The Legend of the Cunning Terrapin and the Crane.
The following story of the cunning Terrapin and the Crane established Kadu’s reputation among us, and the Zanzibaris were never so amused as on this evening.
“Master,” began Kadu, after we had made ourselves comfortable before a bright and crackling fire, “some men say that animals do not reason, and cannot express themselves, but I should like to know how it is that we perceive that there is great cunning in their actions, as though they calculated beforehand how to act, and what would be the result. We Waganda think animals are very clever. We observe the cock in the yard, and the hen with her chickens; the leopard, as he is about to pounce on his prey; the lion, as he is about to attack; the crocodile, as he prepares for his rush; the buffalo in the shade, as he awaits the hunter; the elephant, as he stands at attention; and we say to ourselves, how intelligent they are! Our legends are all founded on these things, and we interpret the actions of animals from having seen their methods; and I think men placed in the same circumstances could not have acted much better. It may appear to you, as though we were telling you mere idle tales to raise a laugh. Well, it may be very amusing to hear and talk about them, but it is still more amusing to watch the tricks of animals and insects, and our old men are fond of quoting the actions of animals to teach us, while we are children, what we ought to do. Indeed, there is scarcely a saying but what is founded upon something that an animal was seen to do at one time or another.
“Now the story that I am about to relate, is a very old one in Uganda. I heard it when a child, and from the fact that a Terrapin was said to be so cunning, I have never liked to ill-treat a Terrapin, and every time I see one, the story comes to my mind in all its freshness.”
A Terrapin and a Crane were one time travelling together very sociably. They began their conversation by the Terrapin asking:
“How is your family to-day, Miss Crane?”
“Oh, very well. Mamma, who is getting old, complains now and then, that’s all.”
“But do you know that it strikes me that she is very fat?” said Terrapin. “Now a thought has just entered my head, which I beg to propose to you. My mother, too, is ailing, and I am rather tired of hearing her complaints day after day; but she is exceedingly lean and tough, though there is plenty of her. I wonder what you will say to my plan? We are both hungry. So let us go and kill your mother, and eat her; and to-morrow, you will come to me, and we will kill my mother. We thus shall be supplied with meat for some days.”
Replied the Crane, “I like the idea greatly, and agree to it. Let us go about it at once, for hunger is an exacting mistress, and the days of fasting are more frequent than those of fulness.”
The matricides turned upon their tracks, and, arriving at the house of Mrs Crane, the two cruel creatures seized upon Mamma Crane, and put her to death. They then plucked her clean, and placed her body in the stew-pot, and both Terrapin and Crane feasted.
Terrapin then crawled home, leaving Crane to sleep, and the process of digestion. But, alas! Crane soon became very ill. Whether some qualms of conscience disturbed digestion or not, I cannot say, but she passed a troublesome night, and for several days afterwards she did not stir from her house.
Terrapin, on reaching the house of its mamma, which was in the hollow of a tree, cried out:
“Tu-no-no-no!” upon which Mrs Terrapin said, “Oh, that is my child,” and she let down a cord, to which young Terrapin made himself fast, and was assisted to the nest where the parent had already prepared a nice supper for him.
Several days later, Terrapin was proceeding through the woods to the pool where he was accustomed to bathe, when at the water-side he met Miss Crane apparently quite spruce and strong again.
She hailed Terrapin and said, “Oh, here you are, at last. I have been waiting to see you for some time.”
“Yes,” replied Terrapin, “here I am, and you—how do you feel now? My neighbours told me you were very ill.”
“I am all right again,” said Miss Crane, “but I think my old ma disagreed with me, and I was quite poorly for some days; but I am now anxious to know when you are going to keep your part of the bargain which we made.”
“What—you mean about the disposing of my old ma?”
“Yes, to be sure,” answered Crane, “I feel quite hungry.”
“Well, well. Bargains should always be kept, for if the blood-oath be broken misfortune follows. Your mother’s death rests on my head, and I mean to return your hospitality with interest, otherwise, may my shell be soon empty of its tenant. Stay here awhile and I will bring her.”
So saying, Terrapin departed, and crept to where he had secretly stowed a quantity of india-rubber, in readiness for the occasion. After taking out quite a mass of it, he returned to the pond, where Miss Crane stood on one leg, expectant and winking pleasantly.
“I fear, sister Crane,” said Terrapin, as he laid his burden down, “that you will find my old ma tough. She turned out to be much leaner than I anticipated. There is no more fat on her bones, than there is on my back. But now, fall to, and welcome. There is plenty there. I am not hungry myself, as I have just finished my dinner.”
Miss Crane, with her empty stomach, was not fastidious, and stepped out eagerly to the feast so faithfully provided, and began to tear away at what Terrapin had brought. The rubber, however, stretched by the greedy Crane, suddenly flew from her foot, and rebounding, struck her in the face a smart blow.
“Oh! oh!” cried Crane, confused with the blow. “Your old ma is most tough.”
“Yes, she is. I suspected she would prove a little tough,” answered Terrapin, with a chuckle. “But don’t be bashful. Eat away, and welcome.”
Again Miss Crane tugged at the rubber to tear it, but the more it was stretched, the more severe were the shocks she received, and her left eye was almost blinded.
“Well, I never,” exclaimed Miss Crane. “She is too tough altogether.”
“Try again,” cried Terrapin. “Try again; little by little, it is said, a fly eats a cow’s tail. You will get a rare and tender bit in time.”
Miss Crane thus pressed, did so, and seizing a piece lay back, and drew on it so hard that when the rubber at last slipped, it bounded back with such force, that she was sent sprawling to the ground.
“Why, what is the matter?” asked Terrapin, pretending to be astonished. “She is tough, I admit; but loh! our family are famous for toughness. However, the tougher it is, the longer it lasts on the stomach. Try again, sister Crane; I warrant you will manage it next time.”
“Oh, bother your old ma. Eat her yourself. I have had enough of that kind of meat.”
“You give it up, do you?” cried Terrapin. “Well, well, it is a pity to throw good meat away. Maybe, if I keep it longer it will get tenderer by and by.”
They thus parted, Terrapin bearing his share of rubber away in one direction, and Miss Crane sadly disgusted, striding grandly off in another, but looking keenly about for something to satisfy her hunger.
When she had gone a great distance a parrot flew across her path, and perching on a branch near her, cried out, “Oh, royal bird, say since when has rubber become the food of the bird-king’s family?”
“What do you mean, Parrot?” she asked.
“Well, I saw you tearing at a piece of rubber just now, and when you marched off Terrapin carried it away, and I heard him say—because he has a habit of speaking his thoughts aloud—Oh, how stupid my sister Crane is! She thinks my ma is dead. Ho, ho, ho! what a stupid! And all the way he chuckled and laughed as though he was filled with plantain wine.”
“Is his ma not dead then?” asked Miss Crane.
“Dead! Not a bit of it,” replied Parrot. “I saw old Ma Terrapin but a moment ago as I flew by her tree, waiting for her son, and the cord is ready for his cry of ‘Tu-no-no-no. Ano-no-no. We-no-no-no!’”
“Ah, Parrot, your words are good. When we know what another is saying behind our backs, we discover the workings of his heart. The words of Terrapin are like the bush that covers the trap. Good-by, Parrot. When we next meet, we shall have another story to tell.”
On the next day, Terrapin observed Miss Crane approaching his house, and he advanced a little way to meet her.
“Well, sister Crane, I hope you are all right this morning?” he asked.
“Oh yes, so so, brother Terrapin. But you must excuse me just now; I’ve heard bad news from my family. A brother and sister of mine are suddenly taken ill, and I am bound to go and visit them,” answered Crane.
“Ah, Miss Crane, that reminds me of my own brother and sister, who are much younger than I am, but very soft and tender. What do you say now to making another bargain?” asked Terrapin with a wink.
“You are very good, Terrapin. I will think of it as I go along. I shall be back before noon to-morrow, and we will talk of a trade then.” They were very civil to one another as they parted. Terrapin went for his usual walk to the pond, Miss Crane proceeded to visit her family, but muttered:
“Ha, ha, Terrapin, you are great at a trade; but you will not make another with me in a hurry till our first one is squared.”
After she had gone a little way she turned suddenly round and came back to the foot of Terrapin’s tree, and cried,
“Tu-no-no-no. Ano-no-no-no. We-no-no-no!”
“Ah, that is my child’s voice,” said Ma Terrapin to herself, and let down the cord.
Miss Crane caught hold and climbed up towards the nest. Ma Terrapin craned her neck out far to welcome her child, but before she could discover by what means little Terrapin had changed its dress, Miss Crane struck Ma Terrapin with her long sharp bill in the place where the neck joins the shoulder, and in a short time Ma Terrapin was as dead as Miss Crane’s own mother.
The body was rolled from the nest, and it went falling down, and Miss Crane slid quickly after it.
In a quiet place screened by thick bushes Miss Crane made a great fire, with which Ma Terrapin’s thick shell was cracked. She then scooped out the flesh, and carried it to her own home, and stowed it in a big black pot.
On the next day as Miss Crane was standing on one leg by the pond, with her head half buried in her feathers, who should come along but Terrapin, crying bitterly, and saying, “Ah, my ma is dead. My old ma has been killed. Who will assist me now?”
Miss Crane affected to be asleep, but heard every word. When, however, Terrapin was near, she woke up suddenly and said, cheerfully,
“Ah! it is Terrapin, my little brother Terrapin. How do you do to-day?”
Now as Terrapin had already slain his mother, according to his own confession, it struck him that it would not do to accuse Miss Crane of the murder, because by doing so he would expose his breach of faith with her, but the scent of the roasted flesh of Ma Terrapin came strong just then, and he knew that it was Crane who, discovering his trick, had killed her.
He managed, however, to reply briskly:
“Sissy, dear, I am but tolerable. But how is your family to-day?”
“My brother and sister are much improved, Terrapin. They are both as fat as tallow. By-the-bye, what about that trade you proposed to me?”
“I am ready, Miss Crane, for a trade any day. When shall it be?”
“No time so good as the present, and if you jog along to the other end of the pond, I will fix my house here, and soon catch up with you.”
Terrapin professed great delight, and toddled along; but when he had gone a little way his bad habit of thinking aloud came on him, and he was heard to say:—
“My poor ma! my poor ma is dead! O you wicked Crane! I know by the scent of the meat that you have killed my ma. What can I do now?”
Miss Crane knew then that she had been discovered, and she began to think that it was time to remove to another district, for Terrapin had many friends in the woods, such as rabbits, jackals, lions, and serpents, and if Terrapin moaned so loud, all the people of the woods would know what she had done, and many would no doubt assist him to punish her. Casting about in her mind for the best place, she remembered an extremely tall tree which was not far from Terrapin’s house, a very lofty clean-shafted tree, on the top of which she would be safe from surprise.
Thither she hastily removed her belongings, and soon established herself comfortably. She had also provided herself with a store of strong sticks to be used as weapons in case of necessity.
Terrapin meanwhile crawled along, moaning loudly his lamentations. Suddenly Rabbit popped out of the woods, and stood in his path. He soon was made aware of Terrapin’s bereavement, and strongly sympathised with him. Terrapin related the story in such a way that made Miss Crane appear to be a murderess, against whom the people of the woods should take vengeance.
“Then,” said Rabbit, “that must be Miss Crane, who is building her house on the very top of that tall tree near your place.”
“Is she?” asked Terrapin. “I did not know that. She was to have met me here; but I see she knows that she is detected, and is already taking measures to protect herself. But, Rabbit, you who are always wise, tell me how I may avenge myself?”
“There is only one way that I know of,” answered Rabbit, dubiously. “Go to the Soko (Gorilla?), but he is a hard dealer who will make you pay handsomely for his help. Soko is the king of the ape kind. If you pay him well, he will fasten a cord to Crane’s nest, up which you can climb when she is absent. Once there, lie quietly, and when she alights seize her.”
The plan pleased Terrapin immensely, and possessing a comfortable property upon the loss of his mother, he thought he had sufficient to purchase Soko’s assistance.
Through the good offices of Rabbit negotiations were entered into with Soko, who agreed for a potful of good nuts, ten bunches of ripe bananas, one hundred eggs, and sundry other trifles, to hang a stout rattan climber to Crane’s nest, long enough to reach the ground.
The royal bird was soon informed of the conspiracy against her by the Parrot, who loves to carry tales, and Miss Crane resolved to be absent from home while Soko was fastening the climber, but commissioned her friend the Parrot to observe the proceedings, and to report to her when Soko had completed his task.
Soko performed his part expeditiously. Terrapin tested the strength of the rattan, and had to confess that Soko had earned his pay, and Rabbit accompanied Terrapin and Soko to Terrapin’s house to see the Soko receive his commission.
As they departed Parrot flew to inform Miss Crane, who immediately returned to her house to await her enemy.
Not long after Terrapin came to the foot of Crane’s tree and commenced to climb up. He had nearly reached the top when Miss Crane stood up and delivered such a thwacking blow on Terrapin’s back that it caused him to loose his hold and fall to the ground. When Terrapin recovered his senses, he heard Miss Crane cry out—
“Ha! brother Terrapin, that was a nasty fall. You remember the rubber, don’t you? There is nothing like the advice you gave me. Try again, Terrapin, my brother. Try again.”
“You killed my ma, did you not?” asked Terrapin.
“I thought you told me that you had killed her according to agreement. Then how can you say that I killed her?” asked Miss Crane.
“That was not my ma I gave you. It was only a lump of rubber.”
“Ho, ho! You confess it then? Well, we are now quits. You induced me to kill my ma, and as you could not keep your part of the bargain, I saved you the trouble. My ma was as much to me as your ma was to you. We have both lost our ma’s now. So let us call it even, and be friends again.”
Terrapin hesitated, but the memory of his ma’s loss soon produced the old bitterness, and he became as unforgiving as ever. Miss Crane must, however, be persuaded that the matter was forgiven, otherwise he would never have the opportunity to avenge his ma’s death.
“All right, Crane,” he answered; “but let me come up, and embrace you over it, or do you descend and let us shake hands.”
“Come up, by all means, Terrapin. I am always at home to friends,” said Miss Crane.
Terrapin upon this began to climb, but as he was ascending he foolishly began to think aloud again, and he was heard saying—
“Oh, yes, sister Crane. Just wait a little, and you will see. He, he, he!”
Miss Crane, who was quietly listening, heard Terrapin’s chuckle and muttering, and prepared to receive him properly. When he was within reach, she cried, “Hold hard, Terrapin,” and at once proceeded to shower mighty blows on his back, then laid the stick on his feet so sharply that, to protect them, he had to withdraw them into his shell, in doing which he lost his hold and fell to the ground with such force that to anything but a terrapin the great fall would have been instantly fatal.
“Try again, Terrapin; try again, my brother. Another time and you will succeed,” cried Miss Crane, mockingly.
Terrapin slowly recovered his faculties from the second fall, and exclaimed, “Ah, Crane, Crane. If I heed you a second time, call me fool. Yesterday and to-day you triumphed, to-morrow will be my turn.”
“Kwa-le, kwa-le,” Miss Crane shrilly cried. “My tree will stand to-morrow where it stood to-day. You know the way to it; if not, your hate will find it.”
Terrapin toddled away upon this to seek the Lion, to whom, when he had found him, he pleaded so powerfully that the Lion pitied him greatly, and answered, “I may not help you in this matter, for I was not made to climb trees. Go you, and tell Jackal your story, and he will be able to advise you.”
Acting on the friendly advice, Terrapin sought out the Jackal, to whom he repeated his lamentable tale. The Jackal rewarded him with a sympathetic sigh, and said, “Friend Terrapin, my teeth are sharp and my feet are swift, but, though I am so happily endowed, I have no wings to fly. Go and seek Elephant. His strength is so great that perhaps he will be able to pull the tree down for you.”
Terrapin proceeded on his way to search out the Elephant, and, after much patient travel, discovered him brooding under a thick shade. To him at once Terrapin unburdened his breast of its load of grief, and appealed piteously for his assistance.
“Little Terrapin,” replied the kindly Elephant, “your tale is dour. But though I am strong, there are some things that I cannot do. Miss Crane’s house is built on one of the biggest trees of the forest, and it would require two score of elephants to drag it down. It is wisdom, and not strength, that you need. Go you and seek Serpent, and he will assist you.”
Thence Terrapin went to seek Serpent, and, after long seeking, found him coiled, in many shining folds, in the fork of a sturdy tree.
“Ah, Serpent,” he cried, “you are a kinsman of mine, and I have long sought you. I am in dire distress, my friend,” and he proceeded to inveigh against Miss Crane passionately, and concluded by invoking his assistance.
“Help me this day,” cried Terrapin, “and you shall be my father and my mother, and all my nearest relations in one.”
“It is well,” replied the Serpent, in his slow, deliberate manner. “Miss Crane shall die, and here I make a pact with you. There shall be no enmity for all future time between your family and mine. Go now, and rest in peace, for the fate of Crane is fixed.”
In the darkness of the night Serpent roused himself from his sleep and, uncoiling himself, descended the tree and glided noiselessly along the ground towards Miss Crane’s tree. The tall clean shaft could not arrest those spiring movements, and the Serpent steadily ascended until he gained the fork. Thence, by an almost imperceptible motion, he advanced towards the nest. Poor Miss Crane was fast asleep, dreaming of the fall of Terrapin, while the Serpent folded his extremity around a stout branch and stood up prepared to strike. Quick as one could wink the Serpent flung himself upon the bird-queen, and in a moment she lay crushed and mangled. Then, seizing her body with his jaws, the Serpent slid down the shaft of the tree and sought Terrapin’s house, and laid her remains before him. Terrapin was overjoyed, and invited Serpent to share with him the dainty feast which the body of Miss Crane supplied.
From that day to this Serpent and Terrapin have remained close friends, and neither has ever been known to break the solemn agreement that was made between them on that day that Terrapin solicited the help of Serpent against the bird-queen.
