African Folk Tales

Yoti Lane, Blair Hughes-Stanton

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9780486803036
• Topic: Literatura
• Subtopic: Colecciones literarias africanas

A delight for readers and listeners of all ages, these 25 traditional tales from West Africa were originally accompanied by music and dance. The stories' drama and folk wisdom shine through in these captivating retellings, which are illustrated by evocative woodcut illustrations.
Age-old fables explain why the leopard has no friends, how wild dogs became domesticated, and why pigs dig. Adventure stories recount a prince's quest for an ancient ivory horn and the struggles of two sisters, separated by slavery, to reunite. All of the stories are populated by memorable characters such as a greedy monkey and ambitious ants, a pair of crickets forced to sing for their supper, a couple of fishermen who compete for a bride, and the Man-in-the-Moon and his wife.

THE SNAKE IN THE FOREST

IN ALMOST EVERY village in West Africa there is a story about some animal, reptile, or bird, which has been living in the neighbourhood for a very long time, such as a crocodile, a tortoise, or a snake, as these creatures live to a very old age.

This is a story about a snake who had lived for such a long time that no one could remember when he first appeared. Because he was old, and cunning, and very large, all sorts of tales grew up around him, and many people were very frightened of him. It seems, however, that many of these stories were much exaggerated, for there is no real proof that he ever did anyone any great harm. In fact he often did a good turn, as you will hear from the story of Yere and the snake.

Yere was a pretty girl, and everyone said she would certainly make a very successful marriage, and right enough when the time came she married Sako, who was a strong and handsome young man, and a fine worker, and there seemed to be every hope that the marriage would be most blissful.

This alas was not to be. Before a year had passed a new girl named Tinou came to live in the village with her aunt. Tinou was an extraordinarily beautiful girl, she was also sly and lazy. She had resolved to make a good marriage, but it seemed to her that the most attractive man in the village was already married, because Sako was the one man she wanted. Now it is the custom in some parts of Africa for a man to have several wives if he can afford to keep them, so Tinou resolved to try and induce Sako to make her his second wife.

So every day the wicked Tinou made some opportunity to talk to Sako, and gradually they became more and more friendly, until after some months had passed, Sako decided he would marry Tinou. This upset Yere terribly but it was not until the marriage had taken place that she realised what a very bad thing it was. Once Tinou was married she used all her cunning to make Yere miserable, because she wanted to get rid of her.

Sako had no idea of the truth of matters because he was very busy, and he was quite bemused by Tinou, and thought Yere was making things worse than need be. Gradually Tinou poisoned his mind until poor Yere found that her position was worse than that of a slave. So she stayed at home, and moped, and wept, while Tinou went with Sako to feasts and dances. All the good things went to Tinou and not to Yere. Good food, fine clothes, jewellery, and everything else that was to be got.

So Yere became almost an outcast, and spent much of her time wandering in the forest, weeping. One day she was particularly unhappy because there was to be a great feast, and she had no new clothes. She decided she would stay away rather than appear in her old ones, while Tinou openly triumphed over her.

So she ran away to hide her grief in the lonely forest. She was sitting sobbing on a tree trunk when she heard a voice.

“What are you crying for?” the voice asked, in the low harsh tones of a very old man.

Yere looked round but could see nobody. Then near her feet she saw a large snake, watching her with strange beady eyes that looked as if they knew everything.

Between her sobs Yere told the snake about the cruel way Tinou and Sako treated her. “Now,” she ended, “all the neighbours know about it, and I am not going to the feast in my old clothes to be shamed before everyone.”

“Can’t you get any new clothes?” enquired the snake.

“No, Tinou takes everything, and pretends that I am sulking and don’t want to have new clothes.”

“Why don’t you explain to your husband?” asked the snake.

“Because I have some pride. I’ve tried to explain, but it’s no use. He just thinks I’m jealous.”

“I suppose you are too,” said the snake.

“Of course I am. Who wouldn’t be, but if he would treat me more fairly I’d put up with it. It’s the Law that a man can have two wives, but it’s not the Law that one should be made a Queen and the other a slave.”

The snake shook himself impatiently, and the sound was like dry leaves blowing along the ground.

“You people can be very silly and cruel,” he told Yere. “These things don’t happen between snakes.”

“I suppose not, but what can I do? I’m not a snake.”

“All the worse for you!”

The snake became thoughtful.

“What do you want to do? Go to the party in a fine dress and make Tinou sick with envy, and try and make your husband like you again?”

Yere nodded. “That’s what I want to do, but I haven’t got a dress, so I can’t.”

“You come along with me,” the snake said in such a firm voice that Yere could do nothing but follow him as he slid away through the grass. After they had gone a short distance the snake suddenly began to disappear; first his head, then his body, and then the tip of his tail vanished. Yere gazed helplessly after him. Why had she been so silly as to believe a snake, everyone knew they weren’t to be trusted. Tears rolled down her cheeks once more.

“Come, come,” she heard the dry voice say. “Don’t stand there crying. Stoop down and wriggle in.”

Yere then saw that a small bush had been bent by the passing of a heavy body. She found that behind the bush there was a hole between some rocks. The hole was just large enough for her to wriggle through. Down, down she went, into the dark, and once more she wondered if she had been tricked. Then quite suddenly, it was light again, and she was in a large cave, lit from a gap in the rocks high above.

Yere gazed around in amazement. The walls of the cave seemed to be hung with gleaming cloth all the colours of the rainbow. Yere looked at these bright, beautiful strips, and gaped.

“Pretty good, aren’t they?” chuckled the snake. “Those are my old clothes, but they are a lot better than yours, aren’t they?”

“They are beautiful!” Yere gasped. “Much more beautiful than any clothes I’ve seen before.”

“Of course they are. Now take your choice. Pick out one to wear at the feast.”

“You mean you’re going to give me one?”

The snake shook his head.

“That might cause trouble in the end. I’ll lend you one.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Yere sobbed.

“You’ll thank me best by drying your tears, looking pretty and cheerful again so that you can do my clothes credit and have a good time at the feast. Now, which one will you choose?”

Yere walked round fingering the beautiful skins, and finally chose one that seemed to hold all the colours of the setting sun.

“This one, please,” Yere said humbly. “When shall I bring it back?”

“Bring it back at sunset in three days’ time, and if it’s in good order you may have the loan of it again some time, or of any of the others.”

Yere felt overcome with gratitude.

“Oh, thank you, thank you. You are very good to me.”

“I don’t like people crying round my forest disturbing my afternoon nap. It’s uncomfortable. If you think wearing my old skin is likely to make things better, then I can have my nap in peace.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will,” Yere asssured him. “And I’ll take great care of your skin.”

The snake puffed himself a little.

“You’d better. If you don’t I shall be very, very cross. I’ve never lent anything to anyone before.”

Yere slipped away and walked through the forest as if on air. Help had certainly come from an unexpected quarter, and she pinned all her hopes on the idea that if only her husband could see her as he used to do, looking beautiful, and carefree, he would cease to neglect her.

Yet she felt that in taking the snake skin she was taking a risk also. Ever since she was a little girl she had heard about the ancient, mysterious snake, who was so powerful. Suppose some accident befell the dress, what then? She was perfectly well aware that if Tinou knew about the skin she would destroy it if she got the chance.

Yere stopped when she reached the edge of the village. It was deserted; the people had not yet come back from their farms. Yere slipped quickly to her hut, hid the snakeskin, and then set about preparing supper. She could hide the skin but she could not hide the light in her eyes, and Tinou looked at her curiously as she went about her tasks.

“Where did you spend the afternoon?” asked Tinou, wondering what had happened to make Yere cheerful. “Oh, I just went for a walk in the forest,” Yere replied. “You spend a lot of time in the forest,” Tinou remarked. “Perhaps you have friends there?”

“Perhaps I have,” Yere answered airily. She felt quite safe because no one ever went to the remote corner where the snake lived; everyone was too much afraid of him.

Still Tinou was not satisfied. She could scarcely eat her supper for wondering what it was that had caused Yere to change from someone utterly crushed to a cheerful girl again. “Anyhow she won’t dare to come to the feast in her old rags, and even if she does Sako won’t notice her. Maybe I can manage to do something to provoke her, and then Sako will send her back to her own people in disgrace. Then I’ll be his first, and only wife,” thought Tinou.

Sako had come in late to supper, and he was too hurried to notice any change in Yere, even if he had had eyes for her, which he had not. By this time he had come to believe that Tinou’s criticisms of Yere were true, that she was jealous and ill-humoured, and that perhaps he had made a mistake in marrying her in the first place.

After supper Yere went quietly to her hut, and sat there waiting for the others to go to the feast. Soon she heard them pass.

“Where is Yere? Isn’t she coming?” she heard Sako ask Tinou.

“She said she didn’t want to come. She was quite disagreeable about it,” lied Tinou. “It’s better for her to remain at home as she’s so disagreeable.”

“Perhaps I’d better go in and speak to her,” Sako suggested.

“Why should you bother,” Tinou asked swiftly. “Let us forget about her, and be happy. You know she only makes you miserable,” and she seized his hand, and dragged him along the path.

Tears started to Yere’s eyes, but she fought them back. Then she bathed, and dressed her hair, put on what ornaments Tinou had left her, and lastly draped herself in the snakeskin. Then she set off for the feast.

By this time the feast was at its height, and Tinou felt very satisfied with herself. She was the most beautiful woman there. All the other women envied her, and no one spoke of Yere. Sako also seemed to have completely forgotten his first wife. “Yere might just as well not exist,” Tinou told herself triumphantly.

Suddenly there was silence, and Tinou looked round to see what had happened. A woman was standing in the firelight. A woman who made everyone stare and gasp because she was so beautiful. She was dressed in clothes such as no one had ever seen before. Her dress seemed to reflect all the colours of the firelight, almost as if she were covered in jewels.

“Why it’s Yere,” Tinou whispered in amazement. Sako was so surprised that he rose to his feet and went towards her, which made Tinou furious. Then the others began to crowd round Yere also, telling her how beautiful she was, and how pleased they were to see her looking well once more.

Sako led her to the fire, and everyone made much of her. After this had gone on for some time Tinou became furious. She rushed at Yere and shouted, “Where did you get the dress? Did you steal it, or did you steal something from my husband to obtain it? It is disgraceful that the wife of a farmer should wear such clothes.”

“I came by the dress honestly,” Yere said quietly. “Sako’s goods have not paid for it.”

“I don’t believe you,” screamed Tinou. “Sako, send her home. She is lying.”

At this the people began to murmur because they had known Yere all their lives, and they did not believe that she would do anything dishonourable. Besides one did not make scenes at a feast.

“We have no wish that Yere should go,” said an old woman. “If you cannot keep your temper, Tinou...