How It Came About That Many Diseases Came Among the Tribe
We do not really mean, we do not really mean, (that what we are going to say is true).
NOW, there lived Kwaku Ananse, and he went to Nyankonpon, the Sky-god, and said, “Grandsire, take your sheep called Kra Kwame (i. e. the one which you keep to sacrifice to your soul on a Saturday) and let me kill and eat it, that I may go and bring you a beautiful maiden (in exchange).” The Sky-god gave him the sheep, and Ananse set out and returned to his village, and killed the sheep and ate it. The Spider then went to a certain village—at that village there was not a single male; all were women. Ananse married them all and he and they lived there. One day, a hunter came there. When the hunter left, he went and told the Sky-god, saying, “As for Ananse, that sheep of yours which he received, he has killed it and given to some women to eat and (then) married them.” The Sky-god said, “Is that true?” The hunter said, “Grandsire, it is truth.” The Sky-god sent messengers, telling them to go to that village and bring all the women who were there. The messengers went off, met the women, and took them all with the exception of one woman who was ill, and took them to the Sky-god.
Ananse said, “You who remain, what
can I do with you, you can’t do anything for me?” The sick woman said, “Go and bring me a gourd cup.” Ananse went and brought a gourd cup. She said, “Bathe me and take (the water you have used) and pour it into this gourd.” Ananse bathed her body and poured (the water he had used) into the gourd. This woman became very beautiful, there was no woman like her among the tribe. Ananse married that which was already his. Now the hunter came again, and he saw this girl. He went off and reported to the Sky-god, saying, “Ananse has made a fool of you, he brought you the ugly women and has kept the beautiful one.” The Sky-god sent messengers and made them go off there to where the Spider was, to go and bring that woman to him. They delivered this message to Ananse. He said, “Would he not like me as well?” The messengers said, “The Sky-god says we must take the woman to him.” Ananse said, “That is she, sitting there, take her away.” Now, Ananse went and got the gourd into which all the diseases he had taken from the woman had been poured, and he stretched a skin over the mouth of it, and he stretched a skin over another gourd and gave it to his child Ntikuma, and Ananse beat on (the drum he had made) and sang: “Y’odende dende den,
Y’odende den.
Aso Ya e!
Y’odende dende den,
Y’odende den.
Your eyes are red in vain!
Y’odende dende den,
Y’odende den.
You are bandy-armed!
Y’odende dende den,
Y’odende den.
Is that Aso Ya?
Y’odende dende den,
Y’odende den.
You are knock-kneed!
Y’odende dende den,
Y’odende den.
Your nose is a lump on your face!
Y’odende dende den,
Y’odende den.
Your feet are (large as) paddles like those of a slave!
Y’odende dende den,
Y’odende den.
Your head is like a cow!
Y’odende dende den,
Y’odende den.”
Ntikuma (drummed and sang):
“Beautiful maiden,
Beautiful maiden!”
And Afudotwedotwe (Belly-like-to-burst) and Nyiwankonfwea (Spindle-shanks) danced. Anene, the crow, ran with speed and told the Sky-god, saying, “Ananse has some dance which is fitting for you but not for Spider.” Immediately the Sky-god sent messengers there to Ananse to go and bring his dance. Ananse said, “This dance of mine, we only act it in the harem, and if the Sky-god agrees then I shall bring it along.” They went and told the Sky-god. He said, “That is nothing, let him bring (it).” Ananse went with (the drums) to the harem, and the Sky-god came and danced, and all his wives danced. Now, there remained that one who had been sick. When she saw that Ananse had stretched a skin over the gourd in which were all her diseases, because of that, she said she would not dance. And now the Sky-god forced her, and she came; and when she was about to dance, Ananse lifted up the gourd and struck the woman with it, and the diseases scattered (with a sound like), tese! That is how syphilis, stomach-ache, headache, leprosy, guineaworm, small-pox, yaws, fits, diabetes, madness came among the tribe. Once there was no sickness among mankind, but the Sky-god was the cause of Ananse bringing diseases among the tribe.
This, my story, which I have related, if it be sweet, (or) if it be not sweet, take some elsewhere, and let some come back to me.
How It Came About That Hunters Are Poor
We do not really mean, we do not really mean, (that what we are going to say is true).
A HUNTER (once) went and got gun-medicine (powder) and two bars of A for bullets, on credit, and he and his wife and small child went off to the bush in order to kill meat. And he built a hunter’s hut and in it he and his wife and child lived. When things became visible, he went to the bush. When he saw a beast and fired his gun at it, he missed. Every day it was thus, for about twice eight days. And his wife said, “Since I have not got any meat to eat, I shall go off home.” Next day when the hunter went to the bush, his wife and child also went off to their village. Now there remained only one single shot. Now I forgot to mention that that hunter’s name was Gyekye, and also that that of his wife was Boniaye-kae-dabi (which means, Some-day-the-ungrateful-one-will-remember). The time when the hunter was roaming about, he had reached (a spot) beneath an odum-tree, and there it was a beautiful spot. There the hunter considered in his head, saying (to himself), “If I go home they will claim the gold dust for the powder, and I have not got any, so I shall take this gun and shoot myself in the throat that I may die.” At once Something called him, saying, “Creator’s hunter.” And the hunter said, “Father.” And the Something said, “Why are your eyes red like this? now had she, called ‘Go-and-spoil-the-home ’, not been in your house, I would have given you something.” Then the hunter said, “There is nothing at home.” Something said, “Since there is nothing at home, go to the hollow in the trunk of the odum-tree, and two adawuru gongs lie there, so bring them.” And the hunter went and brought them. And Something said, “Go and cut two pegs of odwen, and close your eyes, and run and take one and set it yonder, and take the other and turn round and set it yonder.” When he came, he said, “I have finished.” Something said, “Take the big ’dawuru (gong) and sound it.” And he sounded it, and the bush became a village stretching between the two pegs. And the odum-tree stood in the middle of it. And that Something revealed itself that it was an Eagle. And she told the hunter that if any important matter came up for settlement, it should be heard under the odum-tree. The hunter said, “Ho, I have heard.’” When the Eagle had said this to him, he (the hunter) got wives, councillors, and attendants. By that time, his wife (called) “Some-day-the-ungrateful-one-will-remember” got the scent of it that he was become a chief, so she bought palm-wine, and set out with it to the chief’s village, and her child was on her back. When she arrived she announced the reason for her coming, saying, “Your child says he brings wine that he may look upon your face.” And he accepted the wine, and made every one present drink. And he took the woman and handed her over to the Gyasehene that he might take her to his house. When evening fell cool, the woman bathed and went to where the chief was in his room. The woman said to the chief, “You and I have experienced rain and sun, to-day you have got somewhere to settle in, and would it not have been right if you had sent for me?” Now while she was talking like this—just like men and their foolishness—he could find nothing to say. Then and there he caught hold of the woman and he and she slept together. Early next morning he removed her from her quarters at the Gyase Chief’s and took her to the Chief’s harem. There she lived until a big dispute came. The chief and all his councillors went and sat beneath the odum-tree. The woman’s child stood in front of his father, and he saw the Eagle’s child on top of the odum-tree, and he said, “Father, I want it.” And his father smacked his bottom, and pushed the back of his head, and made him go home. And one of the other women’s children came, and also stood before his face. He also saw the Eagle’s child, and he said, “Father, I want it.” And he smacked its bottom in the same way and pushed the back of his head, causing it to fall down, and as he went off, he wept. And his mother said, “What are you crying for?” And he said, “Father beat me.” And his mother said, “O! why should he not beat you, had it been the child of Some-day-the-ungrateful-one-will-remember, he would not have beaten it.” And Some-day-the-ungrateful-one-will-remember said, “As for this, I have not done anything to you, that you should act like this to me.” No sooner had she said so, than both of them rushed together and fought. And the attendants said, “Because of this particular thing which is on top of this tree, our father’s wives are fighting; we shall fell it.” Immediately they got their axes, pimpen! pimpen! (was the sound they made.) At that time the Eagle had gone roaming and had taken her children and left them in the charge of the Lizard, and of Old-Hawk. At the time when the people felled the tree and it was falling, the Lizard shouted the magic word, “Pimpeao!” And the tree came together. And they returned to it again. And the Lizard said to the Old-Hawk, “Go and search for Eagle that she may come and look after her children, for as for me, death has come upon me.” At once the people went and got their guns and shot her and killed her. And Old-Hawk flew off in order to call the Eagle. All the way as she was going she cried, saying:
“Grandmother e! your children o!
Grandmother e! your children o!”
When she called like this and the Eagle did not hear, she raised her voice and cried: “Sankur’ e, the Bird e, sankur’ e, the Bird, the Eagle.
Sankur’ e, the Bird e, sankur’ e, if you have gone to eat, return.”
And the Eagle heard. And she came, and said, “What’s this all about?” And Old-Hawk said, “They have knocked down the tree in order to take your children, and as for Lizard, they have fired a gun at her and killed her.” At once the Eagle rose up, wa (was the sound her wings made), and she alighted on a tree at the entrance of the town, and she raised her eyes, and it was true that they were felling the tree. She did not say anything. And now when the tree crashed and went down, the Eagle rushed there, ho (was the sound of her wings), and snatched up her children. She took them and set them down on the tree where she had alighted. And then she came down to the ground and said to herself (lit. in her head), “Ah, men are like this, are they?” And it made her sorrowful. And she wept, and said:
“Except the gun,
Except the snake.”
And she detached her bottom, and so got two female drums, and she beat them and sent this message:
“Let all the feathered creatures come, (until the sky is) black, black, black.”
And all the feathered creatures came. And she told them all what had happened, and said to them that they must accompany her to go and thank Gyekye, and that every one who knew how to cry must cry. The bird called Apitie was the first to begin to cry:
“I shall die a sudden death!
I shall die a sudden death!”
The Apatupere bird cried:
“I don’t like quarrelling!
I don’t like quarrelling!
I don’t like Kosante’s child’s cloth.”
Akokofwedee, the red-legged partridge, cried:
“Owuraye’s hoe, hoe, O!
Owuraye’s hoe, hoe, O!
Owuraye’s hoe, hoe, hoe, O!”
The little Atewa bird cried:
“Doye!
Doye!
Afua Anwea and her (husband) Ano Kofi,
If a child walks as soon as it’s born, that’s not a good thing,
Kwaku Amoaten (a name).
Doye!
Doye!
Odiawuo and his Ano Mmirikisie who loosens the Elephant tusk,
He has left it,
He has left it.
Father hunter, rise up and go and look for the putty-nosed monkey that you may make soup and drink, (when the hunter’s wife speaks thus,)
No creature (who hears her say so) is going to come under the tree (where they are).” The Opodee bird cried:
“Kyakyakya! nkawurubi!
(Look at) that small child’s long black gun,
He is pointing it at me, in order that he may chew me along with his roasted plantains.”
Opatuo, the Owl, cried:
“E! Mm!
E! Mm!”
Onwam, the Hornbill, cried:
“(Hunter) Akuaferi-Saka the little red one!”
The Hornbill’s wife says:
“He is not there.”
The Hornbill says:
“Aso (his wife), eat and let us be off.”
And Saka fires his gun and hits him, pa! And his (the Hornbill’s) wife flies off and says:
“He is there!
He is there!”
And the little Aserewa bird cried:
“Obeko Asamoa,
When the simple fool taps his palm-wine tree, early in the morning people are going backwards and forwards to it!”
Aburuburo, the Dove, cried:
“When mother was dying, she left me in charge of a forked-branch;
When the forked-branch died, it left me in charge of the rib of a palm leaf; When the rib of the palm leaf died, it left me in charge of a bended branch; When the bended branch got me, it used me roughly, roughly, roughly!” The Akyenkyena bird cried:
It’s I,
It’s I,
It’s I.”
And now the Eagle herself came, and cried:
“Nkensen nkensen, feathered creatures ya ya!
I thank Gyekye!
Nkensen nkensen, feathered creatures ya ya!”
(And when she cried thus) all the people in the town ran from it; and Gyekye did not see where men, sheep, women, wives, and fowls or anything went. There remained only he himself and his wife and child, beside the stump of the odum-tree. And the Eagle said to him, “From this day no hunter will ever be rich.”
This, my story, which I have related, if it be sweet, (or) if it be not sweet, some you may take as true, and the rest you may praise me (for telling of it).