AFRICAN


ADDITIONAL MYTHS SUPPLIED BY CAPTAIN
J. E. PHILIPPS OF THE UGANDA PROTECTORATE

RUANDA (East Central Africa)

{Ex -German, Congolese and British )

Principal Authorities:

1. The Muniginya Mututsi Nirimbilima, first cousin of the Sultan

Yuhi Musi.nca, reigning Umwami of Ruanda.

2. The Mwega Mututsi woman Kantarama of Induga County

(Ruanda Proper).

3. The Muhutu Arcadi Nderese of Bugoie County (N. W. Ruanda).
4 The Muhutu Rwakazina of Bufumbira (Brit. Ruanda).

5. The Mututsi Kabango of the Rutshuru (Congolese Ruanda),
and others.


I

THE COMING OF MAN (Ba-tutsi)

The Mututsi Kigwa, a Muniginya, came down to Induga from the
heavens with his wife, a Mwega, and his two sons named Katutsi and
Kahutu. He found on earth the aboriginal clans of Bagessera, Bazigabe
and Basinga, all Ba-Hutu. All were equal. There was no King. They
attacked the family with stones. They knew no other weapons.

On his deathbed Kigwa instructed his sons to teach the aborigines the
arts of civilization, which they did. The smelting of iron, and the manu-
facture of spears and knives resulted.

Katutsi had a daughter. He told Kahutu to go to another hill across
the river and marry her.

He wished to establish a separate branch of the family to avoid too close
intermarriage.

Kahutu at first refused as the relationship was too close, but faute de
mieux consented so that the race should neither lose its purity nor die out.



PLATE XXXIX


Bantu Types

People of the Safwa tribe (north of Lake Nyasa).
(See page 372.)






APPENDIX


373


Kahutu’s wife (and her offspring) were thenceforward called the
“ Abega ba Kulya,” “ The nether Princess(es).” Cf. Luganda: Mu-Mbega,
or Mu-Mbedja = a princess.

It was stated by Katutsi that “ The Banya-GiNYA shall bear kings.” To
which Kahutu replied: “ And the Ab-EGA the mothers of Kings.”

The word “ Ruanda ” = “ the Kingdom,” in the Kinya-RuANDA tongue.

The story is taken down verbatim from (i), but varies considerably in
detail as told by other informants, usually as to whether they are Ba-tutsi or
Ba-hutu. The inhabitants of the Induga County alone consider themselves
to be of the true Ruanda stock.


II

THE COMING OF CATTLE (THE COW).

By the Banya-RuANDA Cattle are considered second only to man in the
world-creation.

Umwami Ndori (Ndahiro) had a daughter, Nyiraruchaba, who was
driven out from their home (Ulugo) by him.

She went into the wilderness of Kanagge above Msaho (Lake Kivu).
Her father thought her dead.

Nyiraruchaba saw two strange animals in a rocky forest glade. One was
a cow and the other its (bull) calf. The cow appeared to be rubbing
itself in the mouth of a small rocky depression. When it moved into the
forest, she went and examined the place and found a white liquid in a
pool. This she tasted and found good.

Every morning she watched the cow: first it suckled the calf and then
descended into the hollow to try and relieve the pressure of milk in its
udders, by rubbing against a mound in the cave mouth, as the calf could
not drink enough.

While in the forest shortly afterwards she met an exiled Muhutu who
possessed nothing, and they lived together. Nyiraruchaba had been drink-
ing regularly of the milk to sustain her and wanted someone to help her
to keep and tame the cow for herself. She suggested first catching the
calf. But the Muhutu was afraid and said: “ If we catch the calf, the
mother will go away and not give us more milk.” But she caught the calf
herself, without help, and put it in their hut of leaves. Next day she went,
taking the calf as a protection against an attack by the mother’s horns. She
let the calf suck and then went and drank from the udders herself. Daily


374


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


she did this till the cow became accustomed to her and it was no longer
necessary to conceal herself with the calf to do so. Eventually she learnt
to milk into a primitive vessel. Her man told her to do this daily. Both
drank. One day at the edge of the wilderness she met a strange man who
said: “I seem to know you.” She said: “Perhaps.” He said: “We are
all in distress. The King is ill of a mortal disease.” She gave him a
clay vessel of milk to take to the King as medicine. She placed a reed-
“ straw ” in it and told the man to take it to the King, but that the effective-
ness of the medicine would be spoilt if it was told that the donor was a
woman. She feared her father might suspect sorcery from a woman.
Ndahiro consented to try it, after the bearer had tasted it, and in two days
he recovered after years of sickness. After pressure, it was revealed that it
came from a girl in the wilderness. Eventually Nyiraruchaba was sent
for and found: the cow and calf followed her to the King. He was over-
joyed to see her. She said the milk was the sap of trees, fearing harm to
the cow, of which she was fond.

One day, however, the King came upon her milking the cow, naked.

He discovered the secret, but was angry to find his daughter naked,
against taboo.

The cow had calves by the bull calf, and the King had great power and
honour as their possessor.

He ordered his daughter to teach the herdsmen to milk, and that women
were never again to milk cows. Some years after the “ Abapfumu ” (priests)
of Bukara predicted the appearance of large herds of cattle from the
caves near Lake Ruhondo (Mulera) and that there would be no more,
peasantry or poverty. All would own cattle and all be equal as at first.

The King, apprehensive for the government of the Ruanda (realm),
decreed that all cattle were a royal appurtenance, as they are in Ruanda to
this day. The cattle appeared in the reign of Cihanga and he apportioned
them to his people as his herdsmen.

And thus it is in Ruanda to this day.

Taken down verbatim from (2). Variations in detail in other narratives
is inconsiderable.


APPENDIX


375


III

THE COMING OF MAN (Ba-Hutu)

{British Ruanda: Bufumbira)

(a) Luganzu is in Ruanda (Bufumbira) tradition the first man on earth.
He is believed to have descended from the heavens and first set foot on
earth at this spot (Plate XII). The footprints of a cow, calf, and dog are
clearly visible, as also marks representing that of a bow and arrow.

The footprints of Luganzu and the kneeprints of his wife are also
shown. These had to be cleared of moss before photographing. The
Muhutu Chief Muzerero of Nyarusiza (Bufumbira) is here seen in the
traditional position and attitude of Luganzu. A passing Munya-RuANDA
woman is posed in the knee marks of Luganzu’s wife.

The place is a mile north of the foothills of Mt. Sabinyo (Birunga
Range). The Anglo-Belgian (Congo) frontier runs upon the slight rise
seen in the near background.

(b) Luganzu’s cattle trough (Plate XIII). Curious rock formation.
The troughs contain no water except occasional rain pools and are not
now used to water stock. Twenty yards from the site shown in Plate XII.

A young Mu-Tutsi is seen seated. The peculiar Ruanda hair pattern
(Umusunzu) is very visible. The Ba-TuTSi maintain it longer and more
carefully than the other two Banya-RuANDA races, viz, the Ba-HuTU and
the Ba-TwA.










NOTES

===================
=====================


from after african mythology

-==============================


ARMENIAN


I. VAHAGN (See Chap. V, p. 42).

T HE conclusion that Vahagn was Agni, i.e., a fire-god in its
different aspects, is difficult to escape. But what does his name
mean? Windischmann, followed by Lagarde and Hiibschmann, iden-
tified him with the Iranian Verethraghna, a genius of victory, on the
basis of the slight resemblance between the two names and of the
fact that Vahagn grants courage to his worshippers. Moreover, both
Vahagn and Verethraghna were identified by ancient Hellenizers with
Herakles.

Windischmann’s view is untenable, not only because Verethraghna
is represented in Armenia by other more unmistakable names, but
also because the Vahagn myths have nothing in common with the
Avestic Verethraghna, although as we have seen, both gods were
identical in pre-Vedic and pre-Avestic times. Windischmann’s view on
this matter has so completely dominated Western scholars that no
one has bestowed any thought on the Vahagn myths which we have
just examined. It is true that the Avestic Verethraghna was also
born in an ocean. But he does not fight against dragons nor is he
closely associated with fire. (The dragon fighters of Iran are Atar,
the fire, Tishtrya, the rain-star which conquers Apaosha, the Iranian
genius of drought, Thrastona, and Keresaspa.) Although, as has
been noticed by Avestic scholars like Lehmann, Jackson, and Carnoy,
the only tangible traits of Verethraghna remind us of Indra, the
individuality of his figure and of his activities is not so sharply defined
as those of Vahagn or of Indra.

Moreover, it is very difficult to derive the name of Vahagn from
Verethraghna. How did the strong “ r’s ” of “ Verethra ” become
entirely lost in a language that revels in r’s, while the very weak aghn
survived? Granting even that this is what happened, what is the
place of Vahagn among such forms of Verethraghna’s name as Vrtan
(perhaps also Vardan ), V ahram, and Vram, which occur in Armenia?

For these reasons, as well as his manifest connection with the fire,
it seems best to consider Vahagn’s name as a compound of V ah and
Agni. By some Sanscrit scholars this has been interpreted as Fire-
bringer. The sacrificial Agni is called in the Vedas havya-vah or


ARMENIAN MYTHOLOGY


34

havya-vahana (Macdonell, p. 97). But V ah must have meant some-
thing else than “ a bringer ” to the old Armenians. It is interesting
to note that all the names and adjectives derived from Vahagn use
only the first syllable as if it were a divine name by itself. His temple
was called the Vahevahyan temple. His priests were known as Va-
hunis or Vahnunis. Men claiming descent from Vahagn were often
called Vahe, Vahan, and Van — a corruption of Vahan. Wackernagel
(quoted by Gelzer) suggests that at his rites or mysteries, the en-
thused worshipper must have shouted “ Vahe’vah,” as at weddings
Greeks shouted ifjLevrjio<; ! for v/xrjv. The resemblance would perhaps
have been more striking if he had cited the case of aapoi for cra/?a£tos
in the Dionysia.

If there is anything in the classical testimonies bearing upon the
kinship of the Armenians with the Thracian races, and in particular
with the Phrygians, one might set the ancient Phrygian satyr or rather
god Hyagnis beside Vahagn. (See on Hyagnis, La Grande Encyclo-
fedie and Pauly-Wissoiva, s.v.) At first glance the similarity
between the two names is just as striking as that between the Vedic and
Avestic Indra, or the Vedic Nasatya and the Avestic Naonhaithya.
What is more, just as “ Vahagn,” “ Hyagnis ” (the supposed father
and perhaps the duplicate of Marsyas) also is a compound word, for
both Agnis and vrjs occur alone. Agnis stands for Hyagnis in the
Mosaic of Monnus ( Pauly-Wissowa, loc. cit .) and vr)s or vas is
confessedly a Phrygian god. Both Aristophanes and the Assyrians
knew him as such. It would seem that at the stage of development
in which we meet with Hyagnis and Marsyas in Phrygian mythology,
they had become divested of their original character in favor of
the all-victorious Sabazios or Dionysos, becoming mere flute-players
and musical inventors who adorned his procession. But the original
relation of Hyagnis to the fire can be legitimately inferred from his
transparent name, and Marsyas’ interest in the fertilizing rivers is a
commonplace of classical mythology and geography. It is not unlikely
that some representation of Hyagnis with reeds as his symbol gave
rise to the misapprehension that he was an inventor of the flute and
other allied musical instruments. For the Greek the flute was Phrygian
and every reed suggested a flute. The V ah of Vahagn and the vrj’s
of Hyagnis are identical with vr ) s used as a name or title of Diony-
sos. When we consider the fact that the Greek v was bilabial, then
we can easily see how a v could change into a v. But we may
observe the same phenomenon between other cognate languages; for
example, the Greek i<rirepa appears as vesfera in Latin. One may
even say that between the different members of the Thracian family
h and v interchanged freely. So the Phrygian word for bread given by


APPENDIX


365

Herodotus as /Sckos is hatz in Armenian. The Greeks usually, and
not without some foundation, associated this word {fys, “ Hyas,”
with their veiv, “ to rain.” In fact V ah and Hyas must be brought
together with Vayu, the air and weather god of the Vedas (and of
the Avesta) and the other self of Indra. According to Darmesteter,
the Avestic Vayu fights on the side of Mithra against the Devas by
means of the tempest. We may even compare the Zoroastrian Vae
i vah (“the good Vayu”) with the Armenian Vahevah mentioned
above, and conclude that the resemblance is not fortuitous. On the
other hand the Armenian word aud , “ air,” “ weather,” adequately
represents the Vedic and Avestic V ata , which, according to Macdonell,
is Vayu in its physical aspect.

The inevitable inference is that Vahagn-Hyagnis was originally a
lightning god with special reference to weather and to rain, very much
like the water-born Agni or the Apam Napat as well as the Lithuanian
Sventa Ugnele (Holy Fire) who bears the title of Visiya , “ the fruit
bringer” or “increase giver” ( ARW i. 368), which is a clear refer-
ence to his relation to the rain.

A. von Gutschmid finds that the Armenian legend about St. Athe-
nogene, who took the place of Vahagn in Ashtishat, has a peculiar
relation to game and hunting. From this he has inferred that among
other things Vahagn was the patron of game and hunting. This
theory finds a partial confirmation in Adiabene, southeast of Arme-
nia, where Herakles was adored and invoked as the god of the hunters.
(Gutschmid, iii. 414.) This Herakles may be Vahagn, but more
probably it is Verethraghna, whose worship also has spread westward.

Moses tells us that Vahagn was worshipped in Iberia also and
sacrifices were offered before his large statue. (i. 31.) A euhe-
merized but very interesting form of the Agni myth is found
in the Heimskringla, or chronicles of the kings of Norway, by
Snorro Sturleson (see English translation by Sam. Laing, London,
1844, i. 33 f.). Agne (fire) is the son of King Dag (day), who was
slain in his ship in the evening. Agne overcomes the Finnish chief
Froste (cold) in a battle and captures his son Loge (Luke, Lewk?)
and his daughter Skialf (“shivering”). The latter, whom Agne
had married, contrived to avenge the death of her father in the
following manner: Agne, on her own instance, gave a burial
feast in honor of her father, and having drunk copiously, fell asleep.
Thereupon she attached a noose to the golden ornament about his neck,
the tent was pulled down, and Agne was dragged out, hauled up,
and hanged close to the branches of a tree. He was buried in
Agnefit.

According to this naturalistic myth, fire is related to the day and


ARMENIAN MYTHOLOGY


366

therefore to the sun. It conquers the cold and is conquered in turn
by it, and being extinguished, it returns to the tree (its mother?).
This is another echo of the ancient fire-myths.

II. WITCHCRAFT AND MAGIC (See Chap. VI, p. 48)-

The ancient Armenians were much given to witchcraft and
divination. John Mantaguni (5th century) mentions no less than
twenty-five forms of magical practices. Eznik’s short notices on
bringing down the moon remind us of the same practice among the
Thessalians, so often spoken of by Latin writers, such as Apuleius,
Horace, Petronius, etc. Horace says:

Non defuisse masculae libidinis
Ariminensem Foliam
Et otiosa credidit Neapolis
Et omne vicinum oppidum
Quae sidera excantata voce Thessala
Lunamque coelo deripit.

This was a most difficult feat performed by the witch, either as
an expression of anger or as an exhibition of great skill.

Bringing down the moon is found in Chinese encyclopedias as
a favorite trick of Taoist doctors. The following quotations
were furnished by Prof. Hodous of the Kennedy School of Missions,
Hartford, Conn.:

According to the Hsiian Shih Chi, written during the T’ang dynasty,
“ In the T’ang dynasty in the reign of T’ai Ho (827—836 a.d.)
a certain scholar named Chow possessed a Taoist trick. At the mid-
autumn festival he met with his guests. At the time the moon was
very bright. He said to his guests when they were seated, c I am
able to cut off the moon and place it into my sleeve.’ In order to do
this he commanded them to empty the room. He took several hundred
chopsticks, tied them with a string, and mounted them saying, ‘ I
am about to climb up and take the moon.’ Suddenly they noticed
that heaven and earth were darkened. Then he opened the room and
said, ‘ The moon is in the dress of Mr. N. N.’ Then with his
hand he raised the dress. Out of a fold of the dress there came out
a moon over an inch in diameter. Suddenly the whole house was very
bright and the cold penetrated the muscles and bones.”

The Yu Yang Tsa Tsu, written towards the end of the eighth
century, records another instance: “ In the beginning of the reign of


APPENDIX


367


Ch’ang K’ing (821-825 a.d.) a hermit called Yang was in Tch’eu
Chow (Hunan). It was his custom to seek out those who were search-
ing after the Tao. There was a local scholar called T’ang. The
natives called him a man a hundred years old. Yang went to him
and he persuaded him to stop a night. When night came he called
a girl saying: ‘ Bring the last quarter of the moon.’ The girl pasted
a piece of paper like the moon on the wall. T’ang arose and bowed
to it saying: ‘Tonight there is a guest here, you should give him
light.’ When he finished speaking the whole house was as bright
as if he had hung up candles.”

It is suggested that the magicians performed this wonder by means
of mirrors.

Armenian magical texts of a later date tell us that the sorcerers
climbed up a ladder of hair to tie the moon to the mountain top and
the sun to its mother!


III. ADDITIONAL NOTE ON SEMIRAMIS. By W. J. Chapman
(See Chap. X, p. 68).

In the Noldeke Festschrift, Lehmann-Haupt has shown that the
Assyrian queen Sammuramat (fl.c. 800 B.c.), probably a Babylonian
by birth, is the historical figure about whom the legendary story of
Semiramis has gathered. But this does not account for the fact
that the Semiramis of legend has characteristics which unmistakably
belong to the goddess Istar, and that in the story, as Ctesias tells it, she
is connected with north Syria, the seat, in Graeco-Roman times,
of the worship of the Syrian (= Assyrian) goddess. Yet a third
factor in the legend (cf. A. Ungnad, OLZ [1911], 388), seems
to be a reminiscence of the very ancient Babylonian queen Azag-Bau,
who is said to have founded the dynasty of Kis.

The Semiramis of Herodotus (i. 184) is clearly the historical
Sammuramat; in Ctesias, the supernatural birth of the great queen
and her disappearance from the earth in the form of a dove (Assyr.
lummu) is just as unmistakably mythological; yet a third version
of the story, that of Deinon (Aelian, vii. 1, i), according to which
Semiramis is a hetaera , who having won the affections of King Ninus,
asks leave to rule for five days, and when once she is in possession of
the government puts the king to death, is pure folklore. Yet Deinon’s
account reminds us of Azag-Bau, for Babylonian tradition made the
latter “ a female liquor-seller ” — in so far corresponding to the
Greek hetaera , and in the omen-tablets we read: “ When a child is
bisexual, that is an omen of Azag-Bau, who ruled over the land.”


3 68


ARMENIAN MYTHOLOGY


This idea underlies the version adopted by Ctesias: “ Ein Mannweib,
die Semiramis, hatte das Reich gegrundet; ein weibischer Mann (the
legendary Sardanapalus) brachte es ins Verderben ” (Duncker, Gesch.
des ALtertums , iii. p. 353).

The mutual relationship of the three chief variants of the story
would be explained, if we suppose that Sammuramat was originally
an epithet of the goddess Istar, or possibly of the primeval queen
Azag-Bau; compare the Gilgamesh Epic, vi. 13, where Istar says to
the hero: “Thou shalt enter into our dwelling amid the sweet odors
(sammati) of cedar-wood.” Semiramis would then mean “ fond of
sweet odors.” There is, however, another etymology, which is also
of ancient date, summu ramat , “ fond of the dove,” the dove being
the sacred bird of Ishtar (Diodorus, ii. 4). See Alfred Jeremias,
lzdubar-N imrod, pp. 68-70.

W. J. CHAPMAN

The Armenians ascribed the Urartian works in Van, especially a
mighty dam, to Semiramis’ building activities. She is supposed to have
chosen that city as her summer residence. The saga reported that she
died in Armenia. As she was pursued by her armed enemies, she
fled afoot, but being exceedingly thirsty she stooped to drink water
(from a source) when she was overtaken by her enemies. How she
died is not clear, but the sagas spoke of the enchanting of the sea,
and of the beads (?) of Shamiram in the sea. There was also a stone
called Shamiram, which, according to Moses, was prior to the rock
of the weeping Niobe. Those who are acquainted with the classical
form of the Semiramis legend will easily perceive how the Armenians
have appropriated the details about her building palaces and water-
canals in Media and her death in India.

See also on Semiramis, Lenormant, La Legende de Semiramis,
Brussels [1873]; Sayce, “The Legend of Semiramis,” Hist. Rev.,
1888; Art. “Semiramis” in EBr 9th and nth ed; Frazer, GB 2 ,
iii, 16 1 ff. ; Uhlrich Wilcken, Hermes, xxviii [1893], 16 1 ff., 187 if.;
F. Hommel, Gesch. Bab. u. Assyr., Berlin [1885], pp. 630-632;
C. F. Lehmann-Haupt in Noldeke Festschrift. For the Assyrian
text see Walter Andrae, Die Stehlenreihen in Assur, Leipzig [1913],
p. 11, and compare Lehmann-Haupt, Die historische Semiramis und
ihre Zeit, Tubingen [1910].


APPENDIX


369


IV. THE CYCLOPS (See Chap. XI, p. 85).

The Cyclops, and especially Polyphemos, are to be found every-
where in Europe and Asia (see e.g. W. C. Grimm, “ Die
Sage von Polyphem,” ABAW, 1857, p. I ff. ; J. and W. Grimm,
Kinder und Hausmarchen , No. 1 3° 5 W. R* S. Ralston, Russian
Folk Tales , London, 1873, ch. iii; Herodotus, on the Arimaspians,
iv. 27; G. Krek, Einleitung in die Slavische Litter aturges chi chte 2 ;
Graz, 1887, pp. 665-759; G. Polivka, “ Nachtrage zur Polyphem-
sage,” ARW i. [1898] 305 f.). The black giant whom Sinbad the
Sailor, Odysseus-like, blinded on his third voyage, is well known to
readers of the Arabian Nights. Polyphemos appears also in Russian
folk-lore, with the name of Licko, with the sheep under which his
tormentor escapes, and with his cry, “ No man has done it,” while
he is bewailing his lost eye. It is perfectly evident that certain im-
portant details, such as the one single round eye and the burning of
it, have disappeared from the rationalizing and short Armenian ac-
count. The modern descendants of the Cyclops in Armenia are one-
eyed beings, who are either gigantic devils or a monstrous race living
in caves. Each individual weighs a hundred times more than a human
being. In the day-time they sit on their roofs in wait for travellers,
animals, birds, jinn, monsters, whom they may devour. When nothing
comes they procure a whole village for their dinner. For other
versions of the Cyclops story, see J. A. MacCulloch, The Childhood of
Fiction, London, 1905, Chap. 10.


V. THE AL (See Chap. XI, p. 88).

A magical text of uncertain date says: “ St. Peter, St. Paul and
Silas while they were travelling, saw on the roadside a man sitting
on the sand. His hair was like snakes, his eyebrows were of brass,
his eyes were of glass, his face was as white as snow, his teeth were
of iron, and he had a tusk like a wild boar. They asked him: ‘ What
art thou, impure, accursed and awful beast, etc.? . . .’ He answered:
‘ I am the wicked Al. I sit upon the child-bearing mother, I scorch her
ears and pull out her liver (?) and I strangle both mother and child.
Our food is the flesh of little children and the liver (?) of mothers
with child. We steal the unborn infants of eight months from
the mother and we carry them, deaf and dumb, to our King. The
abyss, the corners of the houses and of stables are our habitation.’ ”
Another magical text says: St. Sisi (Sisoe) and St Sisiane (Sisinnios),
St. Noviel and the angel St. Padsiel had gone a-hunting with the


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ARMENIAN MYTHOLOGY


permission of Christ. They heard the cry of an infant and going
in its direction, they surprised the A l in its evil work. They caught
him and bound him to the Al-stone. Thereupon came the mother
of the A l and they said: “ What does it mean that you enter the
womb of mothers, eat the flesh and drink the blood of infants and
change the light of their eyes into darkness, etc.”

Mher

Mher was the son of the Hero David. While avenging his father,
he sees before him an open door which he enters with his fiery horse
and the door closes behind him. Ever since that day Mher lives in
that cave. The underground river Gail (Lukos) flows under the
cave with a terrible rumbling. Once a year (either on the festival
of Roses, originally a fire and water festival, or in the night of the
ascension identified with the night of destinies) Mher’s door is opened.
Anyone near-by enters and is led by Mher to his great treasures, where
the poor man forgetting himself allows the door to be closed upon him.
Some day Mher will come out of the cave, mounted on his fiery horse,
to punish the enemies of his people. That will be the dies irae for
which the Armenians of the Van region wait with impatience.

AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


346

of a man turning himself into an animal, we have an animal
turning himself into a man, for the purpose of securing for
his wife a human being whom he intends to kill and eat,
though his purpose is in most cases defeated, either by a
brother or sister of the wife, by some helpful animal, or other-
wise. The most popular beasts in this connection are the
leopard and the hyena. But the story occurs in innumerable
variations, the suitor being sometimes, not an animal but an
ogre — disguised, of course — or even a mere “ robber,” while
in a region long subject to European influence, he is, frankly,
“ the Devil.” It should also be noticed that the Wachaga
(whose folklore unites two separate streams of tradition) have
an extremely fluctuating conception of their irimu. Sometimes
he is called a “ were-panther ” (but even as such his shape
seems to differ from that of the ordinary leopard), but some 1 -
times he appears as an ordinary human being, except for a
second mouth at the back of his head, and yet again, as a
shapeless monster, with bushes growing out of him, like the
Zulu U silosimapundu. There is more than one Chaga tale
relating the courtship of such a being, and one where a hyena
(not called an irimu) forces a girl to marry him and keeps
her in his den till rescued by an old woman. But this tale, as
it stands, seems to be a confusion of two different themes, and
it is better to take a fairly typical one from Nyasaland . 30

A girl refused all suitors who presented themselves (this is
the usual opening and serves to point a moral against pride
and over-fastidiousness), but was at last attracted by a hand-
some stranger from a far country, who was, in fact, a trans-
formed hyena. Her parents consented, and the marriage took
place. After some days, the husband prepared to take his
bride home, and her little brother, who suspected something
wrong, begged her to let him come too; but she refused, be-
cause he had sore eyes . 31 He waited, however, and then
followed them, crouching down and hiding in the grass when-


STORIES OF WITCHCRAFT


347

ever he was about to come up with them. When he thought
he was too far from home to be sent back, he joined them
openly, but his new brother-in-law drove him back with threats
and blows. So he dropped behind, but still followed them
secretly and reached the village, where they so far took pity
on him that they allowed him to sleep in the hen-house. Here
he stayed awake, and when it was quite dark, he found that
many hyenas had assembled (during the day all the people
in the village had taken human form). They went round
and round the house where the bride was sleeping and sang:

“ Let us eat her, our game, but she is not yet fat enough ! ”

In the morning, he told his sister what he had heard, and
she refused to believe him; so, at nightfall, he asked her to
tie a string to her toe and pass the end out through the wall of
the grass hut, where he could get it. When the hyenas began
their dance, he pulled the string, so as to awaken her, and she
heard them for herself. Next day, he borrowed his brother-
in-law’s adze, saying that he wanted to make himself a spin-
ning-top, and constructed a wooden receptacle of some sort,
evidently having magical properties, for, not only was he
able to get into it with his sister, but, on his singing a certain
incantation, it rose into the air with them and carried them
safely home, despite the pursuit of the hyenas.

A story very similar to this is told by the Mpongwe , 32 of
a leopard who, hearing how a certain girl has announced that
she will accept no man as a husband whose skin is not perfectly
smooth and flawless, gets himself treated by a medicine-man
so as to fulfil the conditions and carries home his wife, who
has a narrow escape of being eaten, but is saved by an enchanted
horse, thoughtfully provided by her father. This horse,
however, introduces an alien element into the conclusion, and
will require a passing notice in our last chapter.


CHAPTER XV


RECENT AND IMPORTED MYTHS

I T DOES not come within the scope of these pages to
attempt definitions of mythology and folklore, or to say
where the line should be drawn between them. But it seems
to me that, in an old civilisation, though folk-belief may still
be a living thing, it does not as a rule throw up new shoots of
myth. Not that the mythopoeic faculty is by any means
dead, even in these islands, as witness the legends of the
Mons angels and the Russian army at Aberdeen. But there
is a difference — better felt than expressed — between such
fictitious narratives as these, disseminated (no doubt in all
good faith) usually through the medium of the newspapers,
and the equally fictitious narratives related and believed as
sober fact, in Africa. I should not include among the latter
such rumours as that of the miraculous fish caught at Zanzi-
bar and bearing texts from the Koran on his sides — an anec-
dote whose proper home would seem to be the columns of
Tit Bits or the Daily Mail. But any day in casual conversation,
one may hear of occurrences which might have been taken
direct from some mediaeval chronicle. One was informed,
for instance, how the women of Mambrui, during a long
drought, went on pilgrimage to a ruined mosque in the woods,
and there, in the pauses of their prayers, heard the spirits of
“ the old Sheikhs ” chanting, within the walls, “ Amin ” and
“La illah ill' Allah.” And the rain came down in torrents
before they reached home. Or how a godless soldier of the
Seyyid’s guards — “ one of those Hadhramis, you know, who
have no respect for anything ” — shot down the glittering



PLATE XXXVII


1. Ancient Pillar at Mambrui, from which the
urn is said to have been shot down.

2. Ruined house at Lamu. Note the rows of
niches along the wall which are used as shelves. They
were often filled with valuable china by rich Arabs.






RECENT AND IMPORTED MYTHS 349

bowl which used to finish off the top of the great pillar just
outside the town, and fell down dead before the fragments
reached the ground. Or how my informant’s grandfather
was cured of his blindness through remedies revealed to him
in a dream by “ our lord Hamza.” 1

A remarkable example of these modern myths is the follow-
ing, sent me in MS. by the Rev. K. Becker, formerly of the
Neukirchen Mission, at Kulesa on the Tana. His account is
translated from the notes of one of his native teachers, who
got the narrative at first hand from an aged woman at Mwana-
thamba — a village not far from Ngao. I may mention that
I had heard of the story before receiving Mr. Becker’s MS.
and had twice walked over to Mwanathamba in order to secure
an interview with Hadulu — said to be the heroine of the
tale — but without success.

This woman belonged to the Buu tribe, 2 who now occupy
the country round Ngao, about thirty miles from the sea.
According to the narrator, at the time when these events took
place — which we may put at from fifty to seventy years
ago — they were sunk in degradation and wickedness, chiefly
owing to their drinking habits. They used to make intoxicat-
ing liquor from the juice of a species of Borassus palm ( mu -
hafa\ which produces edible fruit ; and besides the other evils
arising directly from drunkenness, they killed so many palms
by persistent tapping, that the food supply was sensibly
affected.

Now a certain man named Mpembe, living at Sambae, was
one day visited by a white man, dressed in a long white gar-
ment; his hair, also, was long, like that of a European woman.
He told Mpembe, who was a man of influence and standing,
being a member of the witch-doctors’ guild, that he should ex-
hort his countrymen to leave off their sinful practices.
Mpembe obeyed, and with some apparent result, as the people,
though inclined to scoff at first, became frightened and effected


350


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


an ostensible reformation, though many of them continued in
secret to act as they had done heretofore. The stranger there-
upon visited Mpembe a second time and sharply rebuked him,
in so much that he nearly died of fright.

One day, about this time, three young girls were out watch-
ing the rice-fields, to drive away the birds from the ripening
crops. One of them belonged to the Buu tribe, and her
companions to the neighbouring tribes of Ngatana and Kalindi.
One day, when the birds were less troublesome than usual,
they left their posts to pick up firewood in the forest and saw
the white-clad stranger — his figure surrounded by a mysteri-
ous radiance — standing among the trees. They were terri-
fied and ran back to the rice-field, crouching down to hide
themselves in the standing grain. But, when they ventured to
look again, they saw him coming nearer — the nimbus which
surrounded him growing brighter all the time — till he stood
under a muhafa palm, when he bowed himself to the ground,
and they heard him say: “Amen! amen! the people cry,
1 Hunger! hunger! hunger! ’ Yet I have given you the fruit
of the mukindu and of the muhafa and of the mukoma , to
eat thereof, but ye have wasted and destroyed them through
your sin.” He had a long staff in his hand with which he
struck the trunk of the palm again and again, and at every
blow some of the leaves fell, till at last it was quite bare.
Except for the word “ Amen,” which, of course, was unknown
to the girls, he spoke in their own language. He then addressed
them as follows: “ I have done this that you may tell your
people of it and warn them that, if they go on spoiling the trees
and refuse to give up their other sins, I shall do terrible things
among them ! At such and such a place I saw a drunkard who
had climbed a palm; I said to him: ‘Come down! ’ but he
only mocked at me. I touched him with my staff, and he fell
dead. Tell your people to go and fetch his body, and let this
evil-doing cease out of the land! ”


RECENT AND IMPORTED MYTHS 351

Presently there arose a terrible tempest: the wind beat down
the rice in which the girls had hidden themselves and even
threw them to the ground, and they saw the stranger rise into
the air and disappear among the clouds.

At the same time, Mpembe, at home in his village, received
some supernatural intimation which caused him to tell the
people that the stranger of whom he had spoken to them
had appeared to three girls in the rice-field, and that their
friends ought to go and look for them, as they would be
helpless with terror. They went and found that it was as he
had said, and heard the whole story from the girls.

However, the warning had no lasting effect. The Wabuu
failed to mend their ways, and the stranger’s words were ful-
filled, for some time after this, the Tana changed its course
(as it seems to have done several times previously) and the
Buu tribe were forced to leave the fertile bottom-lands, which
ceased to be productive when no longer periodically flooded by
the river. Then, too, the muhaja palms died throughout their
country, and they were not only deprived of the intoxicating
drink in which they were wont to indulge, but of the fruit
which they might legitimately have used. The narrator then
goes on to describe the present distribution of the tribes repre-
sented by the three maidens and the first introduction of
Christianity.

It is, possible — as suggested by the missionaries at Ngao —
that some wandering friar, of whom all record is lost, may have
penetrated the Tana forests about the middle of last century.
But an examination of the story makes it more probable that
we have here a product of the myth-making fancy, under the
influence of Christian teaching, projected backwards to a
period long before the establishment of the Neukirchen
mission in 1887.

It is interesting to compare with this a Chaga tradition (un-
fortunately somewhat vague and scanty) reported by Gut-


352


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


mann . 3 At a not very distant period — “ the first Europeans
had already come to us ” — was seen the apparition of a light-
complexioned man floating through the air at high noon. He
had a bell in either hand and cried aloud:

“ Pay every debt thou owest to thy brother!

If thou hast an ox of his, restore it.

If thou hast a goat of his, restore it.

The King commands it!

Let every stranger in the land return to his home.

Every child kept in pawn ye shall set free.

Cease from deeds of violence, break the spear!

The King commands it! ”

At sunset he appeared again and was seen in different places,
but never touched the earth. The Chief of Moshi heard of
him and ordered his men to keep on the lookout. But,
though they sat gazing at the sky till driven indoors by the
chill of the evening, they never saw him again.

Another example of a recent — or at all events highly
modernised — story from the same region is that of the fight
with the pool already mentioned in Chapter IV . 4

Turning from indigenous myths of recent origin to those
which can be set down with tolerable certainty as introduced
from without, we are confronted by some very interesting
problems of diffusion. Where Arab influence has extended,
we may expect to find Moslem traditions ; and such legends
may be found more or less naturalised in the folk-lore of
the Swahili, the Hausa, and various peoples in the Eastern
and Western Sudan . 5 The tales of the Arabian Nights , too,
are widely current in East Africa, whether originally imported
in a literary form, or by purely oral transmission, it is hard
to say, but I am inclined to the latter supposition, judging
from the number of stories one hears (casually told by cara-
van porters and other quite illiterate people) which, though of
the same general character, are not to be found in that collection


RECENT AND IMPORTED MYTHS 353

and no doubt belong to the great mass of floating tradition of
which only a small part has been reduced to literary form in
the Nights.

India, too, has contributed, directly and indirectly, to the
folklore of East Africa. The story of the “ The Washerman’s
Donkey ” 6 has been traced to the Sumsumara Jataka and that
of “ The Heaps of Gold ” to the Vedahhha Jatak a, though
it has been derived through a Persian channel. 7 A version of
the “ Merchant of Venice ” was related to me in Swahili by
a Pokomo, as told to him by an Indian at Kipini who, he
supposed, had “ got it out of some book of his own.” 8

The stories of Abu Nuwas have already been referred to
as, in some cases, mixed up with those of the Hare. They
are not to be found in the Arabian Nights , but seem to be a
common property of Arabic-speaking story-tellers and are
contained in a chap-book circulating in Syria. 9 Some of his
adventures are identical with those of Khoja Nasreddin, the
famous Turkish jester, but not necessarily derived from them.
There are also points of contact with the Arab and Berber Si
Joha ( Jeha ). Abu Nuwas was a real person, a poet and
humorist who lived (a. d. 762— 815) at the court of Harun-al-
Rashid and — like Theodore Hook and others — gained such
a reputation for wit and whimsicality as to attract to himself all
the anonymous good things of his own day, as well as those cur-
rent before and since. Some of his repartees are really humour-
ous, but his specialty lies in practical jokes, and, according to
the legend, he became such a nuisance that Harun-al-Rashid
and Jaafar resorted to every possible stratagem to get rid
of him. These stratagems and the expedients whereby he
defeats them sometimes, in Africa, coincide more or less with
the more primitive Hubeane and Kalikalanje cycles ; and we
have seen how his name, Banawasi, has become a common noun,
denoting a clever, resourceful person, or even an epithet for
the Hare. Harun becomes, vaguely, “ the Sultan,” or “ the


354


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


Chief ” — though in some Swahili versions his name and that
of Jaafar are preserved, — and at Delagoa Bay, he is even
localised into the Portuguese Governor of Mozambique . 10 A
favourite incident is that of his being ordered, by the Caliph
or the Governor, to build a house in the air. He sends up a
large kite with bells attached to it and, calling attention to the
sound which, he says, is that of the workmen’s hammers, he asks
for stones and lime to be sent up. This being declared im-
possible, he is absolved from his share of the contract.

Again, when the Sultan has ordered his house to be burnt
down, he appears resigned to his fate and only begs leave to
take away the ashes in a sack. These he sells to the Portuguese
(a people, in the narrator’s view, very easily gulled) for
their weight in silver, making them believe that the sack con-
tains valuable presents which he is taking to their king. Com-
ing back with the price, he reports that there is a wonderful
market for ashes in the Portuguese possessions; consequently
the Sultan and all the townspeople burn their houses down and
load seven ships with the result. These fall in with a Portu-
guese squadron on its way to avenge the trick; the ships are
sunk and only a few of those on board escape by swimming.
The Sultan seeks for Abu Nuwas, to have him killed, but he is
nowhere to be found . 11

Yet in spite of this, he shortly afterwards cheats a differ-
ent set of Portuguese and induces the Sultan to kill all his
cattle in order to sell the hides and bones at fabulous prices.
He is then thrown into a lion’s den, but tells the lion that the
Sultan has sent him to scratch him whenever his hide feels
uneasy. The beast is so pleased with this delicate attention
that he does Abu Nuwas no harm.

One of the jests common to Si Joha , 12 Nasreddin and Abu
Nuwas is that of the borrowed saucepan, returned with a
small one, because it has produced a young one in the interval.
On the next occasion, the lender is more than willing, hoping

Then Dodo tied up his bag, shouldered it and went on
through the forest, looking for a convenient place to roast his
prey. Presently the Camel came along, like a chief, with a
long trail of followers singing his praises. He took no notice
of the Dodo and passed on. Soon after, the Dodo met the
he-Goat, with a similar procession 5 he too passed on, saying
nothing. Then came the Rat and was about to pass likewise,
when his “ tail ” drew his attention to the fact that Dodo was
carrying something. The Rat, no doubt made suspicious by
past experience, stopped and questioned Dodo; but the latter
lost his temper and swallowed him — to little purpose, how-
ever; for the Rat, three times over, emerged unhurt from
various parts of his person. 16 “ Then the Dodo fell down
and died.” The Rat had the bag opened, and out came the
Spider with his wife and son. On hearing his story, the Rat
said: “Worthless one, take your meat and get off home.
Allah has been good to you this day,” and so departed;
while the Spider, not much disturbed by this candid address,
gathered up the meat of which he had so nearly been deprived,
went home with his family, and sent his slaves to cut up the
Dodo, who was apparently considered edible. 16

We have already seen that the Spider sometimes figures
instead of the Tortoise in the Tug-of-War story. 17 The
Hausa version of this presents some novel features and an
interesting sequel. 18 He is not concerned with asserting his


SPIDER STORIES


327

dignity against the Elephant and the Hippopotamus — only
with obtaining a supply of food which, to do him justice, he
this time intends to share with his family. He brings the
Elephant a message, as from the Hippopotamus, asking for
a hundred baskets of grain and promising to send a horse in
return, at harvest-time. He makes the same promise to the
Hippopotamus in consideration of a hundred baskets of fish.
When the time comes to redeem his promise, he hands each
creditor the end of a rope, telling him that the horse is at
the other end, but is very wild and vicious. Both pull with
all their might, unconsciously move along the rope and at
last, meeting face to face in the forest, discover the trick.
Naturally, their first thought is to discover the Spider and
pay him out; but he is quite ready for them. He finds the
skin of a dead antelope, gets inside it and wanders about —
presenting, of course, a lamentable appearance. He meets
the Elephant who inquires what has reduced him to this con-
dition. “ I was unfortunate enough to quarrel with the
Spider, and he pointed his hand at me. Those at whom he
points his hand waste away as I have done.” The Elephant
believed him, for (like the Lion in a similar predicament) 19
“ he was a fool,” and at once gave up the search, and — the
Hippopotamus meeting with a similar experience — the Spider
escaped.

We may now relate an Ewe tale ?0 which in some respects
resembles the one given in Chapter V, though it makes no
allusion to the spirit-world. The Spider had a friend named
Detsyovi, who, during a time of famine, happened to be stroll-
ing through the Bush, when he saw a millstone grinding by
itself and a stream of honey flowing beside it. Detsyovi ate
as much honey as he wanted and then took some, with a sup-
ply of flour, for his wife and children at home. This he did
from time to time, and so they were enabled to live and grow
fat. One day the Spider (Yiyi) came to see Detsyovi and


328 AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY

asked him where he got the food on which the family appeared
to be thriving. Detsyovi refused to tell him, on the ground
that he was too talkative. Yiyi, however, left him no peace
till he consented, but said they would wait till the next morn-
ing, when the women went to fetch water. The Spider was
too impatient to wait for daylight, but came along while it
was yet dark, with a water-jar on his head, rattling the gourd-
dipper inside it, and called out that the women were already
on their way to the well. 21 Detsyovi, looking out, saw that it
was still too early, and told him to wait till the women swept
out the courtyard. Yiyi at once took up a broom and began
sweeping, as noisily as he could, and then hurried to his friend,
telling him that it was time. But Detsyovi, seeing no sign of
daylight, said that he would go with him when the sun rose.
Then the Spider went a little way off and set fire to some
bundles of sticks, hoping that the glare would deceive Det-
syovi; but the latter refused to come out, and both went to sleep
again till morning.

When, at last, it was really daylight, they went into the
forest together, and Detsyovi led the Spider to the place where
the millstone was grinding and the honey flowing. Yiyi
shouted aloud: “Why! there’s food here, and we have to
go hungry! ” Detsyovi said: “Don’t make such a noise! ”
They both stooped down and drank some honey, and then the
Spider hoisted up the millstone on to his head. The stone
began to sing, telling him to carry it back and put it down;
but he would not listen. He went round with it to all the
people in the neighbourhood, who paid him cowries for various
quantities of flour, till his bag was full of money. But when
he grew tired and wanted to carry the stone back to its place,
he found that it had stuck to his head, and he could not lift it
off. The weight crushed him into small pieces, which were
completely covered by the stone. “ That is why we often
find tiny spiders gathered together under large stones.” 22


SPIDER STORIES


329

If the Spider had not carried off the millstone from its place
in the forest people could have gone there to this day, in
times of scarcity, and got food.

Among the Ewe the Spider has, on the whole, the character
which we have already indicated, though there are one or
two curious traces of his figuring as a benefactor. Spieth
says : 23 “The Spider surpasses all the beasts of the field in
courage and cunning.” (His courage is not, as a rule, conspic-
uous elsewhere.) “ He gets the better of the Leopard . . .
and also of the Elephant ... he borrows money from a
chief and refuses, even after numerous reminders, to repay
it. By his magic power, he delivers the whole population of
a town from the destructive c sword-birdd Yet, on the other
hand, it was the Spider who brought sores, and even death,
into the world.”

The stories given as evidence of the last two statements
are not very clear, and are probably remnants of some older
tradition. Anansi has so few redeeming points in his char-
acter that it will be well to give the first of them , 24 with all
its obscurities.

Once, in time of famine, the children of God (Mawu) came
down to earth, and the Spider (Yiyi) asked them if his
daughter Yiyisa was there (in heaven, presumably). He
requested that, when they returned, they would take her a
small parcel which they were to fetch from his house. If
he were not at home when they called, they would find it lying
on the hearth and were to carry it away without further cere-
mony. This was because he intended to get himself tied up
in the parcel j and, for the same reason, he bade them tell his
daughter not to open it until she was in the inner compartment
of the house. t His daughter was, naturally, much surprised at
seeing him, but received him cordially and did all she could to
make him comfortable, only informing him that he would have
to go elsewhere for the night, as no one else slept in that


330


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


town . 25 The Spider asked the reason, adding that nothing
would induce him to leave the place. Yiyisa answered: “ There
is a bird here with a beak as long as from Ho to Tsibuj and,
if we stay, he will come and eat us.” The Spider replied,
boasting of himself by his laudatory names 26 : “The bird
will have no desire to eat me — me, the Little Gun! — me, the
Little Gourd! — I will stay here!” Accordingly, he re-
mained, and set about sharpening his knife to such an edge
that “ if a fly settled on it, it became as water.” During the
night, the bird set out, singing:

“ We birds, we birds, we eat human flesh!

We birds of Akem, we birds of the free-born, we eat human flesh!

When we cry aloud, no other bird cries!

When we cry aloud, the grass dies in the bush! ”

The Spider sat in the inner room, keeping up his courage
by the repetition of his praise-names, till at last the tip of the
bird’s beak — which preceded him by several hours —
reached the town. The Spider hacked it off with his knife
and continued to cut off fresh pieces, till he killed the bird.
Then he struck up his war-song:

“ We Spiders, we Spiders, we live in the wall!

We Spiders of Akem, we Spiders of the free-born — ”

and so on, adapting the bird’s slogan to his own use.

The people, when they came back and heard this, rejoiced
greatly, but told him there was yet another plague for him
to get rid of — a man covered with sores, who would not
permit them to sleep in their town. He desired them not to
leave the place, and, in the night, he heard this pestilent
person approach, singing:

“ Ado says, ‘ The angry man shall kill me! ’ ”

The Spider began to dance and went on till morning, when
he told the man to come again and sing to him. The people






PLATE XXXV


Women of the Bankutu tribe, shov
patterns on the body.


ing cicatrised











SPIDER STORIES


33i

assembled; the man sang, and the Spider danced with great
vigour, till at last he became infected with the man’s sores.

Nothing I have been able to discover throws any light on
this mysterious statement. It is not even clear whether the
sores were transferred from the man to the Spider, thus free-
ing the former, or whether the latter merely caught the infec-
tion. The narrator goes on to say:

“ At first Mawu had not made any sores in the world ” —
perhaps there is an idea of Pandora’s box here — “ but when
the Spider had got them, they spread among men. Formerly
they were only with Mawu, but now they are spread abroad
through the world, because of what the Spider did.”

It is thus evident that he was a very partial benefactor;
and in the next story , 27 though it appears that his intentions
were to some extent good, he only succeeds in causing dis-
aster. The tale, as we have it, cannot be very near its primitive
form, whatever that may have been; but its importance is
attested by the existence of two West Indian versions , 28 in
one of which (very obscure) Annancy marries his daughter
to Death, while in the other he sends her to Death’s house
as a servant.

This, too, begins with the statement that “ there was a
famine in the land.” Death, whose habitat is not clearly indi-
cated (he is taken for granted as dwelling within easy reach
of, but not among, mankind) kept himself alive by snaring
game. To do this more efficiently, he hoed a broad road about
six miles long and set his traps in it. The Spider, finding
that there was plenty of meat in Death’s house, came cadg-
ing there with a huge basket; and, in order to have an excuse
for repeating his visits indefinitely, he finally gave Death
his daughter in marriage.

Death warned his wife not to pass along the broad road
when she fetched water from the river; and, for a time, all
went well. But one morning, after heavy rain, unwilling to


332


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


take the narrow side-path through the wet grass, she went
by the road, stepped into a trap and got killed. Death, when
he found her body, was hampered by no sentimental scruples,
but cut it up and set the joints to dry by the fire. Yiyi,
missing her when he paid his usual call, asked where she
was and was told that he would find her if he removed
some of the meat. Though not in general an affectionate
parent, he was so far roused as to say: “ I am now going
home, but I will come again ; and I am not going to take you
by surprise — I shall make open war on you.” He went
away, sharpened his knife to such a point that it would split
a fly, flung the weapon at Death and fled. Death discharged
an arrow, which set the Bush on fire but did not hit the Spider
— he being by this time safe in his house. Death lay in wait
for him outside the village and, in the meantime, amused
himself by shooting at the women who passed through the
gardens with their water-jars, on their way to the river. After
a while, he went to look, found that he had killed several,
and exclaimed in delight: “ Why, this is game! I need never
go and set traps in the Bush any more! ” In this way, Death
came into the world. The narrator seems to mean by this the
world of men — the animals having experienced Death’s
power for some time previous to the Spider’s unlucky
intervention.

Nothing more is said about the Spider himself — but it
is to be presumed that he escaped — at any rate for the time
being. In both the Jamaica versions, he is represented as
outwitting Death. He climbs the rafters, with his wife and
children, while Death waits below. One by one, they are
forced by exhaustion to let go and are seized and put aside
for future consumption. Annancy tells Death he is so fat
that he will “ pop ” if he falls on the ground, and so, “ if you
no want me fat fe waste, go an’ fetch someting fe catch
me.” 29 Death fetches a cask of flour from the next room,


SPIDER STORIES


333


and Annancy, dropping into it, raises such a dust as to blind
him for the time being and allow his victims to get out of
reach.

It may yet be possible to recover a more satisfactory version
of the Ewe legend, which may make these fragmentary tales
more intelligible and also throw some light on the Spider’s
mythological position.


CHAPTER XIV


STORIES OF WITCHCRAFT AND
WEREWOLVES

S TORIES about witches distinctly characterised as such
are not very common in Africa — certainly not among
the Bantu. The personage who, in European tales, would
figure as the witch more often belongs to the numerous and
weird family of ogres or amazimu. Bleek’s theory 1 that
Bantu “ ancestor-worship and belief in the supernatural give
rise to horrible ghost-stories and tales of witchcraft,” while
beast-fables are conspicuous by their absence, scarcely needs
refuting at this time of day; and Jacottet 2 comments on the
comparative rarity of such legends, except among the Herero,
a people peculiarly open to non-Bantu influences.

Some interesting particulars as to Hausa witches are given
by Tremearne , 3 most of them tending to bear out the above
view — viz., that the witch is rather a preternatural or, at
any rate, abnormal being than a mere human creature possessed
of magical skill. Thus we find that “ a witch and Dodo are
often interchangeable ”; “ when a witch is killed, every bit
of her must be destroyed, for even a single drop of her
blood can kill the victim ” — just as the remains of the zimwi
in the Swahili story give rise to a pumpkin-plant which de-
velops equal powers for mischief. Another unpleasant pecu-
liarity is the following: w All witches have many mouths which
they can cause to appear all over their bodies at will, and the
owner can turn them back into one by slapping herself.” 4 The
rimu of the Wachaga 0 is, in one case, detected by his pos-
session of a second mouth in the back of his head, and one tribe


STORIES OF WITCHCRAFT


335

of ogres, according to the Baronga , 6 have one in the nape of
the neck, where it is usually hidden by their long hair.

But witchcraft, though not often mentioned in the tales,
occupies (as is only too well known) a prominent place in
African folk-belief. The terror which makes small boys —
and indeed older people — in Nyasaland reluctant to go out
after dark, is not ghosts or bogies, as we understand them, but
afiti, wizards. In East Africa, I have been assured in all
seriousness that wizards (wan go) are in the habit of knocking
at people’s doors by night, and woe to those who open and
answer them! They entice you (or perhaps induce you by
hypnotic power) to follow them into the forest and there kill
you. My informant did not expressly mention for what
purpose, but every one knows it; and the theory and prac-
tice of ufiti seem to be wonderfully uniform, from the Tana
to the Cross River, and beyond, for there can be little doubt
that it underlies the Obi and “ Voodoo ” rites reported from
the West Indies and the Southern States of America.

A mistake which has sometimes been made with regard to
these last is to treat them as normal manifestations of African
religion, whereas they represent not merely unauthorized but
illicit and positively criminal practices. It should be remem-
bered that most, if not all, of the slaves voluntarily sold by
their own tribe, in the days when the trade flourished, were
either criminals or debtors. Similarly, we find some writers
even now confusing witches and witch-doctors 7 — which is
much as if one made no distinction between the thief and the
policeman.

Witches, in general, do not seem to be credited with such
multifarious activities as in Europe. Though one does hear
of their causing injury or death through spite and revenge,
their principal raison d'etre as a society (in parts of East
Africa, at any rate, they appear to form an organized guild)
is to feed on the bodies of those recently dead — doubtless


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


336

in order to secure a cumulative supply of strength, wit, courage
and other desirable qualities. To this end, when deaths from
natural causes occur too infrequently, or the “ subjects ” are
unsuitable, they cause people to die by means more or less
occult. It is generally believed, and probably with reason,
by those in a position to know, that they possess an extensive
knowledge of poisons j and it also seems likely that they often
kill by suggestion . 8

The Nyasaland natives believe that it is not through poison
that the victims are killed, but (as our authority not very
clearly puts it) “ by supposed power against them through
medicine.” 9 Witches can make themselves invisible, dance
in the air, and move from place to place regardless of the
ordinary laws of matter ; and the dread of them explains many
funeral customs — e.g., the drumming and dancing kept up
night and day till the corpse is buried, the abandonment of the
deceased’s house, which is shut up and left to decay, the fact that
no one will sleep in it while the burial rites are going on, etc.,
etc. They make their fire on a recent grave, and it can be
seen for miles — hence any light of unknown origin is re-
garded with suspicion. (It is not an actual fire, but the
grave itself becomes luminous, “shining with an uncaused
light.”) I remember being assured that some flames of unu-
sual height and brilliancy, observed during the grass-burning
season on Nyambadwe hill, near Blantyre, were caused by afiti.
So, too, the Baziba 10 never venture near a fire seen in the
distance at night, believing that it marks the place where the
witches are seated in council, deliberating who shall next be
killed.

HARE AND JACKAL STORIES 307

him about the farm and is wofully cheated), his most serious
offences are allowed to go unpunished. Yet the old rogue
sometimes comes in for a good beating ... for instance,
when he behaves with excessive arrogance towards the Fla-
mingo family. When persecuted by powerful enemies and
defeating them by his own ready wit, he enjoys the Hottentot’s
unlimited sympathy — still more so, when he avenges the
wrongs he has himself suffered ; but most of all, when he
appears as avenger and benefactor of the weak in general.”
There is a curious story 31 which represents the Jackal as
falling in love with the Sun (here, of course, feminine) and
trying to carry her off on his back, with the result that his
fur got burnt and remains black to this day (this of course, is
the South African variety known as the black-backed jackal).
Other versions 32 represent the Sun as a baby, apparently for-
saken by the wayside, which the Jackal picks up and carries
off. “When it burnt him, he said: f Get down,’ and shook
himself, but the Sun stuck fast to his back.”

We all remember the delightful episode in Uncle Remus ,
when Brer Rabbit presents Brer Fox in the character of “ my
fambly ridin’ hoss.” This appears to be a genuine jackal-
story, perhaps because the peoples who have made the Hare
their hero do not ride, or have only learnt to do so recently. 33
The Hyena is the victim. Both were invited to a wedding,
but the Jackal pretended he was too ill to walk and so induced
the Hyena, not only to take him on his back, but to provide
him with saddle, bridle, and spurs, on the plea that he would
be unable to keep his seat without them. 34

We cannot conclude this chapter without a reference to the
remarkable parallels contained in the Indian story of Mahdeo
and the Jackal. 35 The Jackal gets himself himself carried
on the Elephant’s back; he is caught by Mahdeo (who hides
under water and seizes him by the leg), and calls out that
Mahdeo is holding the root of a tree. Mahdeo then catches


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


308

him by means of a Tar-baby figure and ties him up, but he
escapes by a trick, inducing another jackal to take his place,
and Mahdeo is so delighted with his cleverness that he makes
him his watchman.

I do not think it is necessary to suppose that all the Hare
and Jackal stories migrated from Africa to India ; indeed, it
seems to me that an independent origin is indicated for the
Tar-baby, to take only one instance} but I should prefer to
abstain from theorising, till the materials have been more
fully studied.


CHAPTER XII


TORTOISE STORIES

O N THE few occasions — apart from the last disastrous
encounter with the Cock — when the Hare does not
come off victorious, it is the Tortoise who circumvents him.
We have seen how this happened in the story of the Animals
and the well , 1 and it is scarcely necessary to mention the two
most famous exploits of “ Brer Terrapin ” 2 — of which the
African versions will be given presently.

It is not difficult to see why the Tortoise should have gained
the reputation he bears in African and other folklore. His
ability to exist for a long time without food, the difficulty of
killing him, the ease with which he conceals himself, together
with his slow movements and uncanny appearance all combine
to suggest infinite watchfulness, patience, endurance, and wis-
dom, a grim sense of humour, and magical or preternatural
powers of some sort. I say advisedly wisdom, rather than
cunning, because, though in some cases the Tortoise’s intellect
serves the purposes of malice and vindictiveness, in others we
find him applying it to harmless fun or actual beneficence.

It is to be noticed that the Tortoise appears in all three
divisions of African folklore — i.e., side by side with the
Hare (or the antelope which sometimes takes his place), the
Jackal, and the Spider. Sometimes the land-tortoise, some-
times the turtle, or one of the fresh-water species, appears to
be meant — no doubt according to locality. One or the other,
at least, is found in every part of Africa.

The Baronga do not take much notice of the Tortoise in
their folk-tales j its place is taken by the strange little batra-


310 AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY

chian called by them chinana and by zoologists Breviceps
mossambicensis . 3

In Sierra Leone, 4 we find the Turtle (“ Trorkey ”) making
a riding-horse of the Leopard — a feat ascribed in the West
Indies to Anansi. Here the Turtle, by a refinement of astute-
ness, induces the Leopard to offer the ride and even press
him to let himself be carried. However, when he finds him-
self tricked, he has his revenge, ties Trorkey to “ one big
’tick,” and beats him so severely that the marks show on his
shell to this day. This is an ending I have not met with else-
where — though there are other stories accounting for the
conformation of the Tortoise’s shell by relating how he got it
broken to pieces and mended again.

The famous race story as told in Aesop is probably a
moralisation of comparatively recent date. The primitive
tale, which seems to be so universally diffused as to create a
presumption that it originated independently, is both less edi-
fying and more amusing. The Akamba 5 say that the contest
took place between the Tortoise (N gu) and the Fish-eagle
(Halmetus vocifer) called by these people Kipalala and by the
Swahili Furukombe or Chalikoko. Both creatures had asked
for a Kamba girl in marriage, and had been told by her father
that the condition of winning her was “ to start at daybreak
for the coast and return before nightfall with some sea-salt.”

The Eagle was quite willing ; the Tortoise showed some
reluctance, but consented to compete if the race were put off
for ten months, to which the Eagle agreed. “ Next day, un-
known to the Eagle, he started for the coast to fetch some
salt; it took him nearly five months to go and five to return,
and he hid the salt in his house. Now during his journey to
the coast he arranged with all the tortoises he met on the way
to station themselves at intervals along the route between
Ukamba and the coast, one at each of the various camps,
streams and water-holes, and he told them all to look out for


TORTOISE STORIES


3 1 1

the Eagle as he flew past . . . and, when he called out:
‘ Tortoise, are you there? ’ each one was to reply in turn, ‘ 1 am
here.’ On the appointed day the Eagle started off on his
flight to the sea 5 at intervals he called out: ‘ Ngu iko ? ’ and at
various points en route he received the prearranged reply. He
was much surprised to find the Tortoise getting on so quickly,
and still more so when he reached the shore and found a
Tortoise there in the act of collecting some salt. He, however,
quickly picked up his own salt and flew back at full speed,
and not knowing that the Tortoise which he had left on the
beach was not his competitor, felt confident that he had won.
About four o’clock in the afternoon the original Tortoise, who
was on the look-out, saw the Eagle like a speck in the distance,
so he emerged from where he had hidden throughout the day
and waddled up the road to the village, announced his return
from the coast and handed the packet of salt to the girl’s
father.”

The Eagle, when he arrived and found that he had been
outwitted “ was very angry and flew off in a great temper.”
The Mukamba said to the Tortoise: “ It is true that you have
won, but if I give you my daughter, where will you live in
safety? for the Eagle is so angry that he is sure to find you
out and kill you.” The Tortoise answered: “Oh! that is
all right, do not be anxious for my safety. My home will
in future be in the water, and the Eagle will never get me.”

We have no information as to the various species of Tortoise
to be found in Ukamba; but this suggests that at least one
of them lives in fresh water, or is amphibious . 6

There is a curious little Hottentot story recorded by Kron-
lem 7 which seems to be based on the same idea as the above,
though the race motive is absent.

“ One day, it is said, the Tortoises held a council how they
might hunt Ostriches, and they said: ‘Let us, on both sides,
stand in rows near each other, and let one go to hunt the


312


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


Ostriches, so that they must flee along through the midst of
us.’ They did so, and as they were many, the Ostriches were
obliged to run through the midst of them. During this they
did not move, but remaining always in the same places, called
each to the other: ‘ Are you there? ’ and each one answered:
‘ I am here.’ The Ostriches, hearing this, ran so tremendously
that they quite exhausted their strength and fell down. Then
the Tortoises assembled by and by at the place where the
Ostriches had fallen, and devoured them.”

This does not seem very clear, but no doubt means that the
Ostriches thought the pursuers were at their heels all the time
instead of being — as in fact they were — stationary, and
so rushed on madly to their destruction. An ostrich, as is
well known, cannot see distinctly what is close to him.

Another Tortoise story, printed by Bleek 8 from a MS. of
Rath’s (the original is in Herero), represents the Tortoise
as placed by the Elephant in charge of a pool of water,
while he went off to hunt. The Elephant had previously
quarrelled with the Rain, which consequently left the country $
he then asked the Vulture to work a rain-charm, but the
latter refused. The Crow, however, consented, and rain fell
“ at the lagoons, but they dried up, and only one lagoon
remained.” During the Elephant’s absence, the Giraffe, the
Zebra, the Gemsbok and several other animals came and
demanded water, but the Tortoise refused them all, saying:
“ The water belongs to the Elephant.” Last of all came the
Lion, who, without waiting for an answer to his request, seized
the Tortoise and beat him and drank of the water. “ Since
then the animals drink water ” — as though it had not been
their custom before. “ When the Elephant came back from
the hunting, he said: ‘Little Tortoise, is there water? ’ The
Tortoise answered: ‘ The animals have drunk the water.’ The
Elephant then asked: ‘Little Tortoise, shall I chew you or
swallow you down? ’ The little Tortoise said: ‘ Swallow me,


TORTOISE STORIES


3i3

if you please ’; and the Elephant swallowed it whole. After
the Elephant had swallowed the little Tortoise and it had
entered his body, it tore oflF his liver, heart and kidneys. The
Elephant said: ‘Little Tortoise, you kill me! ’ So the Ele-
phant died; but the little Tortoise came out of his dead body,
and went wherever it liked.”

I have given this latter part at length because of its possible
bearing on a curious unexplained point in the Swahili story
which describes the animals as “ singing ” in order to obtain
water . 9 There it is said that, after the rest had been unsuccess-
ful, “ the Tortoise appeared, and the Elephant saw him and
caught him and put him into his mouth, and he came out at
his nose, and his (the Elephant’s) companions said to him:
‘ Let him go, perhaps he will get water.’ And they let him go.
And he went and sang and got much water.”

This looks as though the well-known story related in our
last chapter had got mixed up with some rain-making legend
like the one given above, and one may conjecture that the
Tortoise proved his magical powers by coming out unharmed
in the way described . 10

Another point to notice is the eating of the Elephant from
inside, which we have already seen in “ Unana-bosele.” In
a Mandingo tale , 11 the Hyena having discovered a way to
introduce himself into the Elephant’s internal economy, feeds
on him and grows fat, but is always careful to avoid touching
the heart. The Hare, having got the secret out of “ Uncle
Hyena,” accompanies him and, paying no heed to his
directions, seizes on the heart and kills the Elephant. When
the chief’s servants come to cut up the carcase, the Hare hides
in the gall-bladder, which is at once thrown into the bushes,
and so he escapes, while the Hyena is killed.

The Mpongwe Tortoise and Leopard 12 act in a similar
manner towards the Giant Goat, who, however, is good-
natured enough to permit this parasitism, so long as the limits


3H


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


are observed, and the incident also figures among Anansi
stories . 13 It seems possible that it may have originated in the
idea — common and quite natural among primitive people —
that some animal is the cause of internal pains not otherwise
accounted for.

The famous “ Tug-of-War ” — usually between the Ele-
phant and the Hippopotamus — is found in various parts of
Africa. In the American version, it will be remembered,
Brer Tarrypin ties the rope to a stump under water, after
giving the other end to Brer B’ar. This is probably owing
to the difficulty of finding in the New World two equally
matched competitors . 14

The tale as told by the Mpongwe (Gabun) is as follows : 15
The Tortoise, having worsted the Leopard in several en-
counters and finally caused his death, began to consider him-
self equal to the Elephant and to the Hippopotamus and to
say: “We three who are left are of equal power; we eat at
the same table and have the same authority.” The people
who heard this and similar speeches went and reported them
to the animals mentioned, who only laughed and said that they
could afford to despise him.

One day, these two met in the forest, and the Hippo asked
the Elephant if he had heard of the Tortoise’s boasts. The
Elephant replied: “Yes, I have heard. But I look upon it
with contempt. For I am Njagu. I am big. My foot is as
big as Ekaga’s body. And he says he is equal to me! But I
have not spoken of the matter, and I will not speak, unless I
hear Ekaga himself make his boast. And then I shall know
what I will do.” The Hippopotamus agreed to do likewise.

When the Tortoise heard of their threats, he set out to look
for the Elephant and, when he found him, addressed him
familiarly as “ Mwera ” — about equivalent to “Mate!”
The Elephant, in great indignation asked: “Whom do you
call Mwera? ” and the other coolly replied: “ You,” and pro-





PLATE XXXIII


1. Sacred friction-drum of the Southern Bambala.

2. Dance of the Malela, to greet the New Moon.
The chief (in European costume) is conducting in
the centre.

After photographs by E. Torday.




TORTOISE STORIES


3i5

ceeded to assert his claim of equality and suggested that they
should test it by a tug of war on the following day. To this
the Elephant unwillingly consented. It was agreed that “ if
one overpulls the other, he shall be considered the greater,
but if neither, then they were Mwera.”

The Tortoise then cut a long creeper in the forest — such
as in West Africa is called a “ bush-rope ” — and, handing
one end to the Elephant, went into the forest with the other,
telling him to begin pulling when he should give the signal
next day. He then went to find the Hippopotamus and, after
challenging him in like manner, and getting him to agree to
the contest, gave him the other end of the rope, saying, “ To-
morrow when you feel the vine shaken, know that I am ready
at the other end, and then you begin, and we will not stop to
eat or sleep until this test is ended.”

Each of the competitors — not very consistently, considering
the confidence they had previously expressed — went into the
forest “ to gather leaves of medicine with which to strengthen
his body.” Next morning, the Tortoise went to a spot half-
way between the two, where he had made a mark on the
ground, and shook the creeper, first towards one end and then
towards the other. The two then pulled with all their might,
and the Tortoise laughed as he sat and watched them. When
he felt hungry, he went off and ate his fill of mushrooms,
after which he returned home for a sleep, awoke late in the
afternoon and went back to the forest to see how the contest
was going. He found the rope stretched quite taut, and
though, from time to time, it was pulled a little way in one
direction or the other, yet this was soon neutralised by a pull
from the opposite side, and neither gained any advantage.

At last the Tortoise, growing tired, nicked the creeper with
his knife, whereon it parted and each of the combatants fell
violently to the ground, the Elephant bruising his leg badly
and the Hippopotamus his head. The Tortoise visited each


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


316

of them in turn, and in each case was acknowledged as an
equal. “ After that, whenever they three and others met to
talk in palaver, the three sat together on the highest seats.”

The Tortoise also figures in a tale of a somewhat unusual
kind, occurring in widely separated regions. The examples
hitherto collected are not numerous, and of the five which I
have noted, one has the Hare and another Hlakanyana in
place of the Tortoise. But there is a surprising agreement
between two forms collected at opposite ends of the Bantu
area — one from the Basuto, the other from the Benga of the
Cameroons.

Jacottet 16 thinks it may be a remnant of some ancient re-
ligious tradition, which is probably indigenous. It centres
about a tree whose fruit cannot be eaten without the permission
of the owner and then only by those who know its name.
(This is not expressly stated in any of the versions before me,
but the importance attached to the knowledge seems to imply
something of the kind.) 17 Messengers are sent to the owner
of the tree, who in each case gives the required information,
but every one forgets it on the way back — usually in conse-
quence of some accident — till at last the Tortoise (or, in one
case, the Hare) is more successful. In some instances, the
successful animal takes an unfair advantage of the others and
robs them of the fruit, throwing the blame on some innocent
party, and this is sometimes found in connection with other
incidents and without the episode of the name, as for instance,
in the story of the Hare already referred to , 18 where it follows
on the panic of the animals caused by the dropping of a fruit.

In two cases the owner of the tree is expressly stated to be
God (Leza, Maweza). In another, it is said that he, or more
probably she, for the word means “ grandmother,” was named
Koko. Elsewhere it is said to belong to “ the chief of the
animals,” and in the Ronga variant a woman, unnamed and
otherwise unaccounted for, appears to be in charge of it. One

TOTEMISM AND ANIMAL STORIES


289

the Bushmen held the Mantis (Kaggen, Cagn) to be a divine
or quasi-divine being. 47 He was concerned in creation 5 the
moon is his old shoe, which he flung up into the sky j 48 he makes
an eland and restores it to life when killed. “ Besides his own
proper name (Kaggen) he possesses several others, and so also
does his wife. . . . Their adopted daughter, the Porcupine
(whose real father is a monster named Khwai-hemm, the All-
devourer . . .) is married to Kwammang’a and has by him a
son, the Ichneumon, who plays an important part, particularly
in advising and assisting his grandfather, the Mantis, and in
chiding him for his misdeeds. ... It does not seem that he
is the object of any worship, or that prayers are addressed to
him.” 49

This seems to conflict with Mr. Orpen’s account, which con-
tains the touching prayer versified by Andrew Lang. 50 Still, it
is not surprising to find a different development of the idea in
people inhabiting areas so widely separated as those of the
respective informants. But, in any case, Kaggen’s character is
“ ondoyant et divers”: sometimes he appears creative and
beneficent, sometimes as tricky as Hubeane, for instance, when
he turns himself into a dead hartebeest and frightens out of
their wits the little girls who, delighted at finding such a prize,
skin and cut him up with their flint knives. 51 The head com-
plains of being uncomfortably carried on the back of the child
who is taking it home, and, when she drops it, calls out: “ Oh!
oh! my head! Oh! bad little person, hurting me in the head! ”
Then all the joints reunite and the revived hartebeest assumes
the shape of a man and chases the girls home. u Have you
been and cut up the old man, the Mantis,” asks their father,
“ while he lay, pretending to be dead, in front of you? ”

The Mantis has three children, one of whom, Gaunu-
Tsachau, was killed by the Baboons and afterwards brought
to life by his father — a process described at great length, and
remarkable because the dead child’s eye is treated as a kind of


290 AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY

germ or seed and kept in water till the whole body has grown
from it. 82

Finally, Kaggen and his son-in-law (by all accounts a less
exemplary character even than himself) are to be seen in the
rainbow, 53 Kaggen above and Kwammang’a underneath; and
the Moon (for which, as we have already seen, he is responsi-
ble) “ can talk, because he belongs to the Mantis, all of whose
things talk.” 54



PLATE XXX


1. The Story of the Mantis.

2. Bushman Idea of a Ghost.





CHAPTER XI

HARE AND JACKAL STORIES

T he hare, in one part of Africa the favorite hero
of folklore, is in others held to be distinctly unlucky.
The Abyssinians will not eat hare’s flesh, neither will the
Galla, and a hare crossing the path is by them considered the
worst of omens. The Hottentots, as already stated, connect
him with the Moon in a myth which relates how his blundering
brought irreparable disaster on mankind. The Bushmen say
that the Hare was once a human being, who assumed his pres-
ent shape when cursed by the Moon for his imbecility. They
have no objection to eating the Hare, but always carefully
avoid one particular muscle in the leg which, they think, was
taken over unchanged from his human form . 1

Various reasons have been given for the popularity of the
Hare in general Bantu tradition. Natives have sometimes
said that his habit of moving his mouth, as if talking to him-
self, indicates great wisdom. Something must be allowed for
the sympathy naturally inspired by the cleverness shown by a
weak and insignificant creature in escaping the pursuit of the
more powerful and ferocious beasts. And he is undoubtedly
among the most beautiful and attractive of “ small deer.”

It is sometimes denied that the African native is at all sensi-
tive to beauty in nature, living or inanimate} but a little first-
hand research is sufficient to show that this opinion is, at best,
only partially true. The Pokomo women, for instance, habit-
ually make songs in praise of various birds — songs which,
simple as they are, show both observation and sympathy.
Some of the tricks and adventures attributed elsewhere to


292


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


the Hare are told by the Zulus of Hlakanyana, a quasi-human
being who, in some respects, resembles our Tom Thumb, or
perhaps may be looked on as a sort of elf or pixy, though born
of human parents. It seems reasonable, in this case, to think
that the animal version of the story is the older one and the
other a later development 2 — favoured, no doubt, by the
story-teller’s inveterate habit of assuming that the animals are
the same as himself and his audience, or rather, of forgetting
that any points of difference exist: the Hare and the Hyena
hire themselves out to hoe a man’s garden ; the crow casts lots
like a diviner; a bird makes a drum and plays on it, and so
on, ad infinitum. “ Uncle Remus ” somewhere explains that
“ beasts ” were once upon a time just like “ folks the neces-
sity for such an explanation would never occur to the genuine
African . 3

Having mentioned “ Uncle Remus,” we may remark here
that for many of the “ Brer Rabbit ” stories African originals
have actually been found, and probably many, if not all, of
the remainder, can be similarly traced to their sources, though,
of course, they have all been adapted to American surround-
ings. Brer Fox and Brer Wolf have replaced the Hyena;
Brer B’ar is substituted for the Elephant; while the Lion makes
a few appearances in his own person, though under greatly
altered circumstances.

Whether or not Hlakanyana be considered as a development
of the Hare, the latter has a curious tendency to attract to
himself imported incidents belonging to other characters.
This is especially observable in East Africa, where there is a
certain confusion between the Hare and Abu Nuwas, the
Arab jester and hero of many more or less discreditable ad-
ventures. Thus, when the personality of Abu Nuwas has been
forgotten, banawasi has become a common noun in Swahili,
meaning “ a man who always has an answer ready , 4 who excels
in repartee.” Indeed, the name — if we may trust a some-


HARE AND JACKAL STORIES 293

what perplexing entry in Krapf’s Dictionary , has become
associated with the Hare, as is also evident from an instructive
parallel obtained by M. Junod at Lourengo Marques. Here,
some of the best-known adventures of Abu Nuwas 0 are related
of one Bonawasi — a name which Junod, influenced by the
idea that the story is Portuguese, explains as a corruption of
Bonifacio. One of the characters remarks, in admiration of
this man’s cleverness: “Truly, he is Nwachisisana,! ” — the
usual shivongo (honorary title) of the Hare.

In South Africa the contact of races has tended to produce
a certain confusion about the Hare, which, however, is easily
cleared up. The Basuto attribute one of his best-known ad-
ventures to the Jackal — “ probably through direct or indirect
Hottentot influence.” 6 Here the Hare appears as one of the
Jackal’s victims, a fact explained by the Hamitic view. “He
— he’s not clever,” said Abarea the Galla, “ his cleverness is
only in running away! ” And when I asked why, then, so
many tales were told about him — as, for instance, of his killing
the Lion by getting him to swallow a hot stone — the answer
was, “ Oh! that was not the Hare, it was the Gedal (jackal).”

Conversely, a story told me by Abarea about the Jackal
(which will be given later on) is told, by some Masai at least,
about the Hare. 7

The Basuto call the Hare ’ mutla , or, usually in the tales,
by the affectionate diminutive ’ mutlanyana . He is sometimes
opposed to an animal called hlolo , translated “ rabbit ” in
Jacottet’s version, and described by Brown as “ a small red
animal like a hare,” but apparently distinct both from the rock-
rabbit ( pela ) and the spring-hare ( tshipo ). 8 The point is of
interest, because it seems to mark an attempt at something like
compromise between the two views. The Bantu, unable to con-
ceive their beloved Hare in the role of a dupe and victim, have
insisted on his retaining his place, and put in some less es-
teemed congener to be a foil to him. Such might conceivably


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be the genesis of the “ March Hare,” as Madan calls him , 9
who plays the part elsewhere assigned to the Hyena or Brer
Fox. A tale, “ The Wise and Foolish Hares,” preserved in
Campbell’s Travels™ may be an indication of the same thing.
It would appear from the opening that the two hares in ques-
tion were both of the same species, “ accustomed to dwell on
the mountains in holes dug by themselves. ” The wise one
made several entrances to his burrow, the one who was not so
wise “ made a passage that went straight in, neither crooked
nor divided.” Consequently, when some ill-disposed person
“ kindled a fire on the outside in the direction of the wind,”
the foolish hare was suffocated. When she “ felt the smoke
and heat entering her cell, she cried out loudly: 1 Brother,
brother! come and help me, for I am almost suffocated! ’ but
the other paid no attention to her screams; he only laughed
and in sport desired her to stand on her head, which, while at-
tempting to do, she died. On entering the hole afterwards,
the live hare took the dead one by the ears and called out:
1 Stand up, my sister, or I shall eat you up ’; but he found
she was dead. After this, the wise hare, that had horns on his
forehead, began to talk of his wisdom in providing against
evil; but while he was boasting, a creature came down from the
heavens and snatched away his horns.”

They were ultimately restored to him, so he has presumably
kept them; and the author adds this curious note: “There is
an animal, resembling a hare, which has horns about four
inches long. The scull (sic) and horns of one is in the Mis-
sionary Museum.”

This, if not Neotragus , may be some small species of ante-
lope which has the same reputation as “ Cunnie Rabbit.” There
may be a further hint of some association or confusion between
it and the Hare in the fact — if fact it be — that Kalulu y the
name for “ hare ” in Chinyanja and many allied languages,
is elsewhere the name for some small antelope.


HARE AND JACKAL STORIES 295

It is also remarkable that the Hare in this story, after los-
ing his horns, is persecuted by mysterious unnamed beings
whose efforts to destroy him — though the methods employed
are different — recall the adventures of Hubeane and Kalika-
lanje. It is difficult to resist the suspicion that these heroes, like
the Algonkin Ioskeha in America, were originally identical with
the Hare. Perhaps the same might be said of Hlakanyana,
though the descriptions given by Callaway’s informants rather
suggest some sort of weasel. Hlakanyana, by the bye, kills the
Hare and makes a whistle out of his bones — as the Hare is
elsewhere said to do to other creatures. This may mark a
stage in the transition from the Bantu to the Hamitic hare.

In another tale given by Campbell, the Hare appears inci-
dentally as a rain-maker, which may be a link with the older
mythological conception hinted at above.

No one has yet attempted to weave the “ faicts et gestes ” of
the Hare into a connected whole, as was done by the unnamed
mediaeval poet, or poets, for Reynard the Fox. But it would
not be a difficult task and may well be accomplished some day.
M. Junod points out that the two tales to which he has given
the common title of “ Roman du Lievre ” 11 have more or
less of literary coherence, and each leads up to a distinct
climax j but they include only a few of even the most typical
incidents.

The first begins with a trick played on the Gazelle, the
Hare inducing her to get into a cooking-pot and boiling her
to death, as Hlakanyana does the Cannibal’s mother. He then
makes her horns into a musical instrument, 12 on which he plays,
frightening the whole country-side. The Hippopotamus lies
in wait for him and catches him, but is induced not to betray
him by the promise that the Hare will teach him to blow the
horns. He tries, but without success, and the treacherous Hare
persuades him to have first one lip and then the other cut off, on
the pretext that their thickness prevents his blowing properly. 13


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296

The Hippopotamus, in revenge, swallows the horns and the
Hare attempts to kill him, but is frustrated by the Dove, who
repeatedly warns the intended victim, till the Hare shoots and
destroys her, even to the last feather; he then shoots the
Hippopotamus, cuts him open and recovers his trumpet.
While he is washing it in the river, a Civet-cat steals the meat
which he has left on the ground; he smokes her out of the tree
in which she has taken refuge, kills her, and sells her skin,
living for some time on the proceeds. When these are ex-
hausted, he takes to stealing from people’s gardens, frighten-
ing the owners away by raising a cry that the enemy are
coming . 14 This trick works for some time, but at last the vil-
lagers catch him by setting up the image of a woman covered
with some sticky substance — a Tar Baby, in fact . 15 They
determine to kill him, but only succeed in killing their own
chief, while the Hare escapes.

The next story opens with an episode which occurs elsewhere
in other connections, even in European folklore. The Hare,
frightened (or pretending to be so?) by a sudden noise, runs
away, communicating the alarm to every one he meets, till
the whole population of the forest is running . 16 The connec-
tion between this and the next episode is not very clear: they
reach a tree, covered with sweet fruit which they eat, leaving,
at the Hare’s suggestion, one bunch for the use of the chief.
He steals this fruit himself during the night and contrives to
put the blame on the Elephant — much as Brer Rabbit brings
home to the innocent Brer Possum the theft of the butter 17 —
and the Elephant is accordingly put to death. But the Hare
cannot refrain from boasting of his exploit, is pursued, takes
refuge in a burrow, is caught, but escapes by the device of
calling out the equivalent to “ T’un loose dat stump-root en
ketch holt er me! ” 18 However, the pursuers stop the opening
of the burrow and leave him. He makes his way out at last,
nearly starved, and sets to work to weave a number of baskets.


HARE AND JACKAL STORIES 297

He then (by way of disguise) makes himself a wax head-
ring 19 and goes away to peddle his baskets at the Elephant’s
village. He is detected when the sun melts the wax, but runs
away, shaves his head, and coming back unrecognised, enters
into conversation with the village chief and, persuading him
to take a vapour bath, scalds him to death and makes his skull
into a drum, which he beats to call the villagers together, him-
self remaining hidden. He plays at hide and seek with them
for some time and finally escapes — it is not clearly stated
how. 20

But this is not an epic close — it is merely a pause in the
development of the story. There are endless additional inci-
dents, some of which may be placed before and some after the
above, while some, no doubt, are alternative versions. I will
content myself with recounting some of the most famous, be-
fore passing on to the tragic climax which so artistically rounds
off the whole. 21

At a time of drought, the animals agreed to dig a well,
being summoned for the purpose by the chief, sometimes —
but not always — specified as the Lion. The Hare, however,
refused to take his share in the task and, consequently, was
not allowed to draw water when the well was finished. 22 All
the animals resolved to take turns in watching the well. The
Hyena took the first watch and, after waiting about three
hours, heard the voice of the Hare, who strolled along carrying
two gourds, one empty and one full of honey, soliloquising
aloud: “ I don’t want any water — I don’t care for the water
of this well. I have sweet water of my own! ” Having raised
the Hyena’s curiosity, he gratified it by giving him a taste of
the honey, but, when he asked for more, refused it except on
condition of his allowing himself to be tied to a tree — alleging
that, such was the strength of the drink, he would otherwise
be unable to keep his feet. The Hyena consented and was
tied up; whereupon the Hare, instead of giving him the honey,


AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


298

laughed in his face, took all the water he wanted and went
his way. When the other animals came back in the morning
and found the Hyena tied up, he made some attempt to save
his face by declaring that he had been overpowered by
numbers, but no one believed him. The Lion undertook the
next watch, but was similarly beguiled, and the Hare added
insult to injury by bathing in the well after supplying himself
with water. Other animals tried their luck (one account
mentions the Elephant and the Buffalo) with no better result,
till at last the Tortoise volunteered. He hid under water
and kept quiet, never answering when the Hare shouted his
noisy greeting. The latter, after waiting and getting no
answer, concluded that the animals were now thoroughly
frightened, and stepped into the water, putting his foot on
what he took for a stone but which was in fact the Tortoise.
When he stooped to dip out the water, the Tortoise caught his
“ hand,” then, in spite of his struggles, the other; then both
feet, and so held him till the animals came up. They carried
him before the chief and began to discuss the manner of his
death, when he spoke up, and — less subtle than Brer Rabbit
— suggested that the way to kill him was to tie him up with
banana-leaves and throw him down in the sun. This was done,
and he lay quiet, till — the sun being high — the banana-leaves
dried up and began to crack. Some of the animals heard it and
reported to the chief: “The Hare will break loose! ” The
Hare heard and groaned languidly: “ Leave me alone — I am
just about to die! ” In a little while, he felt that the drying
process had gone far enough, stretched himself vigorously and,
as his bonds fell off, sprang away too quickly for any one to
catch him.

Totems, as Frazer points out , 3 are never worshipped in any
real sense; the relation “is one of friendship and kinship.”
The man “ identifies himself and his fellow-clansmen with his
totem ... he looks upon himself and his fellows as animals
of the same species, and on the other hand he regards the ani-
mals as in a sense human.” Totemism may sometimes develop
into worship of animals or plants, as may have been the case
in ancient Egypt. The Baganda have a “ python-god,”
Selwanga, whose temple is in Budu. His priests are members
of the “ Heart ” clan, and there is nothing in Roscoe’s account
to suggest that he is a totem ; 4 but, when we find that a tribe
to the northeast of Lake Victoria (the Kamalamba ) 5 have a
python totem, and that the two clans owning this totem pay
special honours to the python, his origin is pretty evident.
The Wawanga, a tribe allied to the Kamalamba, “ have certain
sacred rites connected with the python. . . . Straw images of
these snakes, with a pot of porridge or beer, and perhaps a
few feathers stuck into the ground beside them, are often
to be seen in the villages. In such a case, some one in the vil-
lage has recently met a python and offered it food, or a fowl,
and on his return has made this image of it.” 6 This applies
to the whole tribe — not to any particular clan, and would


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272

appear to be a transition stage between the practice of the
Kamalamba and that of the Baganda.

Again, totemism appears to exist, though becoming obsolete,
among the Ewe , 7 and three Ewe totems, the Python, the
Crocodile, and the Leopard, are enumerated by Ellis among
“ tribal deities.” It is true that he does not mention a Python
clan, but his list is admittedly incomplete, and it does include
a Snake clan (Ordanh-doj the Python god is Danh-bi), which
may be the same thing.

Totemism is sometimes confused with the idea that the dead
are re-incarnated in the form of animals j but the two notions
are really quite distinct, as is quite clear when we consider
what the Zulus say about the amadhlozi coming back as
snakes. All animals of a given class are totems ; but only a
diviner can tell for certain whether any individual snake is or
is not an idhlozi. Again, while other creatures besides snakes
may be re-incarnated ancestors, there appears to be no case of
their being appropriated to the particular clans, as they would
be if they were totems.

The Wachaga seem to be losing their hold on totemism —
at least only three totems are recognised nowadays — viz., the
Baboon, the Elephant, and the Python . 8 There are probably
others, e.g. the Wild Boar clan explain their name by saying
that their ancestor was once knocked over by a wild boar, and
they do not consider it an honour to be addressed by it. But
this seems to show that the real meaning has been forgotten.
The clans above mentioned believe themselves to be descended
from their namesakes, but whereas most peoples who still re-
tain a conscious belief in totemism think that their ancestor was
actually an animal — usually, one who took human shape in
order to found the family — the Wachaga represent the human
ancestor as having afterwards turned into an animal. This
alone is a sufficient indication that the idea has undergone some
change, and that totemism, as such, is more or less obsolete.


TOTEMISM AND ANIMAL STORIES


273

A seeming exception to this last remark is the case of the
Baboon clan. Their ancestor was a Baboon pure and simple
who, having quarrelled with his fellows, went and settled in
a village. However, the exception is only apparent, as the
Wachaga believe these apes to be degenerate human beings.
Certain people, being hard pressed by their enemies, fled into
the jungle, and finding, after a time, that their huts had been
burnt down and their fields wasted, gave up the attempt to
lead a settled life and have remained wild ever since. Hence
the founder of the clan was only returning to a state from
which his ancestors had fallen.

I think the notion of apes as degenerate men has been re-
ported from various parts of Africa, but the stories I have my-
self come in contact with, rather suggest the notion that they
are inferior beings trying to raise themselves to human status.
An East African tale relates how the Baboons, tired of being
driven away from people’s gardens, chose one of their number,
cut off his tail (by way of disguise), and sent him to settle in
the nearest village, directing him to marry a woman of the
place and then cultivate seven gardens, of which five were to
be left for his relations, while he and his wife were to live on
the other two. The arrangement worked well for a time;
but at last the wife grew tired of working so hard, “ hoeing
for those apes only! ” Her husband agreed with her; but
his kinsmen overheard them talking in this way and hastened
back to the Bush, where they informed the rest of the tribe.
It was resolved that his tail should be restored to him: so the
whole party set off for the village, carrying it with them and
singing:

“ Nyani, hge nyani , hala muchirao ! ”

“ Baboon, ho! baboon, come and take your tail! ”

When they arrived at his abode, he was not at home, having
gone to thatch his father-in-law’s house; but they followed


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AFRICAN MYTHOLOGY


him thither and kept on singing till the import of their song
reached him where he was, perched on the ridge-pole of the
hut. He seems to have thought no protests would serve him,
for he merely asked them to let him finish the roof, and then
descended and resumed his tail, much to the astonishment of
his wife and her family — this being the first intimation of
his real nature . 9

The Elephant totem of the Wachaga 10 belongs to the Wa-
konadai clan. The legend has it that a girl of this clan was
once given in marriage against her will to a man of the Wa-
kosalema. She refused to eat ordinary human food, subsisted
on leaves and grass, and finally turned into an elephant,
escaping into the forest. Since that time, elephants have
greatly increased and have taken to feeding in people’s gardens
which they formerly avoided. They never harm one of their
own clan, but if they meet a Mukosalema, they instantly
kill him or her.

There does not seem to be a legend about the origin of the
Python totem, which seems to have existed in many parts of
Africa, but Gutmann’s account is a very good illustration of
the way in which these people treat their totems. Whenever
a marriage has taken place, a feast is made for the Python,
and the young wife sweeps and adorns the hut with especial
care. It is said that the reptile always appears and throws
down in the court-yard some of the yellow berries which are
looked on as its peculiar treasure. It then enters the hut,
where the wife is seated on the ground, glides over her out-
stretched legs and, after helping itself to the milk and other
refreshments placed ready for it on a stool, passes out at the
door and disappears in the scrub.

Gutmann says that this great serpent is regarded as an em-
bodiment of an ancestor ; but this, as already pointed out, is
not the same thing as a totem: moreover, he adds that they
never pray or sacrifice to it, as they do to their ancestral spirits.


TOTEMISM AND ANIMAL STORIES


275

The relation between a man and his totem is further ex-
emplified by an experience of Mr. Hollis’s 11 among the
Nandi — a Hamitic tribe of East Africa. I give it in his own
words:

“ In March, 1908, I was on the point of encamping at the
foot of the Nandi escarpment. The porters were pitching the
tents, the cook had lit his fire, and I was having lunch. All
at once an ominous buzzing warned us that a swarm of bees
was near at hand, and in less than a minute we had to leave
our loads and fly, hotly pursued by the bees. . . . During
the course of the afternoon we tried two or three times to res-
cue our loads but without success, some of the porters being
badly stung in the attempt. At four o’clock, when I had just
decided to do nothing more till dark, a Nandi strolled into
camp and volunteered to quiet the bees. He told us that he
was of the Bee totem, and that the bees were his. He said
we were to blame for the attack, as we had lit a fire under the
tree in which their honey-barrel hung. He was practically
stark naked, but he started off at once to the spot where the
loads were, whistling loudly in much the same way as the
Nandi whistle to their cattle. We saw the bees swarm round
and on him, but beyond brushing them lightly from his arms
he took no notice of them and, still whistling loudly, proceeded
to the tree in which was their hive. In a few minutes he re-
turned, none the worse for his venture, and we were able to
fetch our loads.”

The Nandi have a Baboon and a Leopard clan, but (unless
it is included under the general designation of “ Snake ”)
there does not appear to be a Python among their totems.
The Hyena clan has some curious privileges and restrictions
and is very highly esteemed. I mention this, because the hy-
ena is to a certain extent respected by all Nandi, not merely
by those whose totem he is, and is also the object of what might
be called a cult among the Giryama and other tribes, who, as


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276

far as one knows, have no such totem. This may be a case of
totemism developing into zoolatry, as seems to have happened
with the Python.

The Thonga, according to Junod, 12 are not totemic, but
two tales 13 which he gives afford a strong presumption that
they once were. As these form excellent illustrations of the
subject, they may be given here. A young man married a girl
named Titishana, and, when the time came for him to take
her home, her parents said: “Take an elephant with you! ”
(There is nothing in the tale, as it stands, to lead up to this
astonishing offer, but it seems to be assumed that she would
take some animal with her to her new home 5 perhaps she had
begun by demanding the totem, and the parents made futile
attempts to buy her off.) She refused, saying: “Where
should I keep him? there is no forest near my husband’s vil-
lage.” They said: “ Take an antelope! ” but again she would
have none of it. “No! give me your cat! ” They would not
consent. “ You know that our life is bound up with the cat! ”
But the heartless daughter replied: “ That does not matter to
me! I may meet with bad luck if you refuse! ” So they
yielded and gave her the cat. When the young couple left
next day, the bride, without her husband’s knowledge, carried
the cat with her. On reaching their home, she secretly con-
structed a kraal for it and kept it there. When, subsequently,
she went out to cultivate her garden at a distance (no one
being left at home in the hut), she told the cat he might come
out and eat the cooked maize left in the pot. He did so, and,
after scraping out the pot, took down the kilt belonging to her
husband, and his rattles, put them on and began to dance,
singing:

“ Oh ho! Titishana! Where have you gone, Titishana?

You have gone away — va! va! va! ”

Then, fearing he might be caught, he restored the things


TOTEMISM AND ANIMAL STORIES


277


to their places and returned to his enclosure. He did the
same every morning as soon as Titishana had left for the
gardens, till, one day, he was overheard by some children,
who went to tell the master of the house. The man refused
to believe them, but hid himself near the door, and presently
saw the cat, wearing his own kilt and ornaments, begin to
dance. He fired at it and killed it, and, at the same moment,
Titishana, hoeing in her garden, fell down, as if seized by
sudden faintness. She called out: “They have killed me at
the village! ” and went home, crying aloud all the way. She
sat down by the door of the hut, telling her husband to wrap
the body in a mat — since she would die, if she saw it uncov-
ered — so that she could carry it to her own village. She
set out, her husband following behind, and on arriving, laid
the bundle down in the middle of the public place. It seems
there was no need to explain what had happened, for a woman
came up to her and said: “We offered you an elephant — you
refused; we offered you an antelope — you refused; have
you not now killed us all ? — tell me ! ” All the inhabitants
of the village assembled there saying: “ We, the Cat-clan,
are undone! ”

Then they unrolled the mat and, one after another — the
culprit being the first to do so — went to look at the dead cat,
each one falling down dead, as he or she caught sight of it.
The son-in-law went out, closed the gateway (the entrance
to the circular stockade surrounding the village) with a heap
of thorn-bushes, and went home, leaving the corpses to decay
unburied. He told his friends that, by killing the cat, he
had killed all these people, as their life depended on that
of the beast. Moreover, he lost the dowry he had paid for
his wife, since there was no one left alive from whom to
claim it.

It seems clear that this cat was a totem, and several points
in the tale are interesting. The wife wants to keep her own


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278

totem, but is evidently not expected to do so, and disaster
follows. Does this preserve an obscure memory of the
change from female to male kinship? The fact of the clan’s
life depending on the cat seems to favour the theory of the
totem as external soul, which Frazer one time adopted, but
afterwards saw reason to reject . 14

The same idea comes out in the story entitled “ Le Gam-
badeur de la Plaine ” — a translation of Matlangu wa libala ,
the shibongo or “ praise-name ” of the totem, which is here
a buffalo. The incidents are much the same as those given
above: the totem is kept secret from the husband, who finally
kills it in ignorance. There are some differences: the buffalo
is invisible to all except the wife 15 j the wife, unable to feed
him without betraying his presence, tells him to hide in the
forest and come out at night to graze in the gardens and he
performs various tasks for her — fetching wood and water,
cultivating, etc. When he is killed, the wife tries to revive
him by magical ceremonies, and would have succeeded, but
that she was interrupted at critical moments. Finally,
the members of the totem-clan, on hearing of the buffalo’s
death, kill themselves and their children, which seems a less
primitive conception than the other.

According to Dr. Mansfeld , 18 the Ekoi of the Cameroons
not only look on their totem animals as helpers and protectors,
but can influence them to do their bidding, e.g., attack their
enemies. The totem-group usually coincides with the village,
i.e., it has become a matter of locality rather than of descent.
The commonest totems are the hippopotamus, elephant,
crocodile, leopard, and gorilla — also fish and snakes. This
author gives a remarkable and beautiful photograph of a
stream frequented by the totem of the Hippopotamus clan,
where the monsters, being left undisturbed, are (or were)
perfectly tame: the illustration shows sixteen heads calmly
floating on the smooth surface quite regardless of the white



PLATE XXVIII


Harry Kambwiri (a native teacher of the Blantyre
Mission and excellent narrator of folk-tales), with
his wife Lucy. Both are mixed Yao and Nyanja
stock.





TOTEMISM AND ANIMAL STORIES


279


man and his camera. They came at the call of the chief who
acted as Dr. Mansfeld’s guide, and followed the party as
they walked along the bank.

The Ekoi theory seems to be that half of every man’s soul
lives in an animal of his totem species, therefore it is only
one particular animal which is his individual totem. Men
of the Elephant clan will hunt elephants and kill them with
impunity, so long as they spare those which are totems, for,
apparently, not all elephants are totems. A man and his own
totem will always instinctively recognise and avoid each other:
as for other men’s totems, if the hunter, as he should do, has
properly sacrificed to the elephant-fetish before starting, any
totem-elephant he meets will make himself known by holding
up one forefoot. Should he have omitted to sacrifice, he may
wound or kill a totem, and the man to whom that totem belongs
falls ill or dies, as the case may be. A man, it appears, can
change himself into a crocodile or a hippopotamus, or what-
ever his totem animal may be, and then make himself in-
visible, in order to revenge himself on an enemy. But, at the
same time, he can send the second half of his soul, embodied
in the totem, on a similar errand. This seems a superfluous
doubling of parts, and it is not explained why, given the power
of assuming the animal form, it should also be necessary
to become invisible. But the account comes from a careful
observer, who knew the Ekoi language and was able to get
his information at first-hand. It is possible that this particular
form of totemism may have been modified through contact
with the doctrine — so fully developed in West Africa —
of the Bush-Soul.

In many cases, totem-clans, besides being bound to respect
their totems, are subject to various ceremonial prohibitions
whose connection with the totem it is difficult to conjecture.
Thus the Nandi clan called Kipoiis , 17 whose totems are the
jackal and the cockroach , 18 “ may not make traps, although


Z80