Ajapa the Tortoise

by Margaret Baumann

  When the enemy found they could not win by fighting, they resolved to use cunning, and a spy was sent to Iddo Island, disguised as a hunter with leopard-skins and elephant-tusks to sell. In this disguise he went to King Olofin’s palace, and returned there day after day until at last one morning he saw the Queen, Ajaye, walking in the courtyard.

  “Magic charms!” called the spy boldly. “I have charms made from snake-skins and from the teeth of crocodiles. I have the fur of a baby leopard, and the tusks of an elephant two hundred years old!”

  Ajaye was curious to see these wonders, and allowed the hunter to display his wares before her. He told her such wonderful stories of his adventures in the forest that she listened for a long time. When no one was near, the spy whispered to her:

  “Alas! My charms are all worthless compared with the one which protects the life of your husband, King Olofin!”

  Ajaye smiled with pleasure, for she loved Olofin dearly, and was proud of his success in battle.

  “And yet,” continued the crafty spy, “everybody says that the King guards his charm very closely, and that not even the Queen has seen it.”

  “That is false!” said Ajaye quickly. “The charm is a ring which the King wears upon his right hand.”

  The hunter professed to be much astonished, but said: “That may be so. But it is certainly true that the King never allows anyone, not even his Queen, to touch the charm.”

  “That also is false!” replied foolish Ajaye. “The King trusts me, and allows me to touch the ring whenever I wish. To prove it, I will bring the charm to show you, if you return at this hour tomorrow morning.”

  The spy went joyfully away, and that night, while Olofin slept, Ajaye softly removed the ring from his hand and hid it in her garments, and the next morning she showed it triumphantly to the hunter.

  As she held up the ring, the spy quickly snatched it from her and fled. Realizing how she had been tricked, Ajaye fell fainting to the ground, and so allowed the spy to leave the palace and return to his friends.

  Now when Olofin discovered that he had lost his ring, he was filled with dread, but, of course, he never suspected that Ajaye could have stolen it from him, and the poor Queen was so overcome with shame and fear that she dared not tell him the truth. The slaves searched in vain through the palace; no trace of the ring could be found.

  And the very next day the enemy came with their long war canoes to attack Iddo Island. But now that the charm was lost, the King was no longer victorious, and during the day he himself was taken prisoner, and carried away bound and helpless in one of the canoes.

  With what despair and regret did Ajaye mourn that night, afraid to confide the truth even to her sons, who tried in vain to comfort her.

  Meanwhile at Benin City, the town of his enemies, King Olofin was shut up in a building without any entrance, and surrounded by high walls, to die of starvation. At the end of the third day, the building was opened, and out walked Olofin as strong as ever.

  His enemies were astonished, and their King ordered the prisoner to be brought before him. Gazing upon the proud and silent King, he exclaimed:

  “Olofin, I see that your charm lies not only in the ring which you used to wear on your hand, for you have lived three days without food or water and appear as strong as before! Your wife Ajaye should have confided the whole secret to my spy!”

  Olofin remained proudly silent, but his heart broke when he heard of the treachery of his beloved Ajaye. Throughout his misfortunes he had never ceased to think of her, and to believe her the most perfect woman in the world. Even when the King of Benin City declared him free and promised to send him back to Iddo Island in a large canoe, he remained silent, and left the town without uttering a word.

  But his heart burned with sorrow and anger that Ajaye should have betrayed him, and immediately on reaching Iddo Island once more, he ordered her to be beheaded.

  While his people rejoiced at his return, Olofin suffered the pangs of deepest sorrow, and suddenly desiring to hear the true story from his wife’s lips, before he finally condemned her, he rushed to the palace. But he arrived too late! Ajaye had already been beheaded, and her beautiful body lay lifeless on the ground. Yet so great had been their love, that as he gazed, weeping, upon her, the headless body of Ajaye rose from the ground and ran towards him, holding out beseeching hands.

  Then the King remembered the prophecy of her slighted sister—“May she whom you wed be headless!”—and seizing Ajaye’s hands, he forgave her, repenting only the rashness of his command.

  For a long time the body of Ajaye lived in the palace, moving about just as before, until one day a hunter came to the palace gates, with the skins of wild animals which he had slain.

  “I have the skin of a boa-constrictor two thousand years old, and the tail of a baby elephant!” cried the hunter, seeking purchasers for his wares.

  But as the words were uttered, a mournful cry was heard all over Iddo Island, and the unhappy Queen ran down to the sea and there was drowned.

  King Olofin, stricken with grief, lived on for some time, and then he too, despairing of his great loneliness, cast himself into the sea at the same spot, which bears to this day the name of “The Abyss of Ajaye.”

  XXV. The Magician’s Parrot

  In a certain town there were two magicians, who were not very friendly towards one another. The first magician was called Oke, and the second Ata.

  Oke spent his time discovering the secrets of the animals and the birds of the forest, while Ata concocted in his hut strange charms from herbs and flowers, and sold the charms to bring success and happiness to those who bought them.

  Now it happened one day that the King fell ill of a mysterious disease which had never been seen before, and as he seemed likely to die, he sent for the two magicians and promised to give a large reward to whichever of them could succeed in curing him.

  The two magicians went home, and Ata began brewing herbs and crushing petals and wild berries in the darkness of his hut, while Oke, who knew nothing about such things, wandered despairingly in the forest, wishing that he could find some means of winning the reward promised by the King.

  Now Oke had a clever grey parrot, which he took from the forest when it was very young, and taught to speak and to understand his conversation.

  As he strolled among the trees, the grey parrot was perched on his shoulder.

  “Alas!” said the magician aloud. “How can I hope to cure the King? I know nothing about herbs, whereas Ata is at this very moment preparing a charm which will restore the King to good health.”

  “Send me!” said the grey parrot. “Send me! Send me!”

  The magician was struck by these words, and decided to send the parrot to the rival’s house to learn what he could about the charm.

  That evening when Ata was busy over his fire with a large pot of herbs, a grey parrot flew in through the door and perched on his shoulder. At first Ata was startled, but he knew nothing about animals or birds and decided that the parrot must be a good omen for his success. He therefore allowed the bird to stay with him, and fed it with corn.

  The next evening Oke, the other magician, came on a visit to Ata’s house. Ata was, of course, very much surprised to see him, for he had never before paid him a visit.

  However, Oke talked very pleasantly, and noticed with delight that the grey parrot was still in the house, watching him with its bright, beady eyes.

  “What a beautiful parrot you have!” exclaimed the cunning Oke.

  “Oh,” replied Ata carelessly, “this is not my parrot, but a wild bird which flew in from the forest and which is so fond of me that he never leaves me.”

  “He must be an affectionate bird!” said Oke, throwing grains of corn to the parrot. “Have you found a cure for the King’s malady?”

  “No,” said Ata hastily. “I do not think there is any cure, and I am not troubling about it.”

  Just at this moment the parrot, who had been listening, called out:


  “Charm! charm! Herbs and flowers! Efo and monkey-root!”

  Ata sprang to his feet in a rage, for the parrot had announced the names of the two herbs with which he hoped to cure the King.

  “What! Does this parrot speak?” cried Oke in pretended astonishment. “What were the words he uttered?”

  “He only talks nonsense,” replied Ata, relieved that his rival had not heard the fateful words.

  As soon as Oke left the house, Ata began to mix the herbs so that he could take them to the King early in the morning. But Oke did not wait for morning! He went straight away that very night to the palace, and when he was admitted to the presence of the sick King, he made a low bow and said:

  Oke Pays a Visit to Ata. Page 96.

  “Sire, I have discovered the remedy for your complaint. If Your Majesty will drink a mixture composed of efo and monkey-root, the cure will be certain!”

  The King at once ordered these two herbs to be procured, and the magician stewed them in a pot before the eyes of all the Court, and gave the King some of the concoction to drink.

  The power of the herbs was such that the King was immediately cured, and he sprang up from his bed feeling stronger than ever.

  Next morning, when the second magician arrived with many little vials with which he meant to mystify the Court, he found himself laughed at by everybody, including the King, who was now in perfect health. To his consternation Ata learnt that his rival Oke had cured the King many hours before and had gone home with the reward.

  “And how was the King cured?” asked poor Ata.

  “By efo and monkey-root,” was the reply.

  Then Ata knew that the words of the grey parrot had betrayed his secret, and he resolved to kill the bird when he reached the house. But on his way home it struck him that it might some day be useful to possess such a clever creature. So he spared the bird’s life, and took such care of his pet that the parrot, which had belonged to Oke, now began to consider Ata as its master and to obey and understand him.

  Some time later the King again sent for the two magicians, and informed them that a gold chain which he prized very much had been stolen from the palace by a large ape and carried away into the forest.

  “To anyone who finds out where my gold chain has been hidden, and who also tells me how it may be recovered,” said the King, “I will give a reward not to be despised even by a rich man!”

  “Ah,” said Oke, laughing, “that should not be difficult for me, because I know all the secrets of the animals.”

  “Indeed,” said Ata, smiling also, though he felt far from confident, “it will be an easy matter to discover the secret by means of my charms.”

  And both magicians hastened away—Oke to solve the mystery in the depths of the forest, and Ata to sit at home and think how certain it was that his rival would win the reward, for he himself knew nothing about the creatures of the forest.

  “I am a very unlucky man,” he told his parrot sadly. “I lost the first reward through your talkativeness, and now my own ignorance will prevent me from winning the second!”

  “Send me!” replied the grey parrot. “Send me! Send me!”

  The magician stood up and danced for joy.

  “I have it! I shall win this reward after all, and at last you can be of some use to me, you lazy bird! You betrayed me to Oke by your power of speech, and now in turn you must find out his secret for me. Fly away, my good pet, and listen hard to everything you hear at Oke’s house.”

  Now when the grey parrot flew into Oke’s house and perched on the shoulder of his old master, Oke was delighted and suspected nothing.

  “Wicked bird!” he said playfully. “When I sent you to watch that false magician Ata so long ago, I did not think you would desert me! How happy I am to have you back again, and to know that Ata did not suspect you to be anything but a wild bird, which flew in to him from the forest! Ha! ha! ha! How well we have tricked him.”

  That evening when he was parching corn and ground-nuts, he gave the parrot all the biggest grains, and spent the time very happily with his old pet.

  But the next afternoon, to his astonishment, Ata called to see him, with the excuse that he wished to know the remedy for a certain snake-bite.

  Oke, who knew so much about animals, told him, but could not help feeling surprise that his rival should come to visit him after all their past disagreements.

  Meanwhile Ata, who pretended not to see the grey parrot, began to talk about the reward offered by the King for his gold chain.

  “There is little doubt,” he said, “but that you will carry off this reward also, since you know so much about the forest. Have you discovered where the chain has been hidden by the ape who stole it from the palace?”

  “No,” said Oke hurriedly; “how should I know? I have nothing to do with this mystery.”

  But alas for his secret! The talkative grey parrot came sidling from a corner of the room, crying:

  “Chain! Chain! Chain! King Ape’s neck! Catch ape with chain-trap! Catch ape with chain-trap!”

  Oke started violently, and was about to seize the bird and wring its neck, when Ata said, rubbing his hands with secret satisfaction:

  “What language does your parrot speak? He talks in riddles! Do you understand him?”

  “Indeed I do not!” replied Oke, leaning back in great relief at the denseness of his rival. “He talks sheer nonsense—some jabber-jabber he has learnt from the monkeys in the banana trees! He is the most foolish bird that ever came out of the forest.”

  Soon after this, Ata took his departure, and Oke resolved to go to the King that very evening and tell him what he had discovered.

  But alas again for his secret! On leaving Oke’s dwelling, the second magician set off to run as fast as he could to the palace, where he arrived quite out of breath and asked to be brought before the King.

  “Oh, King!” he said, still panting—so anxious was he that Oke should not have the reward—“I have solved the mystery of your gold chain! The chain has been neither broken nor buried, and the King of the Apes, who loves bright things, wears it about his neck! I saw it gleaming as he climbed from branch to branch in the depths of the forest!”

  “This is good news,” said the King; “but how can we ever recover the chain? The King of the Apes is a fierce monster, and can defend himself against attack, while if he calls for help, the whole tribe of apes will descend and tear my hunters to pieces.”

  “To recover the chain,” replied the magician modestly, “is a simple matter now that I have told you where to find it. All you have to do, is to conceal a trap on the ground; and in the trap you must place another gold chain. When the King of the Apes sees the gold shining, he will have no thought of danger, and will spring down into the trap to get the chain. It will then be an easy thing for your hunters to kill him and recover the stolen chain.”

  The King thought this an excellent idea, and hunters were sent at once to the forest to set the trap for the King of the Apes. Everything fell out as Ata had predicted from the words of the grey parrot. A few hours later the hunters returned in triumph with the monstrous body of the King Ape, wearing still the gold chain round his neck.

  The King put on his chain and rejoiced, while Ata hurried away with the reward.

  Immediately afterwards, the magician Oke arrived at the palace, requesting to see the King, and smiling mysteriously, as if he knew the inmost thoughts of both men and animals.

  What was his consternation to see the King with the famous gold chain safely round his neck, and to hear that his rival, Ata, had gone off with the reward!

  “And how was the chain recovered?” asked the unfortunate magician, and he was told:

  “By setting a trap for the King of the Apes.”

  Then his wrath knew no bounds.

  “My own parrot has given the secret away!” he exclaimed, rushing homewards in a fury. “I thought him clever and fed him with corn until he was as plump as a chicken, and he has served me
this ungrateful trick! I will certainly wring his neck as soon as I reach home.”

  But the grey parrot was cleverer than his master thought. He flew away to the forest before Oke returned, and has never been seen since.

  XXVI. Tortoise and the Cock

  “Hard times indeed!” said Tortoise sadly, when his wife Nyanribo told him one evening that there was absolutely nothing for supper.

  “Not even a little rice?” asked Tortoise plaintively.

  “No,” replied Nyanribo. “Not a taste of stew, not a grain of corn, not a single egg . . . and there is nothing for breakfast tomorrow. Ajapa, my poor husband, I am afraid we shall soon die of starvation!”

  “No, indeed!” said Tortoise briskly. “That shall never happen while Tortoise has a shell on his back. I will find some means of obtaining food. Wait patiently at home for me, and all will be well.”

  With these words he set off to see what he could find. Near by was a farm, and in the farm-yard he could hear a hen clucking to inform all the other fowls that she had laid an egg.

  Tortoise sighed. He was very fond of eggs, and so was Nyanribo, but the farmer and his daughter kept a close watch on the farm-yard, and it was impossible to remove any of the eggs without being seen by them.

  Tortoise watched the Cock, with green-black feathers shining in the sun, walk proudly up and down among the hens, crowing now and again. Just then the farmer’s daughter came out and chose a plump young fowl, which she carried into the house to be roasted for supper. The other hens and the Cock lamented the loss of this poor bird, and as they were complaining Tortoise stuck his head into the yard and said:

  “Oh, but there is far worse to come!”

  “Who are you, and what do you mean?” replied the Cock arrogantly.

  “I am one who sees all that is going on,” said Tortoise not untruthfully, “and I weep to think of what is about to happen to you.”