Ajapa the Tortoise

by Margaret Baumann

  XIII. Tortoise and Fly

  Times were hard. Tortoise and his large family barely had enough to eat, and they would remember with regret the good meals they had had in more prosperous times, and wish that they need never feel hungry again.

  “Have you noticed,” said Nyanribo to her husband, “how prosperous Fly and his family seem to be? Even in these hard times they seem to have plenty of money and buy provisions in the market every day. I am sure there is some mystery in it.”

  Tortoise thought so too, but when he went round to the house of the Fly family, he found nobody at home. He waited, resting in the shade of a paw-paw tree, and soon Fly returned, carrying a large and heavy sack.

  Tortoise was very curious to know what was in the sack, but he was not bold enough to ask, and as Fly made no attempt to open it in his presence, he made his farewell greeting and went away.

  But he did not immediately go home. Instead, he crept round to the back of the house and put his eye close to a space in the wall, so that he could see what was going on inside the house.

  He saw that Fly was opening his sack, and out of it poured cowries and coins of every sort, so that Tortoise’s eyes nearly popped out of his head with wonder and envy.

  How came the humble Fly to discover such a treasure? Lucky Fly! He could spread his little wings and buzz through the air without anyone knowing his business or his destination. This is what Tortoise was thinking as he went sadly home.

  But the next evening he returned secretly to Fly’s house and once more applied his inquisitive eye to the hole in the wall. The house was empty, but Fly soon returned, carrying the same heavy sack, which proved to be full of the same treasure. Fly packed the money away, and laid the sack down in a corner near the door.

  When all were sound asleep in the house, Tortoise, carrying a small bag, crept into the room and hid himself in the sack, for he was determined to find out the secret of Fly’s wealth.

  Early next morning Fly shouldered the sack, not without a sigh, for it seemed heavier than usual; but he was eager to be off, and did not look inside.

  He flew through the air for some distance, and then came down in the market-place of a large village, where drummers were beating the tones of a dance.

  The village maidens danced, and the rest of the people watched them and threw coins to the drummers when the dancing was good. When one of the maidens danced very well, the drummers were showered with coins and cowries.

  Hiding in the grass behind the drummers, Fly would pounce down and steal the coins, unobserved, pulling them one by one into his sack, until a good pile had been collected and it was nearly night-time.

  “So this is Fly’s treasure!” thought Tortoise, shaking with laughter inside the sack, and he filled his own little bag with coins, and then lay still.

  At last Fly took up the sack and flew away home, groaning at the weight of the sack. When he reached the house, he flung down the sack, complaining to his wife that he had never known it to be so heavy. While he was talking, Tortoise crept out of the sack with his bag and stole from the house in the darkness.

  What was the disgust of Fly’s wife to discover very few coins in the sack—in fact, it was half empty.

  While she was scolding Fly for his laziness, Tortoise hurried home with the money, and his family was soon enjoying a feast which lasted late into the night.

  Then Tortoise returned and took his place in the sack which lay inside Fly’s door, and the next day the same thing happened. The drummers were showered with coins, which Fly collected busily and stored in his sack; and Tortoise chose the best coins and filled his own bag, leaving poor Fly very few indeed.

  But this time Fly’s suspicions were aroused, and when his wife scolded him for his laziness, he said:

  “Be quiet, wife! There is some mystery in this. The sack was very heavy indeed, and now it is light. Our money has been stolen.”

  Poor Fly was trying to think how the money could have been stolen, when Tortoise softly entered the room where all the family were supposed to be fast asleep, and crawled into the sack. Fly pretended to sleep like the rest, but his sharp eyes had seen the thief, and he was filled with pleasure.

  “Now I have him!” he thought, and fell sound asleep.

  Next morning Fly was in a very good humour as he prepared to go out. He did not grumble about the weight of the sack, which he tied up securely.

  The drummers were playing as usual, and at first Fly stole the coins and placed them in his sack.

  After a while he tied up the sack again and began buzzing round one of the drummers until he succeeded in gaining attention.

  “Is it true,” asked Fly politely, “that for some days you have been losing money, and that you cannot find the thief?”

  “It is true, indeed,” replied the drummer angrily, “and woe betide the thief when we find him.”

  “Perhaps I can help you.”

  The drummer laughed, but Fly pointed to his sack.

  “There is the thief. I caught him stealing your coins, and I have tied him up in his own sack.”

  The drummer took hold of the sack and shook it. Tortoise and the stolen coins rattled loudly.

  “Ah!” cried the drummer, “how shall I punish the thief? I will drown him in the river. I will throw him to the crocodiles.”

  “No,” replied Fly; “the crocodiles might refuse to eat such a miserable creature! Why do you not drum him?”

  “It is a good idea,” said the drummer, chuckling.

  He laid the sack in front of him and began to beat upon it with a stick. Tortoise soon cried out for mercy, but the other drummers also came and beat the sack with sticks until the smooth shell of Tortoise was covered with bruises.

  At last Fly took up the sack and flew high into the air. When he was above Tortoise’s house, he let the sack drop, and it fell with a mighty bang right in front of Tortoise’s door.

  Out rushed Nyanribo, who found poor Tortoise more dead than alive, and very sorry that he had let his curiosity and envy lead him into such trouble.

  To this day he bears upon his back the mark of the bruises he received, but he never told anyone the true story of the beating which he suffered in the sack of his enemy, Fly.

  XIV. The Leopard-Man

  It was market-day in a certain village on the edge of the forest, and a very handsome stranger walked about the streets, looking at the wares displayed on the stalls, but buying nothing and speaking to nobody.

  A girl, who was selling ripe oranges piled in a large calabash, offered him her fruit, but he turned away and said nothing.

  Soon afterwards he went into the forest and was not seen again, but the orange-girl, who was named Tunde, remembered him, and could not sleep that night for thinking about the handsome stranger.

  Next market-day he came again to the village, and once more Tunde offered him her golden oranges. How sad she was when he turned away and soon after walked back into the gloomy forest!

  The third time he came to the village, he again refused to buy Tunde’s fruit, but he looked at the girl for a long time, and she fell so much in love with him that when he went back into the forest, she left her oranges on the ground and ran after him.

  When he saw her, the stranger stopped and asked:

  “Why do you follow me?”

  “Because I love you and wish to stay with you in the forest.”

  “Oh, you must not follow me!” cried the stranger hastily. “Run back to your village and think no more of me.”

  He walked on, but Tunde ran after him, and he soon stopped and asked her again why she followed him.

  “Because I wish to marry you,” said poor Tunde.

  But the stranger replied:

  “Go back and marry a young man from your own village.”

  He hurried on, and the poor girl followed, weeping bitterly, for a long way, until she was very weary. At last the handsome stranger stood still and looked at her silently.

  “My poor girl,” he said sa
dly. “I would gladly marry you, for I love your dark eyes and your bright smile. But if you knew me, you would not wish to follow me at all. I beg you to go back before it is too late. Go back to your village and do not seek to follow me any further.”

  But Tunde grasped the stranger’s hand and said:

  “Whoever you are, take pity on me. I cannot leave you. I will follow you, and I am not afraid to stay even here in the dark forest, as your bride.”

  The stranger sighed heavily and let her walk by his side through the long, dim, green paths of the forest, where strange birds and gorgeous butterflies passed them, and the scent of the sweetest flowers filled all the air.

  At last once more the man stopped and said earnestly:

  “Will you not leave me quickly, before it is too late?”

  “Never!” cried Tunde, weeping, and they went on.

  Soon they stopped at the foot of a large tree, and there on the ground lay a leopard skin.

  “Alas!” said the stranger. “Do you love me still? I am a leopard, and only once in a week can I go about in the form of a man. Alas! Tunde, your fate is sealed!”

  With these words, he stepped into the skin and became a leopard, who crouched down, snarling fiercely and preparing to spring at the girl.

  But Tunde was fleet of foot, and was already running down the path as fast as she could go in the direction of the village.

  The leopard followed her, crying:

  “Lady, lady, stay with me.

  My companion you must be.

  In the forest you must roam,

  Where the leopard makes his home.”

  But Tunde paid no heed to the words and ran faster than ever. Sometimes the leopard nearly caught her, but she was so terrified that she went faster than the antelope, and at last the path grew wider, the trees were further apart, and she knew that she was near the edge of the forest.

  The leopard kept on singing:

  “Lady, lady, do not flee,

  Stay in these deep woods with me.

  Now escape me if you can,

  You who chose the leopard-man.”

  Tunde made a last attempt to reach the village. She ran so fast that her feet scarcely touched the ground, and even the leopard could not keep up with her.

  How thankful she was when suddenly the huts and the market-place of her own village lay before her! She ran straight into the first hut, without once looking back, and the leopard, who could not follow her so far, crept back snarling into the forest.

  Since then the leopard-man has never been seen again in that village, but perhaps the same handsome stranger strolls on market-days in some other village and charms the hearts of village maidens away.

  XV. Tortoise and the World’s Wisdom

  When the world was young, Tortoise was busy for quite a long time collecting wisdom. His task took him a number of years, but at last, looking through all that he had gathered together, he discovered that he had all the world’s wisdom there.

  At first Tortoise was very happy with this discovery, and he put all the pieces of wisdom into a huge pot, which he hid in a corner of his house. But he was terribly afraid that someone might find out the secret and steal his pot.

  He lay awake for three nights wondering where he could hide it in perfect safety.

  “Now if I bury it,” he thought, “someone may see me dig the hole and look there when I have gone away. And if I sink the pot into the sea, I may never find the place again, and all my work will be wasted.”

  At last he found the solution.

  “I will hide my pot at the top of a tree!” he cried joyfully. “No one will think of looking up there for my treasure, and so it will be perfectly safe until I wish to use it.”

  “What did you say, my dear?” asked Nyanribo, his wife, waking up.

  “Go to sleep, wife! I was only counting how many bunches of bananas we may expect to have on our tree,” he replied hastily, for he was so anxious to keep his secret that he had not even told Nyanribo about it.

  The next morning he tied a strong cord round his pot and suspended it in front of him. Then he went to the tallest tree in the district and, when no one was about, he began to climb the tree.

  But the heavy pot suspended in front of him so impeded his movements that he found it almost impossible to make any progress, and after a while he slipped down to the ground again to rest.

  Then he made another attempt, but again without success, and he was still only a short distance from the ground when his son came out of the house and stood watching him.

  “Go away,” said Tortoise crossly. “Can’t you see that I am busy?”

  “But, father,” cried the son, “you will never get to the top of the tree if you carry the pot in front of you. Why don’t you hang it behind you, and then it will be out of your way, and the climbing will be easy?”

  Tortoise stopped climbing and thought:

  “Well! I have all the world’s wisdom in my pot, and yet I am so foolish that my own son can instruct me in climbing a tree. I have put my pieces of wisdom to very poor use!”

  He was so disgusted at the thought that he dropped the pot, and it crashed into many pieces, while all the wisdom it had contained was scattered far and wide. And that is why fragments of wisdom are now to be found all over the earth.

  XVI. The Iroko Tree

  The forest is full of giants, growing in lofty dignity high above the tangled undergrowth, the creepers and the ferns, where snakes and lizards and all the strange wild creatures have their lairs and holes.

  But of all the trees, none is as massive and twisted as the iroko. During the day its cool, wide-spreading branches give a pleasing shade from the steaming heat and the burning rays of the sun.

  But at night there is a strange light which comes and goes, now hanging on its lower branches, now again right at the top, among the nests of the adventurous birds, or again hovering in the wood near the tree.

  And when men see it, they tremble and hurry quickly away, for it is the Iroko-Man, the spirit that dwells in the tree, who comes out at night with his little lamp and flits about the forest.

  Wabi the Wanderer sat in a little hut of branches which his servants had made for him in a clearing of the forest.

  Wabi was very tired after a long day’s journey, and the night was extremely hot. Wabi, who was known among his people as He-whose-feet-have-touched-every-corner-of-the-world, felt discontented and in a very bad temper indeed. He was vexed because night had come too quickly, and he was still some hours’ journey away from his home.

  “I am a man of great ill-luck!” muttered Wabi to himself, as he lay down on the mat his servants had spread for him in the hut and fell asleep.

  Outside the servants were weeping and bewailing their fate, for their master had just given them a sound beating for being too slow with their preparations for the night. He was, in fact, a harsh and cruel master, and during the journey his unfortunate servants had suffered many hardships because of his unkindness.

  Wabi, however, had no thought for them, and, in fact, intended to give them another beating in the morning, because he was so angry at having to sleep in the forest when he was only a few hours from home.

  After he had slept a little while, he suddenly awoke, in the great stillness of the dark forest. He could not help thinking of ghosts and prowling leopards, and to reassure himself, he peeped out of the hut.

  What was his alarm on discovering that he was absolutely alone! His servants, smarting from the blows he had given them, had run away, leaving him to find his way home alone the next day.

  But in a panic Wabi resolved that he could not under any circumstances remain there alone in the middle of the forest. He wrapped his cloak round his trembling shoulders, took up his stick, and began to walk through the trees.

  The path was rough, and shrubs tripped him up so that he fell many times. Creepers twined themselves round his feet like snakes, and altogether he was very terrified, when he suddenly beheld a little lig
ht not far away, between the trees.

  Wabi bounded towards the light, thinking he must be near some village. What was his disgust to find that it was a small lamp carried by a feeble old man, who blinked at him timidly as he approached!

  “Begone, crocodile!” said Wabi, with his usual rudeness. “What brings you here at such an hour, with your stupid light? Curses on you, for you have taken me out of my way.”

  “I may yet serve you as a guide,” replied the old man mildly. “Why should you greet me with curses and angry looks?”

  “I would sooner take a blind monkey as a guide,” was the unfriendly retort.

  “Alas!” said the old man, shaking his head. “These are harsh words. But tell me, Wanderer, where have you been? Who are you, and what is your destination? Have you lost your way, or are you in the forest with some company of travellers?”

  “Before I met you, old man,” said the rough Wabi, “my only intention was to reach home as quickly as possible; but I have on me a sharp knife, and I shall not rest until it has silenced your chattering tongue for ever.”

  He made as though to draw the knife from his belt, but instantly the old man and his light vanished, and the Wanderer was left, trembling, in complete darkness. But in the branches of an ancient iroko tree, which towered near him, there seemed to be a murmur:

  “Wabi the Wanderer, your fate is sealed.” And all the trees around sighed: “Sealed! Sealed!”

  Wabi laughed scornfully and continued his way, but whichever way he walked, he went always in a circle, and many days later he was found wandering still in the forest, his hair wild, his garments tattered, and on his lips a strange laugh and the words: “Sealed! Sealed! Sealed!”

  For Wabi the Wanderer had gone mad.

  “Surely,” murmured Taiwo the Traveller to himself, “I cannot now be far from home! It is more than a month since I began my journey, and I can still see nothing before me but forest—wild, dense, gloomy forest. How fortunate it is that neither leopard nor wolf, neither snake nor savage ape, has harmed me, though I travel alone and almost defenceless.”