Vizir" (a very evil vizir in this case!). The story can be found in the 1001 Nights (details). There is another African version of the story here: The Physician’s Son and the King of the Snakes.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Violet Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1901).

Hassebu (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

Then suddenly the thought darted into his head, 'This scorpion must have come from somewhere! Perhaps there is a hole. I will go and look for it,' and he felt all round the walls of the pit till he found a very little hole in the roof of the pit, with a tiny glimmer of light at the far end of it. Then his heart felt glad, and he took out his knife and dug and dug, till the little hole became a big one, and he could wriggle himself through. And when he had got outside, he saw a large open space in front of him and a path leading out of it.

He went along the path, on and on, till he reached a large house with a golden door standing open. Inside was a great hall, and in the middle of the hall a throne set with precious stones and a sofa spread with the softest cushions. And he went in, and lay down on it, and fell fast asleep, for he had wandered far.

By-and-by there was a sound of people coming through the courtyard, and the measured tramp of soldiers. This was the King of the Snakes coming in state to his palace.

They entered the hall, but all stopped in surprise at finding a man lying on the king's own bed. The soldiers wished to kill him at once, but the king said, 'Leave him alone, put me on a chair,' and the soldiers who were carrying him knelt on the floor, and he slid from their shoulders on to a chair. When he was comfortably seated, he turned to his soldiers and bade them wake the stranger gently. And they woke him, and he sat up and saw many snakes all round him, and one of them very beautiful, decked in royal robes.

'Who are you?' asked Hassebu.

'I am the King of the Snakes,' was the reply, 'and this is my palace. And will you tell me who you are, and where you come from?'

'My name is Hassebu, but whence I come I know not, nor whither I go.'

'Then stay for a little with me,' said the king, and he bade his soldiers bring water from the spring and fruits from the forest, and to set them before the guest.

For some days Hassebu rested and feasted in the palace of the King of the Snakes, and then he began to long for his mother and his own country. So he said to the King of the Snakes, 'Send me home, I pray.'

But the King of the Snakes answered, 'When you go home, you will do me evil!'

'I will do you no evil,' replied Hassebu; 'send me home, I pray.'

But the king said, 'I know it. If I send you home, you will come back and kill me. I dare not do it.' But Hassebu begged so hard that at last the king said, 'Swear that when you get home you will not go to bathe where many people are gathered.' And Hassebu swore, and the king ordered his soldiers to take Hassebu in sight of his native city. Then he went straight to his mother's house, and the heart of his mother was glad.

Now the Sultan of the city was very ill, and all the wise men said that the only thing to cure him was the flesh of the King of the Snakes, and that the only man who could get it was a man with a strange mark on his chest. So the Vizir had set people to watch at the public baths to see if such a man came there.

For three days Hassebu remembered his promise to the King of the Snakes and did not go near the baths; then came a morning so hot he could hardly breathe, and he forgot all about it.

The moment he had slipped off his robe, he was taken before the Vizir, who said to him, 'Lead us to the place where the King of the Snakes lives.'

'I do not know it!' answered he, but the Vizir did not believe him, and had him bound and beaten till his back was all torn.

Then Hassebu cried, 'Loose me that I may take you.'

They went together a long, long way, till they reached the palace of the King of the Snakes.

And Hassebu said to the King, 'It was not I: look at my back and you will see how they drove me to it.'

'Who has beaten you like this?' asked the King.

'It was the Vizir,' replied Hassebu.

'Then I am already dead,' said the King sadly, 'but you must carry me there yourself.'

So Hassebu carried him. And on the way the King said, 'When I arrive, I shall be killed, and my flesh will be cooked. But take some of the water that I am boiled in and put it in a bottle and lay it on one side. The Vizir will tell you to drink it, but be careful not to do so. Then take some more of the water, and drink it, and you will become a great physician, and the third supply you will give to the Sultan. And when the Vizir comes to you and asks, "Did you drink what I gave you?" you must answer, "I did, and this is for you," and he will drink it and die! and your soul will rest.'

And they went their way into the town, and all happened as the King of the Snakes had said.

And the Sultan loved Hassebu, who became a great physician and cured many sick people. But he was always sorry for the poor King of the Snakes.

Next: The Heart of a Monkey

(1000 words)

Africa: The Heart of a Monkey

This marvelous Swahili story shows signs of Arabic cultural contact, as the story you will read here has its origin in India, being one of the Buddhist jataka tales. You can read a Buddhist version of the story in the Jataka Tales unit in this class; it features a crocodile instead of a shark as the villain of the story.

At the end of the story, you will see a "story within a story" technique as one of the characters in this story — the monkey – turns into a storyteller, telling the story of "The Washerman's Donkey" in order to teach the shark a lesson; you will read that story on the following two pages, and then you will return to the monkey and the shark after the monkey finishes up his story.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1910).

The Heart of a Monkey

[LIBRIVOX AUDIO]

A long time ago a little town made up of a collection of low huts stood in a tiny green valley at the foot of a cliff. Of course the people had taken great care to build their houses out of reach of the highest tide which might be driven on shore by a west wind, but on the very edge of the town there had sprung up a tree so large that half its boughs hung over the huts and the other half over the deep sea right under the cliff where sharks loved to come and splash in the clear water.

The branches of the tree itself were laden with fruit, and every day at sunrise a big grey monkey might have been seen sitting in the topmost branches having his breakfast and chattering to himself with delight.

After he had eaten all the fruit on the town side of the tree, the monkey swung himself along the branches to the part which hung over the water. While he was looking out for a nice shady place where he might perch comfortably he noticed a shark watching him from below with greedy eyes.

'Can I do anything for you, my friend?' asked the monkey politely.

'Oh! if you only would thrown me down some of those delicious things, I should be so grateful,' answered the shark. 'After you have lived on fish for fifty years you begin to feel you would like a change. And I am so very, very tired of the taste of salt.'

'Well, I don't like salt myself,' said the monkey, 'so if you will open your mouth I will throw this beautiful juicy kuyu into it,' and, as he spoke, he pulled one off the branch just over his head. But it was not so easy to hit the shark's mouth as he supposed, even when the creature had turned on his back, and the first kuyu only struck one of his teeth and rolled into the water. However, the second time the monkey had better luck, and the fruit fell right in.

'Ah, how good!' cried the shark. 'Send me another, please.' And the monkey grew tired of picking the kuyu long before the shark was tired of eating them.

'It is getting late, and I must be going home to my children,' he said, at length, 'but if you are here at the same time tomorrow I will give you another treat.'

'Thank you, thank you,' said the shark, showing all his great ugly teeth as he grinned with delight; 'you can't guess how happy you have made me,' and he swam away into the shadow, hoping to sleep away the time till the monkey came again.

For weeks the monkey and the shark breakfasted together, and it was a wonder that the tree had any fruit left for them. They became fast friends and told each other about their homes and their children, and how to teach them all they ought to know. By and by the monkey became rather discontented with his green house in a grove of palms beyond the town and longed to see the strange things under the sea which he had heard of from the shark. The shark perceived this very clearly and described greater marvels, and the monkey as he listened grew more and more gloomy.

Matters were in this state when one day the shark said: 'I really hardly know how to thank you for all your kindness to me during these weeks. Here I have nothing of my own to offer you, but if you would only consent to come home with me, how gladly would I give you anything that might happen to take your fancy.'

'I should like nothing better,' cried the monkey, his teeth chattering, as they always did when he was pleased. 'But how could I get there? Not by water. Ugh! It makes me ill to think of it!'

'Oh! don't let that trouble you,' replied the shark; 'you have only to sit on my back and I will undertake that not a drop of water shall touch you.'

So it was arranged, and directly after breakfast next morning the shark swam close up under the tree and the monkey dropped neatly on his back, without even a splash. After a few minutes--for at first he felt a little frightened at his strange position--the monkey began to enjoy himself vastly and asked the shark a thousand questions about the fish and the sea-weeds and the oddly-shaped things that floated past them, and as the shark always gave him some sort of answer, the monkey never guessed that many of the objects they saw were as new to his guide as to himself.

The sun had risen and set six times when the shark suddenly said, 'My friend, we have now performed half our journey, and it is time that I should tell you something.'

'What is it?' asked the monkey. 'Nothing unpleasant, I hope, for you sound rather grave?'

'Oh, no! Nothing at all. It is only that shortly before we left I heard that the sultan of my country is very ill and that the only thing to cure him is a monkey's heart.'

'Poor man, I am very sorry for him,' replied the monkey, 'but you were unwise not to tell me till we had started.'

'What do you mean?' asked the shark, but the monkey, who now understood the whole plot, did not answer at once for he was considering what he should say.

'Why are you so silent?' inquired the shark again.

'I was thinking what a pity it was you did not tell me while I was still on land, and then I would have brought my heart with me.'

'Your heart! Why, isn't your heart here?' said the shark, with a puzzled expression.

'Oh, no! Of course not. Is it possible you don't know that when we leave home, we always hang up our hearts on trees to prevent their being troublesome? However, perhaps you won't believe that and will just think I have invented it because I am afraid, so let us go on to your country as fast as we can, and when we arrive, you can look for my heart, and if you find it, you can kill me.'

The monkey spoke in such a calm, indifferent way that the shark was quite deceived and began to wish he had not been in such a hurry.

'But there is no use going on if your heart is not with you,' he said at last. 'We had better turn back to the town and then you can fetch it.'

Of course, this was just what the monkey wanted, but he was careful not to seem too pleased.

'Well, I don't know,' he remarked carelessly, 'it is such a long way, but you may be right.'

'I am sure I am,' answered the shark, 'and I will swim as quickly as I can,' and so he did, and in three days they caught sight of the kuyu tree hanging over the water.

With a sigh of relief, the monkey caught hold of the nearest branch and swung himself up.

'Wait for me here,' he called out to the shark. 'I am so hungry I must have a little breakfast, and then I will go and look for my heart,' and he went further and further into the branches so that the shark could not see him. Then he curled himself up and went to sleep.

'Are you there?' cried the shark, who was soon tired of swimming about under the cliff and was in haste to be gone.

The monkey awoke with a start, but did not answer.

'Are you there?' called the shark again, louder than before, and in a very cross voice.

'Oh, yes. I am here,' replied the monkey. 'but I wish you had not wakened me up. I was having such a nice nap.'

'Have you got it?' asked the shark. 'It is time we were going.'

'Going where?' inquired the monkey.

'Why, to my country, of course, with your heart. You CAN'T have forgotten!'

'My dear friend,' answered the monkey, with a chuckle, 'I think you must be going a little mad. Do you take me for a washerman's donkey?'

'Don't talk nonsense,' exclaimed the shark, who did not like being laughed at. 'What do you mean about a washerman's donkey? And I wish you would be quick, or we may be too late to save the sultan.'

'Did you really never hear of the washerman's donkey?' asked the monkey, who was enjoying himself immensely. 'Why, he is the beast who has no heart. And as I am not feeling very well and am afraid to start while the sun is so high lest I should get a sunstroke, if you like, I will come a little nearer and tell you his story.'

'Very well,' said the shark sulkily, 'if you won't come, I suppose I may as well listen to that as do nothing.'

So the monkey began.

Next: The Heart of a Monkey: The Washerman's Donkey

(1400 words)

Africa: The Heart of a Monkey: The Washerman's Donkey

This is another story that is also told as an Aesop's fable, although in the version from Aesop, the fox is the trickster, while in this Swahili version, the trickster is a rabbit. You can see the Aesop's fable here: The Ass's Brains.

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1910).

The Heart of a Monkey:
The Washerman's Donkey

(see previous page for audio)

A washerman once lived in the great forest on the other side of the town, and he had a donkey to keep him company and to carry him wherever he wanted to go. For a time they got on very well, but by and by the donkey grew lazy and ungrateful for her master's kindness and ran away several miles into the heart of the forest where she did nothing but eat and eat and eat, till she grew so fat she could hardly move.

One day as she was tasting quite a new kind of grass and wondering if it was as good as what she had had for dinner the day before, a hare happened to pass by.

"Well, that is a fat creature," thought she and turned out of her path to tell the news to a lion who was a friend of hers.

Now the lion had been very ill and was not strong enough to go hunting for himself, and when the hare came and told him that a very fat donkey was to be found only a few hundred yards off, tears of disappointment and weakness filled his eyes.

"What is the good of telling me that?" he asked, in a weepy voice; "you know I cannot even walk as far as that palm."

"Never mind," answered the hare briskly. "If you can't go to your dinner your dinner shall come to you," and nodding a farewell to the lion she went back to the donkey.

"Good morning," said she, bowing politely to the donkey, who lifted her head in surprise. "Excuse my interrupting you, but I have come on very important business."

"Indeed," answered the donkey, "it is most kind of you to take the trouble. May I inquire what the business is?"

"Certainly," replied the hare. "It is my friend the lion who has heard so much of your charms and good qualities that he has sent me to beg that you will give him your paw in marriage. He regrets deeply that he is unable to make the request in person, but he has been ill and is too weak to move."

"Poor fellow! How sad!" said the donkey. "But you must tell him that I feel honoured by his proposal, and will gladly consent to be Queen of the Beasts."

"Will you not come and tell him so yourself?" asked the hare.

Side by side they went down the road which led to the lion's house. It took a long while, for the donkey was so fat with eating she could only walk very slowly, and the hare, who could have run the distance in about five minutes, was obliged to creep along till she almost dropped with fatigue at not being able to go at her own pace.

When at last they arrived, the lion was sitting up at the entrance, looking very pale and thin. The donkey suddenly grew shy and hung her head, but the lion put on his best manners and invited both his visitors to come in and make themselves comfortable.

Very soon the hare got up and said, "Well, as I have another engagement I will leave you to make acquaintance with your future husband," and winking at the lion she bounded away.

The donkey expected that as soon as they were left alone, the lion would begin to speak of their marriage and where they should live, but as he said nothing she looked up. To her surprise and terror she saw him crouching in the corner, his eyes glaring with a red light, and with a loud roar he sprang towards her. But in that moment the donkey had had time to prepare herself, and jumping on one side dealt the lion such a hard kick that he shrieked with the pain. Again and again he struck at her with his claws, but the donkey could bite too, as well as the lion, who was very weak after his illness, and at last a well-planted kick knocked him right over, and he rolled on the floor, groaning with pain. The donkey did not wait for him to get up, but ran away as fast as she could and was lost in the forest.

Now the hare, who knew quite well what would happen, had not gone to do her business, but hid herself in some bushes behind the cave where she could hear quite clearly the sounds of the battle. When all was quiet again she crept gently out and stole round the corner.

"Well, lion, have you killed her?" asked she, running swiftly up the path.

"Killed her, indeed!" answered the lion sulkily, "it is she who has nearly killed me. I never knew a donkey could kick like that, though I took care she should carry away the marks of my claws."

"Dear me! Fancy such a great fat creature being able to fight!" cried the hare. "But don't vex yourself. Just lie still, and your wounds will soon heal," and she bade her friend, goodbye, and returned to her family.

Next: The Heart of a Monkey: The Washerman's Donkey (cont.)

(800 words)

Africa: The Heart of a Monkey: The Washerman's Donkey (cont.)

To understand the joke of this story, you need to know that different cultures attach different symbolic meanings to different parts of the body: while we associate intelligence with the brains, there are other cultures where the heart is considered the seat, not just of emotions, but of intelligence too. Keep that in mind when you see what happens to the donkey at the end of the story, and remember also that the monkey is telling this story to the shark after having persuaded the shark that monkeys can take out their hearts if they want!

[Notes by LKG]

This story is part of the African Stories (Lang) unit. Story source: The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1910).

The Heart of a Monkey:

The Washerman's Donkey (cont.)

(see previous page for audio)

Two or three weeks passed, and only bare places on the donkey's back showed where the lion's claws had been, while, on his side, the lion had recovered from his illness and was now as strong as ever. He was beginning to think that it was almost time for him to begin hunting again, when one morning a rustle was heard in the creepers outside, and the hare's head peeped through.

"Ah! there is no need to ask how you are," she said. "Still you mustn't overtire yourself, you know. Shall I go and bring you your dinner?"

"If you will bring me that donkey I will tear it in two," cried the lion savagely, and the hare laughed and nodded and went on her errand.

This time the donkey was much further than before, and it took longer to find her. At last the hare caught sight of four hoofs in the air and ran towards them. The donkey was lying on a soft cool bed of moss near a stream, rolling herself backwards and forwards from pleasure.

"Good morning," said the hare politely, and the donkey got slowly on to her legs and looked to see who her visitor could be.

"Oh, it is you, is it?" she exclaimed. "Come and have a chat. What news have you got?"

"I mustn't stay," answered the hare, "but I promised the lion to beg you to pay him a visit as he is not well enough to call on you."

"Well, I don't know," replied the donkey gloomily; "the last time we went, he scratched me very badly, and really I was quite afraid."

"He was only trying to kiss you," said the hare, "and you bit him, and of course that made him cross."

"If I were sure of that," hesitated the donkey.

"Oh, you may be quite sure," laughed the hare. "I have a large acquaintance among lions. But let us be quick," and rather unwillingly the donkey set out.

The lion saw them coming and hid himself behind a large tree. As the donkey went past, followed by the hare, he sprang out, and with one blow of his paw stretched the poor foolish creature dead before him.

"Take this meat and skin it and roast it," he said to the hare, "but my appetite is not so good as it was, and the only part I want for myself is the heart. The rest you can either eat yourself or give away to your friends."

"Thank you," replied the hare, balancing the donkey on her back as well as she was able and, though the legs trailed along the ground,she managed to drag it to an open space some distance off, where she made a fire and roasted it. As soon as it was cooked, the hare took out the heart and had just finished eating it when the lion, who was tired of waiting, came up.

"I am hungry," said he. "Bring me the creature's heart; it is just what I want for supper."

"But there is no heart," answered the hare, looking up at the lion with a puzzled face.

"What nonsense!" said the lion. "As if every beast had not got a heart. What do you mean?"

"This is a washerman's donkey," replied the hare gravely.

"Well, and suppose it is?"

"Oh, fie!" exclaimed the hare. "You, a lion and a grown-up person, and ask questions like that. If the donkey had had a heart would she be here now? The first time she came she knew you were trying to kill her, and ran away. Yet she came back a second time. Well, if she had had a heart would she have come back a second time? Now would she?"

And the lion answered slowly, "No, she would not."

~ ~ ~

'So you think I am a washerman's donkey?' said the monkey to the shark, when the story was ended. 'You are wrong; I am not. And as the sun is getting low in the sky, it is time for you to begin your homeward journey. You will have a nice cool voyage, and I hope you will find the sultan better. Farewell!'

And the monkey disappeared among the green branches, and was gone.

Next: Makoma

(700 words)

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