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MAMMA’S —
_ BLACK NURSE STORIES
-
‘fA land
In which it seeméd always afternoon.
A land of streams! some like a downward smoke,
Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go ;
And some thro’ wavering lights and shadows broke,
Rolling a slumb’rous sheet of foam below.
Thro’ mountain clefts the dale
Was seen far inland, and the yellow down
Border’d with palm, and many a winding vale
And meadow, set with slender galingale :
A land where all things always seem’d the same!”
—TeEnnyson, ‘The Lotos-EHaters.
Me
‘NNa@d V NO—,,dSQOH LVAUD,, AHL
MAMMA’S
BLACK NURSE STORIES
WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE
BY
MARY PAMELA MILNE-FOME
WITH SIX FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MDCCCXC
TO
MY FATHER
ligne ly lt Si De OE DT, Ls
OF FORT GEORGE, JAMAICA.
A DAUGHTER’S REMEMBRANCE OF
DAYS IN JAMAICA.
PREFATORY NOTE.
THE following pages represent pretty well
what is stated on the title-page; but I
cannot launch my little book without
expressing my grateful acknowledgment
to those West India friends who have
helped me in what has been a most
pleasant task; and can only trust that
what has thus been collected may be
appreciated, not only by those who are
at home in the West Indies and their
Folk-lore, but by others at home in the
viii PREFATORY NOTE.
“old country” who are strangers to the
traditions of the Spanish Main.
I also offer my best thanks to Sir
George Webbe Dasent, D.C.L., and
to his publisher, Mr David Douglas of
Edinburgh, for their kind permission to
incorporate in this volume certain Anansi
Tales which appeared in the Appendix
to ‘Popular Tales from the Norse,’ some
thirty years ago.
M, P. M.-H:
Paxton Hovusz, BERWICKSHIRE,
April 1890.
CONTENTS.
WHENCE THEY CAME,
GLOSSARY OF WORDS,
PAR PAR
ANANSI AND ALLIGATOR, . ; :
BROTHER DEATH, .
THE LADY AND THE BULL, :
THE SNAKE AND THE KING’S DAUGHTER,
THE STORY OF ANANSI AND TIGER, .
THE SNAKE, . : : :
THE AFFASSIA, .
GOAT AND ANANSI,
ANANSI, HIS WIFE, AND TIGER,
THE STORY ABOUT RAT AND CAT,
ANANSI, TIGER, AND GOAT,
GARSHAN BULL, : , : :
THE LADY AND THE LITTLE DOGGIE,
THE KING AND THE PEAFOWL, :
PAGE
30
40
42
46
51
54
56
58
61
63
65
67
70
73
XG CONTENTS.
PAR Tab
REPRINTED BY KIND PERMISSION OF SIR GEORGE
WEBBE DASENT, D.C.L.
THE LION, GOAT, AND BABOON,
THE LITTLE CHILD AND THE PUMPKIN-TREE,
THE KING AND THE ANT’S TREE, . :
THE GIRL AND THE FISH,
THE DANCING GANG,
ANANSI AND BABOON, :
ANANSI AND THE LION,
ANANSI AND QUANQUA, . :
THE BROTHER AND HIS SISTERS, . :
WHY THE JACK SPANIARD’S WAIST IS SMALL, .
THE MAN AND THE DOUKANA TREE, -
THE EAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN,
°
PAGE
81
84
89
91
94
96
99
109
114
121
122
125
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
THE “GREAT HOUSE”—ON A PENN, : Frontispiece
“HE TELL ANANSI ’TORY FINE,” . . To face page 6
A MOUNTAIN HAMLET, . ; : : " n 24
THE HAUNT OF ANANSI, . . . . wn 1 66
STREET IN A WEST INDIAN TOWN —ST
ANN’S, JAMAICA, ; ; : ‘ " n 81
HOME OF A SUGAR-PLANTER, . , " pe D2
WHENCE THEY CAME.
N the West Indies, if you desire to be
told a fairy tale or anything of the
kind, you must ask for Anansi stories.
In old days these were usually related
at local gatherings of black people, such as
weddings or funerals, the latter being, like
wakes in Ireland, equal occasions for
festivity with the former. But the difh-
culty in these days of obtaimg any
information on this subject from a West
India negro will, I fear, scarcely be realised
A
2 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
by the generality of readers. Whether
it is that the great spread of education
causes them to fear ridicule on the part of
white questioners, or that the systematic
discouragement of the clergy of all sects is
beginning to take effect at last, certain it
is that any one seeking to take down tales
from the lips of a negro will have to spend
much time, patience, and persuasion ere the
narrator will cease to say, “‘ Dat foolish-
ness ; wonder Missis car to har dat.”
Yet, all the time, probably that same
old woman will keep the children quiet
with these tales, and the small white
bucera sitting by its nurse will have a
flood of folk-lore wasted on its entertain-
ment, which an elder interested in the
WHENCE THEY CAME. 3
same will vainly endeavour to induce to
flow. Anansi stories, which are those
generally told to children, owe their name
to a mysterious personage who plays a
principal part in most of them—a hairy
old man with long nails, very ugly, called
Brother or Father A-nansi. Although
this word is sometimes spelt Ananzi, I
prefer the former spelling, as I think it
shows the derivation more clearly, as I
shall presently explain.
In some ways Anansi bears a resem-
blance to the Scandinavian Troll or
Scrattel, and the lLubber-fiend of the
English north country: he is said to be
undersized and hairy, and his friendship
is often unlucky, his presents turning to
+ WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
leaves or stones. Like the Rakshas of old
Deccan days, and the demon subjects of
the Cinghalese Devil, he is sometimes very
hideous to look upon, and will go in rags
when he has bags of money hidden away.
His voice, too, is peculiar: he is said to speak
through his nose, and his speech is very
unintellicible, the reason given being that
he talks so much with the beasts that at
)
last he talks ““same as them”; and a negro
story-teller will always give Anansi’s re-
marks, therefore, with an odd indescribable
nasal accent. His character is not unlike
that of the German Reinecke Fuchs, or
the Japanese Avtsuné Fox: he is very
thievish and cunning, and plays tricks like
the jackal in the Hindoo stories, and
WHENCE THEY CAME. 5
generally gets the better of the other an1i-
mals, and of men whom he sometimes be-
friends, but more often dupes and outwits.
He sometimes takes the form of a spider ;
and there is a certain large house-spider
with hairy legs and yellowish stripes, quite
harmless, which it is said to be unlucky
to kill, commonly called Anansi. This
word, like so many terms in use in the
West Indies, comes from the West Coast
of Africa, where the Ashantees have a
word, Ananse, meaning spider.
Another West African word, nan, means
to spin, and there is a somewhat similar
term (Ananisem) for a story, which is not
at all unsuitable when one considers the
way in which a folk-tale is spun by a
6 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
native story-teller. These are generally
old women, but sometimes a man will have
a reputation as a narrator. We had a
coachman, of whom it was said in the
quarters, “he tell Anansi ‘tory fine”; and
a driver on the cattle-pen was equally
renowned.
Tecuma seems to be another name for
Anansi: as my informant expressed it,
‘“ Tecuma one spider, Anansi one Tecuma.
Tecuma big and foolish, Anansi smaller
and more ’cute ;” in short, he always gets
the better of Tecuma, as he does of all the
other creatures. In some tales A-nansi’s
wife is called A-toukama, which also means
spider, and it is probable Tecuma is only
another form of the same.
‘*HE TELL ANANSI ’TORY FINE.” —Page 6.
WHENCE THEY CAME. 7
Besides Anansi stories there are also
what are called Duppy or Jumbi stories.
These relate, however, solely to ghosts.
They haunt particular houses, places, or
roads, maltreating the passers-by some-
times. There is a delightful story of a
Duppy who met with a drunken man rid-
ing home from market, and with a laud-
able objection to intemperance, shook
Sambo off his horse into a muddy pool,
and so belaboured him that he was barely
able to crawl home.
Another Duppy haunted a pasture on
our cattle-pen. He was mysteriously
called the Rolling Calf, and his presence
was said so to alarm cattle that it be-
came impossible ever to leave any in that
8 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE,
pasture at night. I remember, too, a
maid who had been paying a visit to
friends in town, coming home rather late
across a pasture full of cattle, and de-
claring on her arrival at the house that
she had seen a Duppy. I endeavoured
to extract an accurate description which
might have resulted in his portrait here,
but I never got anything except that he
had flaming eyes, and was like a cow,
which last was not improbable.
A more bond-fide ghost was one which
gave an evil name to the old and tumble-
down coffee-works on a certain plantation.
A black workman in old days having been
killed by a fall, said not to have been
involuntary, from the top-floor window,
WHENCE THEY CAME. 9
ever after no one would go near the spot,
except in broad daylight and in company.
An old wrinkled negro, who crept over
from a neighbouring estate and installed
himself in the haunted precincts, among
the damp and mouldy planks and silent
water-wheel, overgrown with a tropical
tangle of fern, was looked upon as un-
canny, and there were dark whispers
that he was an Obi man. He at least
must have been a sceptic with regard to
the evil repute of his haunt, though he
took advantage of it to ensure himself an
undisturbed dwelling-place.
As far as I know, he never did any-
thing more dreadful than steal plantains
for a living; and as a picturesque object
10 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
sitting half-naked under the horse-eye
trees by the river that ran by his door,
he was worth a few bunches surely.
Although Duppies resemble what the
French would call revenants, the Wald
Geist of German and the ghost proper of
English fears, they seem also somewhat to
resemble the Irish and Gaelic fetch, which
presents all the appearance of some human
creature who is far from being dead at the
moment. In one instance, two men were
going to the boiling-house early one morn-
ing. They crossed a cane-piece, and the
story goes they saw a third man, a negro,
passing before them through the waving
cane-tops : he was deaf to any call, and
seemed to disappear within the building ;
WHENCE THEY CAME. 11
but when, a moment after, they also en-
tered, no man or any trace of man was
there. <A sceptic with knowledge of the
negro propensity for stealing sugar might
easily find an explanation of this legend,
so that no doubt, in this case, the pro-
verbial thief was not found lurking among
the pans.
This reminds one of the curious super-
stition prevailing in Martinique, of the
diablesse, a beautiful negress with pierc-
ing eyes, who passes silently through some
lonely cane-piece where men and women
are at work, and whatever man she smiles
upon must arise sooner or later and follow
her — to death, since he is never seen
again. So that if within a day or two
12 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
any hand be missing, his fellows murmur
among themselves that he has been be-
witched by the dzablesse. This super-
stition is apparently akin to that prevail-
ing among the Russian peasants, of the
Baba Yagas, witch-women whose look
wiles a man away to death. In Jamaica
it is said that the wearing of an alligator’s
tooth prevents a person seeing Duppies.
This pretty little amulet is also supposed
to avert ill-luck in love affairs. The line
between Duppies and Jumbies does not
seem very definitely traced, but it seems
to me that Duppies partake more of the
nature of apparitions, both of man and
beast ; and Jumbies, or, as they call them
in the soft Bitaco speech of Martinique,
WHENCE THEY CAME. 13
“ Zombies,” are more of devils or demons,
like those that play such a part in Russian
and Japanese superstition. People who
are out of doors very early in the morning
in tropical latitudes, often feel, in the midst
of the cool freshness, sudden breaths of
hot air—a curious phenomenon I cannot
explain, and which the negroes account
for by saying they are passing by Jumbi’s
fireplace, where he made his fire over-
night.
The beautiful silk cotton-tree, Bombax
ceiba, is supposed to be a favourite haunt
of Jumbi, and it takes a good many
drinks of rum to induce a negro to cut
down one of these trees, as he is con-
vinced some evil will certainly overtake
14 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE, |
him afterwards. And for this a lover
of nature is inclined to bless Jumbi, as
the means of saving many of those grand
kings of the forest with their buttressed
trunks which would otherwise fall, in
common with the rest of the virgin
forest, to the sweeping machete and all-
consuming fire by which the black man
converts what he is pleased to term the
worthless bush into a future provision-
ground, where within a few months will
be seen yams, like Kentish hops, climb-
ing up their poles, or maybe cocos with
gigantic leaves, or perhaps a cane-piece
or banana-field in miniature. Unluckily
this superstition does not appear to influ-
ence sufficiently deeply Master Quashie,
WHENCE THEY CAME. 15
when, as a fisherman, he pockets his dread
of Jumbi’s ire, sacrifices the cotton-tree,
hollows out the trunk, and forms one of
those splendid canoes which one may see
darting about among the purple and
green shallows within the coral-reefs, or
scudding under sail before the wind, laden
with varied cargo of red-gold oranges,
luscious pines, and other fruit and vege-
tables, to sometimes even quite distant
markets.
And now for a word upon another wide-
spread West Indian superstition—Obi or
Obeah. The term has travelled far, and
identified itself with the West Indian
Islands, although it is primarily of Hast
African origin, and means serpent-wor-
16 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
ship. In the old mythology of Egypt
the snake was named Ob, and even now
he is called Obion. But with its migra-
tion to the Spanish Main, and the coming
of the votaries of Obi under Christian
influences (such as they were), it gradu-
ally came more to signify dealings in the
Black Art, and its professors are regarded
somewhat as wise women and wise men
were looked upon in English country
villages, and spay-queans in Denmark or
spae-wives in Scotland, by squire and
peasant alike, some sixty years ago—as
better friends than enemies.
They have usually a lke knowledge of
simple poisons and their antidotes; but I
fear the Obi man often did use his know-
WHENCE THEY CAME. ie
ledge to the same unhallowed murder-
ous end as the modern “moonlghter”
of civilisation uses his knowledge of
steel and iron behind the hedge. Voudow
is said to be merely Obi in full force ; but
whether this is so, I do not pretend to
know. It 1s curious, however, to trace the
worship of the snake withering under the
civilising influence of Christianity, and
leaving the snake with merely the same
uncanny character that he bears all over
the world. Here in these Folk-tales we
have the serpent disguising himself as a
man, and deceiving women (see No. IV.
and No. VI., Part I.) In India there are
similar tales: who does not recollect the
Cobras with their magic powers? In
B
18 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
Japan, for instance, the story of Yamata
no Orochi, the eight-headed serpent who
tries to carry off a maiden; in Russia
there are also lovers who are snakes
disguised ; and in North America, among
the Algonquin Indians and others, ex-
amples might be easily multiplied.
Although now it is very generally
known what strange similarity prevails
among different nations in regard to cur-
rent myths and folk-tales, I cannot for-
bear remarking here that the story of
Anansi making the tiger do duty as his
riding-horse has a curious parallel in one
of the River Amazon Tortoise tales, where-
in the Jaboty or land tortoise, whose réle
is very much that of Reynard the fox
WHENCE THEY CAME. 19
in European tales, behaves in a similar
manner to Teyu the lizard, telling some
neighbours that the lizard was nothing
much, and indeed he made use of him as a
riding-horse. Then when the assertion
is repeated, the angry lizard hastens
to visit the Jaboty, who pretends to
be ill and unable to walk to the neigh-
bour’s, and deludes the lizard into offering
to carry him on his back. Then ensues a
very similar dialogue to that given in No.
Y., which ends in the lizard setting forth
saddled and bridled, and the cunning
tortoise on his back, duly provided with
spurs and whip, — which he does not
scruple to use as they approach the house
of the neighbour, with the triumphant
20 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
exclamation, “Didn't I say Lizard was
my riding-horse?” I think, too, there is
another Amazon folk-tale in which clever
Uncle Cotia (a sort of rabbit) tells the
Deer the Jaguar is his riding-horse, and
successfully outwits the Jaguar accord-
ingly. Readers of Uncle Remus’s tales
of the old cotton-plantation may remem-
ber how Brer Rabbit told Miss Meadows
and the “gals” that Brer Fox was his
father’s riding- horse, and by declaring
himself sick, deluded Brer Fox into sub-
mitting to wear saddle and bridle; when
the sequel is the same as in the previous
tale. The story of the Lady and the
Bull also reminds us of those European
myths, the Roan Bull of Orange, and the
WHENCE THEY CAME. 21
Brown Bull of Norrowa, and of Europa
and the Bull. But upon this point of
view I can no longer dwell.
There is a curious mixture in these
stories of what is evidently taken from
old African traditions, since we find in
them lions, tigers, and monkeys, all un-
known in the West Indian islands. Some
of the descriptions of Anansi bear a
shadowy resemblance to the gorillas, or
the legendary Soko, that half-human and
hairy Man of the Woods of African tradi-
tion; whereas the local setting and scen-
ery essentially belong to the West Indies.
There are the rivers, crossed by narrow
bridges of Inanes, some of them with low-
lying banks, and half choked with big
22 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
white stones; the houses, raised on brick
pillars from the ground, beneath which
congregate pigs, fowls, goats, and dogs,
seeking shelter in this way from the too
powerful rays of the sun; the gaily
decked buggies in which the people drive
to their merrymakings, and the inter-
minably long visits and speeches in
which the negro delights. Nor does the
love of litigation, common among the
negroes, fail to find its illustration.
Anansis opponents bring him to justice.
In the story of Anansi and Alligator, the
facility afforded to Anansi’s thievish pro-
pensities by the kitchen being a separate
building, is apparent to any who may be
acquainted with West Indian dwellings,
WHENCE THEY CAME. 23
where the kitchen stands on the other side
of the yard, and the dishes travel back-
wards and forwards on the heads of the
servants. The Muscovy ducks, too, with
their husky whistling voices, which take
delightful part in the tale of the King
and the Peafowl, may also be seen wad-
dling about many a negro cabin. And the
wharf whence Anansi takes boat, weedy
and moss-grown, running out into the
limpid water, is it not a common object
in a West Indian seaside landscape? since
every estate-owner liked to have his own
wharf at which to lade his droguers with
his sugar and rum. Yet while to those
who know the country these tales bear
a local stamp, I fear to strangers there
24 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
will seem a woful want of scenic descrip-
tion in them. It is not because there is
no scenery to describe. Far from it.
Were a word-painter to arise to do for
the West Indies what G. W. Cable has
done for New Orleans and Louisiana, he
would find no lack of material to work
upon: there are spots that are literally
dreams of beauty —for instance, Ocho
Rios in Jamaica, with its soft -sound-
ing Spanish name, meaning the Eight
Rivers; the little cluster of white and
brown cottages, among waving palm-
trees feathering the shore—even the dirt
and squalor, inseparable from a West
Indian as from an Irish hamlet, looking
almost comfortable in the warm glow
‘LAINVH NIVINOQOW V
WHENCE THEY CAME. 25
of the atmosphere, the white coral sands
stretching down to the edge of the dreamy
sea, where brown rocks and green and
purple lights and shades fade into blue,—
such a blue turquoise tint as is never seen
and scarcely believed in on the paler Eng-
lish shores. And a sea-girt road beneath
a snow-white cliff, tapestried with ferns
in wild luxuriance, such as are painfully
coaxed to drag out a puny existence in
European hothouses. And lovely spark-
ling streams, of which it is said in Jamaica
that whoso drinks must come back to
that verdant land; and the high woods
full of tropical tangle, all scented with
dreamy perfumes. According to the his-
torian Bridges, the very name of the
26 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
island comes from two Indian words—
Chabatian (water) and makia (wood).
Xaymaca, the compound, on the lips of
the Spanish conquerors became Chamakia,
which the English supplanters corrupted
into Jamaica, therefore the land of wood
and water.
For the sake of veracity, in the tale of
Anansi and Goat it is hardly necessary
to explain the apparent taunt of the dog,
to any who have seen the sudden spates
in Highland rivers—or even freshets in
English streams. I have myself seen a
dry river-bed when “down,” as we say
in Jamaica, become impassable within a
few hours.
The want of grace and description about
WHENCE THEY CAME. 27
these Folk-tales seems to be less striking
wherever the Frenchman or Spaniard has
had dominion : in Martinique, for instance,
there seems to be more romance and
graceful sentiment about the negro and
Creole superstitions than in Jamaica, the
ghost stories are more weird and power-
ful, and the expressions used are happier
and more refined. For example, the
“ Zombi-bird”’ in one of the old contes
is described as having his feathers tinted
with the “hues of other days,’ and the
clouds are called the sheep of “le Bon-
Dié.” Perhaps the grace and wit (as I
must, for want of a better word, translate
esprit) of the old French settlers have
left an impression upon their descendants :
28 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
it may be remembered that the charming
Empress Joséphine, Napoleon’s first wife,
wasa Creole. Such romance as the Spanish
occupants of Jamaica may have left be-
sides a few names—for instance, San Jago
de la Vega, which still survives on the
old milestones, for Spanish Town, and
Agua-Alta, now the prosaic Wagwater
river—has been overgrown by the hard
common-sense of the British, a sort of
mental Scotchman hugging the Creole,
—a botanical comparison, the strength of
which will not be lost on any West
Indian.
Or it may be that in the shadow of
the Roman Catholic religion, romance and
superstition have freer growth. I do not
WHENCEHE THEY CAME. 29
for one moment wish to say that Catholic
priests do not with equal zeal to that of
Protestant ministers wage war with super-
stition and witcheraft, Obz and the like.
But these priests are many of them of
superior mental calibre, and are therefore
more indulgent to the credulity of poor
Sambo. As will have been seen, I have
endeavoured to show the local setting of
these Tales; but alas! they lose much by
not being told by Edith or Desdemona,
Quasheba or Queenie, who, with smiling
black countenance and gleaming white
teeth, will drop down before you on the
floor as polished as her face, and sitting
cross-legged with her ample starched
petticoats stiffly spread out, will spin to
30 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
you the prime favourites of the Creole
nursery or kitchen, differing slightly ac-
cording to a more or less lively imagina-
tion. The negro’s quaint broken English,
people new to the country find rather dif
ficult to understand at first, and a short
Glossary has therefore been inserted. It
is curious to note the many idioms that
have dropped out of use in England, and
local Scotticisms that survive in the slow
soft speech of the West Indian Creole ;
—Creole, I may add, since it is a sadly
misapprehended term, signifying a person
born in the West Indies, whether black
or white, and being even applied to ani-
mals and inanimate things.
And now for the old question and
WHENCE THEY CAME. 31
answer before beginning, of story-telling
Das and children in Martinique: Bobonne
fois? Toua fors bel conte.
M. P. M.-H.
Akra,
A ffassia,
Breadkind,
Buccra,
Brar,
Bush,
Cush-cush,
Calabash, .
Dae
Droguer,. .
Fe, .
Lay out,
Machete, .
Ruinate ground,
Yearree,
GLOSSARY OF WORDS.
Hibiscus esculentus, a tree with
edible fruit.
A kind of yam.
Signifies all kinds of yams.
White man.
Brother.
Uncleared land.
A. kind of yam.
Fruit of calabash tree.
Nurse.
Small coasting-vessel.
For.
To hide.
Cutlass used by labourers.
From the Spanish.
Land that has fallen out of
cultivation,
To hear.
ANANSI AND ALLIGATOR.
NCE ‘pon a time Anansi call ‘pon
big Alhgator, for git him a place
for sleep till ar marnin’. Alligator say,
‘A’ right, come in ar house.” Anansi say,
“Brar, me no want for sleep in de
house, me wan’ for sleep in de kitchen.”
“A? right,” say Alligator, “you can.”
Now all dis time, when Anansi and
Alligator was tarking, Alligator Darter
was behin’ de door, so dem har ebery
wud. So when dem har dat Anansi
36 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
was gwine to sleep in de kitchen, dem
went and ketch a lat of ’corpions, for
put in ar de pot, for dem know well
Anansi always sarch de pots. When
Anansi go to bed, him lay down for a
little; when him tink eberybody dey
sleep, him put him han’ into de pot,
when one of de ’corpions bite him. Him
halla, “‘ Lahd!” When Alligator har him,
him say, ‘‘ Brar Anansi, what ar matter ?”
Anansi say, ‘‘ Brar, da fleas dey bite me.”
When him tink Alligator gone asleep,
him put han’ again in de pot; him halla,
“Lahd!” Alligator halla out, say, “ Brar
Anansi, what matter wid you, dey mek
you bawl so?” “Brar Alligator, dey
fleas dey bite so; lahd! dey fleas full you
ANANSI AND ALLIGATOR. 37
kitchen. rar, dey fleas dey are too
much, me can’t ’tand yar.” All dis time
him tief. Alligator Darter yearree [hear].
When him finis’, him say, ‘ Good-by,
brar, me gwine, dey flea dey are too
much.” Alligator Darter yearree Anansi
say, so she broke out go see if Anansi
tief de egos. When she go look, she
no see one, so she go tell her fader. An’
her fader get up an’ run arter Anansi.
But Anansi, dis time, was near de sea.
As Anansi go ’pon a wharf, yearree Alli-
gator blow shell. He say, “’Top dar,
fella Anansi!” As Anansi har so, him
see de boatman not far from him, so
him say, “Boatman, look yar, if you
tek me ‘crass de sea, I got a praperty,
38 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
an’ me gib you half.” De boatman say,
Sone right.” Dem get in ar de boat, an’
as dey get out ar sea, Anansi see Alligator
‘pon de wharf. ‘“’Top,” Alligator halla out,
“’top dar, fella Anansi.” Den Anansi say,
“Pull fast, boatman, haby rain dere ‘pon
sea.’ As Alligator see dem tek no notice,
him t’row himself in de sea and swim
arter dem. But de boat was took quick,
an’ lef’ him. As de boat get ’pon oder
side, Anansi jump out "pon land an’ say
to de boatman, ‘Me go an’ tell my fader
dat ar ’tranger come.” De boatman said,
“A’ right.” So Anansi went in ar him
fader, him tell him his ’tory, an’ tell him
dat if de boatman or Alligator come, must
tell dem dat you dunno way [where] me
ANANSI AND ALLIGATOR. 39
dey, because me gwine go clim’ a tree.”
As Anansi could go out, so in come de
boatman and ask Anansi fader way An-
ansi dey. Anansi fader say him dunno.
When de boatman gane, Anansi clim’ ’pon
anoder tree. Just as him go up him see
big Alligator dey come. As Alligator
come under de tree, so Anansi say, “‘ See
me yar, Brar Alligator?” Alligator say,
“Tf I don’t see Anansi, I never live in ar
house again, but live in ar water.” And
Alligator look and look; an’ dat de reason
why Alligator lb in ar water. End of
tory.
BRAR DEAT’ (BROTHER DEATH).
NANSI always go "bout look fe vittles,
an’ one day he go tief one man
vittles; so car home de vittle an’ bile
dem—an’ he don’t gib de wife nor pic’ny
none. So when he eat it done, he gwine
back fe more. When he comin’ back, in
de way he halla out, “See, ketch dem
pieny, put him up ar loft, Brar Deat’ da
come.’ An’ de wife say, “What you
say? wash pot, put ar fire?” Anansi
say, “You no yearree [hear], yo darn’d
fool. Ketch dem pic’ny, put dem a loft,
BRAR DEAT’ (BROTHER DEATH). 4]
Brar Deat’ da come.” So when Anansi
come in ar house, him wife tell him, ‘“‘ Me
tink say you telling me fe ter wash pot,
put ar fire.” Den Anansi go up in de
loft an’ find de pic’ny heng up from de
loft. One of de pic’ny drop fust; Brar
Deat’ him stan’ up an’ ketch him. De
tidder one den say dem han’ tired; him
drap down, an’ Brar Deat’ tek him. Den
de wife him han’ tired wid heng fum de
roof, an’ him fall down. Brar Deat’ tek
him. Meanwhile Anansi call out to Brar
Deat’, ‘ Look da yander, see one sumting
da come!” An’ whilst Brar Deat’ ben
lookin’, Anansi shripple down—gane—an’
Brar Deat’ don’t ketch him !
Jack man doord, I don’t want more.
DE LADY AN’ DE BULL.
NE bull da court one n’young lady, but
de n’young lady don’t know say ar
bull, because he look like ar man. De
lady cook him brokfast fe de little boy
car out fe de genleman. When de lilly
boy go dere, he see him dere, pon n’yam
grass. Den de lilly ‘boy halla out, ‘‘ Come
to you, sah.” An’ de bull ’tretch hisself,
shub out his harns, an’ turn back into ar
somebody. Him come, him h’eat, lef’ de
plate den fe de boy c’ar dem home back.
DE LADY AN’ DE BULL. 43
De boy go tell him missis, say, “‘ Missis, da
genleman da court you, ar no somebody,
ar cow.” An’ de lady beat de boy, an’
commence cuss [scold] him. Nex’ day
again, de boy de brokfast c’ar, when de
pic’ny him see de bull feedin’ as ’trong as
eber. Den de boy hide behind tree, see
ar wat he da do. Den he halla fe him,
“Come to you, sah.” An’ de bull come
out, ’tretch hisself, so, dis way an’ dat, an’
turn back in ar somebody; him h’eat
brokfast same as eber. Den de boy galouf
home, tell de missis, an’ she beat him an’
dribe him away. De tird day, he car
brokfast again, an’ hide behind tree, so
watch him, and same ting go on. He
tell de missis again, but she don’t cuss
44 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
him dis time. Ar nex week ar de
weddin’. So de weddin’ go on, an’ all
de king an’ genlemans was ax to dis
weddin’, So de lady was married de
day ; an’ when dey was gwine ’pon dinner-
table, de bull da ’pon table, an’ him cry
out for headach, an’ tek him _packet-
hankercher, put ‘pon de head so; an’ all
de while he dar cry fe de head, de harn
dey was growin’ out of de forehead
morn’more; an’ de boy took an’ sang a
song he did hear de bull sing when time
he was feedin’ in ar pasture. Den de
bull de ’pon Moo, an’ jump up, run ‘way,
an’ turn in big cow. Den all gellop after
him, ketch him, and kill him same time ;
an’ all de people blame de lady, say, “If
DEOUADYS AN ADE BULL: 45
he ben tek counsel wid de boy, dat would
nebber have happen.” An’ de meanin’ is,
if anybody warn you ’pon anyting, you
mos always belieb dem !
_Jack man doord, I don’t want more.
DE SNEAKE AN’ DE KING'S DARTER.
NCE upon a time de* King hab two
beautiful darters ; so de Sneake was
passing one day an’ saw de darter, beau-
tiful white young lady; an’ he went away
an’ tole his fam’ly “bout her, and so he
said, ‘I gwine ter buy a dandy shuit;
I want a dandy trosers, a dandy jarket,
an’ a dandy white hat. I gwine ter buy
a dandy cayriage, an’ I gwine ter get a
dandy coachman ter dribe me ter dat
dandy yard where de King lib.” So he
DE SNEAKE AN DE KINGS DARTER. 47
did; he got all dese tings, he went to
dis yard. An’ when de King saw him
comin’ he said, “ Here comes a beautiful
carriage!” An’ when it drove up to de
door de King said, ‘ Walk in!” an’ he
did, for he tink de Sneake ar man. An’
de Sneake say, “All right.” An’ de lady
went and get a chair for him, and say
he such a handsome man, an’ she so glad
to receive him. He took de chair and
set down, an’ say to de fader, “I intend
marry you darter.” An’ de fader say,
“Won't you tek aff you hat?” An’ he
say, “No, I is a man what accustomed
to pain in my head.” So dey did not
bother him to ask him to tek it aff. So
de Sneake sit down an’ tark an’ tark an’
48 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
tark to de young lady, an’ ask if she
would accept of him to marry her. De
young lady say ‘‘ Yes,” an’ de Sneake say
to de King, “If you will accept of me
marry you darter, I promise to give her
a gold sovereign to-day.” An’ de young
lady say, “ But den I will have you tek
aff you gloves.” An’ de Sneake say, ‘“ No,
my lady, de cold will wrinkle my finger.”
De lady went into de room and say to
de King, “Fader, I don’t know what to
do; ’pose I marry dis young man, he won't
tek aff hat, he won’t tek aff gloves; what
mus’ I do?” An’ de fader say, “‘ Well,
IT hear he a very rich man; but what his
name?” De lady went out an’ ask him,
“What you name, please?” An’ de
Sneake say, ‘My name ar Great Brit-
DE SNEAKE AN’ DE KINGS DARTER. 49
annia. (Dat de name de Sneake gib
himself.) So den de King set down his
name and say, “ You mek up you mind
marry him?” An’ de young lady say,
ieee, He say, “All right.” So when
de young lady went in de room she say
his name Great Britannia, “ But I fear
of him, for I want to see his head.” An’
de fader ask Sneake to tek something to
drink. An’ he would not, an’ de fader
very glad to tink dat de genleman dat
gwine to tek his darter don’t drink.
When he fine de King would persuade
on him to drink, he say he go now, he
stay lang enough. An’ so he went away
an’ write de lady a beautiful lang letter
to say she mus’ prepare for de weddin’.
De day ob de weddin’ he sen’ de carriage
D
50 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
for her, an’ best man an’ bridesmaid an’
eberyting. He went to de church an’
marry her, but he don’t take aff his hat.
He tell de parson same what he tell de
fader, how he troubled with pain in de
head. He marry de young lady, he tek
her home, an’ de papa say, “Kiss her, —
let me see.’ An’ when he kissed her
de hat drap aff, an’ de forked tongue
hang out, he didn’t hab no mouth to kiss
her, an’ de lady faint, an’ eberybody run.
De fader send an’ tek away de poor lady ;
an tek away de house, de beautiful house,
an’ eberyting from de Sneake, and den
shoot him dead. So dat why, when you
see a Sneake in ar house, ebery one shoot
it, because it a deceiving thing!
THE STORY OF ANANSI AND TIGER.
HERE was a certain house in a town
dat Anansi and Tiger wan’ to visit.
When Anansi go, him tell de fambly ob
de house, say dat Tiger was his fader fus’
riding-horse. So when Tiger go back, de
people den tell Tiger what Anansi say.
Well, Tiger say he must har from Anansi,
so Tiger go home an’ ask Anansi. Anansi
say dat ‘Im neber say so. Tiger say,
“Come, let us go to justice.” Anansi
opint ‘im a day. When de opinted day
52 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
come, Anansi fallen sick. Tiger say,
“You mus’ go, Anansi.” He said, “ Brar
Tiger, I no able walk.” Tiger say, “I
will car’ you on my back.” Anansi said,
‘“ Brar Tiger, you mus’ put dat lll’ some-
ting dem call saddle, dat when me gwine
to fall down me can ketch up.” Well,
Tiger put on saddle, im say again, “‘ You
mus’ put on dat lll’ someting dem call
bridle, dat when you gwine to fall down
me can ketch you up. ‘Tiger put on
bridle. He said again, ‘You mus’ mek
me put on dat lill’ someting dem call ’pur,
and mek me hole dat someting dem call
horsewip for dribe fly when dem come fe
pitch ’pon you.” Tiger say, “All you
requier vou shall hab, but go you mus’
THE STORY OF ANANSI AND TIGER. 53
to-day.” So Anansi put on eberyting he
wanted on Tiger, an’ then mounted on.
Just as Tiger want ter walk a lll’ fast
Anansi say, “Oh lahd! Brar Tiger, me
ober weak, me da go fall down,” untell
when he nare de town where ‘is frends
are. He put in whip an’ ’pur to Tiger
an’ sing out, ‘‘ What me tell you? me no
tell you, say Tiger is me fader fus’ riding-
horse?” an’ ‘im des ride up to de door an’
tell a boy to tek ’is horse, an’ as "im gane
inside Tiger tek ’is walk ’trate way ter de
wood. End ob ’tory.
THE SNEAKE (SNAKE).
ERE ben one Sneake; him disguise
himself into man ter go marry one
gal. Den when him go get married, him
go bara boot an’ hat an’ jarket’ an’
trosers. Den him send fe any amount 0’
ego fe mek cake, an’ when night come
him go suck out ebery bit ar de egg.
When him marry done, him gallang in
ar buggy wid him wife; den all de people
who him bara de clothes from, lift dem
voice ter halla arter him, ‘‘Sneake, gib
THE SNEAKE (SNAKE). 55
me me boot den! Sneake, gib me me
hat an’ me trosers, gib me me jarket!”
Den him well an’ frighten tey [until] him
clothes drap aff, an’ him turn back into
a Sneake ; an’ de woman him frighten tey
him drap down dead !
Jack man doord, I don’t want more.
DE AFFASSIA.
ERE was once a man, who hab plenty
childern ; him was lazy to pieces, an’
would no work ’pon estate, by [because]
him go strain hisself. So him go ar bush,
look for a ruinate ground to dig h’old yam.
When him bring home de yam, den he no
want de wife and pic’ny hab none. Den
dey ax him, “A what dey call dis yar
yam?” Him say, ‘Who don’t (know)
name, don’t (want) n’yam; who (knows)
name,(hab) n’yam.” But by de fambly don’t
DE AFFASSIA, 57
know de name, he h’eat up hebery piece.
So de biggest son he go ar groun’ pick two
akra,foller de fader, an’rub split akra where
de ole man walk. Den he go hide hisself.
When de fader wid de breadkind he been
dig come, him two foots get ’way from
him—bram ! down fall fe de head de load
yam. “ahd! lahd! me affassia drap
from me!” Den de son yearree de word,
an’ run quick home tell de moder and
pie'ny what de n’yam name. So when de
fader him breadkind done, he say, ‘‘ Now,
who don’t name, doant nyam; and who
name, n’yam!” Den de whole fambly
bawl out, ‘‘ Affassia! affassia!” and mek
after de pot; so eat n’yam ebery bit, lef’
none.
GOAT AND ANANSI
NE day Dog and Goat been go walk,
rain ketch dem; so dem call da Brar
Anansi corner house. Dog stand sturdy,
but Goat mind rain, so da knock ’im foot
and say, “Baa! baa!” Den Anansi go
yearree dem. Anansi say da Goat and
~ Dog, and say, ‘““O Breder, shame at you!
rain da come you lef’ you house, come
inside my house.” But Dog and Goat
know what a man Anansi is, dey ’fraid
of ‘im. Howsoeber, dem go to de door.
Anansi tek up him fiddle an’ begin to
GOAT AND ANANSI. 59
play musick. Rain come; how a man
get meat? Dog say, “ Me ’pend pon me
four foot.” Goat say, “Me can’t run, but
me comy.” Anansi play so till ‘1m see
dey won't come in fe dance. Den ‘im
mek arter dem. Dem run till dem go to
one riber. Dog swim ober; Goat ’fraid
fe de water, im turn into white ’tone,
lie down by ar riber-side. Anansi come,
‘imself was as much ’fraid fe de water.
Den Dog call to ‘im, “If you want me,
tek da white ’tone you see side of you,
fling it to knock me an’ break me foot,
an’ when de riber dried you come tek
me an’ gnaw me.” So Anansi tek de
white ‘tone an’ fling arter Dog fe knock
him down. But when ‘im fling ‘im, ‘im
60 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
no know dat ar was n’young Goat. Goat
drap t’oder side. Goat say, ‘ You want
break me neck.” Anansi say, “ Lahd!
look how me trow ’way meat!” But
when de riber dry Anansi follow dem.
By dis time Dog get cold, so ‘im gone
7ome. But Goat hab craving, break big
bundle of green bush, cover ‘imself wid
da. Anansi come, see de green bush da
walkin’, an’ say, ‘“ Lahd! me neber see
tree walk!” so ‘im follow till Goat get
‘most to im house. Den Goat turn roun’,
see “im. Den Goat mek a run. So
Anansi find out, say, “Da Goat!” Den
‘im fling ‘im cutlass an’ cut off piece ob
Goat tail, and dat mek you see why Goat
hab ’tump ob tail.
ANANSI, HIS WIFE, AND TIGER,
NANSI he go find vittles fe him famly
in ar wood. Tiger fill him bag wid
ashes an’ bore hole in de bag. Anansi
say, “Brar Tiger, mind me wife an’ me
children tey me come back.” Tiger say,
“Me will mind you house well.” Den
when him go ‘long, de ashes dey drap out.
Den Tiger follow Anansi, begin to ketch
wild beasts in ar de wood. An’ when
him see Tiger him clim’ one tree, lef’ de
bag on ar ground. Den Tiger say, “ Hi,
62 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE,
Brar Anansi, me tink you say you go
kill wild beast an’ wild meat, an’ what
mek you trick so?” Den Anansi vex
an’ come down aff de tree, so him an’
Tiger ketch fight, an’ Tiger kill Anansi.
So him cut him up and tek him to him
wife, an’ tell im dis ar de wild meat, an’
dat Anansi ’way in wood. An’ all de
while it Anansi cut up in bag.
THE STORY ABOUT RAT AND CAT.
AT and Cat was very good fren’, but
wheneber de Cat put down anyting
an gone out, de Rat gnaw ‘im. An’
when de Cat come home an’ ax him ’bout
it, “im say ‘im no know; so, till one day
dem was invited to a dance. So dem
propose fe dance, an’ dem bile big pot
full of rice to have dinner before dem
go. So when dinner ready dem gnaw |
"im, an’ lef’ some ob de rice fe to-morrer.
Den dress demself an’ away fe de dance.
When dem get a good way from de house
64 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
Rat say, ‘‘Lahd! Breder Puss, me lef’
me pus [purse| wid de house.” Puss say,
‘“No min’, me ab enuf money for we
1)
two. But Rat say, ‘No, ebery man
mus’ depen’ pon you own packet [ pocket.”
But by dis time ‘im ab a desire fe go
onaw in de rice. So de feller turn back
an’ tell ‘im fren’ fe wait fe ‘im. Puss
wait and wait tey ar no seem da come.
‘“T will tek a bet Rat ar gone gnawin’
de rice we lef’.” Den Puss turn back,
den im har de Rat in ar de pot, “crep,
crep, crep.” Pus jus’ walk up softly an’ lay
out in de barn. Den de Rat say, ‘“ No,
man, dat is not fair.” Puss say, ‘‘ Quite
fair enuf.” So dat mek you see Puss an’
Rat agree till dis de way ob de ting.
ANANSI, TIGER, AND GOAT.
NCE ‘pon a time Anansi, Tiger, an’
Goat, with her little ones, lib to-
gether in ar house. Anansi lived up in
ar roof, Tiger inside, an’ Goat under de
house. At last, howeber, dey quarrel.
Tiger say Anansi mek dust, an’ Goat
mek dirt, he want de house all to himself.
Den Goat say she will go ‘way, an’
Anansi say he will go too. So dey
went, an’ presently dey har Tiger comin’
arter dem, Grum! grum! grum! An’
E
66 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
dey come to a riber where ar great many
white ‘tones lay on de bank and in ar
de water. Anansi change Goat an’ her
little ones into ’tones an’ t’row dem ’crass
to de oder side. An’ soon as ’tone touch
de ground, it turn in ar goat again an’
run mm ar de bush. But Tiger come
nearer and nearer, Grum! grum! grum!
Jes’ as Anansi t’row de last ’tone Tiger
come up. When he see he no get Goat he
very angry, an’ say he eat Anansi. But
Anansi t’row him thread ’crass de riber
same as a bridge an’ so get away, an’ de
Tiger was lef’—Grum! grum! grum!
‘ISNVNV dO LNOVH FHL
GARSHAN BULL.
NE little boy going to school ebery
day, he going har dem say, “Oh,
it mek so harm!” When he gone home
he tell his grandma, so de grandma roast
three Johnny cake, gib him in one bag.
Den she tell him, say he must go to one
place where de Garshan Bull hb. So he
go up a tree and holla, ‘Garshan Bull,
Garshan!” Den de Garshan stop, say,
“T har a voice I neber har yet.” Den ‘im
come wid run an’ run slick ’pon tree, tey
68 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
it nearly fall down on ar ground. Den
de boy tek one of de Johnny cakes an’
stick ’pon bull arm; so de arm pop off,
an’ de Garshan Bull mad, an’ buck ’pon
tree. De boy tek de oder Johnny cake,
stick ‘pon de oder arm, pop off all two,
and bull lef’ wid no arm; den he begin
fight de tree again. De boy tek out de
oder Johnny cake, lef’ none. Den he
knock him in de back of him neck, kill
him dead. De boy come down off ar
tree, cut off him golden tongue, an’ car’
it to de king. When he send it up, de
king say, “Who kill de Garshan Bull
shall marry my darter.” So dis boy
him destroy de bad bull who kill plenty
black people. So he married de king’s
GARSHAN BULL. 69
darter, and de Anansi pick up all de little
bits and say him kill de bull, an’ de debbel
run away wid de ’Nansi.
Jack man doora, I don’t want more.
DE LADY AN’ DE LITTLE DOGGIE.
NCE ’pon a time a genelman was in
love with two sisters, an’ he married
one; an’ afterwards dey had a lil’ baby.
De wife complain of being sick one day, so
she went to bed. When she wake nex’
marnin’ her sister tole her dey was a
demon in de well, an’ she went down
in de well. But dere was no demon.
But as she was comin’ up back, de sister
push her down. Den her sister went
in ar de house an’ tek charge of de hus-
DESLADY AN DEVLITTLE DOGGIE. 71
ban’ an’ de baby. Arter a Iill’ time, de
husban’ say, “‘Gib me some tea;” an’ she
went an’ put laud’num in it, an’ gib to
de husban’. So him soon fall asleep.
Arter a time, when de night fall, de
wife ghost come up out ar de well. An’
she went in de house an’ ring de bell, an’
a little doggie open de do’, an’ she say [or
rather sang as follows | :—
To be drawled slowly.
a ee ee = ee
‘“Where is my husband, my little dog - gie?”
——————————
SS See aero
‘‘Up-stairs a-sleep, my fair la - dye,”—etc.
“ Where is my sister, my little doggie?”
“‘ Up-stairs asleep, my fair ladye.”
[And always to the same tune. |
72 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
«¢ Where is my baby, my little doggie?”
“ Up-stairs asleep, my fair ladye.”
“Will you bring me my baby, my little doggie?”
“‘Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!”
‘“‘ Will you bring me de bath, my little doggie?”
‘Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!”
‘¢ Will you bring me de soap, my little doggie?”
“Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!”
“Will you bring me de towel, my little doggie?”
‘Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!”
‘Will you bring me de powder, my little doggie?”
‘Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!”
“Will you tek back de tings, my little doggie?”
“Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!”
Last time.
Jie aa ieee Leann Macsaeea
a ————
‘Good - night to you, my little dog- gie,”
sista ie nianer ee eaeae Besesiiae See ae Saas
SSS FeEne Poel Sea eae wk peeccrone
= SS
*‘Good-night to you, my fair la - dye.”
An’ she go ’way jes’ as de day break.
DE KING AND DE PEAFOWL.
NE day once ’pon a time de king hab
a party ob ladies an’ genelmen. An’
arter de party de band was ter come an’
play. But de fiddler was took sick, so dey
could not dance. So de king said, “I
am gwine ter sen’ ober ter my friens an’
ask dem ter come an’ sing.” So he sen’,
an’ de genelman say he very glad, an’ his
famly was Dog, Peafowl, and Tiger. So he
sen’ Missis Duck fus, an’ dey said, ‘‘ Can
you sing? let me har you voice.” Dey put
74 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
her in a rocking-chair ’pon de platform, an’
de Duck say, ‘“‘ Hahh! hahh!” an’ den he
say, ‘ Dat will nat do. Sen’ for Dog.” An’
dey took her an’ put her in a coop, an’ all
de ducks come round an’ ask to have her
let out, an’ say, “ Hahh! hahh! hahh!”
, an’ tole him dat if he
fin’ a salt beef-bone in ar de road, he mus’
Den dey sen’ for Dog
not pick it up, by it mek him rough in his
troat. So Dog did not pick it up, but pass
it ; but arter when he go, his voice did not
suit neither. Dey tole Dog to sing, an’
he said, “ How! how! how!” An’ de king
say, “ Don’t wan’ a man ter ask me how—
he will not do.” Dey saw a fowl coming,
—‘Can you sing?” An’ de fowl say
“Kal ka! ka!” an’ dey said, “Dat will
DE KING AND DE PHAFOWTL. 75
not do,” an’ dribe de fowl ’way. De cock
came in arter, an’ de cock said, ‘‘ Coqueri-
cou, an’ dey said, “De king don’ wan’
ter know when de daylight, sah!” De
kino* came in an’ said, ‘All dese people
cannot sing, dey will not do.” Dey sen’
Tiger, an’ dey said, “ You must not pick
up a big salt beef-bone in ar de road.”
An’ de Tiger did pick it up, an’ Tiger
could not sing, an’ said, “Grum! grum!
- grum!” ‘Dat voice is wuss dan all,
dat voice will not:do.” Den sen’ aff for
Peafowl, but Peafowl would not go. Dey
went back ter dinner, all de people went
back to dinner, an’ when dey were at
dinner in a large house, de Peafowl came
in an’ sing—
76 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
SSS ee
- kale an’ ivry, Mi - kale an’ ivry, Mi-
kale an’ ivry, Mi-kale an’ ivry, Why-ou, why - ou,
%
aS SSSI
why - ou, why -ou, why-ou wife gwine ter die.
Den de genelmen jump up and say,
‘Hullo! what dat?” De king say, “Sing
again, my pritty lll’ bird,” an’ den de Pea-
fowl sang, (as before) ‘ Mikale an’ iv’ry,
Mikale an’ ivry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, Mikale
an’ ivry, whyou, whyou, whyou, whyou,
whyou wife gwine ter die.” “ What dat?
what dat? what dat?” dey say, an’ de
bird den settin’ on de tree sing, “ Mikale
an’ ivry, &c. De king say, “Sing again,
DE KING AND DE PHAFOWL. 77
—_
you pritty lll’ bird. You dress shall be
tipped with blue, an’ you shall hab a
beautiful field of corn in a present.” An’
de bird sang again better when he har
dat, *‘ Mikale an’ ivry, Mikale an’ iv’ry,
Mikale an’ iv'ry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, whyou,
whyou, whyou, whyou, whyou wife gwine
ter die.” De king jump up an’ call de
buggy, an’ jomp in an’ tek de Peafowl
in, an’ all de horses was richly decked,
an’ all de company very fine, dey dribe
de Peafowl home, an’ dat why de Peafowl
hab such a beautiful dress.
Jack man doora, I don’t want more.
Beas bell
(By KIND PERMISSION OF SIR GEORGE WEBBE DaSsENT, D.C.L.)
.
‘voIVNv[ ‘SNNV LS—NMOL NVIGNI LSM V NI LAAULS
THE LION, GOAT, AND BABOON.
LION had a Goat for his wife. One
day Goat went out to market, and
while she was gone, Lion went out in the
wood, where he met with Baboon, who
made friends with Lion, for fear he would
eat him, and asked him to go home with
him; but the Lion thought it would be
a good chance, so he asked Baboon to go
home with him and see his little ones.
When they got home, Baboon said to
the Lion, “‘ Why, you have got plenty of
F
82 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
little goats here.” The Lion said, ‘“ Yes,
they are my children.” So the Baboon
“said, “If they are, they are lhttle goats,
and they are very good meat.” So the
Lion said,.‘‘ Don’t make a noise; their
mother will come presently, and we will
see.” So these little goats took no notice,
but went out to meet their mother, and
told her what had passed. Their mother
said to them, ‘‘Go back, take no notice,
and I shall come home presently and do
for him.” So she went and bought some
molasses, and took it home with her.
The Lion said, “Are you come? what
news?” ‘“QOh!” she said, ‘good news;
taste here.” He tasted, and said, “It’s
very good—-it’s honey.” And she said,
THE LION, GOAT, AND BABOON. 83
“No, it’s Baboon’s blood; they have been
killing one to-day, the blood is running
in the street, and every one is carrying
it away.” ‘The Lion said, “ Hush! there
is one in the house, and we shall have
fmm) At this the Baboon rushed off,
and when they looked for him he was
‘gone, and never came near them again,
which saved the little goats’ lives.
THE LITTLE CHILD AND THE
PUMPKIN-TREE.
HERE was once a poor widow who
had six children. One day when
she was going out to look for something
to eat, for she was very poor, she met
an old man sitting by the river-side. He
said to her, ‘Good morning.” And she
answered, ‘“‘Good morning, father.” He
said to her, “ Will you wash my head?”
She said she would; so she washed it,
and when she was going away, he gave
LITTLE CHILD AND THH PUMPKIN-TREE. 85
her a “‘stampee ” (a small coin), and told
her to go a certain distance, and she
would see a large tree full of pumpkins ;
she was then to dig a hole at the root
of the tree and bury the money, and
when she had done so, she was to call
for as many pumpkins as she liked, and
she should have them. So the woman
went and did as she was told, and she
called for six pumpkins, one for each
child, and six came down, and she carried
them home. And now they always had
pumpkins enough to eat, for whenever
they wanted any, the woman had only
to go to the tree and call, and they had
as many as they hked. One morning
when she got up she found a little baby
86 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
before the door, so she took it up, and
carried it in, and took care of it. Every
day she went out, but in the morning
she boiled enough pumpkin to serve the
children all day. One day when she
came back she found the food was all
gone. So she scolded her children and
beat them for eating ijvallsup lhe
told her they had not taken any—that
it was the baby; but she would not
believe them, and said, “ How could a
little baby get up and help itself?”
But the children still persisted it was
the baby. So one day when she was
going out, she put some pumpkin in a
calabash, and set a trap over it. When
she was gone, the baby got up as usual
LITTLE CHILD AND THE PUMPKIN-TREE. 87
to eat the food, and got its head fastened
in the trap, so that it could not get out,
and began knocking its head about, and
crying out, “Oh, do loose me! for that
woman will kill me when she comes back.”
When the woman came in, she found the
baby fastened in the trap, so she beat
it well, and turned it out of doors, and
begged her children’s pardon for having
wronged them. Then after she turned
the baby out, he changed into a great
big man, and went to the river, where
he saw the old man sitting by the river-
side, who asked him to wash his head,
as he had asked the poor woman. But
the man said, “ No, he would not wash
his dirty head;” and so he wished the
88 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
old man good-bye. Then the old man
asked him if he would have a pumpkin,
to which he said, “Yes;” and the old
man told him to go on till he saw a
large tree with plenty of pumpkins on
it, and then he must ask for one. So
he went on till he got to the tree, and
the pumpkins looked so nice, he could
not be satisfied with one. So he called
out, “Ten pumpkins come down,” and
the ten pumpkins fell on him and crushed
him,
THE KING AND THE ANT’S TREE.
HERE was once a king who had a very
beautiful daughter, and he said who-
ever would cut down an ant’s tree he
had in his kingdom, without brushing off
the ants, should. marry his daughter.
Now a great many came and tried, but
no one could do it; for the ants fell out
upon them and stung them, and they
were forced to brush them off. There was
always some one watching to see if they
brushed the ants off. Then Anansi went,
90 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
and the king’s son was set to watch him.
When they showed him the tree, he
said, ‘Why, that’s nothing; I know I
can do that.” So they gave him the
axe, and he began to hew; but each blow
he gave the tree he shook himself, and
brushed, saying all the while, “ Did you
see me do that? I suppose you think
I am brushing myself, but I am _ not.”
And so he went on till he had cut down
the tree. But the boy thought he was
only pretending to brush himself all the
time, and the king was obliged to give
him his daughter.
THE GIRL AND THE FISH.
HERE was once a girl who used to
go to the river to fetch water, but
when she went she was never in a hurry
to come back, but stayed so long that
they made up their minds to watch her.
So one day they followed her to the river,
and found, when she got there, she said
something [the reciter forgets the words].
And a fish came up and talked to her; -
and she did not like to leave it, for it
was her sweetheart. So they went next
92 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
day to the river to see if the fish would
come up; for they remembered what the
girl said, and used the same words.
Then up came the fish immediately, and
they caught it and took it home, and
cooked it for dinner; and a part they
set by, and gave it to the girl when she
came in. Whilst she was eating, a voice
said, ‘Do you know what you are eat-
ing? J am he you have so often talked
with. If you look in the pig’s tub, you
will see my heart.” Then the voice told
her to take the heart and wrap it up in
a handkerchief, and carry it to the river.
When she got to the river she would see
three stones in the water; she was to
stand on the middle stone and dip the
THE GIRL AND THE FISH. 93
handkerchief three times in the water.
All this she did, syage eae sank suddenly
and was carried down to a beautiful place,
where she found her lover, changed from
a fish into his proper form, and she lived
there happily with him for ever. And this
is the reason why there are mermaids in
the water.
THE DANCING GANG.
WATER- CARRIER once went to
the river to fetch water. She
dipped in her calabash and brought out
a crayfish. The crayfish began beating
his claws on the calabash, and played
such a beautiful tune that the girl began
dancing and could not stop. The driver
of the gang wondered why she did not
come, and sent another to see after her.
When she came, she too. began to dance
when she heard the music and the cray-
THE DANCING GANG, 95
fish singing, “ Vaitsi, vaitsi, O sulli van?”
“Stay for us, stay for us, how long will
you stay for us?” Then the driver sent
another and another, till he had sent the
whole gang. At last he went himself,
and when he found the whole gang danc-
ing, he too began to dance; and they
all danced till night, when the crayfish
went back into the water; and if they
haven’t done dancing, they are dancing
still.
ANANSI AND BABOON.
NANSI and Baboon were disputing
one day which was fattest. Anansi
said he was sure he was fat, but Baboon
declared he was fatter. Then Anansi
proposed that they should prove mee eo)
they made a fire, and agreed that they
should hang up before it and see which
would drop most fat. Then Baboon hung
up Anansi first, but no fat dropped. Then
Anansi hung up Baboon, and very soon
the fat began to drop, which smelt so good
ANANSI AND BABOON. 97
that Anansi cut a slice out of Baboon
and said, ‘‘Oh, Brother Baboon, you fat
for true.” But Baboon didn’t speak. So
Anansi said, “ Well, speak or not speak,
Pll eat you every bit to-day,” which he
really did. But when he had eaten up
all Baboon, the bits joined themselves
together in his stomach, and began to
pull him about so much that he had no
rest, and was obliged to go to a doctor.
The doctor told him not to eat anything
for some days, then he was to get a ripe
banana and hold it to his mouth. When
the Baboon, who would be hungry, smelt
the banana, he would be sure to run up
to eat it, and so he would run out of his
mouth. So Anansi starved himself, and
G
98 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
got the banana, and did as the doctor
told him ; but when he put the banana to
his mouth, he was so hungry he couldn’t
help eating it. So he didn’t get rid of
the Baboon, which went on pulling him
about till he was obliged to go back to
the doctor, who told him he would soon
cure him; and he took the banana and
held it to Anansi’s mouth, and very soon
the Baboon jumped up to catch it, and
ran out of his mouth, and Anansi was
glad to get rid of him. And Baboons to
this very day like bananas.
ANANSI AND THE LION.
NANSI planned a scheme. He went
to town and bought ever so many
firkins of fat, and ever so many sacks, and
ever so many balls of string, and a very big
frying-pan ; then he went to the bay and
blew a shell, and called the head fish in the
sea, “‘Green Eel,” to him. Then he said to
the fish, ‘The king sends me to tell you
that you must bring all the fish on shore,
for he wants to give them new life.” So
Green Eel said he would, and went to call
100 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
them. Meanwhile Anansi lighted a fire,
and took out some of the fat, and got his
frying-pan ready, and as fast as the fish
came out of the water he caught them
and put them into the frying-pan; and
so he did with all of them until he got
to the head fish, who was so slippery
he could not hold him, and he got back
again into the water. When Anansi had
fried all the fish, he put them into the
sacks, and took the sacks on his back and
set off to the mountains. He had not
gone very far before he met Lion, and
Lion said to him, ‘‘ Well, Brother Anansi,
where have you been? I have not seen
you a long time.” Anansi said, ‘‘I have
been travelling about.” ‘But what have
ANANSI AND THE LION. 101
you got there?” said the Lion. “Oh, I
have got my mother’s bones; she has been
dead these forty-seven years, and they say
I must not keep her here, so I am tak-
ing her up into the middle of the moun-
tains to bury her.” Then they parted.
After he had gone a little way the Lion
said, “I know that Anansi is a great
rogue; I daresay he has got something
there that he doesn’t want me to see,
and I will just follow him.” But he took
care not to let Anansi see him. Now
when Anansi got into the wood he set
his sacks down, and took one fish out
and began to eat; then a fly came, and
Anansi said, “I cannot eat any more, for
there is some one near.” So he tied the
102 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
sacks up, and went on farther into the
mountains, where he set his sacks down
and took out two fish, which he ate; and
no fly came, he said, ‘‘ There is no one
near.” So he took out more fish. But
when he had eaten about half-a-dozen,
the Lion came up and said, “ Well,
Brother Anansi, a pretty tale you have
' told me.” “Oh, Brother Lion, I am so
glad you have come; never mind what
tale I have told you, but come and sit
down—it was only my fun.” So Lion sat
down and began to eat; but before Anansi
had eaten two fish, Lion had emptied one
of the sacks. Then said Anansi to himself,
‘Greedy fellow, eating up all my fish.”
‘What do you say, sir?” “TI only said
ANANSI AND THE LION. 103
you do not eat half fast enough,” for he
was afraid the Lion would eat him up.
Then they went on eating; but Anansi
wanted to revenge himself, and he said
to the Lion, ‘ Which of us do you think
is the strongest?” The Lion said, “ Why,
I am, of course.” Then Anansi said, ‘‘ We
will tie one another to the tree, and we
shall see which is the strongest.” Now
they agreed that the Lion should tie
Anansi first, and he tied him with some
very fine string, and did not tie him tight.
Anansi twisted himself about two or three
times, and the string broke. Then it was
Anansi’s turn to tie the Lion, and he took
some very strong cord. The Lion said,
“You must not tie me tight, for I did not
104 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
tie you tight.” And Anansi said, “ Oh, no!
to be sure I will not.” But he tied him
as tight as ever he could, and then told
him to try and get loose. The Lion tried
and tried in vain—he could not get loose.
Then Anansi thought, “Now is my chance;”
so he got a big stick and beat him, and
then went away and left him, for he was
afraid to loose him lest he should kill him.
Now there was a woman called Miss
Nancy, who was going out one morning
to get some “‘callalou” [spinach] in the
wood, and as she was going she heard
some one say, ‘Good morning, Miss
Nancy.” She could not tell who spoke
to her, but she looked where the voice
came from, and saw the Lion tied to the
ANANSI AND THE LION. 105
tree. “Good morning, Mr Lion; what are
you doing there?” He said, ‘It is all
that fellow Anansi, who has tied me to
the tree; but will you loose me?” But
she said, “No; for I am afraid, if I do,
you will kill me.” But he gave her his
word he would not; still she could not
trust him: but he begged her again and
again, and said, “ Well, if I do try to eat
you, I hope all the trees will call out
shame upon me.” So at last she con-
sented. But she had no sooner loosed him
than he came up to her to eat her, for he
had been so many days without food that
he was quite ravenous; but the trees im-
mediately called out ‘“‘Shame,” and so he
could not eat her. Then she went away
106 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
as fast as she could, and the Lion found
his way home. When Lion got home, he
told his wife and children all that had hap-
pened to him, and how Miss Nancy had
saved his life; so they said they would
have a great dinner, and ask Miss Nancy.
Now, when Anansi heard of it, he wanted
to go to the dinner; so he went to Miss
Nancy and said she must take him with
her as her child, but she said ‘ No.”
Then he said, “I can turn myself into
quite a little child, and then you can take
me;” and at last she said ‘‘ Yes;” and he
told her, when she was asked what pap
her baby ate, she must be sure to tell
them it did not eat pap, but the same
food as every one else ; and so they went,
ANANSI AND THE LION. 107
and had a very good dinner, and set off
home again. But somehow one of the
Lion’s sons fancied that all was not right,
and he told his father he was sure it was
Anansi; and the Lion set out after him.
Now as they were going along, before the
Lion got up to them Anansi begged Miss
Nancy to put him down that he might
run, which he did, and he got away and
ran along the wood, and the Lion ran
after him. When he found the Lion was
overtaking him, he turned himself into an
old man with a bundle of wood on his
head; and when the Lion got up to him,
he said, “Good morning, Mr Lion ;” and
the Lion said, ‘Good morning, old gen-
tleman.” Then the old man said, “ What
108 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
are you afternow?” And the Lion asked
if he had seen Anansi pass that way, but
the old man said, ‘‘No; that fellow An-
ansi is alway meddling with some one;
what mischief has he been up to now?”
Then the Lion told him, but the old man
said it was no use to follow him any more,
for he would never catch him; and so the
Lion wished him good day, and turned
and went home again.
ANANSI AND QUANQUA.
UANQUA was a very clever fellow,
and he had a large house full of all
sorts of meat. But you must know, he
had a way of saying “Quan? qua?” (how ?
what ?) when any one asked him anything,
and so they called him ‘‘Quanqua.” One ~
day when he was out, he met Atoukama,
Anansi’s wife, who was going along driv-
ing an ox, but the ox would not walk,
so Atoukama asked Quanqua to help
her; and they got on pretty well till
110 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. —
they came to a river, when the ox would
not cross through the water. Then Atou-
kama called to Quanqua to drive the ox
across, but all she could get out of him
was, “Quan? qua? Quan? qua?” At
last she said, “Oh, you stupid fellow,
youre no good; stop here and mind the
ox, while I go and get help to drive him
across.’ So off she went to fetch Anansi.
As soon as Atoukama was gone away,
Quanqua killed the ox, and hid it all
away where Anansi should not see it;
but first he cut off the tail, then he dug
a hole near the river-side, and stuck the
tail partly in, leaving out the tip. When
he saw Anansi coming, he caught hold
of the tail, pretending to tug at it as if he
ANANSI AND QUANQUA. | 111
were pulling the ox out of the hole.
Anansi, seeing this, ran up as fast as
he could, and tugging at the tail with
all his might, fell over into the river;
but he still had hold of the tail, and
contrived to get across the water, when
he called out to Quanqua, “You idle fellow,
you couldn't take care of the ox, so you
shan’'t have a bit of the tail,” and then
on he went. When he was gone quite
out of sight, Quanqua took the ox home,
and made a very good dinner. Next
day he went to Anansi’s house, and said
Anansi must give him some of the tail,
for he had got plenty of yams, but he
had no meat. Then they agreed to cook
their pot together. Quanqua was to put
112 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
in white yams, and Anansi the tail and
red yams. When they came to put the
yams in, Quanqua put in a great many
white yams, but Anansi only put in
one little red cush-cush yam. Quanqua
asked him if that little yam would be
enough ; he said, “Oh, plenty, for I don’t
eat much.” When the pot boiled, they
uncovered it, and sat down to eat their
shares, but they couldn’t find any white
yams at all—the little red one had turned
them all red. So Anansi claimed them
all, and Quanqua was glad to take what
Anansi would give him. Now, when they
had done eating, they said they would
try which could bear heat best; so they
heated two irons, and Anansi was to try
ANANSI AND QUANQUA. 113
first on Quanqua; but he made so many
attempts that the iron got cold before he
got near him. Then it was Quanqua’s
turn, and he pulled the iron out of the
fire and poked it right down Anansi’s
throat.
THE BROTHER AND HIS SISTERS.
dames were once upon a time three
sisters and a brother. The sisters
were all proud, and one was very beauti-
ful, and she did not like her little brother,
“because,” she said, “he was dirty.” Now
this beautiful sister was to be married,
and the brother begged their mother not
to let her marry, as he was sure the man
would kill her, for he knew his house was
full of bones. So the mother told her
daughter, but she would not believe it,
Pie poOl ih hea N IU eH ISe SISTERS... 115
and said she would not listen to any-
thing that such a dirty little scrub said ;
and so she was married. Now it was
agreed that one sister was to remain
with their mother, and the other was to
go with the bride; and so they set out on
their way. When they got to the beach,
the husband picked up a beautiful tortoise-
shell comb, which he gave to his bride.
Then they got into his boat, and rowed
away over the sea. And when they
reached their home, they were so sur-
prised to see their little brother, for the
comb had turned into their brother. They
were not at all glad to see him, and the
husband thought to himself he would kill
him without telling his wife. When night
116 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
came the boy told the husband that at
home his mother always put him to sleep
in the blacksmith’s shop, and so the hus-
band said he should sleep in the smithy.
In the middle of the night the man got
up, intending to kill them all, and went
to his shop to get his irons ready; but
the boy jumped up as soon as he went
in, and he said, “ Boy, what is the matter
with you?” So the boy said, when he
was at home his mother always gave him
two bags of gold, and told him to go to
sleep. But the boy said, ‘‘Now mind,
when you hear me snore I’m not asleep,
but when I am not snoring then I’m
asleep.” Then the boy went to sleep
and began to snore, and as long as the
THH BROTHER AND HIS SISTERS. 117
man heard the snoring he blew his bel-
lows; but as soon as the snoring stopped,
the man took his irons out of the fire,
and the boy jumped up. Then the man
said, “Why, what’s the matter? why
can't you sleep?” The boy said, “No;
for at home my mother always gave me
four bags of money to lie upon.” Well,
the man said he should have them, and
brought him four bags of money. Then
the boy told him again the same about
his snoring, and the man bade him go to
sleep, and he began to snore, and the
man to blow his bellows until the snoring
stopped. Then the man took out his
irons again, and the boy jumped up, and
the man dropped the irons, saying, ‘“‘ Why,
118 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
what’s the matter now, that you can’t
sleep?” The boy said, “At home my
mother always gave me two bushels of
corn.’ So the man said he should have
the corn, and went and brought it, and
told him to go to sleep. Then the boy
snored, and the man blew his bellows
till the snoring stopped, when he again
took out his irons, and the boy jumped
up, and the man said, “ Why, what’s it
now?” The boy said, “At home my
mother always goes to the river with a
sieve to bring me some water.” So the
man said, “ Very well, I will go; but I
have a cock here, and before I go I must
speak to it.” Then the man told the
cock, if he saw any one moving in the
THE BROTHER AND HIS SISTERS. 119
house he must crow: that the cock pro-
mised to do, and the man set off. Now
when the boy thought the man was gone
far away, he got up and gave the cock
some of the corn; then he woke up his
sisters and showed them all the bones
the man had in the house, and they were
very frightened. Then he took the two
bags of gold on his shoulders, and told
his sisters to follow him. He took them
to the bay and put them into the boat
with the bags of gold, and left them
whilst he went back for the four bags
of money. When he was leaving the
house, he emptied the bags of corn to
the cock, who was so busy eating he
forgot to crow until they had got quite
120 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
away. When the man returned home
and could not find them in the house,
he went to the river, where he found his
boat gone, and so he had no way of going
after them. When they landed at their
own place, the boy turned the boat over
and stove it in, so that it was of no use
any more; and he took his sisters home,
and told their mother all that had hap-
pened ; and his sisters loved him, and they
lived very happily together ever after-
wards, and do a still if they are not
dead.
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: ‘UALNVId-AVONS V AO ANOH
WHY THE JACK SPANIARD’S* WAIST
IS SMALL
NANSI and Mosquito were talking
together one day, and boasting of
their father’s crops. Anansi said his
father had never had such a crop in his
life before ; and Mosquito said he was sure
his father’s was bigger, for one yam they
dug was as big as his leg. This tickled
Jack Spaniard so much that he laughed
till he broke his waist in two. So that’s
why the Jack Spaniard’s waist is so small.
1 The Jack Spaniard is a fly rather like a wasp.
THE MAN AND THE DOUKANA TREE.
HERE was once a man and his wife
who were very poor, and they had
a great many children. The man was
very lazy, and would do nothing to help
his family. The poor mother did all she
could. In the wood close by orew a
Doukana tree which was full of fruit.
Every day the man went and ate some
of the fruit, but never took any home
so he ate and he ate till there were only
two Doukanas left on the tree. One he
THE MAN AND THE DOUKANA TREE. 123
ate, and left the other. Next day, when
he went for that one, he was obliged
to climb up the tree to reach it; but
when he got up, the Doukana fell down ;
when he got down, the Doukana jumped
up; and so it went on till he was quite
tired. Then he asked all the animals
that passed by to help him, but they
all made some excuse. They all had
something to do. The horse has his
work to do, or he would have no grass
to eat. The donkey brayed. Last came
a dog, and the man begged him hard
to help him; so the dog said he would.
Then the man climbed up the tree, and
‘the Doukana jumped to the ground again,
when the dog picked it up, and ran off
124 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
with it. The man was very vexed, and
ran after the dog; but it ran all the
faster, so that the man could not over-
take him. The dog, seeing the man
after him, ran to the seashore, and,
scratching a hole in the ground, buried
himself, all but his nose, which he left
sticking out. Soon after the man came
up, and seeing the nose, cried out that
he had ‘“‘never seen ground have nose,”
and catching hold of it, he tugged till he
pulled out the dog, when he squeezed
him with all his might to make him give
up the Doukana. And that’s why dogs
are so small in their bodies to this day.
THE EAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE
MEN.’
NANSI said to the king that if he
would give him an ear of corn he
would bring him twelve strong men. The
- king gave him the ear of corn, and he
went away. At last he got to a house,
where he asked for a night’s lodging, which
was given him. The next morning he got
up very early, and threw the ear of corn
out of the door to the fowls, and went back
1 This tale is imperfect at the beginning.
126 WHST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
to bed. When he got up in the morning
he looked for his ear of corn, and could not
find it anywhere, so he told them he was
sure the fowls had eaten it, and he would
not be satisfied unless they gave him the
best cock they had. So they were obliged
to give him the cock, and he went away
with it, all day, until night, when he
came to another house, and asked again for
a night’s lodging, which he got ; but when
they wanted to put the cock into the fow]-
house, he said no, the cock must sleep in
the pen with the sheep, so they put the cock
with the sheep. At midnight he got up,
killed the cock, threw it back into the pen,
and went back to bed. Next morning when
it was time for him to go away, his cock was
HAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN. 127
dead, and he would not take anything for it
but one of the best sheep ; so they gave it
to him, and he went off with it all that
day, until nightfall, when he got to a
village, where he again asked for a night’s
lodging, which was given to him; and
when they wanted to put his sheep with
the other sheep, he said no, the sheep
must sleep with the cattle; so they put
the sheep with the cattle. In the middle
of the night he got up and killed the
sheep, and went back to bed. Next
morning he went for his sheep, which was
dead ; so he told them they must give him
the best heifer for his sheep, and if they
would not do so, he would go back and tell
the king, who would come and make war
128 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE.
on them. So, to get rid of him, they were
glad to give him the heifer and let him
go; and away he went, and walked nearly
all day with the heifer. Towards evening
he met a funeral, and asked whose it was.
One of the men said it was his sister, so
he asked the men if they would let him
have her ; they said no, but after a while,
he begged so hard, saying he would give
them the heifer, that they consented, and
he took the dead body and walked away,
carrying it until it was dark, when he
came toa large town, where he went to
a house and begged hard for a night’s
lodging for himself and his sister, who was
so tired he was obliged to carry her, and
they would be thankful if they would let
HAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN. 129
them rest there that night. So they let
them in, and he asked them to let them
sit in the dark, as his sister could not bear
the light. So they took them into a room
and left them in the dark ; and when they
were alone, he seated himself on a bench
near the table, and put his sister close by
his side, with his arm round her to keep
her up. Presently they brought them in
some supper ; one plate he set before his
sister and put her hand in it, and the
other plate for himself, but he ate out of
both plates. When it was time to go to
bed, he asked if they would allow his sister
to sleep in a room where there were twelve
strong men sleeping, for she had fits, and
if she had one in the night, they would be
I
130 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE,
able to hold her, and would not disturb
the rest of the house. So they agreed to
this, and he carried her in his arms,
because, he said, she was so tired she was
asleep, and laid her in a bed; he charged
the men not to disturb her, and went him-
self to sleep in the next room. In the
middle of the night he heard the men
calling out, for they smelt a horrid smell,
and thus tried to wake the woman—first
one man gave her a blow, and then
another, until all the men had struck her;
but Anansi took no notice of the noise.
In the morning when he went in for his
sister and found her dead, he declared they
had killed her, and that he must have the
twelve men. To this the townsmen said no,
HAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN. 181
not supposing that all the men had killed
her ; but the men confessed that they had
each given her a blow: so he would not be
satisfied with less than the twelve, and he
carried them off to the king and delivered
them up.
THE END.
PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.
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