How It Came About That the Elephant’s Bottom Became Small
We do not really mean, we do not really mean, (that what we are going to say is true).
THERE once came a great hunger, and Kwaku Ananse went to Esono, the Elephant, and said, “Father Elephant, let us go (and search for) wild yams.” The Elephant said, “Come along, let us go.” He and Kwaku, the Spider, set off. Now, up to then, the Elephant had a huge behind; and as he and Kwaku Ananse were about to pass there, the Elephant’s bottom would become entangled in the creepers, so that they could never get along. Then Kwaku Ananse looked long (at him), and he addressed the Elephant, saying, “Let me slice off some of your behind, that we may be able to get along quickly.” The Elephant said, “Slice away and let us see (if it does any good).” So the Spider sliced flesh, three full baskets of meat, off his behind. Ananse put it on his head. He said to the Elephant, “I shall take this and set it down at my home and return.” Ananse arrived home; he said, “Aso (his wife), I have deceived an Elephant who is the elder of fools, and cut all the meat off his bottom.” Aso replied, “Congratulations, Apeafo.” There and then, Ananse and his children and his wife shut the door, and Ananse gave Ntikuma (his son) one dono drum, Tikonokono one, and Afudotwedotwe one also. Soon after, some one beat upon Ananse’s door, pan! pan! pan! Thereupon Ananse and his children lifted up (their voices) and sang:
“Who beats upon my door?
Who beats upon my door?
Denkye, denkye, denkye, den!”
Then the Elephant’s child (who has been sent by his father) took up the refrain: “Is it not I, the Elephant’s child?
Is it not I, the Elephant’s child?
Denkye, denkye, denkye, den!”
And Ananse lifted up (his voice):
“What do you want?
What do you want?
Denkye, denkye, denkye, den!”
And the Elephant’s child raised (his voice):
“I am coming for the meat off father’s behind!
I am coming for the meat off father’s behind!
Denkye, denkye, denkye, den!”
And Ananse raised (his voice):
“The meat off your father’s behind is sweeter than the flesh of a sheep!
Denkye, denkye, denkye, den!
I have cut some, to chew!
I have cut some, to give it away!
Denkye, denkye, denkye, den!
Gon! gon! gon! gon! gon!”
And the Elephant’s child danced, and danced, and danced, and went away. When he went (home), his father asked him, “Where is the meat?” He replied, “Ananse was not there, when I went.” All the ten children of the Elephant went to the Spider’s house. When they had been and returned, their father asked them (about it); they said, “When I went, he was not there.” But what really happened was that as soon as Ananse started up the dance music, the children of the Elephant danced, and danced, and danced away, and forgot all about the errand on which their father had sent them. Now the great one said, “I myself shall go and take what belongs to me.” He arrived in front of Ananse’s door, and took his head and beat against it, pan! pan! pan! and the Spider took up (the refrain):
“Who beats upon my door?
Who beats upon my door?
Denkye, denkye, denkye, den!”
Then the Elephant lifted up (his voice):
“Is it not I, Father Elephant?
Is it not I, Father Elephant?”
And Ananse raised (his voice):
“What do you want?
What do you want?
Denkye, denkye, denkye, den!”
And the Elephant lifted up (his voice):
“I am coming for the meat off my bottom!
I am coming for the meat off my bottom!
Denkye, denkye, denkye, den!”
And Ananse raised (his voice):
“The meat off your bottom is sweeter than the flesh of the sheep!
I cut some to chew!
I cut some to give away!
Kon! kon! kon! kon! kon!”
Father Elephant danced, and danced, and danced. Then he said, “Spider, come here.” The Spider said, “Must I come for you to trample upon me and kill me?” The Elephant said, “If you come, I won’t do anything to you, and if such a thing is possible, we will consider that I have purchased this dance with my bottom.” The Spider came out and played, and played, and played, and played, causing the Elephant to dance, and dance, and dance; then the Elephant went away. That is why the Elephant’s bottom is so very small; it is because of the dance which he purchased; long ago it was not like that.
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 Co-Wives Do Not Use the Same Hearth-Stones
We do not really mean, we do not really mean, (that what we are going to say is true).
THEY say that there once lived two co-wives; one of them had a child, while the other had not any. The two of them lived in one house; they shared a common cooking-hearth. One day, the one who had a child, set off, saying she was going to beat the (family) washing, and as she was going, she took her child and gave it to her co-wife, saying, “I will not be long about this (washing), so take this infant; when you see the morning sun shining through the mists, place her in it, but when the sun becomes strong, lift her up and put her in the shade.” The co-wife said, “I have heard.” She set out, and the morning sun shone through the mists, and she took the child and laid her in it. Then the woman went and sat by the fire; she was cooking her food. Now, the sun beat down, and the child lay in it. And the sun beat down very strongly, and the child lifted up (her voice and sang):
“Father’s wife (called) Tears-in-her-eyes,
Sienima.
Did not mother say?
Sienima.
The morning sun quickly dispels the mists,
Sienima.
Adwoa, the fourth child,
Sienima.
I am about to melt.
Sienima.
Korororodo,
Sienima.
Korororodo,
Sienima.”
And the child’s left hand melted; and she took up (the refrain):
“Father’s wife (called) Tears-in-her-eyes,
Sienima.
Did not mother say?
Sienima.
The morning sun quickly dispels the mists,
Sienima.
Adwoa, the fourth child,
Sienima.
I am about to melt.
Sienima.
Korororodo,
Sienima.
Korororodo,
Sienima.”
And the child’s right hand melted, and she lifted up (her voice):
“Father’s wife (called) Tears-in-her-eyes,
Sienima.
Did not mother say?
Sienima.
The morning sun quickly dispels the mists,
Sienima.
Adwoa, the fourth child,
Sienima.
I am about to melt.
Sienima.
Korororodo,
Sienima.
Korororodo,
Sienima.”
But the woman kept her mouth shut. Now, all at once she was going to cast her eyes and look at the child, but the child had turned into a fish. The woman lifted her up, and put her into the soup-stew; and she finished her cooking. She took some of the food and set it down on the ceiling of the room belonging to the child’s mother. Not long after, the mother of the child came back from beating the washing. She said, “Where is my child?” The woman said, “I took her and gave her to (her) father, so go and take down your food from the ceiling there, and eat.” The woman went and removed the food; she uncovered the food and said, “Wherever did you get this fresh fish? ’? She replied, “When you went to beat the washing, I bought it.’” The woman was eating; while she was still eating she said, “Where is my child?” Her co-wife replied, “I have told you that she is with (her) father there.” The woman finished eating, and went off to her husband there, and said, “Give me my child, for I have hardly seen her to-day.” The father said, “I have not seen her.” The woman said, “Oh, why are you all playing (game of) children’s sheep’s heads with me?” The woman came back to her co-wife; she said to her, “I don’t want such-like; why, seeing I am not a child, do you make sport of me?” Her co-wife said, “Where did you suppose I should get money from to buy the fish you have just come and eaten? As for your child, when the morning sun shone through the mists, I placed her in it; when the sun drove away the mists, she asked me to come and remove her, but I kept my mouth shut; when I looked at her (next) she had turned into a fish, so I took her and cooked her for food; that is the news.” The child’s mother said, I speak the great forbidden word, that from to-day and henceforth, light your own hearth-fire and let me, too, light mine.” That is why when two co-wives live in one house, this one has her own cooking-stones, and that one has her own cooking-stones.
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.