(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 19, 20.)

The wild animals, it is said, were once assembled at the Lion’s. When the Lion was asleep, the Jackal persuaded the little Fox1 to twist a rope of ostrich sinews, in order to play the Lion a trick. They took ostrich sinews, twisted them, and fastened the rope to the Lion’s tail, and the other end of the rope they tied to a shrub. When the Lion awoke, and saw that he was tied up, he became angry, and called the animals together. When they had assembled, he said (using this form of conjuration)— [34]

Then answered the animal to whom the question was first put—

All answered the same; but when he asked the little Fox, the little Fox said—

Then the Lion tore the rope made of sinews, and ran after the little Fox. But the Jackal said—

“My boy, thou son of the lean Mrs. Fox, thou wilt never be caught.”

Truly the Lion was thus beaten in running by the little Fox. [35]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 18, 19.)

The Lion and the Jackal, it is said, were one day lying in wait for elands. The Lion shot (with the bow) and missed, but the Jackal hit and sang out, “Hah! Hah!” The Lion said, “No, you did not shoot anything. It was I who hit.” The Jackal answered, “Yea, my father, thou hast hit.” Then they went home in order to return when the eland was dead, and cut it up. The Jackal, however, turned back, unknown to the Lion, hit his nose so that the blood ran on the spoor of the elands, and followed their track thus, in order to cheat the Lion. When he had gone some distance, he returned by another way to the dead eland, and creeping into its carcase, cut out all the fat.

Meanwhile the Lion followed the bloodstained spoor of the Jackal, thinking that it was elands’ blood, and only when he had gone some distance did he find out that he had been deceived. He then returned on the [36]Jackal’s spoor, and reached the dead eland, where, finding the Jackal in its carcase, he seized him by his tail and drew him out with a swing.

The Lion upbraided the Jackal with these words: “Why do you cheat me?” The Jackal answered: “No, my father, I do not cheat you; you may know it, I think. I prepared this fat for you, father.” The Lion said: “Then take the fat and bring it to your mother” (the Lioness); and he gave him the lungs to take to his own wife and children.

When the Jackal arrived, he did not give the fat to the Lion’s wife, but to his own wife and children; he gave, however, the lungs to the Lion’s wife, and he pelted the Lion’s little children with the lungs, saying:

He said to the Lioness, “I go to help my father” (the Lion); but he went quite away with his wife and children. [37]

(From a German original Manuscript in Sir G. Grey’s Library, viz., H. C. Knudsen’s “Notes on the Hottentots,” pp. 11, 12.)

The Lion and the Jackal went together a-hunting. They shot with arrows. The Lion shot first, but his arrow fell short of its aim; but the Jackal hit the game, and joyfully cried out, “It has hit.” The Lion looked at him with his two large eyes; the Jackal, however, did not lose his countenance, but said, “No, Uncle, I mean to say that you have hit.” Then they followed the game, and the Jackal passed the arrow of the Lion without drawing the latter’s attention to it. When they arrived at a cross-way, the Jackal said, “Dear Uncle, you are old and tired; stay here.” The Jackal went then on a wrong track, beat his nose, and, in returning, let the blood drop from it like traces of game. “I could not find anything,” he said, “but I met with traces of blood. You had better go yourself to look for it. In the meantime I shall go this other way.” The Jackal soon found the killed animal, crept inside of it, and devoured the best portion; [38]but his tail remained outside, and when the Lion arrived, he got hold of it, pulled the Jackal out, and threw him on the ground with these words: “You rascal!” The Jackal rose quickly again, complained of the rough handling, and asked, “What have I then now done, dear Uncle? I was busy cutting out the best part.” “Now let us go and fetch our wives,” said the Lion; but the Jackal entreated his dear Uncle to remain at the place because he was old. The Jackal went then away, taking with him two portions of the flesh, one for his own wife, but the best part for the wife of the Lion. When the Jackal arrived with the flesh, the children of the Lion saw him, began to jump, and clapping their hands, cried out, “There comes Uncle with flesh!” The Jackal threw, grumbling, the worst portion to them, and said, “There, you brood of the big-eyed one!” Then he went to his own house and told his wife immediately to break up the house, and to go where the killed game was. The Lioness wished to do the same, but he forbade her, and said that the Lion would himself come to fetch her.

When the Jackal, with his wife and children, had arrived in the neighbourhood of the killed animal, he ran into a thorn bush, scratched his face so that it bled, and thus made his appearance before the Lion, [39]to whom he said, “Ah! what a wife you have got. Look here, how she scratched my face when I told her that she should come with us. You must fetch her yourself; I cannot bring her.” The Lion went home very angry. Then the Jackal said, “Quick, let us build a tower.” They heaped stone upon stone, stone upon stone, stone upon stone; and when it was high enough, everything was carried to the top of it. When the Jackal saw the Lion approaching with his wife and children, he cried out to him, “Uncle, whilst you were away we have built a tower, in order to be better able to see game.” “All right,” said the Lion; “but let me come up to you.” “Certainly, dear Uncle; but how will you manage to come up? We must let down a thong for you.” The Lion ties himself to the thong, and is drawn up; but when he is nearly at the top the thong is cut by the Jackal, who exclaims, as if frightened, “Oh, how heavy you are, Uncle! Go, wife, fetch me a new thong.” (“An old one,” he said aside to her.) The Lion is again drawn up, but comes of course down in the same manner. “No,” said the Jackal, “that will never do; you must, however, manage to come up high enough, so that you may get a mouthful at least.” Then aloud he orders his wife to prepare a good piece, but aside he tells her to make a [40]stone hot, and to cover it with fat. Then he drew up the Lion once more, and, complaining that he is very heavy to hold, he tells him to open his mouth, whereupon he throws the hot stone down his throat. When the Lion has devoured it, he entreats and requests him to run as quickly as possible to the water. [41]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 7, 8.)

The Jackal, it is said, married the Hyena, and carried off a cow belonging to ants, to slaughter her for the wedding; and when he had slaughtered her, he put the cow-skin over his bride; and when he had fixed a pole (on which to hang the flesh), he placed on the top of the pole (which was forked) the hearth for cooking, in order to cook upon it all sorts of delicious food. There came also the Lion to the spot, and wished to go up. The Jackal, therefore, asked his little daughter for a thong with which he could pull the Lion up, and he began to pull him up; and when his face came near to the cooking-pot, he cut the thong in two, so that the Lion tumbled down. Then the Jackal upbraided his little daughter with these words: “Why do you give me such an old thong?” And he added, “Give me a fresh thong.” She gave him a new thong, and he pulled the Lion up again, and when his face came near the pot, which stood on [42]the fire, he said, “Open your mouth.” Then he put into his mouth a hot piece of quartz which had been boiled together with the fat, and the stone went down, burning his throat. Thus died the Lion.

There came also the ants running after the cow, and when the Jackal saw them he fled. Then they beat the bride in her brookaross dress. The Hyena, believing that it was the Jackal, said—

But when she had bitten a hole through the cow-skin, she saw that they were other people; then she fled, falling here and there, yet she made her escape. [43]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 5, 6.)

A White Man, it is said, met a Snake upon whom a large stone had fallen and covered her, so that she could not rise. The White Man lifted the stone off the Snake, but when he had done so, she wanted to bite him. The White Man said, “Stop! let us both go first to some wise people.” They went to the Hyena, and the White Man asked him, “Is it right that the Snake should want to bite me, though I helped her, when she lay under a stone and could not rise?”

The Hyena (who thought he would get his share of the White Man’s body) said: “If you were bitten what would it matter?”

Then the Snake wanted to bite him, but the White Man said again: “Wait a little, and let us go to other wise people, that I may hear whether this is right.”

They went and met the Jackal. The White Man said to the Jackal: “Is it right that the Snake wants [44]to bite me, though I lifted up the stone which lay upon her?”

The Jackal replied: “I do not believe that the Snake could be covered by a stone and could not rise. Unless I saw it with my two eyes, I would not believe it. Therefore, come let us go and see at the place where you say it happened whether it can be true.”

They went, and arrived at the place where it had happened. The Jackal said: “Snake, lie down, and let thyself be covered.”

The Snake did so, and the White Man covered her with the stone; but although she exerted herself very much, she could not rise. Then the White Man wanted again to release the Snake, but the Jackal interfered, and said: “Do not lift the stone. She wanted to bite you; therefore she may rise by herself.”

Then they both went away and left the Snake under the stone. [45]

(From a German original Manuscript in Sir G. Grey’s Library, H. C. Knudsen’s “Notes on the Hottentots,” p. 11.)

A Dutchman was walking by himself, and saw a Snake lying under a large stone. The Snake implored his help; but when she had become free, she said, “Now I shall eat you.”

The Man answered, “That is not right. Let us first go to the Hare.”

When the Hare had heard the affair, he said, “It is right.” “No,” said the Man, “let us ask the Hyena.”

The Hyena declared the same, saying, “It is right.”

“Now let us at last ask the Jackal,” said the Man in his despair.

The Jackal answered very slowly and considerately, doubting the whole affair, and demanding to see first the place, and whether the Man was able to lift the stone. The Snake lay down, and the Man, to prove the truth of his account, put the stone again over her.

When she was fast, the Jackal said, “Now let her lie there.” [46]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 30, 31.)

The Jackal and the Hyena were together, it is said, when a white cloud rose. The Jackal ascended upon it, and ate of the cloud as if it were fat.

When he wanted to come down, he said to the Hyena, “My sister, as I am going to divide with [47]thee, catch me well.” So she caught him, and broke his fall. Then she also went up and ate there, high up on the top of the cloud.

When she was satisfied, she said, “My greyish brother, now catch me well.” The greyish rogue said to his friend, “My sister, I shall catch thee well. Come therefore down.”

He held up his hands, and she came down from the cloud, and when she was near, the Jackal cried out (painfully jumping to one side), “My sister, do not take it ill. Oh me! oh me! A thorn has pricked me, and sticks in me.” Thus she fell down from above, and was sadly hurt.

Since that day, it is said, that the Hyena’s left hind foot is shorter and smaller than the right one. [48]

(From Sir James E. Alexander’s “Expedition of Discovery into the Interior of Africa,” vol. ii. pp. 246, 247.)

THE HYENA.

(Addressing her young ones, on her return from a marauding expedition, with regard to the perils she had encountered).

Once upon a time a Jackal, who lived on the borders of the colony, saw a waggon returning from the seaside laden with fish. He tried to get into the waggon from behind, but he could not; he then ran on before, and lay in the road as if dead. The waggon came up to him, and the leader cried to the driver, “Here is a fine kaross for your wife!” [49]

“Throw it into the waggon,” said the driver, and the Jackal was thrown in.

The waggon travelled on through a moonlight night, and all the while the Jackal was throwing the fish out into the road; he then jumped out himself, and secured a great prize. But a stupid old Hyena coming by, ate more than her share, for which the Jackal owed her a grudge; so he said to her, “You can get plenty of fish, too, if you lie in the way of a waggon as I did, and keep quite still whatever happens.”

“So!” mumbled the Hyena.

Accordingly, when the next waggon came from the sea, the Hyena stretched herself out in the road.

“What ugly thing is this?” cried the leader, and kicked the Hyena. He then took a stick and thrashed her within an inch of her life. The Hyena, according to the directions of the Jackal, lay quiet as long as she could; she then got up and hobbled off to tell her misfortune to the Jackal, who pretended to comfort her.

“What a pity,” said the Hyena, “that I have not such a handsome skin as you!” [50]

(From Sir James E. Alexander’s “Expedition of Discovery into the Interior of Africa,” vol. ii. p. 250.)

A Jackal and a Hyena went and hired themselves to a man to be his servants. In the middle of the night the Jackal rose and smeared the Hyena’s tail with some fat, and then ate all the rest of it which was in the house. In the morning the man missed his fat, and he immediately accused the Jackal of having eaten it.

“Look at the Hyena’s tail,” said the rogue, “and you will see who is the thief.” The man did so, and then thrashed the Hyena till she was nearly dead. [51]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 29, 30.)

The Lion, it is said, was ill, and they all went to see him in his suffering. But the Jackal did not go, because the traces of the people who went to see him did not turn back. Thereupon, he was accused by the Hyena, who said, “Though I go to look, yet the Jackal does not want to come and look at the man’s sufferings.”

Then the Lion let the Hyena go, in order that she might catch the Jackal; and she did so, and brought him.

The Lion asked the Jackal: “Why did you not come here to see me?” The Jackal said, “Oh no! when I heard that my uncle was so very ill, I went to the witch (doctor), to consult him, whether and what medicine would be good for my uncle against the pain. The doctor said to me, ‘Go and tell your uncle to take hold of the Hyena and draw off her skin, and put it on while it is still warm. Then he [52]will recover.’ The Hyena is one who does not care for my uncle’s sufferings.”

The Lion followed his advice, got hold of the Hyena, drew the skin over her ears, whilst she howled with all her might, and put it on. [53]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 13, 14.)

The Jackal, it is said, came once to the Dove, who lived on the top of a rock, and said, “Give me one of your little children.” The Dove answered: “I shall not do anything of the kind.” The Jackal said, “Give it me at once! Otherwise, I shall fly up to you.” Then she threw one down to him.

He came back another day, and demanded another little child, and she gave it to him. After the Jackal had gone, the Heron came, and asked, “Dove, why do you cry?” The dove answered him: “The Jackal has taken away my little children; it is for this that I cry.” He asked her, “In what manner can he take them?” She answered him: “When he asked me I refused him; but when he said, ‘I shall at once fly up, therefore give it me,’ I threw it down to him.” The Heron said, “Are you such a fool as to give your children to the Jackals, who cannot fly?” Then, with the admonition to give no more, he went away. [54]

The Jackal came again, and said, “Dove, give me a little child.” The Dove refused, and told him that the Heron had told her that he could not fly up. The Jackal said, “I shall catch him.”

So when the Heron came to the banks of the water, the Jackal asked him: “Brother Heron, when the wind comes from this side, how will you stand?” He turned his neck towards him and said, “I stand thus, bending my neck on one side.” The Jackal asked him again, “When a storm comes and when it rains, how do you stand?” He said to him: “I stand thus, indeed, bending my neck down.”

Then the Jackal beat him on his neck, and broke his neck in the middle.

Since that day the Heron’s neck is bent. [55]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, p. 29.)

The Cock, it is said, was once overtaken by the Jackal and caught. The Cock said to the Jackal, “Please, pray first (before you kill me) as the white man does.” The Jackal asked, “In what manner does he pray? Tell me.” “He folds his hands in praying,” said the Cock. The Jackal folded his hands and prayed. Then the Cock spoke again: “You ought not to look about you as you do. You had better shut your eyes.” He did so; and the Cock flew away, upbraiding at the same time the Jackal with these words: “You rogue! do you also pray?”

There sat the Jackal, speechless, because he had been outdone. [56]

(The original, in the o Tyi-hereró or Damara language, is in the Library of Sir G. Grey, J. Rath’s Manuscript, pp. 27, 29.)

Two things, the Elephant and the Rain, had a dispute. The Elephant said, “If you say that you nourish me, in what way is it that you do so?” The Rain answered, “If you say that I do not nourish you, when I go away, will you not die?” And the Rain then departed.

The Elephant said, “Vulture! cast lots to make [60]rain for me?” The Vulture said, “I will not cast lots.”

Then the Elephant said to the Crow, “Cast lots!” who answered, “Give the things with which I may cast lots.” The Crow cast lots and rain fell. It rained at the lagoons, but they dried up, and only one lagoon remained.

The Elephant went a-hunting. There was, however, the Tortoise, to whom the Elephant said, “Tortoise, remain at the water!” Thus the Tortoise was left behind when the Elephant went a-hunting.

There came the Giraffe, and said to the Tortoise, “Give me water!” The Tortoise answered, “The water belongs to the Elephant.”

There came the Zebra, who said to the Tortoise, “Give me water!” The Tortoise answered, “The water belongs to the Elephant.”

There came the Gemsbok, and said to the Tortoise, “Give me water!” The Tortoise answered, “The water belongs to the Elephant.”

There came the Wildebeest, and said, “Give me water!” The Tortoise said, “The water belongs to the Elephant.”

There came the Roodebok, and said to the Tortoise, “Give me water!” The Tortoise answered, “The water belongs to the Elephant.” [61]

There came the Springbok, and said to the Tortoise, “Give me water!” The Tortoise said, “The water belongs to the Elephant.”

There came the Jackal, and said to the Tortoise, “Give me water!” The Tortoise said, “The water belongs to the Elephant.”

There came the Lion, and said, “Little Tortoise, give me water!” When the little Tortoise was about to say something, the Lion got hold of it and beat it; the Lion drank of the water, and since then the animals drink water.

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 asked, “Little Tortoise, shall I chew you or swallow you down?” The little Tortoise said, “Swallow me, 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 off his liver, heart, and kidneys. The Elephant said, “Little Tortoise, you kill me.”

So the Elephant died; but the little Tortoise came out of his dead body, and went wherever it liked. [62]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, p. 5.)

The Giraffe and the Tortoise, they say, met one day. The Giraffe said to the Tortoise, “At once I could trample you to death.” The Tortoise, being afraid, remained silent. Then the Giraffe said, “At once I could swallow you.” The Tortoise said, in answer to this, “Well, I just belong to the family of those whom it has always been customary to swallow.” Then the Giraffe swallowed the Tortoise; but when the latter was being gulped down, it stuck in the Giraffe’s throat, [63]and as the latter could not get it down, he was choked to death.

When the Giraffe was dead, the Tortoise crawled out and went to the Crab (who is considered as the mother of the Tortoise), and told her what had happened. Then the Crab said—

The Tortoise answered its mother and said—

Then they went and fed for a whole year on the remains of the Giraffe. [64]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, of this little Namaqualand Fable, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 33, 35.)

One day, it is said, the following story happened. The Mouse had torn the clothes of Itkler (the tailor), [66]who then went to the Baboon, and accused the Mouse with these words:—

“In this manner I come to thee:—The Mouse has torn my clothes, but will not know anything of it, and accuses the Cat; the Cat protests likewise her innocence, and says the Dog must have done it; but the Dog denies it also, and declares the Wood has done it; and the Wood throws the blame on the Fire, and says, ‘The Fire did it;’ the Fire says, ‘I have not, the Water did it;’ the Water says, ‘The Elephant tore the clothes;’ and the Elephant says, ‘The Ant tore them.’ Thus a dispute has arisen among them. Therefore I, Itkler, come to thee with this proposition: Assemble the people and try them, in order that I may get satisfaction.”

Thus he spake, and the Baboon assembled them for trial. Then they made the same excuses which had been mentioned by Itkler, each one putting the blame upon the other.

So the Baboon did not see any other way of punishing them, save through making them punish each other; he therefore said—

“Mouse, give Itkler satisfaction.”

The Mouse, however, pleaded not guilty. But the Baboon said, “Cat, bite the Mouse.” She did so.

He then put the same question to the Cat, and when [67]she exculpated herself, the Baboon called to the Dog, “Here, bite the Cat.”

In this manner the Baboon questioned them all, one after the other, but they each denied the charge. Then he addressed the following words to them, and said—

“Ant, bite the Elephant in his most tender parts.”

They did so, and since that day they cannot any longer agree with each other.

The Ant enters into the Elephant’s most tender parts, and bites him.

Through this judgment Itkler got satisfaction, and addressed the Baboon in the following manner:— “Yes! Now I am content, since I have received satisfaction, and with all my heart I thank thee, Baboon, because thou hast exercised justice on my behalf, and given me redress.” [68]

Then the Baboon said, “From to-day I will not any longer be called Jan, but Baboon shall be my name.”

Since that time the Baboon walks on all fours, having probably lost the privilege of walking erect through this foolish judgment.(?) [69]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 14, 15.)

The Baboon, it is said, once worked bamboos, sitting on the edge of a precipice, and the Lion stole upon him. The Baboon, however, had fixed some round, glistening, eye-like plates on the back of his head. When, therefore, the Lion crept upon him, he thought, when the Baboon was looking at him, that he sat with his back towards him, and crept with all his might upon him. When, however, the Baboon turned his back towards him, the Lion thought that he was seen, and hid himself. Thus, when the [70]Baboon looked at him, he crept upon him. Whilst the Baboon did this, the Lion came close upon him. When he was near him the Baboon looked up, and the Lion continued to creep upon him. The Baboon said (aside), “Whilst I am looking at him he steals upon me, whilst my hollow eyes are on him.”

When at last the Lion sprung at him, he lay (quickly) down upon his face, and the Lion jumped over him, falling down the precipice, and was dashed to pieces. [71]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, p. 17.)

The Baboons, it is said, used to disturb the Zebra Mares in drinking. But one of the Mares became the mother of a foal. The others then helped her to suckle (the young stallion), that he might soon grow up.

When he was grown up, and they were in want of water, they brought him to the water. The Baboons, [72]seeing this, came, as they formerly were used to do, into their way, and kept them from the water.

While the Mares stood thus, the Stallion stepped forward, and spoke to one of the Baboons, “Thou gum-eater’s child!”

The Baboon said to the Stallion, “Please open thy mouth, that I may see what thou livest on.” The Stallion opened his mouth, and it was milky.

Then the Stallion said to the Baboon, “Please open thy mouth also, that I may see.” The Baboon did so, and there was some gum in it. But the Baboon quickly licked some milk off the Stallion’s tongue. The Stallion on this became angry, took the Baboon by his shoulders, and pressed him upon a hot, flat rock. Since that day the Baboon has a bald place on his back.

The Baboon said, lamenting, “I, my mother’s child, I, the gum-eater, am outdone by this milk-eater!”

[74]

(From Sir James E. Alexander’s “Expedition of Discovery into the Interior of Africa,” vol. ii. pp. 234, 235.)

The children belonging to a kraal were playing at some little distance from the huts with bows and arrows; in the evening they all returned home, save one, a boy of five or six years old, who lingered behind, and was soon surrounded by a troop of baboons, who carried him up a mountain.

The people turned out to recover the boy, and for days they hunted after him in vain; he was nowhere to be seen; the baboons also had left the neighbourhood.

A year after this had occurred, a mounted hunter came to the kraal from a distance, and told the people that he had crossed at such a place the spoor of baboons, along with the footmarks of a child. The people went to the place which the hunter had indicated, and they soon saw what they were in search of, viz., the boy, sitting on a pinnacle of rock, in company with a large baboon. The moment the people [75]approached, the baboon took up the boy, and scampered off with him; but, after a close pursuit, the boy was recovered. He seemed quite wild, and tried to run away to the baboons again; however, he was brought back to the kraal, and when he recovered his speech, he said that the baboons had been very kind to him; that they ate scorpions and spiders themselves, but brought him roots, gum, and wild raisins, seeing that he did not touch the two first-named delicacies, and that they always allowed him to drink first at the waters. [76]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 3, 4.)

The Lion, it is said, used once to fly, and at that time nothing could live before him. As he was unwilling that the bones of what he caught should be broken into pieces, he made a pair of White Crows watch the bones, leaving them behind at the kraal whilst he went a-hunting. But one day the great Frog came there, broke the bones in pieces, and said, “Why can men and animals live no longer?” And he added these words, “When he comes, tell him that I live at yonder pool; if he wishes to see me, he must come there.”

The Lion, lying in wait (for game), wanted to fly up, but found he could not fly. Then he got angry, [78]thinking that at the kraal something was wrong, and returned home. When he arrived, he asked, “What have you done that I cannot fly?” Then they answered and said, “Some one came here, broke the bones into pieces, and said, ‘If he wants me, he may look for me at yonder pool!’ ” The Lion went, and arrived while the Frog was sitting at the water’s edge, and he tried to creep stealthily upon him. When he was about to get hold of him, the Frog said, “Ho!” and, diving, went to the other side of the pool, and sat there. The Lion pursued him; but as he could not catch him he returned home.

From that day, it is said, the Lion walked on his feet, and also began to creep upon (his game); and the White Crows became entirely dumb since the day that they said, “Nothing can be said of that matter.” [79]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 31, 33.)

It is said that when the Lion and ǀgurikhoisip1 (the Only man), together with the Baboon, the Buffalo, and other friends, were playing one day at a certain game, there was a thunderstorm and rain at ǂaroχaams.2 The Lion and ǀgurikhoisip began to quarrel. “I shall run to the rain-field,” said the Lion. ǀGurikhoisip said also, “I shall run to the rain-field.” As neither would concede this to the other, they separated (angrily). After they had parted, the Lion went to tell his Mother those things which they had both said. [80]

His Mother said to him, “My Father! that Man whose head is in a line with his shoulders and breast, who has pinching weapons, who keeps white dogs, who goes about wearing the tuft of a tiger’s tail, beware of him!” The Lion, however, said, “Why need I be on my guard against those whom I know?” The Lioness answered, “My Son, take care of him who has pinching weapons!” But the Lion would not follow his Mother’s advice, and the same morning, when it was still pitch dark, he went to ǂaroχaams, and laid himself in ambush. ǀGurikhoisip went also that morning to the same place. When he had arrived he let his dogs drink, and then bathe. After they had finished they wallowed. Then also the man drank; and, when he had done drinking, the Lion came out of the bush. The dogs surrounded him, as his mother had foretold, and he was speared by ǀgurikhoisip. Just as he became aware that he was speared, the dogs drew him down again. In this manner he grew faint. While he was in this state, ǀgurikhoisip said to the dogs, “Let him alone now, that he may go and be taught by his Mother.” So the dogs let him go. They left him, and went home as he lay there. The same night he walked towards home, but whilst he was on the way his strength failed him, and he lamented: [81]

At the dawn of day his Mother heard his wailing, and said—

“My Son, this is the thing which I have told thee:—

[82]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 60, 65.)

Some women, it is said, went out to seek roots and herbs and other wild food. On their way home they sat down and said, “Let us taste the food of the field.” Now they found that the food picked by one of them was sweet, while that of the others was bitter. The latter said to each other, “Look here! this woman’s herbs are sweet.” Then they said to the owner of the sweet food, “Throw it away and seek for other”—(sweet-tasted herbs being apparently unpalatable to the Hottentot). So she threw away the food, and went to gather more. When she had collected a sufficient supply, she returned to join the other women, but could not find them. She went therefore down to the river, where the Hare sat lading water, and said to him, “Hare, give me some water that I may drink.” But he replied, “This is the cup out of which my uncle (the Lion) and I alone may drink.”

She asked again: “Hare, draw water for me that [83]I may drink.” But the Hare made the same reply. Then she snatched the cup from him and drank, but he ran home to tell his uncle of the outrage which had been committed.

The Woman meanwhile replaced the cup and went away. After she had departed the Lion came down, and, seeing her in the distance, pursued her on the road. When she turned round and saw him coming, she sang in the following manner:—

When the Lion at last came up with the Woman, they hunted each other round a shrub. She wore many beads and arm-rings, and the Lion said, “Let me put them on!” So she lent them to him, but he afterwards refused to return them to her.

They then hunted each other again round the shrub, till the Lion fell down, and the Woman jumped upon him, and kept him there. The Lion (uttering a form of conjuration) said:

She then rose from him, and they hunted again after each other round the shrub, till the Woman fell down, [84]and the Lion jumped upon her. She then addressed him:

He rose, of course, and they hunted each other again, till the Lion fell a second time. When she jumped upon him, he said:

They rose again and hunted after each other. The Woman at last fell down. But this time, when she repeated the above conjuration, the Lion said:

He then ate her, taking care, however, to leave her skin whole, which he put on, together with her dress and ornaments, so that he looked quite like a woman, and then went home to her kraal.

When this counterfeit woman arrived, her little sister, crying, said, “My sister, pour some milk out for me.” She answered, “I shall not pour you out any.” Then the child addressed their Mother: “Mama, do pour out some for me.” The Mother of the kraal said, “Go to your sister, and let her give [85]it to you!” The little child said again to her sister, “Please, pour out for me!” She, however, repeated her refusal, saying, “I will not do it.” Then the Mother of the kraal said to the little one, “I refused to let her (the elder sister) seek herbs in the field, and I do not know what may have happened; go therefore to the Hare, and ask him to pour out for you.”

So the Hare gave her some milk; but her elder sister said, “Come and share it with me.” The little child then went to her sister with her bamboo (cup), and they both sucked the milk out of it. Whilst they were doing this, some milk was spilt on the little one’s hand, and the elder sister licked it up with her tongue, the roughness of which drew blood; this, too, the Woman licked up.

The little child complained to her Mother: “Mama, sister pricks holes in me, and sucks the blood.” The Mother said, “With what lion’s nature your sister went the way that I forbade her, and returned, I do not know.”

Now the cows arrived, and the elder sister cleansed the pails in order to milk them. But when she approached the cows with a thong (in order to tie their fore-legs), they all refused to be milked by her.

The Hare said, “Why do not you stand before the cow?” She replied, “Hare, call your brother, and [86]do you two stand before the cow.” Her husband said, “What has come over her that the cows refuse her? These are the same cows she always milks.” The Mother (of the kraal) said, “What has happened this evening? These are cows which she always milks without assistance. What can have affected her that she comes home as a woman with a lion’s nature?”

The elder daughter then said to her Mother, “I shall not milk the cows.” With these words she sat down. The Mother said therefore to the Hare, “Bring me the bamboos, that I may milk. I do not know what has come over the girl.”

So the Mother herself milked the cows, and when she had done so, the Hare brought the bamboos to the young wife’s house, where her husband was, but she (the wife) did not give him (her husband) anything to eat. But when at night time she fell asleep, they saw some of the Lion’s hair, which was hanging out where he had slipped on the woman’s skin, and they cried, “Verily! this is quite another being. It is for this reason that the cows refused to be milked.”

Then the people of the kraal began to break up the hut in which the Lion lay asleep. When they took off the mats, they said (conjuring them), “If thou art favourably inclined to me, O mat, give the sound ‘sawa’ ” (meaning, making no noise). [87]

To the poles (on which the hut rested) they said, “If thou art favourably inclined to me, O pole, thou must give the sound ǂgara.”3

They addressed also the bamboos and the bed-skins in a similar manner.

Thus gradually and noiselessly they removed the hut and all its contents. Then they took bunches of grass, put them over the Lion, and lighting them, said, “If thou art favourably inclined to me, O fire, thou must flare up, ‘boo boo,’ before thou comest to the heart.”

So the fire flared up when it came towards the heart, and the heart of the Woman jumped upon the ground. The Mother (of the kraal) picked it up, and put it into a calabash.

The Lion, from his place in the fire, said to the Mother (of the kraal), “How nicely I have eaten your daughter.” The Woman answered, “You have also now a comfortable place!” * * *

Now the Woman took the first milk of as many cows as calved, and put it into the calabash where her daughter’s heart was; the calabash increased in size, and in proportion to this the girl grew again inside it. [88]

One day, when the Mother (of the kraal) went out to fetch wood, she said to the Hare, “By the time that I come back you must have everything nice and clean.” But during her Mother’s absence, the girl crept out of the calabash, and put the hut in good order, as she had been used to do in former days, and said to the Hare, “When mother comes back and asks, ‘Who has done these things?’ you must say, ‘I, the Hare, did them.’ ” After she had done all, she hid herself on the stage.4

When the Mother (of the kraal) came home, she said, “Hare, who has done these things? They look just as they used when my daughter did them.” The Hare said, “I did the things.” But the Mother would not believe it, and looked at the calabash. Seeing it was empty, she searched the stage and found her daughter. Then she embraced and kissed her, and from that day the girl stayed with her mother, and did everything as she was wont in former times; but she now remained unmarried. [89]

[A Tale.]

(From Sir James E. Alexander’s “Expedition of Discovery into the Interior of Africa,” vol. ii. pp. 197, 198.)

Once upon a time a certain Hottentot was travelling in company with a Bushwoman, carrying a child on her back. They had proceeded some distance on their journey, when a troop of wild horses appeared, and the Man said to the Woman, “I am hungry; and as I know you can turn yourself into a Lion, do so now, and catch us a wild horse, that we may eat.”

The Woman answered, “You will be afraid.”

“No, no,” said the Man; “I am afraid of dying of hunger, but not of you.”

Whilst he was yet speaking, hair began to appear at the back of the Woman’s neck; her nails gradually assumed the appearance of claws, and her features altered. She sat down the child.

The Man, alarmed at the change, climbed a tree close by. The Woman glared at him fearfully, and going to one side, she threw off her skin petticoat, when [90]a perfect Lion rushed into the plain. It bounded and crept among the bushes towards the wild horses, and springing on one of them, it fell, and the Lion lapped its blood. The Lion then came back to where the child was crying, and the man called from the tree, “Enough, enough! don’t hurt me. Put off your lion’s shape, I’ll never ask to see this again.”

The Lion looked at him and growled. “I’ll remain here till I die,” said the Man, “if you don’t become a woman again.” The mane and tail then began to disappear, the Lion went towards the bush where the skin petticoat lay; it was slipped on, and the woman, in her proper shape, took up the child. The Man descended and partook of the horse’s flesh, but never again asked the Woman to catch game for him. [91]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 1, 3.)

An Elephant, it is said, was married to a Nama Hottentot woman, whose two brothers came to her secretly, because they were afraid of her husband. Then she went out as if to fetch wood, and putting them within the wood, she laid them on the stage.1 Then she said, “Since I married into this kraal, has a wether been slaughtered also for me?” And her blind mother-in-law [94]answered, “Umph! things are said by the wife of my eldest son, which she never said before.”

Thereupon the Elephant, who had been in the field, arrived, and smelling something, rubbed against the house. “Ha,” said his wife, “what I should not have done formerly, I do now. On what day did you slaughter a wether for me?” Then the mother-in-law said to him: “As she says things which she did not say (before), do it now.”

In this manner a wether was slaughtered (for her), which she roasted whole, and then, in the same night (after supper), asked her mother-in-law the following questions:—“How do you breathe when you sleep the sleep of life? (light sleep, half-conscious.) And how when you sleep the sleep of death?” (deep sleep.)

Then the mother-in-law said, “Umph, an evening full of conversation! When we sleep the sleep of death, we breathe thus: ‘sũi sũi!’ and when we sleep the sleep of life we breathe thus: ‘Χou ǃáwaba! Χou ǃáwaba!’ ”2

Thus the wife made everything right whilst they fell asleep. Then she listened to their snoring, and [95]when they slept thus, sũi sũi, she rose and said to her two brothers, “The sleep of death is over them, let us make ready.” They rose and went out, and she broke up the hut3 (to carry away all that she could), and took the necessary things, and said, “That thing which makes any noise wills my death.” So they kept altogether quiet.

When her two brothers had packed up, she went with them between the cattle, but she left at home one cow, one ewe, and one goat, and directed them, saying to the cow, “You must not low as if you were by yourself alone, if you do not wish for my death;” and she taught the ewe and the goat the same.

Then they departed with all the other cattle, and those who were left behind lowed during the night as if they were many, and as they lowed as if they were still all there, the Elephant thought, “They are all there.” But when he rose in the morning, he saw that his wife and all the cattle were gone. Taking his stick into his hands, he said to his mother, “If I fall the earth will tremble.” With these words he followed them. When they saw him approaching, they ran fast to the side, against a piece of rock (at a [96]narrow spot), and she said, “We are people, behind whom a large (travelling) party comes. Stone of my ancestors! divide thyself for us.” Then the rock divided itself, and when they had passed through it, it closed again (behind them).

Then came the Elephant, and said to the rock, “Stone of my ancestors! divide thyself also for me.” The rock divided itself again, but when he had entered, it closed upon him. Thus died the Elephant, and the earth trembled. The mother at her hut said then, “As my eldest son said, it has happened. The earth shakes.” [97]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, p. 16.)

The Sun, it is said, was one day on earth, and the men who were travelling saw him sitting by the wayside, but passed him without notice. The Jackal, however, who came after them, and saw him also sitting, went to him and said, “Such a fine little child is left behind by the men.” He then took the Sun up, and put it into his awa-skin (on his back). When it burnt him, he said, “Get down,” and shook himself; but the Sun stuck fast to his back, and burnt the Jackal’s back black from that day. [100]

(From H. C. Knudsen’s “Gross-Namaqualand,” 12mo., Barmen, 1848, pp. 27, 28.)

The Moon dies, and rises to life again. The Moon said to the Hare, “Go thou to Men, and tell them, ‘Like as I die and rise to life again, so you also shall die and rise to life again.’ ” The Hare went to the Men, and said, “Like as I die and do not rise to life again, so you shall also die, and not rise to life again.” When he returned, the Moon asked him, “What hast thou said?” “I have told them, ‘Like as I die and do not rise to life again, so you shall also die and not rise to life again.’ ” “What,” said the Moon, “hast thou said that?” And she took a stick and beat the Hare on his mouth, which was slit by the blow. The Hare fled, and is still fleeing.1 [104]

(From an original Manuscript in English, by Mr. John Priestley, in Sir G. Grey’s Library.)

The Moon, on one occasion, sent the Hare to the earth to inform Men that as she (the Moon) died away and rose again, so mankind should die and rise again. Instead, however, of delivering this message as given, the Hare, either out of forgetfulness or malice, told mankind that as the Moon rose and died away, so Man should die and rise no more. The Hare, having returned to the Moon, was questioned as to the message delivered, and the Moon, having heard the true state of the case, became so enraged with him that she took up a hatchet to split his head; falling short, however, of that, the hatchet fell upon the upper lip of the Hare, and cut it severely. Hence it is that we see the “Hare-lip.” The Hare, being duly incensed at having received such treatment, raised his claws, and scratched the Moon’s face; and the dark parts which we now see on the surface of the Moon are the scars which she received on that occasion. [105]

(From Sir James E. Alexander’s “Expedition of Discovery into the Interior of Africa,” vol. i. p. 169.)

The Moon, they say, wished to send a message to Men, and the Hare said that he would take it. “Run, then,” said the Moon, “and tell Men that as I die and am renewed, so shall they also be renewed.” But the Hare deceived Men, and said, “As I die and perish, so shall you also.”2 [106]

(From a German original Manuscript in Sir G. Grey’s Library, H. C. Knudsen’s “Notes on the Hottentots,” p. 7.)

Heitsi Eibip, or Kabip, was a great and celebrated sorcerer among the Namaqua. He could tell secret things, and prophesy what was to happen afterwards.

Once he was travelling with a great number of people, and an enemy pursued them. On arriving at some water he said, “My grandfather’s father, open thyself that I may pass through, and close thyself afterwards.” So it took place as he had said, and they went safely through. Then their enemies tried to pass through the opening also, but when they were in the midst of it, it closed again upon them, and they perished.1 [108]

Heitsi Kabip died several times, and came to life again. When the Hottentots pass one of his graves they throw a stone on it for good luck.2

Heitsi Eibip could take many different forms. Sometimes he appeared handsome, very handsome, or his hair grew long down to his shoulders; at other times it was again short. [109]

(From a German original Manuscript in Sir G. Grey’s Library, H. C. Knudsen’s “Notes on the Hottentots,” p. 7.)

At first they were two. One had made a large hole in the ground, and sat by it, and told passers-by to throw a stone at his forehead. The stone, however, rebounded and killed the person who had thrown it, so that he fell into the hole. At last Heitsi Eibip was told that in this manner many people died. So he arose and went to the man, who challenged Heitsi Eibip to throw (a stone) at him. The latter, however, declined, for he was too prudent; but he drew the man’s attention to something on one side, and while he turned round to look at it, Heitsi Eibip hit him behind the ear, so that he died and fell into his own hole. After that there was peace, and people lived happily.3 [110]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, p. 36.)

All men who came near to that hole were, it is said, pushed down into it by the ǂGã ǂgorip4 (the pusher into the hole), as he knew well where it lay. Whilst he was thus employed, there came the Heitsi Eibip, called also Heigeip, and saw how the ǂGã ǂgorip treated the people.

Then these two began to hunt each other round the hole, saying—

With these words they hunted each other round for some time; but at last the Heigeip was pushed [111]down. Then he said to the hole, “Support me a little,” and it did. Thus, being supported, he came out; and they hunted each other again with the same words:—

A second time the Heigeip was pushed down, and he spoke the same words: “Support me a little,” and thus got out again.

Once more these two hunted after each other, till at last the ǂGã ǂgorip was pushed down, and he came not up again. Since that day men breathed freely and had rest from their enemy, because he was vanquished. [112]

(The original, in the Hottentot language, is in Sir G. Grey’s Library, G. Krönlein’s Manuscript, pp. 34, 35.)

It is said that when Heitsi Eibip was travelling about with his family, they came to a valley in which the raisin-tree was ripe, and he was there attacked by a severe illness. Then his young (second) wife said, “This brave one is taken ill on account of these raisins; death is here at the place.” The old man (Heitsi Eibip), however, told his son ǃUrisip5 (the whitish one), “I shall not live, I feel it; thou must, therefore, cover me when I am dead with soft stones.” And he spoke further, “This is the thing which I order you to do:—‘Of the raisin-trees of this valley ye shall not eat. For if ye eat of them I shall infect you, and ye will surely die in a similar way.’ ”

His young wife said, “He is taken ill on account of the raisins of this valley. Let us bury him quickly, and let us go.” [113]

So he died there, and was covered flatly with soft stones according as he had commanded. Then they went away from him.

When they had moved to another place, and were unpacking there, they heard always from the side whence they came a noise as of people eating raisins and singing. In this manner the eating and singing ran:—

The young wife perceived that the noise came from the side where the old man’s grave was, and said, “ǃUrisip! Go and look!” Then the son went to the old man’s grave, where he saw traces which he recognised to be his father’s footmarks, and returned home. Then the young wife said, “It is he alone; therefore act thus:—

He did accordingly, and they came between the grave and Heitsi Eibip who, when he saw this, jumped down from the raisin-trees, and ran quickly, but was caught at the grave. Then he said:

“Let me go! For I am a man who has been dead that I may not infect you!” But the young wife said, “Keep hold of the rogue!” So they brought him home, and from that day he was fresh and hale. [115]