“We must return to the village at once,” ordered the Chief. Then he, his carrier with the chair, Simon’s uncle and Simon quickly returned to the village and to the Chief’s house.
“Call together all the people of the village,” he ordered. When they were assembled he told every man to fetch his cutlass, then to follow him back to Simon’s farm. The men of the village did so, and when they arrived the Chief told them to start clearing. As soon as they picked up their cutlasses and began to work, the bird started to sing. Throwing down his cutlass every one of them danced.
In the village that night the Chief and his people discussed the problem. There was no other land for Simon and if he and his family were to have food they would have to start planting without further delay.
“Call all hunters,” the Chief cried. When they came he spoke very seriously to them. “Hunting is your job. We shall see how well you hunt.”
The hunters were instructed to go to Simon’s farm and to catch the singing bird. On arrival at the farm they aimed their guns and fired at the bird; the bird flew rapidly from tree to tree and escaped the bullets. They shot their arrows and threw their spears at the bird. Again the bird flew rapidly from tree to tree and escaped harm.
“Shall we, our whole village, never conquer this singing bird?” cried Simon, for he had accompanied the hunters.
Then one young hunter noticed that the bird was perched on a low bough of the tree. Some boys from the village began to throw stones. The bird started to fly to a higher bough but the young hunter, who had crept very close, jumped up and caught the bird by the feet.
“I’ve caught it, I’ve caught it,” announced the young hunter.
“I’m singing, I’m singing,” the bird replied, fluttering its wings. But the magic had left the bird’s voice. It was taken to the Chief’s house.
“We will keep it in a cage,” declared the Chief.
From then on the bird could sing every day, and the people would dance, but only when they pleased. No one was prevented from doing his work, and Simon returned to his farm.
He cleared it, planted his yams, his maize and his cassava, and food for his family was assured for the coming year.
West African Folk Tales Page 12
