Thunder and Anansi: The Epic Tale of the Sky God’s Challenge
There had been a long and severe famine in the land where Anansi lived. He had been quite unable to obtain food for his poor wife and family. One day, gazing desperately out to sea, he saw, rising from the midst of the water, a tiny island with a tall palm-tree upon it. He determined to reach this tree—if any means proved possible—and climb it, in the hope of finding a few nuts to reward him. How to get there was the difficulty.
This, however, solved itself when he reached the beach, for there lay the means to his hand, in the shape of an old, broken boat. It certainly did not look very strong, but Anansi decided to try it.
His first six attempts were unsuccessful—a great wave dashed him back on the beach each time he tried to put off. He was persevering, however, and at the seventh trial was successful in getting away. He steered the battered old boat as best he could, and at length reached the palm-tree of his desire. Having
tied the boat to the trunk of the tree—which grew almost straight out of the water—he climbed toward the nuts. Plucking all he could reach, he dropped them, one by one, down to the boat. To his dismay, every one missed the boat and fell, instead, into the water until only the last one remained. This he aimed even more carefully than the others, but it also fell into the water and disappeared from his hungry eyes. He had not tasted even one and now all were gone.
He could not bear the thought of going home empty-handed, so, in his despair, he threw himself into the water, too. To his complete astonishment, instead of being drowned, he found himself standing on the sea-bottom in front of a pretty little cottage. From the latter came an old man, who asked Anansi what he wanted so badly that he had come to Thunder’s cottage to seek it. Anansi told his tale of woe, and Thunder showed himself most sympathetic.
He went into the cottage and fetched a fine cooking pot, which he presented to Anansi—telling him that he need never be hungry again. The pot would always supply enough food for himself and
his family. Anansi was most grateful and left Thunder with many thanks.
Being anxious to test the pot at once, Anansi only waited till he was again seated in the old boat to say, “Pot, pot, what you used to do for your master do now for me.” Immediately good food of all sorts appeared. Anansi ate a hearty meal, which he very much enjoyed.
On reaching land again, his first thought was to run home and give all his family a good meal from his wonderful pot. A selfish, greedy fear prevented him. “What if I should use up all the magic of the pot on them and have nothing more left for myself! Better keep the pot a secret—then I can enjoy a meal when I want one.” So, his mind full of this thought, he hid the pot.
He reached home, pretending to be utterly worn out with fatigue and hunger. There was not a grain of food to be had anywhere. His wife and poor children were weak with want of it, but selfish Anansi took no notice of that. He congratulated himself at the thought of his magic pot, now safely hidden in his room. There he retired from time to time when he felt hungry and enjoyed a good meal. His
family got thinner and thinner, but he grew plumper and plumper. They began to suspect some secret and determined to find it out. His eldest son, Kweku Tsin, had the power of changing himself into any shape he chose; so he took the form of a tiny fly and accompanied his father everywhere. At last, Anansi, feeling hungry, entered his room and closed the door. Next, he took the pot and had a fine meal. Having replaced the pot in its hiding place, he went out, on the pretence of looking for food.
As soon as he was safely out of sight, Kweku Tsin fetched out the pot and called all his hungry family to come at once. They had as good a meal as their father had had. When they had finished, Mrs. Anansi—to punish her husband—said she would take the pot down to the village and give everybody a meal. This she did—but alas! in working to prepare so much food at one time, the pot grew too hot and melted away. What was to be done now? Anansi would be so angry! His wife forbade everyone to mention the pot.
Anansi returned, ready for his supper, and, as usual, went into his room, carefully shutting the door. He went to the hiding-place—it was empty!
He looked around in consternation. No pot was to be seen anywhere. Someone must have discovered it. His family must be the culprits; he would find a means to punish them.
Saying nothing to anyone about the matter, he waited till morning. As soon as it was light, he started off towards the shore, where the old boat lay. Getting into the boat, it started off of its own accord and glided swiftly over the water—straight for the palm-tree. Arrived there, Anansi attached the boat as before and climbed the tree. This time, unlike the last, the nuts almost fell into his hands. When he aimed them at the boat, they fell easily into it—not one, as before, dropping into the water. He deliberately took them and threw them overboard, immediately jumping after them. As before, he found himself in front of Thunder’s cottage, with Thunder waiting to hear his tale. This he told, the old man showing the same sympathy as he had previously done.
This time, however, he presented Anansi with a fine stick and bade him good-bye. Anansi could scarcely wait till he got into the boat—so anxious was he to try the magic properties of his new gift.
“Stick, stick,” he said, “what you used to do for your master do for me also.” The stick began to beat him so severely that, in a few minutes, he was obliged to jump into the water and swim ashore, leaving boat and stick to drift away where they pleased. Then he returned sorrowfully homeward, bemoaning his many bruises and wishing he had acted more wisely from the beginning.
Anansi talesTolifolkloreGhanaian TalesfolktalesAnanse
The Chain of Blame: Finding Justice for Teacher Goso
Have you ever wondered how far a chain of cause and effect might stretch? How one seemingly small action might connect to another, and another, creating an intricate web of consequences that lead to an unexpected outcome? Today’s story explores this fascinating chain of relationships – and what happens when determined students seek justice.
Long ago, in a village where knowledge was treasured above all else, there lived a teacher named Goso. Unlike teachers today, Goso didn’t teach in a schoolhouse with desks and chalkboards. Instead, he gathered his students beneath the shade of a magnificent calabash tree, where they learned to read surrounded by nature’s classroom.
One peaceful evening, as the sun painted the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Goso sat beneath his calabash tree. Deep in thought, he studied the next day’s lessons, unaware that this ordinary moment would be his last.
Up in the branches above, silent and stealthy, crept Paa the gazelle. The nimble creature had climbed the tree with one purpose – to steal some of the sweet calabash fruit. As Paa stretched toward a particularly tempting fruit, he accidentally knocked loose a heavy calabash. Down it tumbled through the leaves, striking poor Teacher Goso directly on the head.
The blow was fatal. By morning, when his devoted students arrived for their lessons, they found their beloved teacher lying motionless beneath the tree.
Grief washed over the students like a sudden storm. After carefully laying their teacher to rest with a proper burial, they gathered in a solemn circle. These weren’t ordinary students – they were scholars who valued justice as much as knowledge. Together, they made a pact: they would find whoever was responsible for Goso’s death and ensure justice was served.
After much discussion, the students concluded that the south wind must have been responsible, shaking the tree and causing the calabash to fall. So they captured the south wind and began to punish it.
But the south wind protested: “Wait! I am Koosee, the south wind. Why are you beating me? What have I done?”
“You know what you did,” replied the students. “You threw down the calabash that struck our teacher Goso. You shouldn’t have done it.”
The south wind had a clever response: “If I were truly so powerful, would I be stopped by a simple mud wall?”
This made perfect sense to the students. They immediately went to find the mud wall and began to punish it instead.
But the mud wall cried out: “Hold on! I am Keeyambaaza, the mud wall. Why are you beating me? What have I done?”
“You know what you did,” they answered. “You stopped Koosee, the south wind; and Koosee, the south wind, threw down the calabash that struck our teacher Goso. You shouldn’t have done it.”
The mud wall defended itself: “If I were truly so powerful, would I be bored through by a mere rat?”
So the determined students found the rat and began to punish it.
But the rat squeaked in protest: “Wait! I am Paanya, the rat. Why are you beating me? What have I done?”
“You know what you did,” they explained with growing patience. “You bored through Keeyambaaza, the mud wall; which stopped Koosee, the south wind; and Koosee, the south wind, threw down the calabash that struck our teacher Goso. You shouldn’t have done it.”
The rat had its own defense: “If I were truly so powerful, would I be eaten by a cat?”
And so the pattern continued. The students hunted down the cat and began to punish it.
But the cat meowed in protest: “Listen! I am Paaka, the cat. Why are you beating me? What have I done?”
“You know what you did,” they recited, their explanation growing longer. “You eat Paanya, the rat; who bores through Keeyambaaza, the mud wall; which stopped Koosee, the south wind; and Koosee, the south wind, threw down the calabash that struck our teacher Goso. You shouldn’t have done it.”
The cat purred its defense: “If I were truly so powerful, would I be tied by a rope?”
Next came the rope, which claimed it couldn’t be so powerful if it could be cut by a knife.
The knife argued it couldn’t be so powerful if it could be burned by fire.
The fire insisted it couldn’t be so powerful if it could be extinguished by water.
The water maintained it couldn’t be so powerful if it could be drunk by an ox.
The ox bellowed that it couldn’t be so powerful if it could be tormented by a tiny fly.
And the fly – that small, buzzing creature – buzzed that it couldn’t be so powerful if it could be eaten by a gazelle.
At last, the students’ search led them to Paa, the gazelle. When they found him, they began to punish him too.
The gazelle protested: “Stop! I am Paa, the gazelle. Why are you beating me? What have I done?”
Now their explanation had grown into a magnificent chain of connections: “Yes, we know you are Paa; you eat Eenzee, the fly; that torments Ng’ombay, the ox; who drinks Maajee, the water; that puts out Moto, the fire; that burns Keesoo, the knife; that cuts Kaamba, the rope; that ties Paaka, the cat; who eats Paanya, the rat; who bores through Keeyambaaza, the mud wall; which stopped Koosee, the south wind; and Koosee, the south wind, threw down the calabash that struck our teacher Goso. You shouldn’t have done it.”
Unlike all the others, the gazelle had no clever defense to offer. Surprised at being discovered and afraid of the consequences of his actions – actions taken while stealing fruit – Paa the gazelle stood speechless.
The students nodded to one another. “Ah! He has no words to defend himself. This is the one who threw down the calabash that struck our teacher Goso. We will have justice.”
And so they punished Paa the gazelle, avenging the death of their beloved teacher.
The chain of blame had led them in a perfect circle, back to the true cause of their teacher’s death. But was it the gazelle alone who was responsible? Or was it every link in this intricate chain that connected the smallest fly to the mightiest wind? Perhaps in seeking justice, we must consider not just the final action, but the complex web of connections that make our world function as it does.
What do you think? In your own life, how often do you consider the chain of events that leads to outcomes, both good and bad? And when something goes wrong, do you look only at the final action, or do you trace back the connections that might have contributed to that moment?
Maybe, like Goso’s students, we all have something to learn about how everything in our world is connected – for better or for worse.
fang talesAfrican TalesfolklorefolktalesTanzanian folktales
The Origins of Dawn: Why the Cock Crows for the Sun Each Morning
In the beginning, the sun was the property of the cock. The god once asked the cock to give him the sun, but the cock refused. The god then called all the beasts he had created and offered them a big reward if they took the sun from the cock and gave it to him.
The squirrel, hearing this, went and made friendship with the cock in order that he might by some unfair means take the sun from the cock; but he failed in his attempt. The lizard then went and told the cock to build a compound round the sun that it might be safe, as many were coveting it.
The cock did this, and the lizard then had the opportunity of getting inside by climbing over the wall, and so took away the sun to the god. The god then told him that he was sorry he had no more hair to supply, but the lizard must have his abode with men in their dwelling houses. This accounts for the lizard living in dwelling houses.
And whenever the cock crows, he always asks the god to give back his sun to him.
folklorefolktalesEgbo Talesyuroba tales
The Betrayal of Trust: How the Snake and Rat Became Eternal Enemies
Once upon a time, the snake and the rat were very good friends. The snake was richer than the rat. One day, the rat told the snake that he should bring his property for them to enjoy, and when they had made use of it all, they would try and accumulate more wealth.
The snake agreed, and they made use of all the goods. After that, the rat suggested that they should go out into another country. Before starting, the rat had a very good breakfast but told the snake that he need not take any breakfast as the town to which they were going was not far, and they would have more than sufficient to eat and drink on the way.
They then set off, but the road being so long, the snake felt hungry and was very angry with the rat, whom he never saw getting tired. The rat tried to give him some excuse which the snake refused to accept, and the rat was swallowed up by the snake.
From that day, the snake and the rat became the very bitterest enemies, and the former never allowed the latter to escape with impunity whenever he had the chance of swallowing him.
folkloreAfrican TalesfolktalesGhanaian TalesAfrican Stories
HOW MUSHROOMS FIRST GREW
Long, long ago there dwelt in a town two brothers whose bad habits brought them much trouble. Day by day they got more deeply in debt. Their creditors gave them no peace, so at last they ran away into the woods. They became highway robbers.
But they were not happy. Their minds were troubled by their evil deeds. At last they decided to go home, make a big farm, and pay off their debts gradually.
They accordingly set to work and soon had quite a fine farm prepared for corn. As the soil was good, they hoped the harvest would bring them in much money.
Unfortunately, that very day a bushfowl came along. Being hungry, it scratched up all the newly planted seeds and ate them.
The two poor brothers, on arriving at the field next day, were dismayed to find all their work quite wasted. They put down a trap for the thief. That evening the bushfowl was caught in it. The two brothers, when they came and found the bird, told it that now all their debts would be transferred to it because it had robbed them of the means of paying the debts themselves.
The poor bird in great trouble at having such a burden thrust upon it made a nest under a silk-cotton tree. There it began to lay eggs, meaning to hatch them and sell the young birds for money to pay off the debt.
A terrible hurricane came, however, and a branch of the tree came down. All the eggs were smashed. As a result, the bushfowl transferred the debts to the tree, as it had broken the eggs.
The silk-cotton tree was in dismay at having such a big sum of money to pay off. It immediately set to work to make as much silk cotton as it possibly could, that it might sell it.
An elephant, not knowing all that had happened, came along. Seeing the silk cotton, he came to the tree and plucked down all its bearings. By this means the debts were transferred to the poor elephant.
The elephant was very sad when he found what he had done. He wandered away into the desert, thinking of a way to make money. He could think of none.
As he stood quietly under a tree, a poor hunter crept up. This man thought he was very lucky to find such a fine elephant standing so still. He at once shot him.
Just before the animal died, he told the hunter that now the debts would have to be paid by him. The hunter was much grieved when he heard this, as he had no money at all.
He walked home wondering what he could do to make enough money to pay the debts. In the darkness he did not see the stump of a tree which the overseers had cut down in the road. He fell and broke his leg. By this means the debts were transferred to the tree-stump.
Not knowing this, a party of white ants came along next morning and began to eat into the tree. When they had broken it nearly to the ground, the tree told them that now the debts were theirs, as they had killed it.
The ants, being very wise, held a council together to find out how best they could make money. They decided each to contribute as much as possible. With the proceeds one of their young men would go to the nearest market and buy pure linen thread. This they would weave and sell and the profits would go to help pay the debts.
This was done. From time to time all the linen in stock was brought and spread out in the sunshine to keep it in good condition. When men see this linen lying out on the ant-hills, they call it ‘mushroom,’ and gather it for food.
The Magical Mischief-Maker: How Quarcoo Bah-boni Scattered the Animal Kingdom
Once upon a time in a certain village lived a man and his wife who were childless. One day, however, when the husband was away hunting, the woman had a baby son. She was greatly troubled at her husband’s absence, because she was unable to let him know of the child’s arrival. In that country it is the custom for the father to give the baby its name when it is a week old. As the time approached for the naming, the woman wondered to herself what name she could give the child if her husband did not return in time. To her amazement, the child himself answered, “My name is Quarcoo Bah-boni.” As he was only a week old she was astonished to hear him talk. The next day she got a greater surprise. She had been grumbling because her husband was not there to go to the farm for her and fetch food. The baby announced, “I will go to the farm” which he did.
When he was a few weeks old, she was one day very busy. She laid him down on the bed while she went on with her task. In a few minutes several boys came up to her in great anger. “Your son has been beating us and ill-treating us in the street,” said they. “My son!” she cried. “Why, my son is only a tiny baby. He is lying asleep on my bed.” To convince them she went indoors to show them the baby. Imagine her surprise when he was nowhere to be seen! She had to apologize to the boys and beg them to forgive the child. Shortly after, he came in and put himself to bed.
He continued these mischievous tricks till his mother could no longer endure them. So she turned him out of the house and forbade him to return. He departed in great glee.
After walking a few miles, he came to a building where a goat, wolf, tiger, lion, and elephant lived very happily together. These animals were all sitting round their fire when he approached. After many polite speeches, he begged their permission to stay and be their servant, as he was motherless. The animals, after a little discussion, agreed to this, thinking that he would be able to help them in many ways. He was given a seat and some food, which he ate with great relish.
These five animals usually took it in turns to go out to their farm a few miles away every morning, to bring home food for the day. It being Goat’s turn, he asked Quarcoo to come with him to carry back the load.
The basket was accordingly handed to the little boy and he set off meekly after the goat. When they reached the farm, Quarcoo set down the basket and ran off to play. He paid no heed at all to the goat’s calls for assistance, but went on quietly playing. At last the goat was so annoyed that he came up to Quarcoo and boxed his ears. To his great astonishment, the boy gave him such a blow that he fell to the ground. Quarcoo then proceeded to beat him till he cried for mercy. Nor would he stop his blows till the goat had promised to finish the work, carry home the load, and tell no one what had happened. Having promised this, the goat was allowed to go free. By this time the poor animal’s face was bruised and swollen.
When the time came to go home the goat had to pack up the load and put it on his head. Then they set out.
As soon as they came in sight of their cottage, Quarcoo took the basket from the goat and he himself carried it into the cottage.
The other animals all exclaimed in wonder when they saw the goat’s face, and asked him how it had happened. “I was unfortunate enough to get into a swarm of bees when I was working. They stung me,” answered the poor goat.
Next day it was the wolf’s turn to go to the farm. He also returned, much bruised and swollen. Goat (guessing what had happened) listened with a smile to the excuses made by Wolf to the others.
Goat and Wolf afterward talked the matter over and wondered much at the strength of the little boy.
Each day another animal took his turn at the farm, and each day he returned in the same condition as his friends had done. At last all the animals had been, and all now came together to discuss how best they might get rid of Quarcoo Bah-boni.
They made up their minds that, early the following morning, they would start off together and leave the boy in possession of the house. They prepared a big basket of food and set it ready.
Unfortunately for them, Quarcoo had heard their discussion and decided that he also would go with them. He quietly got himself a large leaf, rolled it round him (for he was very tiny) and laid himself down in the basket of food.
At dawn the animals got up very quietly. Goat, being the youngest, was given the basket to carry. They started, feeling very thankful to get away from the tiresome boy never dreaming that they were carrying him along with them.
When they had gone a fair distance Goat, feeling very hot and tired, sat down to rest for a little while. As soon as the others had gone out of sight, he opened the basket, meaning to have some food unknown to his friends. His greed was rewarded, however, by a terrible blow on the face. He then heard the words, “Shut the basket at once, and say nothing to the others.” He obeyed and hurried after the others in fear of this terrible boy.
As soon as he reached them he called out, “Wolf, Wolf, it is your turn now to take the basket. I am very tired.” Wolf took the load at once.
They had not gone far when Wolf began to think of all the nice things in the basket and he also said he was going to rest a little while in the shade. Having got rid of the others in this way, he hastily opened the basket. He was greeted by Quarcoo in the same way as Goat had been, and speedily closed the basket and followed the others. In this way each animal got his turn of carrying the basket, and each was punished for his greed.
Finally, Elephant’s turn came. When he rejoined the others and asked some one to relieve him of his load they cried out, “If you do not want to carry it any farther, throw it away.” He did so, and they all took to their heels. They ran for several miles and only stopped when they came to a huge tree, in whose shade they sat down to rest, being quite breathless.
Quarcoo, however, had got there before them. He had quietly stepped out of the basket, taken a short cut across country and arrived at the tree some time before them. He guessed that they would probably rest there so he climbed up into the branches. There he remained, hidden among the leaves, while the animals sat on the ground below.
There they discussed Quarcoo and all the trouble he had caused them. They blamed Goat for having been the one to persuade them to take the boy as a servant. Goat being the youngest of the company had the domestic work to do and he had welcomed the idea of help. Goat indignantly denied being the cause of all their troubles, saying: “If I am really to blame for the admission of Quarcoo let him appear before us.” Quarcoo promptly jumped down from the tree and stood in front of them. They were so alarmed at his appearance they scattered in all directions. The wolf ran to the woods the tiger into the heart of the forest, the elephant to Nigeria, the lion to the desert, and the goat to the abode of human beings. That is the reason why they live now in these various places instead of all together as they did previously.
KWOFI AND THE GODS
Kwofi was the eldest son of a farmer who had two wives. Kwofi’s mother had no other children.
When the boy was three years old his mother died. Kwofi was given to his stepmother to mind. After this she had many children. Kwofi, of course, was the eldest of all.
When he was about ten years old his father also died. Kwofi had now no relative but his stepmother, for whom he had to work.
As he grew older, she saw how much more clever and handsome he was than her own children, and grew very jealous of him. He was such a good hunter that day after day he came home laden with meat or with fish.
Every day she treated him in the same way. She cooked the meat, then portioned it out. She gave to each a large helping, but when it came to Kwofi’s turn she would say, “Oh, my son Kwofi, there’s none left for you! You must go to the field and get some ripe paw-paw.” Kwofi never complained. Never once did he taste any of the meat he had hunted. At every meal the others were served, but there was never enough for him.
One evening, when the usual thing had happened, Kwofi was preparing to go to the field to fetch some paw-paw for his supper. All at once one of the gods appeared in the village, carrying a great bag over his shoulder. He summoned all the villagers together with these words: “Oh, my villagers, I come with a bag of death for you!”
Thereupon he began to distribute the contents of his bag among them. When he came to Kwofi he said: “Oh, my son Kwofi, there was never sufficient meat for you, neither is there any death.”
As he said these words every one in the village died except Kwofi. He was left to reign there in peace, which he did very happily.
THE TAIL OF THE PRINCESS ELEPHANT
There once lived a woman who had three sons. These sons were very much attached to their mother and always tried to please her. She at last grew very old and feeble. The three sons began to think what they could do to give her great pleasure. The eldest promised that when she was dead he would cut a fine sepulchre in stone for her. The second said he would make a beautiful coffin. The youngest said, “I will go and get the tail of the princess elephant and put it in the coffin with her.” This promise was by far the hardest one to keep.
Soon after this their mother died. The youngest son immediately set out on his search, not knowing in the least where he would be likely to find the tail. He travelled for three weeks, and at the end of that time he came to a little village. There he met an old woman, who seemed very much surprised to see him. She said no human creature had ever been there before. The boy told the tale of his search for the princess elephant. The old woman replied that this village was the home of all the elephants, and the princess slept there every night. But she warned him that if the animals saw him they would kill him. The young man begged her to hide him which she did, in a great pile of wood.
She also told him that when the elephants were all asleep he must get up and go to the eastern corner. There he would find the princess. He must walk boldly over, cut off the tail and return in the same manner. If he were to walk stealthily, the elephants would waken and seize him.
The animals returned as it was growing dark. They said at once that they smelt a human being. The old woman assured them that they were mistaken. Their supper was ready, so they ate it and went to bed.
In the middle of the night the young man got up and walked boldly across to where the princess slept. He cut off the tail and returned as he had come. He then started for home, carrying the tail very carefully.
When daylight came the elephants awoke. One said he had dreamed that the princess’s tail was stolen. The others beat him for thinking such a thing. A second said he also had had the dream, and he also was beaten. The wisest of the elephants then suggested that they might do well to go and see if the dream were true. This they did. They found the princess fast asleep and quite ignorant of the loss of her tail. They wakened her and all started off in chase of the young man.
They travelled so quickly that in a few hours they came in sight of him. He was afraid when he saw them coming and cried out to his favourite idol (which he always carried in his hair), “O my juju Depor! What shall I do?” The juju advised him to throw the branch of a tree over his shoulder. This he did and it immediately grew up into a huge tree, which blocked the path of the elephants. They stopped and began to eat up the tree which took them some little time.
Then they continued their way again. Again the young man cried, “O my juju Depor! What shall I do?” “Throw that corn-cob behind you,” answered the juju. The lad did so, and the corn-cob immediately grew into a large field of maize.
The elephants ate their way through the maize, but when they arrived at the other side they found that the boy had reached home. So they had to give up the chase and return to their village. The princess, however, refused to do so, saying, “I will return when I have punished this impudent fellow.”
She thereupon changed herself into a very beautiful maiden, and taking a calabash cymbal in her hand approached the village. All the people came out to admire this lovely girl.
She had it proclaimed through the village that whoever succeeded in shooting an arrow at the cymbal should have her for a bride. The young men all tried and failed. An old man standing by said, “If only Kwesi the cutter of the princess elephant’s tail—were here, he could hit the cymbal.” “Then Kwesi is the man I will marry,” replied the maiden, “whether he hit the cymbal or not.”
Kwesi was quickly fetched from the field where he was ploughing, and told of his good luck. He, however, was not at all delighted to hear of it, as he suspected the maiden of some trick.
However, he came and shot an arrow which struck the centre of the cymbal. The damsel and he were [127]accordingly married. She was all the time preparing to punish him.
The night following their marriage she turned into an elephant, while Kwesi was asleep. She then prepared to kill him, but Kwesi awoke in time. He called, “O my juju Depor! Save me!” The juju turned him into a grass mat lying on the bed and the princess could not find him. She was most annoyed and next morning asked him where he had been all night. “While you were an elephant I was the mat you lay on,” replied Kwesi. The damsel took all the mats from the bed and burned them.
Next night the princess again became an elephant and prepared to kill her husband. This time the juju changed him into a needle and his wife could not find him. She again asked him in the morning where he had been. Hearing that the juju had helped him again she determined to get hold of the idol and destroy it.
Next day Kwesi was going again to his farm to plough a field. He told his wife to bring him some food to the resting-place. This time she had fairly made up her mind that he should not escape. When he had had his food she said, “Now lay your head in my lap and sleep.” Kwesi quite forgot that his juju was hidden in his hair and did as she bid. As soon as he was asleep she took the juju out of his hair and threw it into a great fire which she had prepared. Kwesi awoke to find her an elephant once more. In great fear he cried out, “O my juju Depor! What am I to do?” All the answer he got, however, came from the flames. “I am burning, I am burning, I am burning.” Kwesi called again for help and the juju replied, “Lift up your arms as if you were flying.” He did so and turned into a hawk.
That is the reason why hawks are so often seen flying in the smoke of fires. They are looking for their lost juju.