The Partnership of Rabbit and Elephant, and what came of it.

In 1876, while we were travelling towards the Albert Edward Nyanza, Sabadu and Bujomba and others of our Waganda escort would join us at our evening fire, and when they found what entertainment was to be had, they readily yielded to the invitation to contribute their share to it. Besides, Sabadu was unequalled in the art of story-telling: he was fluent and humorous, while his mimicry of the characters he described kept everybody’s interest on the alert. To the Rabbit of course he gave a wee thin voice, to the Elephant he gave a deep bass, to the Buffalo a hollow mooing. When he attempted the Lion, the veins of his temple and neck were dreadfully distended as he made the effort; but when he mimicked the Dog, one almost expected a little terrier-like dog to trot up to the fire, so perfect was his yaup-yaup.

Every one agreed as Sabadu began his story that his manner, even his style of sitting and smoothing his face, the pose of his head, betrayed the man of practice. The following is his story:—

In Willimesi, Uganda, a Rabbit and an Elephant, coming from different directions, met on a road one day, and being old friends, stopped to greet one another, and chat about the weather and the crops, and to exchange opinions on the state of trade. Finally the Rabbit proposed that the Elephant should join him in a partnership to make a little trading expedition to the Watusi shepherds, “because,” said he, “I hear there are some good chances to make profit among them. Cloth, I am told, is very scarce there, and I think we might find a good bargain awaiting us.” The Elephant was nothing loth, and closed with the offer of his little friend, and a couple of bales of assorted goods were prepared for the journey.

They set out on particularly good terms with each other, and Rabbit, who had a good store of experiences, amused the Elephant greatly. By-and-by the pair of friends arrived at a river, and the Elephant, to whom the water was agreeable, stepped in to cross it, but halted on hearing Rabbit exclaim:

“Why, Elephant, you surely are not going to cross without me? Are we not partners?”

“Of course we are partners, but I did not agree to carry you or your pack. Why don’t you step right in? The water is not deep, it scarcely covers my feet.”

“But, you stupid fellow, can you not see that what will scarcely cover your feet is more than enough to drown me, and I can’t swim a bit; and, besides, if I get my fur wet I shall catch the ague, and how ever am I to carry my pack across?”

“Well, I cannot help that. It was you who proposed to take the journey, and I thought a wise fellow like you would have known that there were rivers running across the road, and that you knew what to do. If you cannot travel, then good-bye. I cannot stop here all day,” and the Elephant walked on across to the other side.

“Surly rascal,” muttered Rabbit. “All right, my big friend, I will pay you for it some time.”

Not far off, however, Rabbit found a log, and after placing his pack on it, he paddled himself over, and reached the other bank safely; but to his grief he discovered that his bale had been wetted and damaged.

Rabbit wiped the water up as much as possible, and resumed the journey with the Elephant, who had looked carelessly on the efforts of his friend to cross the river.

Fortunately for Rabbit, the latter part of the journey did not present such difficulties, and they arrived in due time among the Watusi shepherds.

Now at a trade Elephant was not to be compared with Rabbit, for he could not talk so pleasantly as Rabbit, and he was not at all sociable. Rabbit went among the women, and laughed and joked with them, and said so many funny things, that they were delighted with him, and when at last the trade question was cautiously touched upon, a chief’s wife was so kind to him, that she gave a mighty fine cow in exchange for his little bale of cloth. Elephant, on the other hand, went among the men, and simply told them that he had come to buy cattle with cloth. The Watusi shepherds, not liking his appearance or his manner, said they had no cattle to sell, but if he cared to have it, they would give a year-old heifer for his bale. Though Elephant’s bale was a most weighty one, and many times more valuable than Rabbit’s, yet as he was so gruff and ugly, he was at last obliged to be satisfied with the little heifer.

Just as they had left the Watusi to begin their return journey, Elephant said to Rabbit, “Now mind, should we meet anyone on the road, and we are asked whose cattle these are, I wish you to oblige me by saying that they are mine, because I should not like people to believe that I am not as good a trader us yourself. They will also be afraid to touch them if they know they belong to me; whereas, if they hear that they belong to you, every fellow will think he has as good a right to them as yourself, and you dare not defend your property.”

“Very well,” replied Rabbit, “I quite understand.”

In a little while, as Rabbit and Elephant drove their cattle along, they met many people coming from market who stopped and admired them, and said, “Ah, what a fine cow is that! to whom does it belong?”

“It belongs to me,” answered the thin voice of Rabbit. “The little one belongs to Elephant.”

“Very fine indeed. A good cow that,” replied the people, and passed on.

Vexed and annoyed, Elephant cried angrily to Rabbit, “Why did you not answer as I told you? Now mind, do as I tell you at the next meeting with strangers.”

“Very well,” answered Rabbit, “I will try and remember.”

By-and-by they met another party going home with fowls and palm wine, who, when they came up, said, “Ah that is a fine beast, and in prime order. Whose is it?”

“It is mine,” quickly replied Rabbit, “and the little scabby heifer belongs to Elephant.”

This answer enraged Elephant, who said, “What an obstinate little fool you are. Did you not hear me ask you to say it was mine? Now, remember, you are to say so next time, or I leave you to find your own way home, because I know you are a horrible little coward.”

“Very well, I’ll do it next time,” replied Rabbit in a meek voice.

In a short time they met another crowd, which stopped when opposite to them, and the people said, “Really, that is an exceedingly fine cow. To which of you does it belong?”

“It is mine. I bought it from the Watusi,” replied Rabbit.

The Elephant was so angry this time, that he broke away from Rabbit, and drove his little heifer by another road, and to Lion, and Hyena, and Buffalo, and Leopard, whom he met, he said what a fine fat cow was being driven by cowardly little Rabbit along the other road. He did this out of mere spite, hoping that some one of them would be tempted to take it by force from Rabbit.

But Rabbit was wise, and had seen the spite in Elephant’s face as he went off, and was sure that he would play him some unkind trick; and, as night was falling and his home was far, and he knew that there were many vagabonds lying in wait to rob poor travellers, he reflected that if his wit failed to save him he would be in great danger.

True enough, it was not long before a big blustering lion rose from the side of the road, and cried out, “Hello, you there. Where are you going with that cow? Come, speak out.”

“Ah, is that you, Lion? I am taking it to Mugassa (the deity), who is about to give a feast to all his friends, and he told me particularly to invite you to share it, if I should meet you.”

“Eh? What? To Mugassa? Oh, well, I am proud to have met you, Rabbit. As I am not otherwise engaged I will accompany you, because everyone considers it an honour to wait upon Mugassa.”

They proceeded a little further, and a bouncing buffalo came up and bellowed fiercely. “You, Rabbit, stop,” said he. “Where are you taking that cow to?”

“I am taking it to Mugassa, don’t you know. How would a little fellow like me have the courage to go so far from home if it were not that I am on service for Mugassa? I am charged also to tell you, Buffalo, that if you like to join in the feast Mugassa is about to give, he will be glad to have you as a guest.”

“Oh, well, that is good news indeed. I will come along now, Rabbit, and am very glad to have met you. How do you do, Lion?”

A short distance off the party met a huge rogue elephant, who stood in the middle of the road, and demanded to know where the cow was being taken, in a tone which required a quick answer.

“Now, Elephant, get out of the way. This cow is being taken to Mugassa, who will be angry with you if I am delayed. Have you not heard of the feast he is about to give? By the bye, as you are one of the guests, you might as well help me to drive this cow, and let me get on your back, for I am dreadfully tired.”

“Why, that’s grand,” said the Elephant, “I shall be delighted to feast with Mugassa, and—come get on my back. I will carry you with pleasure. And, Rabbit,” whispered Elephant, as he lifted him by his trunk, “don’t forget to speak a good word for me to Mugassa.”

Soon a leopard and then a hyena were met, but seeing such a powerful crowd behind the cow, they affected great civility, and were invited to accompany Rabbit’s party to Mugassa’s feast.

It was quite dark by the time they arrived at Rabbit’s village. At the gate stood two dogs, who were Rabbit’s chums, and they barked furiously; but hearing their friend’s voice, they came up and welcomed Rabbit.

The party halted, and Rabbit, after reaching the ground, whispered to Dogs how affairs stood, and Dogs wagged their tails approvingly, and yauped with fun as they heard of Rabbit’s wit. It did not take long for Dogs to understand what was required of them, and one of them bounded off to the village, and after a short time returned with a pretended message from the great Mugassa.

“Well, my friends, do you hear what Mugassa says?” cried Rabbit, with a voice of importance.

“Dogs are to lay mats inside the village by the gate, and the cow is to be killed, and the meat prepared nicely and laid on the mats. And when that is done, Mugassa himself will come and give each his portion. He says that you are all very welcome.

“Now listen to me before I go in to Mugassa, and I will show you how you can all help to hurry the feast, for I am sure you are all anxious to begin.

“You, Hyena, you must kill the cow, and dress the meat, and Dogs will carry it in and lay it on the mats; but remember, if a bit is touched before Mugassa commands, we are all ruined.

“You, Elephant, you take this brass hatchet of Mugassa’s, and split wood nicely for the hearth.

“Buffalo, you go and find a wood with a smooth bark and which burns well, and bring it to Elephant.

“Leopard, you go to the banana plantation, and watch for the falling leaf and catch it with your eyelids, in order that we may have proper plates.

“Lion, my friend, do you go and fill this pot from the spring, and bring water that Mugassa may wash his hands.”

Having issued his instructions, Rabbit went strutting into the village; but after he had gone a little way he darted aside, and passing through a side door, went out and came creeping up towards an ant-hill. On the top was a tuft of grass, and from his hiding-place he commanded a view of the gate, and of all who might come near it.

Now Buffalo could only find one log with smooth bark, and Dogs shouted out to Buffalo that one log was not enough to roast or to boil the meat, and he returned to hunt up some more.

Elephant struck the log with his brass hatchet, which was broken at the first blow, and there was nothing else with which to cut the wood.

Leopard watched and watched for falling leaves, but failed to see any.

Lion’s pot had a hole in the bottom, and he could never keep it full, though he tried ever so many times.

Meanwhile Hyena having killed the cow and dressed the meat beautifully, said to Dogs, “Now, my friends, the meat is ready. What shall I do?”

“You can help us carry the meat in, and lay it on the mats, if you like, for Mugassa must see it before anybody can touch it.”

“Ah, but I feel extremely hungry, and my mouth waters so that I am sick with longing. May we not go shares and eat a little bit? It looks very nice and fat,” whined the Hyena.

“Ah, no, we should not dare do such a thing. We have long ago left the woods, and its habits, and are unfit for anything but human society; but if you were allowed to eat any, you could fly into the woods, and we should have all the blame. No, no, come, help us carry it inside. You will not have to wait long.”

The Hyena was obliged to obey, but contrived to hide in the grass some of the tripe. Rabbit, from behind his tuft of grass, saw it all, and winked in the dark.

When the meat was in, Dogs said, “It is all right now. Just stay outside until the other fellows arrive.”

Hyena retired, and when he was outside of the gate searched for his tripe, and lay down quietly to enjoy it, but as he was about to bite it, Rabbit screamed, “Ah, you thief, Hyena. You thief, I see you. Stop thief, Mugassa is coming.”

These cries so alarmed Hyena that he dropped his tripe, and fled away as fast as his legs could carry him, and the others, Buffalo, Elephant, Lion, and Leopard, tired out with waiting, and hearing these alarming cries, also ran away, leaving Rabbit and his dog friends in quiet possession. They carried the tripe into the village, and closed the gate and barred it, after which they laughed loud and long, Rabbit rolling on the ground over and over with the fun of it all.

My friends, Rabbit was the smallest of all, but by his wisdom he was more than a match for two Elephants, Buffalo, Leopard, Lion, Hyena, and all. And even his friends, the Dogs, had to confess that Rabbit’s wit could not be matched. That is my tale.