The Annotated African American Folktales

by Henry Louis Gates

  Everyone in that town, knowing how true were the sayings of the old man, believed thereafter that the twin babes of Isokah would grow into manhood and become warriors of note and possibly heroes of great renown.

  When they were six weeks old, their mother planted in her garden, a short distance apart, two seeds. With great care she watered the earth about and when the seeds sprouted and became tiny plants, her care for them did not cease.

  As the years passed, Isokah’s two sons grew tall, strong, and pleasing to the eye, like the graceful pine trees around their home. In play, in the hunt, and in deeds of daring, these two boys always took first place among their companions. Meanwhile, the two plants grew into fine trees with beautiful spreading foliage. When Mansur and Luembur were old enough to understand, Isokah took each of them to one of the trees, and said,

  “This, my son, is your life tree. As it thrives, withers, or dies, so you will grow, be in peril, or perish.”

  After that day, Mansur and Luembur [each] watched his own tree with increasing interest and felt for it a loving tenderness when resting under its spreading branches during the heat of the day, or in the cool of the evening, while listening to the strange cries in the jungle; or gazing with wonder at the clear sky with its brilliant stars, and the silver crescent changing nightly into a great golden ball.

  How happy was Isokah as she watched her boys grow into early manhood, and the life trees thrive in strength and beauty with them.

  During this time, Mansur had many strange dreams—dreams of great perils in the jungle, dreams of different lands—but more often he had visions of Yuah, the daughter of Zambay, who was Old Mother Earth, the first daughter of the first father.

  Yuah was said to be beautiful. Her beauty was like the dusk at twilight, when the stars begin to twinkle in the afterglow of the Western sky.

  One day, after Mansur had passed his twentieth year, he said to his mother, “The time has come for me to marry and I am going in search of Yuah, the daughter of Old Mother Earth.”

  Though her sorrow was great when she heard these words, Isokah knew that she could not always keep her son near her. So she called upon Muzimu, a wizard of strange power, and asked him for some magic to help her son, Mansur, in his quest.

  When this was given, she returned and gave it to him, saying, “My son, this is your magic. I shall guard your life tree while you are away and Luembur, your brother, will watch over me.”

  Mansur then put his strong arms around his mother’s shoulders, bowed his head upon her cheek, and gave her his farewell kiss. Then, taking from her the magic, he touched some grass he had plucked from the ground. One blade was changed into a horn, another into a knife, and still another into a spear.

  Before leaving, he called Luembur, saying, “Brother, be ever near mother Isokah, and let no harm befall her.”

  For days and days Mansur travelled. What a picture of natural beauty met his eye everywhere! How verdant was the foliage of the trees, shrubs, and plants of the African plains and highlands; how sparkling the streams that foamed over rocky beds of granite and sandstone, how beautiful was the coloring of the flowers, how gay was the plumage of the birds, how graceful and striking in size were the animals that fled before him as he pushed his way onward to the land of Zambay, the mother of his desired Yuah. When overcome by hunger, Mansur called upon his magic for food.

  At last, the far country of Zambay was reached. Whenever a stranger entered it, he was escorted at once to Zambay, the queen, the all powerful ruler of that land. The usual custom followed, when Mansur was seen striding forward with his spear in hand, horn across shoulder, and knife at side.

  Standing near her mother, Yuah saw the stranger—saw him in his strength and in his early manhood, so lithe in movement and so fearless in bearing. Straightway her heart warmed to him. How happy was Mansur when he beheld this dream-girl as a reality and saw in her eyes, a look of friendly interest that passed into admiration when he recited the story of his travels and the purpose of his visit.

  Three days later, they were married. A fine feast was held, followed by joyous singing and a merry dance. The finest house in the town was given to the bride and groom, where for many months their happiness was complete.

  One day, while idling in his new home, Mansur opened the door of a strange room which he had never noticed. In it were many mirrors, each covered so that the glass could not be seen. Calling Yuah, he asked her to remove the covers so that he might examine them. She took him to one, uncovered it, and Mansur immediately saw a perfect likeness of his native town; then to another, and he saw his mother and his brother, Luembur, sitting in peace beneath his life tree. In each mirror he saw something that carried his memory back to his past life and the country of his birth.

  Coming to the last mirror, larger than the others, Mansur was filled with a strange foreboding. Yuah did not uncover it. “Why not let me look into it, Yuah?” asked Mansur.

  “Because, my beloved one, in it you will see reflected the land of Never Return—from it none returns who wanders there.”

  Now this remark made Mansur very curious, and he longed, as never before, to see this mirror that would picture so strange a land or so mysterious a scene.

  “Do let me see it,” urged Mansur. Yielding at last to his entreaties, Yuah uncovered the mirror, and her young husband saw reflected therein that dread land of the lower world—that unsought place of cruel King Kalungo, of which all men had heard. Mansur looked in the mirror a long time, then he said,

  “I must go there; I must leave you, my dear.”

  “Nay, you will never return; please do not go, my beloved one,” pleaded Yuah.

  “Have no fear,” answered Mansur. “The magic of Muzimu will be my protection. Should any harm befall me, my twin brother, Luembur, will come to my rescue.”

  Now this made Yuah cry and she was very, very sad, but her tears did not move Mansur from his desire and his purpose.

  In a few hours he had departed for the Land of Never Return.

  After travelling many days, Mansur came upon a weird old woman working in the fields. In her eyes, there was mystery; in her presence, there came to him a feeling of awe. Though he knew not then, she was the never sleeping spirit that guarded the secrets of the Land of Never Return.

  Approaching her, Mansur said, “My good woman, please show me the road to the land whence no man returns who wanders there.”

  The old woman, pausing in her work, looked at him as he stood there, so tall and straight. A smile passed over her wrinkled face as she recognized in Mansur one of the true heroes for whose coming she had waited many years.

  Much to his surprise, the old woman, after a long and deep gaze, said, “Mansur. I know you and I shall direct your way, though the task before you is one of peril. Go down that hill to your right, take the narrow path, and avoid the wide one. After an hour’s travel, you will come to the dread home of Kalungo, the Land of Never Return. Before reaching his abode, you must pass a fierce dog that guards his gate, fight the great serpent of seven heads within the courtyard, and destroy the mighty crocodile that sleeps in the pool.”

  These impending dangers did not frighten Mansur. Following the narrow path, he came within a short time to a deep ravine. Through this he walked, head erect, eyes alert, and spear uplifted. Suddenly he observed the outer gate of the Land of Never Return.

  By means of his magic, he passed the fierce dog, and after a severe battle he succeeded in destroying the serpent, that seven-headed monster. Near the pool, he saw the mighty crocodile resting on its bank, and rushed forward to strike him. Then, by accident, Mansur’s magic fell upon the ground, and immediately he was seized by the crocodile and disappeared within his terrible mouth.

  At home, his mother, Isokah, and brother, Luembur, noticed with fear that the life tree of Mansur had suddenly withered.

  “Mother, my brother is in danger. I must go at once in search of him,” cried Luembur.

  Rushing to Muzimu, the wizard, I
sokah procured some more magic, returned home and gave it to Luembur and besought him to go immediately in search of his twin brother.

  As he departed, a great weakness seized her, and supporting herself for a while against the trunk of Luembur’s life tree, she slowly sank to the ground, with a foreboding that she would never again see her sons.

  When Luembur reached the town of Zambay, Yuah was much struck with the resemblance he bore to his brother, and she was overjoyed that he had come to go in search of Mansur. She noticed with pleasure that Luembur also carried the same kind of spear, horn, and knife that Mansur had.

  Yuah showed him the magic mirrors, reserving for the last the fateful one that had caused Mansur to depart for the Land of Never Return.

  After resting awhile, Luembur continued his journey and, as in the case of his brother, came after many days to the weird old woman working in the fields.

  The story of his quest was soon told. After it was finished, she said, “I know you, also, Luembur.” She then gave him the same directions.

  When he reached the gates of the Land of Kalungo, the fierce dog fell before the magic spear of Luembur. Then rushing to the bank of the pool where the mighty crocodile was dozing in the sun, Luembur with one great blow of his spear slew him. Then taking his knife he cut along the under side of the dead crocodile and, strange to state, Mansur jumped out, well and happy.

  Swift as the wind, the twin brothers left the gates of the dread Land of Never Return and travelled upward to the place where the weird old woman worked in the field, under the rays of the glinting sun.

  When she beheld them, she stood erect, a deeper mystery flashed into her age-old eyes, and in her presence, there returned to the brothers, that same feeling of awe, but now more intense.

  Finally she spoke, “Brothers, by slaying the fierce dog, the terrible serpent, and the mighty crocodile, you have released the spirits of the brave, the wise, and the good, who were prisoners in the realm of cruel Kalungo. They may now return to Mother Earth when they desire, and visit the abode of their mortal existence. Your task here below is now finished.

  “You, Mansur, shall be Lightning, that mortals may ever see your swift spear as it darts through the clouds; and you, Luembur, shall be Thunder, that mortals may ever hear and know the power of that flashing spear.”

  With these words, the sleepless spirit of the Land of Never Return touched each of the brothers, and Mansur went to the East and became the swift, darting lightning; and Luembur went to the West and became the loud, pealing thunder.

  In the land of Zambay, when Yuah, through her magic mirror, saw what had happened to the brothers, she cried with much grief. Neither by day nor by night would she be comforted.

  At last her mother, Zambay, said in a gentle and sad voice, “My daughter, when your husband, Mansur, and his brother, Luembur, are angry in their home, amid the clouds, and have frightened men and beasts, here in my land, your beauty and your smile will bring them joy. At such times, your body clothed with many colors, will bend and touch me, your Mother Earth. Go hence, and live with them.”

  Illustration by Albert Alex Smith for “The Twin Heroes: An African Myth.” The Brownies’ Book, April 1920.

  With these words, Yuah went away from the home of her mother, and we see her now as the beautiful Rainbow, after the storm clouds of Mansur and Luembur have passed on their way to the home of The All Father, the Great Sky-Spirit, Anambia.

  Illustration by Laura Wheeler Waring for “Chronicles of Br’er Rabbit.” The Brownies’ Book, October 1920.

  CHRONICLES OF BR’ER RABBIT

  Julia Price Burrell

  Br’er Rabbit and Br’er Pa’tridge went hunting. They brought in a fine little sheep.

  “Now,” said Br’er Rabbit, “who will go get some fire to cook our meat?”

  “You shall go, for you are larger than I, and you can carry more,” declared the little Partridge.

  Said Br’er Rabbit, “You shall go, Br’er Pa’tridge, for you can fly more swiftly than I can run, and we will not wait so long for our feast.”

  Br’er Pa’tridge set off; soon as he was out of sight, Br’er Rabbit fell to work tearing the flesh into pieces convenient for him to carry off—and when Br’er Pa’tridge returned with the fire he found only a few scraggly pieces left. He fairly gasped: “Well! WHERE is our meat, Br’er Rabbit?”

  Br’er Rabbit scratched his chin with his right forepaw—he stared hard at the spot where the meat had been—then with a sudden upward jerk of his naughty head he said:

  “Why, Br’er Pa’tridge, I just turned my eyes towards a queer sound I heard in yonder brush and ’fore I turned me round again that meat been gone! Oh, what shall we do, Br’er Pa’tridge?”

  But without seeming to notice the greedy Rabbit, Br’er Pa’tridge lifted his head and in answer to his call, “Bob-White!” a score of hungry partridges flew to him and they all ate the miserable fragments which Br’er Rabbit had not been able to steal away. As they all flopped over onto the ground, Br’er Pa’tridge cried, “O, Br’er Rabbit, that meat was surely poison. See, all my brothers dying!”

  “Poison meat won’t do for me!” thought Br’er Rabbit. “Let me go fetch that meat I hid away!” and he bounded over the ground, returning with the tender meat which he had meant to eat alone. When he had brought it all, Br’er Pa’tridge said quietly, “Now, Br’er Rabbit, let’s divide equally!”

  And they did.

  BR’ER RABBIT WINS THE REWARD

  Br’er Fox and Br’er Wolf were hired by the King to work in a certain field. Now because the mosquitoes were so many and stung so hard in this hay field the King had had great difficulty in securing workers, so as a spur to the laborers he promised to him who should work longest without heeding the mosquitoes a special reward.

  All three, Br’er Rabbit, Br’er Fox, Br’er Wolf, set to work, each determined to win the reward. How those mosquitoes did bite! Every half minute Br’er Wolf stopped to slap one! Every five minutes Br’er Fox stopped to swat at the troublesome pests!

  What of Br’er Rabbit? Oh, they were not sparing him either, but that little animal is a “schemy” creature! He worked away, and as he worked he talked. Said he, “My old Dad, he haves a plough horse; he black here and here,” and as he said “here” each time he slapped his stinging legs where the mosquitoes were biting—“and,” he went on, “he white all here”—slapping again at the enemy!

  So he continued talking and slapping and working. It never occurred to the King that Br’er Rabbit was killing mosquitoes. It appeared to those who looked that Br’er Rabbit was not bothered.

  He won the reward.

  BR’ER RABBIT LEARNS WHAT TROUBLE IS

  Br’er Rabbit approached the King. “O, King,” he began, “teach me what is trouble. I hear the people talk of trouble, but I have never seen it.”

  Then the King said thoughtfully, “Br’er Rabbit, if you would always be happy, give up this desire of yours to know trouble—for it brings tears and much weeping. Return to the brier patch and be a good rabbit child.”

  But Br’er Rabbit was not so to be put off—and seeing that he was determined, the King slowly brought forth a small tightly covered box.

  “Do not open it until you have almost reached the further end of the open field near the brier patch. There is trouble in this box,” cautioned the King.

  “As Br’er Rabbit ran down the path he thought of his box—he ran faster; as his pace increase, so did his curiosity. He paused a second and held the box to his ear—what was it he heard? he thought. It must be a baby crying. “Hush, baby!” he said, but as the racket continued he thought he would take just the merest peep inside. He turned just to see if anyone were watching. The King was following him.

  Illustration by Laura Wheeler Waring for “The Chronicles of Br’er Rabbit.” The Brownies’ Book, October 1920.

  “Don’t you open that box, Br’er Rabbit!” he cried.

  “Oh, no! no! no!” Br’er Rabbit prevaricat
ed. “I just only looked to see how close behind me you were!”

  Br’er Rabbit ran on—again he paused to listen—and to peep—again the King shouted and Br’er Rabbit refrained. He had run now as long as he could— his curiosity burned him past endurance. He would raise the top and peep inside so quickly that even the King, as he followed, should not notice. His little paw scarcely moved the cover. Oh, wow! if you will excuse me for saying so. “Br-r-r! Bow-wow-wow-wow!!” and “B-r-r-r!” Two hungry hounds burst out and upon poor little Br’er Rabbit, giving him a pretty chase over the fields until he finally reached the welcome brier-patch, worn and breathless. The dogs did not catch Br’er Rabbit—but to this day just the sight of a dog means trouble to Br’er Rabbit.

  HOW MR. CROCODILE GOT HIS ROUGH BACK

  Julian Elihu Bagley

  It was a bleak November afternoon in New York City. To be more exact it was in Harlem. The snow was falling fast, and between the long row of high dwellings on 135th Street thousands of flakes were whirling, swirling about much the same as goose feathers would whirl if dumped from some high building into a rushing wind. The sun had long since hid his face, while the white fleecy clouds of the morning were fast changing into a cold, cold gray. It was too cold for the kiddies to go out. So in the high windows dozens of them could be seen watching the grown-ups hurrying along the street below. Occasionally some one tripped on the sidewalk. Then the youngsters could be seen tumbling back into their houses in an uproar of laughter.

  Among these children was a little curly headed boy named Cless. But Cless had a different purpose from the other boys and girls. He was looking for the letter carrier. For every day Cless received some pretty post card from his father who was then working in a hotel at Palm Beach, Florida.

  Illustration by Laura Wheeler Waring for “How Mr. Crocodile Got His Rough Back.” The Brownies’ Book, November 1920.