African Folk Tales Read online

  In the lower world all was peace and quiet, and everyone had enough to eat. None of the selected animals of the lower world were ambitious people like those above. In the bush the lion roared that he was King. The leopard snarled warning that he was Lord of his domain. The crocodile slew ruthlessly in order to create terror. The animals who were strong in tooth and claw bullied their neighbours, and the more helpless ones relied on flight to save them.

  “It’s a great life,” a young leopard told the tortoise. “At least it is for me. I can fight anything in the forest. I live gloriously.”

  “I only hope you will die as gloriously,” replied the tortoise.

  “Oh, you are just a defeatist,” snarled the young leopard and stalked off flicking his whiskers.

  This sort of thing made the tortoise unhappy. He went about talking to all the animals, and trying to persuade them to live at peace with each other. But it was no use. Either they were bullies, or they were bullied, and they simply could not imagine any other mode of existence. So the tortoise scarcely ever found any suitable recruits for the colony in the underworld.

  “Why worry about them?” asked the hare.

  “Because there are signs and omens that a great drought is coming. They will perish in large numbers, and the very bush itself may die. If a fire were started now it would burn like tinder. I would like to save some of them before it is too late.”

  In due time the drought came, and the fire as well, and all the animals who had been fighting and preying on each other were driven into a common effort to save themselves. The lion and the hare fled side by side, the leopard ran at the heels of the deer, and was too frightened to attempt a kill. The young leopard who had boasted to the tortoise was trapped and burnt by the fire.

  A few refugees found their way down the hole. A small pig or two, and some porcupines, and a whole lot of harmless small animals who were allowed to remain. They interfered with nobody, but seemed too dazed to realise their good fortune.

  At length the rains came to the upper world, and put out the fire. But large tracts of bush would not grow again for years, and the survivors who crept back to their old haunts did not have a very happy life.

  “Well,” said the hare to the tortoise, “I hope you have now abandoned any idea of helping those people up above. You must see now that you are just wasting your time!”

  The tortoise shook his head.

  “There may be one or two, somewhere, at some time. I prefer to go back.”

  So back he went, travelling around, looking for a few people who were worthy of a better world. He is still doing it to this day, as doubtless you know if you’ve ever owned a tortoise. They appear and disappear for long periods in the most mysterious way.

  THE QUEST FOR THE IVORY HORN

  ONCE UPON a time a King had two sons. He was a very jealous King, jealous even of his eldest son, because he was heir. He also disliked the boy because he was brave, and careless, and popular with the people. This had a bad effect on the boy, who was inclined to defy his father, and to become reckless and adventurous. This made the young Prince even more popular with the people, and the better they liked him the less his father liked him. The old King would have preferred that the younger son had been the heir, because he was delicate and timid, and unlikely to ever be a great man.

  At length the old King became so jealous of his heir that he determined to send him on a mission that could only end in his death.

  At this time there was war throughout the land, for the old King believed that the best way to be powerful was to have all the neighbouring states fighting with each other, and he intrigued until this came about. Far away from his own country was a small State ruled by the old King. Here, in a strongly armoured fort, was the King’s most precious possession, an ancient horn of ivory, which meant as much to the King, as the Crown does to the English monarch.

  So the King sent for the Prince, and said, “With all this strife going on I am afraid to keep my horn in such a distant State. I want you to go and bring it here. It will be a difficult and dangerous task, but it is fitting that you, as my heir, should carry it out. If you are afraid of course, I’ll go myself.”

  Even if the young Prince hadn’t been brave and full of self-confidence, the mere suggestion that he might be afraid of anything would have driven him on. “Of course I’ll go,” he told his father. “Don’t forget, it’s very dangerous,” the old man warned him. “Nothing will happen to me!” retorted the Prince, and went off to make his preparations for the journey.

  Although the Prince had no fears, the people had. Several wise old men tried to dissuade him, telling him that apart from all the dangers from savage animals, and marauding soldiers, that the King was undoubtedly plotting against him. The Prince was very angry at this, however, and it only made him more determined to get the horn.

  The only precaution he took was to go and talk to the oldest woman in the village before he set out. The old lady also warned him, and begged him to take her advice. “When you go to the stable tomorrow morning,” she said, “you will find a white horse there. Take him, and take no other. Let the horse guide you. He will take you to a crossroads, and when you get there, use this!” She handed the Prince a white wand. “Hold it up and it will point the way, and follow whither it points.”

  The Prince humoured the old lady by promising to do what she asked. “Is that all?” he enquired. The old lady shook her head. “No. Your father plans to kill you. At nightfall tomorrow night you will be offered shelter in a certain house, and at midnight it will be burned down. Tie your horse up well away from the house, and only pretend to sleep, and keep the wand in your hand.”

  The Prince was not inclined to take all this seriously, but he thanked the old lady and went home. Next morning when he went to the stable right enough he found a beautiful white horse he had never seen before. The Prince was very pleased with this and rode away on it, and because he didn’t want to hurt the old woman’s feelings he was also careful to carry the wand.

  As he began to ride he was surprised to find that the horse was indeed setting off in a very determined fashion as if it knew every inch of the road, and so he let it have its way. At length it came to a crossroads and stopped. Out of curiosity the Prince held up the wand. It twisted in his hands as if it were alive, and pointed to a road going due west, so the Prince followed this road.

  Just before the sun set he came to a clearing where a number of houses were standing, and a group of people rushed out to greet him enthusiastically. By this time the Prince had begun to believe that the old lady had told him the truth, so he left his horse some distance away, and went to bed with the wand in his hand. Despite the warning that the house would be set on fire, the Prince slept, but after he had been asleep some time he was awakened by the wand twisting around wildly, and he smelled smoke, so he got up and rushed out. From a safe distance he watched the house burn down, and then went to seek his horse, and spent the remainder of the night by its side.

  In the morning he heard a great hubbub in the village, so he mounted his horse and rode back. The people pretended to be delighted to hear that he had escaped, but the Prince spoke little and went on his way.

  Later in the day they came to the banks of a stream, and the horse, as if sensing danger, refused to cross. But the Prince decided that they must go on, so he flicked the horse with the wand, and it leapt the stream. The Prince soon found that the area was infested by savage animals, and reptiles, but no matter how savage the animals were, as soon as they caught sight of the wand in his hand, they turned tail and fled.

  At length he came upon a huge boa constrictor, coiled right in his path. The great snake saw the wand, and made no move to attack, but he gazed at the Prince curiously, and then spoke. “Why do you come this way?” he asked.

  The Prince explained that he had been sent on a mission by his father, and that he was determined to accomplish it. He told how the old woman had given him the wand, how she had prophesied
that the house would be burned down, and how he would escape, and that he had done so. The boa constrictor listened with great interest.

  “It is an evil thing that your father, the King, should rule in such a way, and that he should cause wars. Why do humans want wars, it isn’t as if they were hungry and wanted to eat each other, is it?” The Prince said it was not. “Then it is all foolish and evil,” the boa constrictor said. “When we kill, we kill to eat. I hope you get the horn, and I hope you become a wise and great King. Go on your way with my blessing.”

  So the Prince rode on. After a while he became aware that a leopard was trailing him, so curious to see what would happen, he drew up and waited until the leopard came in sight. “What are you doing in my territory?” the leopard asked angrily.

  The Prince repeated his story, and found that the leopard, like the snake was sympathetic. He offered a good deal of useful advice about the journey, and told the Prince that by nightfall he would come to the fort that was his destination. So the Prince bade the leopard a polite farewell, and rode on.

  As the sun set, he saw a huge fort looming up in the distance, and pulled up his horse to study the place.

  He soon realised that any hope he had of getting in by any ordinary means was in vain. The place was teeming with soldiers, and they were obviously on the alert as if expecting someone, and he was afraid there was a hot reception waiting for him. At the same time he was determined that he was going to get the ivory horn, even at the risk of his life.

  He was startled to hear a voice beside him. “Welcome King that Shall Be,” it said. At his horse’s head stood an old wrinkled woman. “Why do you call me ‘King that Shall Be?’ ” he asked. “I have heard from your friend,” she replied, “and am here to help you.” At this the Prince was amazed. “What friend?” he enquired. The woman named the old lady who had given him the wand. “Tonight when they are asleep, you must follow me. Carry your wand, and I shall lead you to the place where the horn is.”

  The Prince agreed. He knew he was risking his life, because even if the old lady led him safely into the fort, and he got the horn, it was scarcely likely they would let him get away once the loss was discovered. So he thanked the old lady, and she hid him in the forest till nightfall.

  When it was quite dark she came back, and told him to follow her. They moved like ghosts, slipping towards the back of the fort, then through a secret door hidden by trees, and along great underground passages, past rooms full of sleeping soldiers. At length they came to a huge chamber, and on a great table stood a wonderful ivory horn.

  “Raise it to your lips, and blow,” whispered the old woman.

  “But that would be madness,” the Prince protested.

  “Do as I say,” the old woman said quickly. Deciding that this was the most insane thing he had ever done in his life, he raised the horn to his lips, and blew.

  The sound seemed to hit the roof and run down all the corridors, echoing like the shouts of a multitude. From all over the fort came the soldiers, crowding into the room. Brave as he was the Prince gave himself up for lost, but he was amazed to see that the old woman by his side was smiling.

  “They won’t hurt you now you have the horn,” she said, “Listen!” The soldiers were all shouting, shouting “Long Live the King!”

  It was indeed true, for the old King had learned that the Prince had escaped safely from the fire, and that he had not been molested by the animals, and that he had a magic wand, and he had been so incensed that he died of rage.

  Because the Prince had been so brave, and because he held the horn which they all regarded with reverence and awe, the warring peoples allowed him to leave in safety and make his way back to his own country without harm. And the Prince became a very wise and generous King, and he conciliated all tribes, and there has been no war in all that country from that day to this.

  THE LOST SISTER

  ZARA CROUCHED ON the edge of the bush and looked out at the town, and at the great house where her sister lived. She had found her sister Mizpah at last. It was six years since she had seen her and so much had happened. They had been carrying water from the stream, Zara nine years old, a funny looking little girl with big eyes, and a very thin face and body. No one thought her pretty but everyone admired her elder sister Mizpah. Everyone foretold a wonderful marriage for Mizpah. Surely so beautiful a girl must marry a most important man. Her mother was so proud of her eldest child, she was the favourite of everyone.

  Zara remembered how happy they had been that day as they carried the water. They were having a feast, the food had been gathered in, and the whole village was preparing to rejoice. Then, like a clap of thunder came the slavers. One moment the village was happy in the sunshine as the girls carried their water jars, and the next it was full of shrieking, shouting figures. The girls stood and gaped, and then before they could make any move, they found themselves surrounded. Zara remembered very little of what happened after, there was fighting and bloodshed, but she and her sister had been dragged into a hut, bound and thrown to the ground. That evening the slavers set forth with their captives, and for many weary days and nights they marched with but a little rest during the hottest hours of the day, until they came to a large town. Here they were chained in a hut.

  “Suppose we are separated?” sobbed Zara. “You are very beautiful and someone is sure to buy you and carry you off, maybe to live in a great Court, but who will want me, small and ugly as I am?”

  Mizpah hastily dragged off a charm that she wore round her neck.

  “Take this,” she told Zara. “If we are separated I will try and get word to you somehow, and no matter what happens some day you must escape and try to find me. Wear this charm so that I may know you because if years pass you will grow up and change. But no matter what happens I shall never cease to try and trace you, my beloved sister.”

  Next morning Zara’s worst fears were fulfilled. They were taken to the slave market, and many eager bidders competed to buy Mizpah. Finally, she was led away by a grim, distinguished looking old man. “He buys slaves for the Sultan of a country far to the North. Mizpah is fortunate, she may become a favourite!” a fellow captive whispered to Zara.

  “Oh, if only he had bought me also,” Zara whispered.

  Her neighbour laughed shortly.

  “He only buys the most beautiful girls!”

  Zara hid her face in her hands and wept. The selling went on, and finally towards the end Zara was bought by an old man who was a carpet weaver. She soon realised that she might have fallen into worse hands. The old man had a number of slaves of all ages. They had to work hard, but they were not bady treated. Zara soon became a skilful weaver.

  One day a dealer from the North came to the market with a strange story. Zara never missed an opportunity of going to the market because it was there that news was circulated, and one day she felt sure she would hear news of Mizpah. Now at last her patience was rewarded. The slave, Mizpah, the dealer said, had been married to the son of the Sultan, and the whole countryside was agog with excitement. It was rare indeed for a slave to have such honour conferred on her. It was of course because she had such great beauty and such a sweet disposition. Very cautiously Zara tried to find out how to get to this far place where her sister lived. The journey would take many months even if she should succeed in escaping. That would be difficult, and the penalty for failure would be death. It would have been easier if poor Zara had money or jewels to bribe someone to help her, but she had nothing, and must depend on her wits.

  During the next few weeks she managed to hide away some food, and then one night, when everyone slept she crept out with her small bundle. It took a long time to escape unseen, because people seemed astir all over the place as they usually are in busy towns, but when Zara finally gained the open country she was pretty sure that she had not been seen. The first gleam of daylight found her far in the bush, where she hid in the branches of a great tree. She was terrified that she might go asleep and fall to the g
round, so she forced herself to keep awake.

  She was not surprised some hours later when she heard two men on the path some distance away. They were talking about an escaped slave.

  “She will not get far. Hunger will drive her back, because for one thing no one would dare to help her,” one man said to the other. Zara looked anxiously at her bundle of food. She must eat very little. She could eke it out with roots, and berries. Now dozing, now waking, she waited till darkness fell, and then set off in what she judged to be a northern direction.

  For days she travelled in this way, growing ever more hungry as her store of food vanished. Finally she felt a little safer, surely she must be too far away for the tale of her escape to be known to the people around.

  That night she came to a great lake, with many boats and fishermen. Taking her courage in her hands she approached one of the men and asked him if he would take her across the lake. “Who are you?” he asked suspiciously. “I wish to visit my married sister who lives on the other side of the lake, and wishes me to go to her.” “Have you money?” asked the boatman. “No,” replied Zara, “but my sister has much money, and I promise you that a reward will be sent to you if only you will trust me.” The man looked glum. “Oh well,” he said at last. “I’m going anyhow, so I suppose I’ve nothing to lose by taking you.” “I promise you you can’t lose, but you may not hear from me for some time,” Zara said. “Hm, you sound honest!” the man commented. “Get in, but you’ll have to make yourself useful.”

  They reached the other side of the lake next day, and Zara set off once more. She was very glad that she had the charm her sister had given her because it was three years since they had separated, and Zara knew she had grown much taller. Apart from that she had no idea how she looked, for she had never seen a mirror, during all the time she had been a slave.

  That evening Zara came to a village, and the people were kind, and gave her food and shelter, but to her dismay she learned that the town where her sister lived was many weeks journey away. It was months, however, not weeks, before Zara reached the place, because as she had no money or food she had to earn a living as she went along.