Why the Bat flies by Night

The tale explains why bats are nocturnal. Oyot, a bush rat, admired his friend Emiong the bat’s delicious soup, unaware it was pre-prepared. Tricked by the bat into believing the soup’s flavor came from boiling himself, Oyot imitated this, leading to his death. Enraged, Oyot’s wife sought justice, but the bat evaded capture by adopting a nocturnal lifestyle, avoiding humans by day.

Source
Folk Stories from Southern Nigeria
by Elphinstone Dayrell
Longmans, Green & Co.
London, New York, Bombay, Calcutta, 1910


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The bat’s deceit leads to the bush rat’s demise.

Origin of Things: It provides an explanation for why bats are nocturnal.

Good vs. Evil: The bat’s malicious trick contrasts with the bush rat’s innocence.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Nigerian peoples


A bush rat called Oyot was a great friend of Emiong, the bat; they always fed together, but the bat was jealous of the bush rat. When the bat cooked the food it was always very good, and the bush rat said, “How is it that when you make the soup it is so tasty?” The bat replied, “I always boil myself in the water, and my flesh is so sweet, that the soup is good.” He then told the bush rat that he would show him how it was done; so he got a pot of warm water, which he told the bush rat was boiling water, and jumped into it, and very shortly afterwards came out again. When the soup was brought it was as strong and good as usual, as the bat had prepared it beforehand.

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The bush rat then went home and told his wife that he was going to make good soup like the bat’s. He therefore told her to boil some water, which she did. Then, when his wife was not looking, he jumped into the pot, and was very soon dead.

When his wife looked into the pot and saw the dead body of her husband boiling she was very angry, and reported the matter to the king, who gave orders that the bat should be made a prisoner. Every one turned out to catch the bat, but as he expected trouble he flew away into the bush and hid himself. All day long the people tried to catch him, so he had to change his habits, and only came out to feed when it was dark, and that is why you never see a bat in the daytime.


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Of the Pretty Stranger who Killed the King

King Mbotu of Old Town, Calabar, a skilled warrior and wealthy ruler, was targeted by the Itu people, who used a witch disguised as a beautiful woman to assassinate him. After drugging and killing Mbotu, she delivered his head to her king. The Itu forces then attacked the unprepared town, securing victory. The story highlights the danger of trusting strangers, regardless of their charm.

Source
Folk Stories from Southern Nigeria
by Elphinstone Dayrell
Longmans, Green & Co.
London, New York, Bombay, Calcutta, 1910


► Themes of the story

Good vs. Evil: The narrative contrasts the virtuous King Mbotu against the malevolent witch and the Itu people’s deceitful plot.

Cunning and Deception: The witch’s disguise and treacherous actions exemplify the use of deceit to achieve malicious goals.

Tragic Flaw: King Mbotu’s susceptibility to flattery and beauty leads to his demise, highlighting a personal weakness.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Nigerian peoples


Mbotu was a very famous king of Old Town, Calabar. He was frequently at war, and was always successful, as he was a most skilful leader. All the prisoners he took were made slaves. He therefore became very rich, but, on the other hand, he had many enemies. The people of Itu in particular were very angry with him and wanted him dead, but they were not strong enough to beat Mbotu in a pitched battle, so they had to resort to craft. The Itu people had an old woman who was a witch and could turn herself into whatever she pleased, and when she offered to kill Mbotu, the people were very glad, and promised her plenty of money and cloth if she succeeded in ridding them of their enemy.

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The witch then turned herself into a young and pretty girl, and having armed herself with a very sharp knife, which she concealed in her bosom, she went to Old Town, Calabar, to seek the king.

It happened that when she arrived there was a big play being held in the town, and all the people from the surrounding country had come in to dance and feast. Oyaikan, the witch, went to the play, and walked about so that every one could see her. Directly she appeared the people all marvelled at her beauty, and said that she was as beautiful as the setting sun when all the sky was red. Word was quickly brought to king Mbotu, who, it was well known, was fond of pretty girls, and he sent for her at once, all the people agreeing that she was quite worthy of being the king’s wife. When she appeared before him he fancied her so much, that he told her he would marry her that very day. Oyaikan was very pleased at this, as she had never expected to get her opportunity so quickly. She therefore prepared a dainty meal for the king, into which she placed a strong medicine to make the king sleep, and then went down to the river to wash.

When she had finished it was getting dark, so she went to the king’s compound, carrying her dish on her head, and was at once shown in to the king, who embraced her affectionately. She then offered him the food, which she said, quite truly, she had prepared with her own hands. The king ate the whole dish, and immediately began to feel very sleepy, as the medicine was strong and took effect quickly.

They retired to the king’s chamber, and the king went to sleep at once. About midnight, when all the town was quiet, Oyaikan drew her knife from her bosom and cut the king’s head off. She put the head in a bag and went out very softly, shutting and barring the door behind her. Then she walked through the town without any one observing her, and went straight to Itu, where she placed king Mbotu’s head before her own king.

When the people heard that the witch had been successful and that their enemy was dead, there was great rejoicing, and the king of Itu at once made up his mind to attack Old Town, Calabar. He therefore got his fighting men together and took them in canoes by the creeks to Old Town, taking care that no one carried word to Calabar that he was coming.

The morning following the murder of Mbotu his people were rather surprised that he did not appear at his usual time, so his head wife knocked at his door. Not receiving any answer she called the household together, and they broke open the door. When they entered the room they found the king lying dead on his bed covered in blood, but his head was missing. At this a great shout went up, and the whole town mourned. Although they missed the pretty stranger, they never connected her in their minds with the death of their king, and were quite unsuspicious of any danger, and were unprepared for fighting. In the middle of the mourning, while they were all dancing, crying, and drinking palm wine, the king of Itu with all his soldiers attacked Old Town, taking them quite by surprise, and as their leader was dead, the Calabar people were very soon defeated, and many killed and taken prisoners.

MORAL.–Never marry a stranger, no matter how pretty she may be.


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Ituen and the King’s Wife

Ituen, a poor but handsome man from Calabar, became entangled in a tragic affair with Attem, the young wife of King Offiong. Secretly visiting her, he was discovered, leading to his brutal execution. The queen and her servant faced similar fates, punished harshly under Egbo law. As a consequence, a market law was enacted against Ituen’s family, with exceptions for scavenging animals like vultures and dogs.

Source
Folk Stories from Southern Nigeria
by Elphinstone Dayrell
Longmans, Green & Co.
London, New York, Bombay, Calcutta, 1910


► Themes of the story

Love and Betrayal: Ituen’s secret affair with Queen Attem, despite her marriage to King Offiong, highlights themes of forbidden love and the ensuing betrayal of marital vows.

Conflict with Authority: The clandestine relationship challenges the king’s authority, illustrating the perils of defying societal and royal norms.

Tragic Love: The doomed romance between Ituen and the queen, leading to their untimely deaths, underscores the sorrowful outcomes of illicit love affairs.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Nigerian peoples


Ituen was a young man of Calabar. He was the only child of his parents, and they were extremely fond of him, as he was of fine proportions and very good to look upon. They were poor people, and when Ituen grew up and became a man, he had very little money indeed, in fact he had so little food, that every day it was his custom to go to the market carrying an empty bag, into which he used to put anything eatable he could find after the market was over. At this time Offiong was king. He was an old man, but he had plenty of wives. One of these women, named Attem, was quite young and very good-looking.

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She did not like her old husband, but wished for a young and handsome husband. She therefore told her servant to go round the town and the market to try and find such a man and to bring him at night by the side door to her house, and she herself would let him in, and would take care that her husband did not discover him.

That day the servant went all round the town, but failed to find any young man good-looking enough. She was just returning to report her ill-success when, on passing through the market-place, she saw Ituen picking up the remains of corn and other things which had been left on the ground. She was immediately struck with his fine appearance and strength, and saw that he was just the man to make a proper lover for her mistress, so she went up to him, and said that the queen had sent for him, as she was so taken with his good looks. At first Ituen was frightened and refused to go, as he knew that if the King discovered him he would be killed. However, after much persuasion he consented, and agreed to go to the queen’s side door when it was dark.

When night came he went with great fear and trembling, and knocked very softly at the queen’s door. The door was opened at once by the queen herself, who was dressed in all her best clothes, and had many necklaces, beads, and anklets on. Directly she saw Ituen she fell in love with him at once, and praised his good looks and his shapely limbs. She then told her servant to bring water and clothes, and after he had had a good wash and put on a clean cloth, he rejoined the queen. She hid him in her house all the night.

In the morning when he wished to go she would not let him, but, although it was very dangerous, she hid him in the house, and secretly conveyed food and clothes to him. Ituen stayed there for two weeks, and then he said that it was time for him to go and see his mother, but the queen persuaded him to stay another week, much against his will.

When the time came for him to depart, the queen got together fifty carriers with presents for Ituen’s mother who, she knew, was a poor woman. Ten slaves carried three hundred rods; the other forty carried yams, pepper, salt, tobacco, and cloth. When all the presents arrived Ituen’s mother was very pleased and embraced her son, and noticed with pleasure that he was looking well, and was dressed in much finer clothes than usual; but when she heard that he had attracted the queen’s attention she was frightened, as she knew the penalty imposed on any one who attracted the attention of one of the king’s wives.

Ituen stayed for a month in his parents’ house and worked on the farm; but the queen could not be without her lover any longer, so she sent for him to go to her at once. Ituen went again, and, as before, arrived at night, when the queen was delighted to see him again.

In the middle of the night some of the king’s servants, who had been told the story by the slaves who had carried the presents to Ituen’s mother, came into the queen’s room and surprised her there with Ituen. They hastened to the king, and told him what they had seen. Ituen was then made a prisoner, and the king sent out to all his people to attend at the palaver house to hear the case tried. He also ordered eight Egbos to attend armed with machetes. When the case was tried Ituen was found guilty, and the king told the eight Egbo men to take him into the bush and deal with him according to native custom. The Egbos then took Ituen into the bush and tied him up to a tree; then with a sharp knife they cut off his lower jaw, and carried it to the king. When the queen heard the fate of her lover she was very sad, and cried for three days. This made the king angry, so he told the Egbos to deal with his wife and her servant according to their law. They took the queen and the servant into the bush, where Ituen was still tied up to the tree dying and in great pain. Then, as the queen had nothing to say in her defence, they tied her and the girl up to different trees, and cut the queen’s lower jaw off in the same way as they had her lover’s. The Egbos then put out both the eyes of the servant, and left all three to die of starvation. The king then made an Egbo law that for the future no one belonging to Ituen’s family was to go into the market on market day, and that no one was to pick up the rubbish in the market. The king made an exception to the law in favour of the vulture and the dog, who were not considered very fine people, and would not be likely to run off with one of the king’s wives, and that is why you still find vultures and dogs doing scavenger in the market-places even at the present time.


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The King’s Magic Drum

Efriam Duke, a peaceful king of Calabar, owned a magical drum that produced abundant food when beaten, avoiding war by hosting feasts. After a cunning tortoise tricked him into parting with the drum, calamities befell the tortoise due to the drum’s curse. A subsequent magical foo-foo tree granted food daily, but greed caused its Juju to break, leaving the tortoise and his family destitute, living under a prickly tie-tie palm.

Source
Folk Stories from Southern Nigeria
by Elphinstone Dayrell
Longmans, Green & Co.
London, New York, Bombay, Calcutta, 1910


► Themes of the story

Divine Punishment: The tortoise faces supernatural retribution due to his greed and misuse of the magical items.

Sacred Objects: The story revolves around magical items—the drum and the foo-foo tree—that possess special powers.

Trickster: The tortoise embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning to achieve his goals, ultimately leading to his downfall.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Nigerian peoples


Efriam Duke was an ancient king of Calabar. He was a peaceful man, and did not like war. He had a wonderful drum, the property of which, when it was beaten, was always to provide plenty of good food and drink. So whenever any country declared war against him, he used to call all his enemies together and beat his drum; then to the surprise of every one, instead of fighting the people found tables spread with all sorts of dishes, fish, foo-foo, palm-oil chop, soup, cooked yams and ocros, and plenty of palm wine for everybody. In this way he kept all the country quiet, and sent his enemies away with full stomachs, and in a happy and contented frame of mind.

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There was only one drawback to possessing the drum, and that was, if the owner of the drum walked over any stick on the road or stept over a fallen tree, all the food would immediately go bad, and three hundred Egbo men would appear with sticks and whips and beat the owner of the drum and all the invited guests very severely.

Efriam Duke was a rich man. He had many farms and hundreds of slaves, a large store of kernels on the beach, and many puncheons of palm-oil. He also had fifty wives and many children. The wives were all fine women and healthy; they were also good mothers, and all of them had plenty of children, which was good for the king’s house.

Every few months the king used to issue invitations to all his subjects to come to a big feast, even the wild animals were invited; the elephants, hippopotami, leopards, bush cows, and antelopes used to come, for in those days there was no trouble, as they were friendly with man, and when they were at the feast they did not kill one another. All the people and the animals as well were envious of the king’s drum and wanted to possess it, but the king would not part with it.

One morning Ikwor Edem, one of the king’s wives, took her little daughter down to the spring to wash her, as she was covered with yaws, which are bad sores all over the body. The tortoise happened to be up a palm tree, just over the spring, cutting nuts for his midday meal; and while he was cutting, one of the nuts fell to the ground, just in front of the child. The little girl, seeing the good food, cried for it, and the mother, not knowing any better, picked up the palm nut and gave it to her daughter. Directly the tortoise saw this he climbed down the tree, and asked the woman where his palm nut was. She replied that she had given it to her child to eat. Then the tortoise, who very much wanted the king’s drum, thought he would make plenty palaver over this and force the king to give him the drum, so he said to the mother of the child–

“I am a poor man, and I climbed the tree to get food for myself and my family. Then you took my palm nut and gave it to your child. I shall tell the whole matter to the king, and see what he has to say when he hears that one of his wives has stolen my food,” for this, as every one knows, is a very serious crime according to native custom.

Ikwor Edem then said to the tortoise–

“I saw your palm nut lying on the ground, and thinking it had fallen from the tree, I gave it to my little girl to eat, but I did not steal it. My husband the king is a rich man, and if you have any complaint to make against me or my child, I will take you before him.”

So when she had finished washing her daughter at the spring she took the tortoise to her husband, and told him what had taken place. The king then asked the tortoise what he would accept as compensation for the loss of his palm nut, and offered him money, cloth, kernels or palm-oil, all of which things the tortoise refused one after the other.

The king then said to the tortoise, “What will you take? You may have anything you like.”

And the tortoise immediately pointed to the king’s drum, and said that it was the only thing he wanted.

In order to get rid of the tortoise the king said, “Very well, take the drum,” but he never told the tortoise about the bad things that would happen to him if he stept over a fallen tree, or walked over a stick on the road.

The tortoise was very glad at this, and carried the drum home in triumph to his wife, and said, “I am now a rich man, and shall do no more work. Whenever I want food, all I have to do is to beat this drum, and food will immediately be brought to me, and plenty to drink.”

His wife and children were very pleased when they heard this, and asked the tortoise to get food at once, as they were all hungry. This the tortoise was only too pleased to do, as he wished to show off his newly acquired wealth, and was also rather hungry himself, so he beat the drum in the same way as he had seen the king do when he wanted something to eat, and immediately plenty of food appeared, so they all sat down and made a great feast. The tortoise did this for three days, and everything went well; all his children got fat, and had as much as they could possibly eat. He was therefore very proud of his drum, and in order to display his riches he sent invitations to the king and all the people and animals to come to a feast. When the people received their invitations they laughed, as they knew the tortoise was very poor, so very few attended the feast; but the king, knowing about the drum, came, and when the tortoise beat the drum, the food was brought as usual in great profusion, and all the people sat down and enjoyed their meal very much. They were much astonished that the poor tortoise should be able to entertain so many people, and told all their friends what fine dishes had been placed before them, and that they had never had a better dinner. The people who had not gone were very sorry when they heard this, as a good feast, at somebody else’s expense, is not provided every day. After the feast all the people looked upon the tortoise as one of the richest men in the kingdom, and he was very much respected in consequence. No one, except the king, could understand how the poor tortoise could suddenly entertain so lavishly, but they all made up their minds that if the tortoise ever gave another feast, they would not refuse again.

When the tortoise had been in possession of the drum for a few weeks he became lazy and did no work, but went about the country boasting of his riches, and took to drinking too much. One day after he had been drinking a lot of palm wine at a distant farm, he started home carrying his drum; but having had too much to drink, he did not notice a stick in the path. He walked over the stick, and of course the Ju Ju was broken at once. But he did not know this, as nothing happened at the time, and eventually he arrived at his house very tired, and still not very well from having drunk too much. He threw the drum into a corner and went to sleep. When he woke up in the morning the tortoise began to feel hungry, and as his wife and children were calling out for food, he beat the drum; but instead of food being brought, the house was filled with Egbo men, who beat the tortoise, his wife and children, badly. At this the tortoise was very angry, and said to himself–

“I asked every one to a feast, but only a few came, and they had plenty to eat and drink. Now, when I want food for myself and my family, the Egbos come and beat me. Well, I will let the other people share the same fate, as I do not see why I and my family should be beaten when I have given a feast to all people.”

He therefore at once sent out invitations to all the men and animals to come to a big dinner the next day at three o’clock in the afternoon.

When the time arrived many people came, as they did not wish to lose the chance of a free meal a second time. Even the sick men, the lame, and the blind got their friends to lead them to the feast. When they had all arrived, with the exception of the king and his wives, who sent excuses, the tortoise beat his drum as usual, and then quickly hid himself under a bench, where he could not be seen. His wife and children he had sent away before the feast, as he knew what would surely happen. Directly he had beaten the drum three hundred Egbo men appeared with whips, and started flogging all the guests, who could not escape, as the doors had been fastened. The beating went on for two hours, and the people were so badly punished, that many of them had to be carried home on the backs of their friends. The leopard was the only one who escaped, as directly he saw the Egbo men arrive he knew that things were likely to be unpleasant, so he gave a big spring and jumped right out of the compound.

When the tortoise was satisfied with the beating the people had received he crept to the door and opened it. The people then ran away, and when the tortoise gave a certain tap on the drum all the Egbo men vanished. The people who had been beaten were so angry, and made so much palaver with the tortoise, that he made up his mind to return the drum to the king the next day. So in the morning the tortoise went to the king and brought the drum with him. He told the king that he was not satisfied with the drum, and wished to exchange it for something else; he did not mind so much what the king gave him so long as he got full value for the drum, and he was quite willing to accept a certain number of slaves, or a few farms, or their equivalent in cloth or rods.

The king, however, refused to do this; but as he was rather sorry for the tortoise, he said he would present him with a magic foo-foo tree, which would provide the tortoise and his family with food, provided he kept a certain condition. This the tortoise gladly consented to do. Now this foo-foo tree only bore fruit once a year, but every day it dropped foo-foo and soup on the ground. And the condition was, that the owner should gather sufficient food for the day, once, and not return again for more. The tortoise, when he had thanked the king for his generosity, went home to his wife and told her to bring her calabashes to the tree. She did so, and they gathered plenty of foo-foo and soup quite sufficient for the whole family for that day, and went back to their house very happy.

That night they all feasted and enjoyed themselves. But one of the sons, who was very greedy, thought to himself–

“I wonder where my father gets all this good food from? I must ask him.”

So in the morning he said to his father–

“Tell me where do you get all this foo-foo and soup from?”

But his father refused to tell him, as his wife, who was a cunning woman, said–

“If we let our children know the secret of the foo-foo tree, some day when they are hungry, after we have got our daily supply, one of them may go to the tree and gather more, which will break the Ju Ju.”

But the envious son, being determined to get plenty of food for himself, decided to track his father to the place where he obtained the food. This was rather difficult to do, as the tortoise always went out alone, and took the greatest care to prevent any one following him. The boy, however, soon thought of a plan, and got a calabash with a long neck and a hole in the end. He filled the calabash with wood ashes, which he obtained from the fire, and then got a bag which his father always carried on his back when he went out to get food. In the bottom of the bag the boy then made a small hole, and inserted the calabash with the neck downwards, so that when his father walked to the foo-foo tree he would leave a small trail of wood ashes behind him. Then when his father, having slung his bag over his back as usual, set out to get the daily supply of food, his greedy son followed the trail of the wood ashes, taking great care to hide himself and not to let his father perceive that he was being followed. At last the tortoise arrived at the tree, and placed his calabashes on the ground and collected the food for the day, the boy watching him from a distance. When his father had finished and went home the boy also returned, and having had a good meal, said nothing to his parents, but went to bed. The next morning he got some of his brothers, and after his father had finished getting the daily supply, they went to the tree and collected much foo-foo and soup, and so broke the Ju Ju.

At daylight the tortoise went to the tree as usual, but he could not find it, as during the night the whole bush had grown up, and the foo-foo tree was hidden from sight. There was nothing to be seen but a dense mass of prickly tie-tie palm. Then the tortoise at once knew that some one had broken the Ju Ju, and had gathered foo-foo from the tree twice in the same day; so he returned very sadly to his house, and told his wife. He then called all his family together and told them what had happened, and asked them who had done this evil thing. They all denied having had anything to do with the tree, so the tortoise in despair brought all his family to the place where the foo-foo tree had been, but which was now all prickly tie-tie palm, and said–

“My dear wife and children, I have done all that I can for you, but you have broken my Ju Ju; you must therefore for the future live on the tie-tie palm.”

So they made their home underneath the prickly tree, and from that day you will always find tortoises living under the prickly tie-tie palm, as they have nowhere else to go to for food.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

The Woman with Two Skins

The story of Eyamba I of Calabar narrates his journey from a powerful but childless king to one who reconciles with his family. Despite political intrigue driven by his jealous wife and aided by a Ju Ju man, the king’s son and daughter, saved by the Water Ju Ju, emerge triumphant. The tale underscores themes of resilience, justice, and reconciliation, culminating in the son’s rightful ascension to the throne.

Source
Folk Stories from Southern Nigeria
by Elphinstone Dayrell
Longmans, Green & Co.
London, New York, Bombay, Calcutta, 1910


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The king’s head wife employs deceit by using a Ju Ju man’s potion to make the king forget Adiaha, aiming to eliminate her as a rival.

Transformation: Adiaha’s nightly shedding of her outer, ugly skin to reveal her true beauty symbolizes physical transformation and hidden identity.

Supernatural Beings: The narrative involves Ju Ju men who possess magical abilities, influencing events through their supernatural interventions.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Nigerian peoples


Eyamba I. of Calabar was a very powerful king. He fought and conquered all the surrounding countries, killing all the old men and women, but the able-bodied men and girls he caught and brought back as slaves, and they worked on the farms until they died.

This king had two hundred wives, but none of them had borne a son to him. His subjects, seeing that he was becoming an old man, begged him to marry one of the spider’s daughters, as they always had plenty of children.

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But when the king saw the spider’s daughter he did not like her, as she was ugly, and the people said it was because her mother had had so many children at the same time. However, in order to please his people he married the ugly girl, and placed her among his other wives, but they all complained because she was so ugly, and said she could not live with them. The king, therefore, built her a separate house for herself, where she was given food and drink the same as the other wives. Every one jeered at her on account of her ugliness; but she was not really ugly, but beautiful, as she was born with two skins, and at her birth her mother was made to promise that she should never remove the ugly skin until a certain time arrived save only during the night, and that she must put it on again before dawn. Now the king’s head wife knew this, and was very fearful lest the king should find it out and fall in love with the spider’s daughter; so she went to a Ju Ju man and offered him two hundred rods to make a potion that would make the king forget altogether that the spider’s daughter was his wife. This the Ju Ju man finally consented to do, after much haggling over the price, for three hundred and fifty rods; and he made up some “medicine,” which the head wife mixed with the king’s food. For some months this had the effect of making the king forget the spider’s daughter, and he used to pass quite close to her without recognising her in any way. When four months had elapsed and the king had not once sent for Adiaha (for that was the name of the spider’s daughter), she began to get tired, and went back to her parents. Her father, the spider, then took her to another Ju Ju man, who, by making spells and casting lots, very soon discovered that it was the king’s head wife who had made the Ju Ju and had enchanted the king so that he would not look at Adiaha. He therefore told the spider that Adiaha should give the king some medicine which he would prepare, which would make the king remember her. He prepared the medicine, for which the spider had to pay a large sum of money; and that very day Adiaha made a small dish of food, into which she had placed the medicine, and presented it to the king. Directly he had eaten the dish his eyes were opened and he recognised his wife, and told her to come to him that very evening. So in the afternoon, being very joyful, she went down to the river and washed, and when she returned she put on her best cloth and went to the king’s palace.

Directly it was dark and all the lights were out she pulled off her ugly skin, and the king saw how beautiful she was, and was very pleased with her; but when the cock crowed Adiaha pulled on her ugly skin again, and went back to her own house.

This she did for four nights running, always taking the ugly skin off in the dark, and leaving before daylight in the morning. In course of time, to the great surprise of all the people, and particularly of the king’s two hundred wives, she gave birth to a son; but what surprised them most of all was that only one son was born, whereas her mother had always had a great many children at a time, generally about fifty.

The king’s head wife became more jealous than ever when Adiaha had a son; so she went again to the Ju Ju man, and by giving him a large present induced him to give her some medicine which would make the king sick and forget his son. And the medicine would then make the king go to the Ju Ju man, who would tell him that it was his son who had made him sick, as he wanted to reign instead of his father. The Ju Ju man would also tell the king that if he wanted to recover he must throw his son away into the water.

And the king, when he had taken the medicine, went to the Ju Ju man, who told him everything as had been arranged with the head wife. But at first the king did not want to destroy his son. Then his chief subjects begged him to throw his son away, and said that perhaps in a year’s time he might get another son. So the king at last agreed, and threw his son into the river, at which the mother grieved and cried bitterly.

Then the head wife went again to the Ju Ju man and got more medicine, which made the king forget Adiaha for three years, during which time she was in mourning for her son. She then returned to her father, and he got some more medicine from his Ju Ju man, which Adiaha gave to the king. And the king knew her and called her to him again, and she lived with him as before. Now the Ju Ju who had helped Adiaha’s father, the spider, was a Water Ju Ju, and he was ready when the king threw his son into the water, and saved his life and took him home and kept him alive. And the boy grew up very strong.

After a time Adiaha gave birth to a daughter, and her the jealous wife also persuaded the king to throw away. It took a longer time to persuade him, but at last he agreed, and threw his daughter into the water too, and forgot Adiaha again. But the Water Ju Ju was ready again, and when he had saved the little girl, he thought the time had arrived to punish the action of the jealous wife; so he went about amongst the head young men and persuaded them to hold a wrestling match in the market-place every week. This was done, and the Water Ju Ju told the king’s son, who had become very strong, and was very like to his father in appearance, that he should go and wrestle, and that no one would be able to stand up before him. It was then arranged that there should be a grand wrestling match, to which all the strongest men in the country were invited, and the king promised to attend with his head wife.

On the day of the match the Water Ju Ju told the king’s son that he need not be in the least afraid, and that his Ju Ju was so powerful, that even the strongest and best wrestlers in the country would not be able to stand up against him for even a few minutes. All the people of the country came to see the great contest, to the winner of which the king had promised to present prizes of cloth and money, and all the strongest men came. When they saw the king’s son, whom nobody knew, they laughed and said, “Who is this small boy? He can have no chance against us.” But when they came to wrestle, they very soon found that they were no match for him. The boy was very strong indeed, beautifully made and good to look upon, and all the people were surprised to see how like he was to the king.

After wrestling for the greater part of the day the king’s son was declared the winner, having thrown every one who had stood up against him; in fact, some of his opponents had been badly hurt, and had their arms or ribs broken owing to the tremendous strength of the boy. After the match was over the king presented him with cloth and money, and invited him to dine with him in the evening. The boy gladly accepted his father’s invitation; and after he had had a good wash in the river, put on his cloth and went up to the palace, where he found the head chiefs of the country and some of the king’s most favoured wives. They then sat down to their meal, and the king had his own son, whom he did not know, sitting next to him. On the other side of the boy sat the jealous wife, who had been the cause of all the trouble. All through the dinner this woman did her best to make friends with the boy, with whom she had fallen violently in love on account of his beautiful appearance, his strength, and his being the best wrestler in the country. The woman thought to herself, “I will have this boy as my husband, as my husband is now an old man and will surely soon die.” The boy, however, who was as wise as he was strong, was quite aware of everything the jealous woman had done, and although he pretended to be very flattered at the advances of the king’s head wife, he did not respond very readily, and went home as soon as he could.

When he returned to the Water Ju Ju’s house he told him everything that had happened, and the Water Ju Ju said–

“As you are now in high favour with the king, you must go to him to-morrow and beg a favour from him. The favour you will ask is that all the country shall be called together, and that a certain case shall be tried, and that when the case is finished, the man or woman who is found to be in the wrong shall be killed by the Egbos before all the people.”

So the following morning the boy went to the king, who readily granted his request, and at once sent all round the country appointing a day for all the people to come in and hear the case tried. Then the boy went back to the Water Ju Ju, who told him to go to his mother and tell her who he was, and that when the day of the trial arrived, she was to take off her ugly skin and appear in all her beauty, for the time had come when she need no longer wear it. This the son did.

When the day of trial arrived, Adiaha sat in a corner of the square, and nobody recognised the beautiful stranger as the spider’s daughter. Her son then sat down next to her, and brought his sister with him. Immediately his mother saw her she said–

“This must be my daughter, whom I have long mourned as dead,” and embraced her most affectionately.

The king and his head wife then arrived and sat on their stones in the middle of the square, all the people saluting them with the usual greetings. The king then addressed the people, and said that he had called them together to hear a strong palaver at the request of the young man who had been the victor of the wrestling, and who had promised that if the case went against him he would offer up his life to the Egbo. The king also said that if, on the other hand, the case was decided in the boy’s favour, then the other party would be killed, even though it were himself or one of his wives; whoever it was would have to take his or her place on the killing-stone and have their heads cut off by the Egbos. To this all the people agreed, and said they would like to hear what the young man had to say. The young man then walked round the square, and bowed to the king and the people, and asked the question, “Am I not worthy to be the son of any chief in the country?” And all the people answered “Yes!”

The boy then brought his sister out into the middle, leading her by the hand. She was a beautiful girl and well made. When every one had looked at her he said, “Is not my sister worthy to be any chief’s daughter?” And the people replied that she was worthy of being any one’s daughter, even the king’s. Then he called his mother Adiaha, and she came out, looking very beautiful with her best cloth and beads on, and all the people cheered, as they had never seen a finer woman. The boy then asked them, “Is this woman worthy of being the king’s wife?” And a shout went up from every one present that she would be a proper wife for the king, and looked as if she would be the mother of plenty of fine healthy sons.

Then the boy pointed out the jealous woman who was sitting next to the king, and told the people his story, how that his mother, who had two skins, was the spider’s daughter; how she had married the king, and how the head wife was jealous and had made a bad Ju Ju for the king, which made him forget his wife; how she had persuaded the king to throw himself and his sister into the river, which, as they all knew, had been done, but the Water Ju Ju had saved both of them, and had brought them up.

Then the boy said: “I leave the king and all of you people to judge my case. If I have done wrong, let me be killed on the stone by the Egbos; if, on the other hand, the woman has done evil, then let the Egbos deal with her as you may decide.”

When the king knew that the wrestler was his son he was very glad, and told the Egbos to take the jealous woman away, and punish her in accordance with their laws. The Egbos decided that the woman was a witch; so they took her into the forest and tied her up to a stake, and gave her two hundred lashes with a whip made from hippopotamus hide, and then burnt her alive, so that she should not make any more trouble, and her ashes were thrown into the river. The king then embraced his wife and daughter, and told all the people that she, Adiaha, was his proper wife, and would be the queen for the future.

When the palaver was over, Adiaha was dressed in fine clothes and beads, and carried back in state to the palace by the king’s servants.

That night the king gave a big feast to all his subjects, and told them how glad he was to get back his beautiful wife whom he had never known properly before, also his son who was stronger than all men, and his fine daughter. The feast continued for a hundred and sixty-six days; and the king made a law that if any woman was found out getting medicine against her husband, she should be killed at once. Then the king built three new compounds, and placed many slaves in them, both men and women. One compound he gave to his wife, another to his son, and the third he gave to his daughter. They all lived together quite happily for some years until the king died, when his son came to the throne and ruled in his stead.


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How a Hunter obtained Money from his Friends

Effiong, a once-prosperous Calabar hunter, borrows money from a friend and several animals but cannot repay them. He devises a plan, leaving his creditors to confront each other. A series of violent encounters ensues, leaving all the animal creditors dead. Effiong manipulates his human friend to cancel the debt and profits from selling a leopard skin. The tale warns against lending money to unreliable individuals.

Source
Folk Stories from Southern Nigeria
by Elphinstone Dayrell
Longmans, Green & Co.
London, New York, Bombay, Calcutta, 1910


► Themes of the story

Trickster: Effiong embodies the trickster archetype, using his wit and cunning to outsmart others for his benefit.

Revenge and Justice: The violent outcomes among the creditors can be interpreted as a form of poetic justice, where deceit leads to unintended retribution.

Conflict with Authority: Effiong’s actions challenge social norms and the expectations of trust and reciprocity within his community.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Nigerian peoples


Many years ago there was a Calabar hunter called Effiong, who lived in the bush, killed plenty of animals, and made much money. Every one in the country knew him, and one of his best friends was a man called Okun, who lived near him.

But Effiong was very extravagant, and spent much money in eating and drinking with every one, until at last he became quite poor, so he had to go out hunting again; but now his good luck seemed to have deserted him, for although he worked hard, and hunted day and night, he could not succeed in killing anything.

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One day, as he was very hungry, he went to his friend Okun and borrowed two hundred rods from him, and told him to come to his house on a certain day to get his money, and he told him to bring his gun, loaded, with him.

Now, some time before this Effiong had made friends with a leopard and a bush cat, whom he had met in the forest whilst on one of his hunting expeditions; and he had also made friends with a goat and a cock at a farm where he had stayed for the night. But though Effiong had borrowed the money from Okun, he could not think how he was to repay it on the day he had promised. At last, however, he thought of a plan, and on the next day he went to his friend the leopard, and asked him to lend him two hundred rods, promising to return the amount to him on the same day as he had promised to pay Okun; and he also told the leopard, that if he were absent when he came for his money, he could kill anything he saw in the house and eat it. The leopard was then to wait until the hunter arrived, when he would pay him the money; and to this the leopard agreed. The hunter then went to his friend the goat, and borrowed two hundred rods from him in the same way. Effiong also went to his friends the bush cat and the cock, and borrowed two hundred rods from each of them on the same conditions, and told each one of them that if he were absent when they arrived, they could kill and eat anything they found about the place.

When the appointed day arrived the hunter spread some corn on the ground, and then went away and left the house deserted. Very early in the morning, soon after he had begun to crow, the cock remembered what the hunter had told him, and walked over to the hunter’s house, but found no one there. On looking round, however, he saw some corn on the ground, and, being hungry, he commenced to eat. About this time the bush cat also arrived, and not finding the hunter at home, he, too, looked about, and very soon he espied the cock, who was busy picking up the grains of corn. So the bush cat went up very softly behind and pounced on the cock and killed him at once, and began to eat him. By this time the goat had come for his money; but not finding his friend, he walked about until he came upon the bush cat, who was so intent upon his meal off the cock, that he did not notice the goat approaching; and the goat, being in rather a bad temper at not getting his money, at once charged at the bush cat and knocked him over, butting him with his horns. This the bush cat did not like at all, so, as he was not big enough to fight the goat, he picked up the remains of the cock and ran off with it to the bush, and so lost his money, as he did not await the arrival of the hunter. The goat was thus left master of the situation and started bleating, and this noise attracted the attention of the leopard, who was on his way to receive payment from the hunter. As he got nearer the smell of goat became very strong, and being hungry, for he had not eaten anything for some time, he approached the goat very carefully. Not seeing any one about he stalked the goat and got nearer and nearer, until he was within springing distance. The goat, in the meantime, was grazing quietly, quite unsuspicious of any danger, as he was in his friend the hunter’s compound. Now and then he would say Ba!! But most of the time he was busy eating the young grass, and picking up the leaves which had fallen from a tree of which he was very fond. Suddenly the leopard sprang at the goat, and with one crunch at the neck brought him down. The goat was dead almost at once, and the leopard started on his meal.

It was now about eight o’clock in the morning, and Okun, the hunter’s friend, having had his early morning meal, went out with his gun to receive payment of the two hundred rods he had lent to the hunter. When he got close to the house he heard a crunching sound, and, being a hunter himself, he approached very cautiously, and looking over the fence saw the leopard only a few yards off busily engaged eating the goat. He took careful aim at the leopard and fired, whereupon the leopard rolled over dead. The death of the leopard meant that four of the hunter’s creditors were now disposed of, as the bush cat had killed the cock, the goat had driven the bush cat away (who thus forfeited his claim), and in his turn the goat had been killed by the leopard, who had just been slain by Okun. This meant a saving of eight hundred rods to Effiong; but he was not content with this, and directly he heard the report of the gun he ran out from where he had been hiding all the time, and found the leopard lying dead with Okun standing over it. Then in very strong language Effiong began to upbraid his friend, and asked him why he had killed his old friend the leopard, that nothing would satisfy him but that he should report the whole matter to the king, who would no doubt deal with him as he thought fit. When Effiong said this Okun was frightened, and begged him not to say anything more about the matter, as the king would be angry; but the hunter was obdurate, and refused to listen to him; and at last Okun said, “If you will allow the whole thing to drop and will say no more about it, I will make you a present of the two hundred rods you borrowed from me.” This was just what Effiong wanted, but still he did not give in at once; eventually, however, he agreed, and told Okun he might go, and that he would bury the body of his friend the leopard.

Directly Okun had gone, instead of burying the body Effiong dragged it inside the house and skinned it very carefully. The skin he put out to dry in the sun, and covered it with wood ash, and the body he ate. When the skin was well cured the hunter took it to a distant market, where he sold it for much money. And now, whenever a bush cat sees a cock he always kills it, and does so by right, as he takes the cock in part payment of the two hundred rods which the hunter never paid him.

MORAL.–Never lend money to people, because if they cannot pay they will try to kill you or get rid of you in some way, either by poison or by setting bad Ju Ju’s for you.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

The Tortoise with a Pretty Daughter

A powerful king’s son, Ekpenyon, rejects fifty wives chosen by his father. When he falls in love with Adet, the beautiful daughter of a wise tortoise, conflict arises due to a law sentencing such families to death. With the queen’s support, the prince defies the king. Adet’s beauty wins the king’s approval, leading to a joyous union, the law’s repeal, and the tortoise’s great fortune.

Source
Folk Stories from Southern Nigeria
by Elphinstone Dayrell
Longmans, Green & Co.
London, New York, Bombay, Calcutta, 1910


► Themes of the story

Forbidden Love: The prince falls in love with Adet, the tortoise’s daughter, despite a law prohibiting such unions.

Moral Lessons: The tale teaches that true love and beauty can transcend societal laws and prejudices.

Transformation through Love: The prince’s love for Adet leads to the repeal of unjust laws and the acceptance of previously marginalized individuals.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Nigerian peoples


There was once a king who was very powerful. He had great influence over the wild beasts and animals. Now the tortoise was looked upon as the wisest of all beasts and men. This king had a son named Ekpenyon, to whom he gave fifty young girls as wives, but the prince did not like any of them.

The king was very angry at this, and made a law that if any man had a daughter who was finer than the prince’s wives, and who found favour in his son’s eyes, the girl herself and her father and mother should be killed.

► Continue reading…

Now about this time the tortoise and his wife had a daughter who was very beautiful. The mother thought it was not safe to keep such a fine child, as the prince might fall in love with her, so she told her husband that her daughter ought to be killed and thrown away into the bush. The tortoise, however, was unwilling, and hid her until she was three years old. One day, when both the tortoise and his wife were away on their farm, the king’s son happened to be hunting near their house, and saw a bird perched on the top of the fence round the house. The bird was watching the little girl, and was so entranced with her beauty that he did not notice the prince coming. The prince shot the bird with his bow and arrow, and it dropped inside the fence, so the prince sent his servant to gather it. While the servant was looking for the bird he came across the little girl, and was so struck with her form, that he immediately returned to his master and told him what he had seen. The prince then broke down the fence and found the child, and fell in love with her at once. He stayed and talked with her for a long time, until at last she agreed to become his wife. He then went home, but concealed from his father the fact that he had fallen in love with the beautiful daughter of the tortoise.

But the next morning he sent for the treasurer, and got sixty pieces of cloth [a piece of cloth is generally about 8 yards long by 1 yard broad, and is valued at 5s] and three hundred rods, [a rod is made of brass, and is worth 3d. It is in the shape of a narrow croquet hoop, about 16 inches long and 6 inches across; a rod is native currency on the Cross River] and sent them to the tortoise. Then in the early afternoon he went down to the tortoise’s house, and told him that he wished to marry his daughter. The tortoise saw at once that what he had dreaded had come to pass, and that his life was in danger, so he told the prince that if the king knew, he would kill not only himself (the tortoise), but also his wife and daughter. The prince replied that he would be killed himself before he allowed the tortoise and his wife and daughter to be killed. Eventually, after much argument, the tortoise consented, and agreed to hand his daughter to the prince as his wife when she arrived at the proper age. Then the prince went home and told his mother what he had done. She was in great distress at the thought that she would lose her son, of whom she was very proud, as she knew that when the king heard of his son’s disobedience he would kill him. However, the queen, although she knew how angry her husband would be, wanted her son to marry the girl he had fallen in love with, so she went to the tortoise and gave him some money, clothes, yams, and palm-oil as further dowry on her son’s behalf in order that the tortoise should not give his daughter to another man. For the next five years the prince was constantly with the tortoise’s daughter, whose name was Adet, and when she was about to be put in the fatting house, the prince told his father that he was going to take Adet as his wife. [The fatting house is a room where a girl is kept for some weeks previous to her marriage. She is given plenty of food, and made as fat as possible, as fatness is looked upon as a great beauty by the Efik people.] On hearing this the king was very angry, and sent word all round his kingdom that all people should come on a certain day to the market-place to hear the palaver. When the appointed day arrived the market-place was quite full of people, and the stones belonging to the king and queen were placed in the middle of the market-place.

When the king and queen arrived all the people stood up and greeted them, and they then sat down on their stones. The king then told his attendants to bring the girl Adet before him. When she arrived the king was quite astonished at her beauty. He then told the people that he had sent for them to tell them that he was angry with his son for disobeying him and taking Adet as his wife without his knowledge, but that now he had seen her himself he had to acknowledge that she was very beautiful, and that his son had made a good choice. He would therefore forgive his son.

When the people saw the girl they agreed that she was very fine and quite worthy of being the prince’s wife, and begged the king to cancel the law he had made altogether, and the king agreed; and as the law had been made under the “Egbo” law, he sent for eight Egbos, and told them that the order was cancelled throughout his kingdom, and that for the future no one would be killed who had a daughter more beautiful than the prince’s wives, and gave the Egbos palm wine and money to remove the law, and sent them away. Then he declared that the tortoise’s daughter, Adet, should marry his son, and he made them marry the same day. A great feast was then given which lasted for fifty days, and the king killed five cows and gave all the people plenty of foo-foo [yams boiled and mashed up] and palm-oil chop, and placed a large number of pots of palm wine in the streets for the people to drink as they liked. The women brought a big play to the king’s compound, and there was singing and dancing kept up day and night during the whole time. The prince and his companions also played in the market square. When the feast was over the king gave half of his kingdom to the tortoise to rule over, and three hundred slaves to work on his farm. The prince also gave his father-in-law two hundred women and one hundred girls to work for him, so the tortoise became one of the richest men in the kingdom. The prince and his wife lived together for a good many years until the king died, when the prince ruled in his place. And all this shows that the tortoise is the wisest of all men and animals.

[The Egbo Society has many branches, extending from Calabar up the Cross River as far as the German Cameroons. Formerly this society used to levy blackmail to a certain extent and collect debts for people. The head Ju Ju, or fetish man, of each society is disguised, and frequently wears a hideous mask. There is a bell tied round his waist, hanging behind and concealed by feathers; this bell makes a noise as he runs. When the Egbo is out no women are allowed outside their houses, and even at the present time the women pretend to be very frightened. The Egbo very often carries a whip in his hand, and hits out blindly at any one he comes across. He runs round the town, followed by young men of his society beating drums and firing off guns. There is generally much drinking going on when the Egbo is playing. There is an Egbo House in most towns, the end part of which is screened off for the Egbo to change in. Inside the house are hung human skulls and the skulls of buffalo, or bush cow, as they are called; also heads of the various antelopes, crocodiles, apes, and other animals which have been killed by the members. The skulls of cows and goats killed by the society are also hung up. A fire is always kept in the Egbo House; and in the morning and late afternoon, the members of the society frequently meet there to drink gin and palm wine.]

MORAL.–Always have pretty daughters, as no matter how poor they may be, there is always the chance that the king’s son may fall in love with them, and they may thus become members of the royal house and obtain much wealth.


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Olofat – The Trickster God

One  of  the  most  important  myths  or  series  of  myths  in the  Carolines,  outside  of  the  more  strictly  cosmogonic tales,  is  that  describing  the  exploits  of  Olofat  or  Olifat,  the eldest  son  of  Luke-lang,  the  highest  deity.  In  the  version  from the  central  Carolines,  which  is  here  followed,  he  appears  as a mischievous,  almost  malicious,  person  who  stands  in  marked contrast  to  his  brother  or  brothers,  who  are  beneficent;  and it  is  interesting  to  compare  this  antithesis  of  malice  and  goodness with  Melanesian  types.

Source
The Mythology of All Races
Volume IX – Oceanic
by Roland B. Dixon
Marshall Jones Co., Boston, 1916


► Themes of the story

Trickster: Olofat embodies the archetypal trickster, engaging in mischievous and deceptive behaviors that disrupt the natural order.

Conflict with Authority: Olofat’s actions challenge the authority of his father, Luk, and the established order of the sky-world.

Good vs. Evil: The story contrasts Olofat’s malevolent deeds with the benevolent nature of his brother, highlighting the struggle between opposing moral forces.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Carolinian people


Olofat  saw  that  one  of  his  brothers  was  better  than  he  and also  more  beautiful,  and  at  this  he  became  angry.  Looking down  from  the  sky-world  and  seeing  two  boys  who  had  caught a couple  of  sharks,  with  which  they  were  playing  in  a fishpond, he  descended  to  earth  and  gave  the  sharks  teeth,  so that  they  bit  the  hands  of  the  children.  When  the  boys  ran home  crying  with  pain  and  told  their  troubles  to  their  mother, Ligoapup,  who  was  the  sister  of  Olofat,  she  asked  them  if they  had  not  seen  any  one  about,  whereupon  they  said  that they  had,  and  that  he  was  more  handsome  than  any  man  whom they  had  ever  beheld.

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Knowing  that  this  must  be  her  brother, Olofat,  Ligoapup  asked  her  sons  where  he  was,  and  they  answered, “Close  by  the  sea.”  She  then  told  them  to  go  and  get the  man  and  bring  him  to  her,  but  when  they  reached  the place  where  they  had  left  him,  they  found  only  an  old,  grey-haired man,  covered  with  dirt.  Returning  to  their  mother,  they informed  her  that  the  man  whom  they  had  seen  was  no  longer there;  but  she  bade  them  go  back  and  bring  whomsoever  they might  find.  Accordingly  they  set  off,  but  this  time  they  saw only  a heap  of  filth  in  place  of  a man;  and  so  once  more  they went  home  to  their  mother,  who  told  them  to  return  a third time.  Obeying  her,  they  questioned  the  filth,  saying,  “Are you  Olofat?  For  if  you  are,  you  must  come  to  our  mother”; whereupon  the  pile  of  filth  turned  into  a handsome  man  who accompanied  them  to  Ligoapup.  She  said  to  him,  “Why  are you  such  a deceiver?”  And  Olofat  replied,  “How  so?”  And she  said,  “First,  you  turned  yourself  into  a dirty  old  man, and  then  into  a pile  of  filth.”  “I  am  afraid  of  my  father,” answered  Olofat.  “Yes,”  said  Ligoapup,  “you  are  afraid because  you  gave  teeth  to  the  shark.”  Then  Olofat  replied, “I  am  angry  at  Luk,  for  he  created  my  brother  handsomer than  I am,  and  with  greater  power.  I shall  give  teeth  to  all sharks,  in  order  that  they  may  eat  men  whenever  canoes  tip over.”  When  Luk,  who  was  in  the  sky-world,  became  aware of  these  things,  he  said  to  his  wife,  “It  would  be  well  if  Olofat came  back  to  heaven,  since  he  is  only  doing  evil  on  earth”; and  his  wife,  Inoaeman,  said,  “I  think  so,  too.  Otherwise  he will  destroy  mankind,  for  he  is  an  evil  being.”

Accordingly  Luk  ordered  the  people  of  the  sky-world  to build  a great  house,  and  when  it  was  finished,  he  not  only  commanded that  a feast  be  announced,  but  also  had  a large  fish-basket  prepared,  in  which  they  placed  Olofat  and  sank  him in  the  sea.  After  five  nights,  when  they  thought  he  would  be dead,  two  men  went  in  a canoe  and  hauled  up  the  basket;  but behold!  it  contained  only  a multitude  of  great  fish,  for  Olofat had  slipped  away  and  seated  himself  in  a canoe  near  by. The  men  asked  him,  “Who  are  you?”  And  he  replied,  “I  am Olofat.  Come  here,  and  I will  help  you  to  put  the  fish  into your  boat.”  Taking  one  fish  after  the  other,  he  handed  them to  the  men,  but  in  so  doing  he  removed  all  the  flesh  of  the  fish and  gave  the  men  merely  the  empty  skins.  For  himself  he kept  nothing  but  the  smallest  ones;  and  when  the  people  said, “Why  is  it  that  you  take  only  the  little  fish?”  Olofat  replied.

“Give  Luk  all  the  big  ones;  I am  quite  satisfied  with  the  little ones.”  Then  the  people  brought  the  catch  to  Luk,  who  asked them,  “Where  is  the  fish-basket?  Who  took  the  fish  out?” When  they  replied,  “Olofat  did  that,  but  has  again  placed the  basket  in  the  sea,”  Luk  said,  “Has  he  then  taken  no  fish for  himself?”  to  which  they  answered,  “Only  the  very  smallest ones.”  Luk  now  ordered  all  sorts  of  food  to  be  prepared for  the  feast  and  commanded  that  the  fishes  should  be  cooked; and  when  all  were  gathered  in  the  house,  while  Olofat  sat  at the  entrance,  Luk  said,  “Let  every  one  now  eat.  Let  the  food be  divided,  and  let  each  receive  his  share.”  Nevertheless, Olofat  refused  to  receive  any;  and  when  the  guests  took  up the  fish,  lo!  there  were  only  the  empty  skins,  and  within  was nothing,  so  that  they  had  to  content  themselves  with  fruit.

Olofat,  however,  ate  his  own  fish;  but  Luk  said,  “See,  we have  nothing,  whereas  Olofat  is  able  to  eat  his  own  fish,  and  is still  not  finished  with  them.”  Thereupon  he  became  very  angry and  sent  word  to  Thunder  to  destroy  Olofat;  but  since  Thunder lived  in  a house  at  a distance,  Luk  said,  “Take  Thunder  some food.”  So  one  of  the  gods  took  some  of  the  viands  in  order  to carry  them,  but  Olofat,  snatching  them  from  him,  himself carried  them  to  Thunder;  and  on  arriving  at  the  house,  he called  out,  “O  Thunder,  I bring  food.”  Now  Thunder  had found  a white  hen,  and  coming  out,  he  thundered;  but  though Luk  cried,  “Kill  him,”  and  though  Thunder  blazed,  Olofat merely  placed  his  hand  before  his  eyes.  Nevertheless,  Thunder followed  him  and  thundered  again  and  again  behind  him;  but from  under  his  mantle  Olofat  took  some  coco-nut  milk  which he  had  brought  with  him,  and  sprinkling  it  upon  Thunder, he  quenched  the  lightning.  After  this  he  seized  Thunder  and bore  him  back  to  his  own  home;  and  when  Olofat  had  returned to  the  feast  house,  Luk  said,  “Why  has  the  man  not  been killed?”  Notwithstanding  this,  Olofat  again  took  his  place  by the  door,  while  Luk  now  ordered  another  of  the  gods  to  take food  to  Anulap.  Thereupon  Olofat  stood  up  and  walked  along behind  the  one  who  carried  the  food  and  he  took  the  viands away  from  him,  saying,  “ I myself  will  take  the  food  to Anulap.” So  he  went  to  the  god  and  said,  “Here  are  viands  for  you”; and  then  he  turned  about  and  came  back  to  the  great  assembly house,  whereupon  Luk  said  to  Anulap,  “Why  have  you not  killed  the  man?”  Then  Anulap  took  his  great  hook, which  was  fastened  to  a strong  rope,  and  throwing  it  at  Olofat,  he  caught  him  around  the  neck;  but  Olofat  quickly  seized a mussel-shell  and  cut  the  rope,  after  which  he  hastened  to the  house  of  Anulap,  where  he  sat  down  upon  the  threshold. When  Anulap  saw  him,  he  seized  his  club  to  strike  Olofat;  but as  he  stretched  it  out,  the  latter  changed  himself  into  a wooden mortar.  Thereupon  Anulap  called,  “Where  is  Olofat?”  and his  wife,  answering,  “He  must  have  run  away,”  they  lay  down and  slept.  After  all  this  Luk  said,  “We  can  do  nothing  with Olofat;  I believe  he  cannot  die.  Go,  O Laitian,  and  tell  the people  to  come  in  the  morning  to  make  a porch  for  the  house.” When  the  people  had  come  and  asked  how  they  should  construct the  porch,  Luk  said,  “Go  to  the  forest  and  bring  great tree-trunks”;  and  when  this  was  done,  and  the  tree-trunks were  laid  by  the  house,  Luk  commanded,  “Now,  go  and  fetch Olofat.”  Olofat  came  and  said,  “I  shall  go,  too”;  but  Luk replied,  “You  must  aid  us  to  build  the  porch.  You  must  make three  holes  in  the  ground,  two  shallow  and  one  deep;  and  in these  the  tree-trunks  must  be  set.”  Accordingly  Olofat  dug three  holes,  but  in  each  of  them  he  made  an  excavation  at one  side;  after  which  Luk  asked,  “Olofat,  are  you  ready  yet?” Thereupon  Olofat,  taking  a nut  and  a stone,  secreted  them  in his  girdle;  and  Luk  said,  “Now  set  the  tree-trunks  in  the  holes.” In  obedience  to  this,  three  men  seized  the  upper  end,  while Olofat  grasped  the  lower  part;  and  they  pushed  Olofat  so  that he  fell  into  the  hole,  only  to  creep  quickly  into  the  space  which he  had  made  on  the  side.  Not  knowing  this,  however,  they then  raised  the  tree-trunk  high,  and  dropping  it  into  the  hole, they  made  it  firm  with  earth  and  stone. All  now  believed  that  Olofat  had  been  caught  under  the great  post  and  had  been  crushed  to  death.  He,  however,  sat in  his  hole  on  the  side,  and  being  hungry  five  nights  later,  he cracked  the  nut  with  the  stone  which  he  had  brought  with him  and  ate  it;  whereupon  ants  came,  and  taking  the  fragments which  had  fallen  to  the  ground,  they  carried  the  food along  the  trunk  to  the  surface,  going  in  long  rows.  The  man who  sat  in  the  house  above,  seeing  this,  said  to  his  wife, “Olofat  is  dead,  for  the  ants  are  bringing  up  parts  of  his  body”; but  when  Olofat  heard  the  speech  of  the  man,  he  turned  himself into  an  ant  and  crept  with  the  others  up  the  post.  Having climbed  high,  he  allowed  himself  to  drop  upon  the  body  of  the man,  who  pushed  the  ant  off,  so  that  it  fell  to  the  ground, where  it  was  immediately  changed  into  Olofat.  As  soon  as  the people  saw  him,  they  sprang  up  in  fear,  and  Olofat  said,  “What are  you  talking  about. When  Luk  beheld  him,  he  said,  “We have  tried  in  every  possible  way  to  kill  you,  but  it  seems that  you  cannot  die.  Bring  me  Samenkoaner.”  After  Samenkoaner  had  come  and  sat  down,  Luk  asked  him,  “How  is  it that  Olofat  cannot  die.?  Can  you  kill  him.?”  To  this  Samenkoaner replied,  “No,  not  even  if  I thought  about  it  for  a whole night  long,  could  I find  a means;  for  he  is  older  than  I.” Thereupon  Luk  said,  “But  I do  not  wish  that  he  should  destroy all  men  upon  the  earth”;  and  so  the  Rat,  Luk’s  sister,  advised that  they  should  burn  Olofat.  Accordingly  they  made  a great fire,  to  which  they  brought  Olofat;  but  he  had  with  him  a roll  of  coco-nut  fibre,  and  when  Luk  ordered  them  to  throw him  into  the  flames,  he  crept  through  the  roll  and  came  out safely  upon  the  other  side  of  the  fire.  Then  Luk  said,  “Rat, we  have  tried  everything  to  kill  him,  but  in  vain”;  and  the Rat  answered,  “He  cannot  die;  so  make  him  the  lord  of  all who  are  evil  and  deceitful.”


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King Alexander’s Adventures

Alexander the Great, prophesied as a mighty conqueror, achieved legendary feats, including taming a rebellious horse, quelling uprisings, and dominating known lands by age 33. He treated the Jews with respect, heeding their counsel and granting religious freedoms. His ambitious exploits took him to mythical lands, encounters with Amazons, and the River of Life. Despite divine warnings, his hubris led to his death upon entering Babylon, sealing his legacy.

Source
Jewish Fairy Tales and Legends
by Gertrude Landa (“Aunt Naomi”)
Bloch Publishing Co., New York, 1919


► Themes of the story

Prophecy and Fate: Alexander’s life is influenced by prophecies predicting his future conquests and encounters.

Quest: His ambition to conquer the known world leads him on extensive military campaigns.

Conflict with Authority: Alexander challenges existing rulers and empires, asserting his dominance over established authorities.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Jewish mythology


I. THE VISION OF VICTORY

More than two thousand years ago there lived a king in the land of Macedon who was a great conqueror, and when his son, Alexander, was born, the soothsayers and the priestesses of the temples predicted that he would be a greater warrior than his father. Alexander was a wonderful boy, and his father, King Philip, was very proud of him when he tamed a spirited horse which nobody else could manage.

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The wisest philosophers of the day were Alexander’s teachers, and when he was only sixteen years of age, Philip left him in charge of the country when he went to subdue Byzantium. Alexander was only twenty when he ascended the throne, but before then he had suppressed a rebellion and had proved himself possessed of exceptional daring and courage.

“I shall conquer the whole world,” he said, and although he only reigned thirteen years and died at the age of thirty-three, he accomplished his ambition. All the countries which were then known had to acknowledge his supremacy.

King Alexander was a drunkard and very cruel, but he treated the Jews kindly. When they heard he had been victorious over Darius, king of Persia, who was their ruler, and that he was marching on Jerusalem, they became seriously alarmed. Jadua, the high priest, however, counseled the people to welcome Alexander with great ceremony.

All the priests and the Levites donned their most gorgeous robes, the populace put on their holiday garb, and the streets of the city were gaily decorated with many colored banners and garlands of flowers. The night before Alexander arrived at the head of his army, a long procession was formed of the priests, the Levites, and the elders of the city, each carrying a lighted torch. At the gates of the city they awaited the approach of the mighty warrior.

In the early morning, before the sun had risen, Alexander made his appearance and was astonished at the magnificent spectacle which met his gaze. At the head of the procession stood the high priest in his shining white robes, with the jewels of the ephod glittering on his breast. To the surprise of his generals, Alexander descended from his horse and bowed low before the high priest.

“Like unto an angel dost thou appear to me,” he said.

“Let thy coming bring peace,” replied Jadua.

Parmenio, the chief of Alexander’s generals, had promised the soldiers rich store of plunder in Jerusalem, and he approached the king and said:

“Wherefore do you honor this priest of the Jews above all men?”

“I will tell thee,” answered Alexander. “In dreams have I often seen this dignified priest. Ever he bade me be of good courage and always did he predict victory for me. Shall I not then pay homage to my guardian angel?”

Turning to the priest, he said, “Lead me to your Temple that I may offer up thanksgiving to the God of my guardian angel.”

It was now daylight, and the priests walked in procession before King Alexander past cheering multitudes of people. At the Temple the king removed his sandals, but the priests gave him a pair of jeweled slippers, fearing that he might slip on the pavement. The king was pleased with all that he saw and desired that a statue of himself, or a portrait, should be placed in the holy building.

“That may not be,” replied the high priest, “but in honor of thy visit all the boys born in Jerusalem this year shall be named Alexander.”

“It is well,” said the king, much pleased; “ask of me what you will, and if it be in my power I shall grant it.”

“Mighty monarch,” said Jadua, “we desire naught but to be permitted to serve our God according to our laws. Permit us to practice our religious observances free and unhindered. Grant also this privilege to the Jews who dwell in all thy dominions, and we shall ever pray for thy long life and triumph.”

“It is but little that ye ask,” replied the king, “and that little is easily granted.”

The people cheered loudly when they heard the good news, and many Jews enrolled themselves in the army.

Alexander stayed some time in Jerusalem, and messengers arrived from Canaan to ask him to compel the Jews to restore them their land.

“It is written in the Books of Moses,” they said, “that Canaan and its boundaries belong to the Canaanites.”

Gebiah, a hunchback, undertook to answer.

“It is also written in the Books of Moses,” he said, “‘Cursed be Canaan; a servant shall he be unto his brethren.’ The property of a slave belongs to his master, therefore Canaan is ours.”

Alexander gave the envoys of Canaan three days in which to reply to this, but they fled from Jerusalem.

Messengers from Egypt came next, asking for the return of the gold and silver taken by the Israelites from the land of Pharaoh.

“What says Gebiah to this?” asked Alexander.

“We shall return the gold and silver,” answered the hunchback, “when we have been paid for the many, many years of labor of our ancestors in Egypt.”

“Truly a wise answer,” said Alexander, and he gave the Egyptians three days to consider it. But they also fled.

When Alexander left Jerusalem he sought the advice of the wise men of Israel.

“I desire,” he said, “to conquer the land beyond the Mountains of Darkness in Africa; it is also my wish to fly above the clouds and behold the heavens, and also to descend into the depths of the sea and gaze with mine own eyes on the monsters of the deep.”

How to accomplish these things he was instructed by the wise men, but they warned him never to enter Babylon.

“For shouldst thou ever enter the city of Babylon,” they said, “thou wilt assuredly die.”

King Alexander thanked them for the advice and the warning, and set forth on his adventures.

II. THE LAND OF DARKNESS AND THE GATE OF PARADISE

After many days King Alexander came to the Mountains of Darkness. Acting on the advice of the wise men, he had provided himself with asses from the land of Libya, for they have the power of seeing in the dark, and also with a cord of great length. Mounted on the asses, he and his men plunged into the realms of darkness, unwinding the cord as they went, so that they might find their way back with it.

Around them was blackest darkness and a silence that inspired the men with awe. The asses, however, picked their way through the tall trees that grew so high and so thick that not the least ray of light could penetrate. How many days they traveled thus they knew not, for day and night were alike. The men slept when they were tired, ate when they were hungry and trusted to the asses and the cord.

At last when they emerged into the light they were almost blinded by the sun, and it was some time before they could see properly. Then, to their great astonishment, they found that there were no men in the land, only women, tall and finely proportioned, clothed in skins and armed with bows and arrows.

“Who are ye?” asked Alexander.

“We are the Amazons, women who are skilled in war and in the art of hunting,” they answered.

“Lead me to your queen,” commanded Alexander, “and bid her surrender, for I am Alexander, the Great, of Macedon, and conqueror of the world. I fight not by night, for I scorn to steal victories in the dark, and my men are armed with magic spears of gold and silver and are therefore invincible.”

The queen of the Amazons appeared before him, a beautiful woman, with long raven hair.

“Greeting to thee, mighty warrior,” she said. “Hast thou come to slay women?”

“Perchance it is you who will triumph over me,” replied Alexander.

The queen of the Amazons smiled.

“Then shall it be said of thee,” she replied, “that thou wert a valiant warrior who conquered the world, but was himself conquered by women. Is that to be your message to history?”

King Alexander was a man of learning and of wisdom, as well as a great soldier, but the words of the queen of the Amazons were such that he could not answer. He bowed low before the queen and with a gesture indicated that he had naught to say.

“Then it is to be peace,” said the queen. “At least, before thy return, let me prepare for thee a banquet.”

In a hut made of logs and decorated with skins, a rough wooden table was placed before Alexander and on it was laid a loaf of gold.

“Do ye eat bread of gold?” asked the king, much surprised.

“Nay,” replied the queen. “We are women of simple tastes, but thou art a mighty king. If thou didst but wish to eat ordinary bread in this land, why didst thou desire to conquer it? Is there no more bread in your own land that thou shouldst brave the dangers of the dark mountains to eat it here?”

Alexander bowed his head on his breast. Never before had he felt ashamed.

“I, Alexander of Macedon,” he said, “was a fool until I came to the land beyond the Mountains of Darkness and learned wisdom from women.”

With all haste he returned through the land of eternal night on his Libyan asses. But in the flight the cord was broken. He had to trust entirely to the asses, and many long and weary days and nights did he journey before he saw the light once more.

Alexander found himself in a new and beautiful land. There were no signs of human beings, nor of animals, and a river of the clearest water he had ever seen, flowed gently along. It was full of fish which the soldiers caught quite easily. But a strange thing happened when, after having cut up the fish ready for cooking, they took them to the river to clean them. All the fish came to life again; the pieces joined together and darted away in the water.

At first Alexander would not believe this, but after he had made an experiment himself, he said: “Let all who are wounded bathe in this river, for surely it will cure every ill. This must be the River of Life which flows from Paradise.”

He determined to follow the stream to its source and find the Garden of Eden. As he marched along, the valley through which the stream flowed, became narrower and narrower, until, at last, only one person could pass. Alexander continued his journey on foot with a few of his generals walking behind. Mountains, thickly covered with greenest verdure, towered up on either side, the silent river narrowed until it seemed a mere streak of silver flowing gently along, and there was a delicious odor in the air.

At length, where the mountains on either side met, Alexander’s path was barred by a great wall of rock. From a tiny fissure the River of Life trickled forth, and beside it was a door of gold, beautifully ornamented. Before this door Alexander paused. Then, drawing his sword, he struck the Gate of Paradise with the hilt.

There was no answer, and Alexander knocked a second time. Again there was no reply, and a third time Alexander knocked with some impatience.

Then the door slowly opened, and a figure in white stood in the entry. In its hand it held a skull, made of gold, with eyes of rubies.

“Who knocks so rudely at the Gate of Paradise?” asked the angel.

“I, Alexander, the Great, of Macedon, the conqueror of the world,” answered Alexander, proudly. “I demand admittance to Paradise.”

“Hast thou brought peace to the whole world that thou sayest thou art its conqueror?” demanded the angel.

Alexander made no answer.

“Only the righteous who bring peace to mankind may enter Paradise alive,” said the angel, gently.

Alexander hung his head abashed; then, in a voice broken with emotion, he begged that at least he should be given a memento of his visit.

The angel handed him the skull, saying: “Take this and ponder o’er its meaning.”

The angel vanished and the golden door closed.

The skull was so heavy that, with all his great strength, Alexander could scarcely carry it. When he placed it in a balance to ascertain its weight, he found that it was heavier than all his treasures. None of his wise men could explain this mystery and so Alexander sought out a Jew among his soldiers, one who had been a student with the rabbis.

Taking a handfull of earth the Jew placed it over the eyes and the skull was then as light as air.

“The meaning is plain,” said the Jew. “Not until the human eye is covered with earth–in the grave–is it satisfied. Not until after death can man hope to enter Paradise.”

Alexander was anxious to hasten away from that strange region, but many of his soldiers declared that they would settle down by the banks of the River of Life. Next morning, however, the river had vanished. Where all had been beautiful was now only a desolate plain, bounded by bare rocky mountains, reaching to the clouds.

With heavy hearts Alexander’s men began their march back.

III. THE WONDERS OF THE WORLD

One day a strange rumbling noise was heard, and toward evening the army halted by the side of a river even more mysterious than the River of Life. It was not a river of water, but of sand and stones. It flowed along with a roaring sound and every few minutes great stones were shot up into the air.

Alexander asked the Jewish soldier if he could explain.

“This,” said the Jew, “is the Sambatyon, the river which ceases to flow on the Sabbath.”

“And what lies beyond?”

“The land of the Lost Ten Tribes of Israel,” was the answer. “None have seen this country.”

“Cannot the river then be crossed?” asked Alexander.

“Not by all who wish to cross.”

The next day was Friday, and Alexander waited until the evening to see what would happen.

An hour before sunset, at the time of the commencement of Sabbath, the river ceased to flow. The rumbling died down and the Sambatyon appeared like a broad expanse of shining yellow sand.

“To-morrow I shall cross with my army,” said Alexander, but next morning the Sambatyon was enveloped in dense black clouds.

Alexander could not see a yard in front of him, and when he ventured on to the sand, the horses sank into it. Flames were also seen in the clouds. After the sun had set and the Sabbath had ended, the clouds cleared away, the rumbling began again and the sand flowed once more like a river.

Alexander was disappointed for a while, but at last he consoled himself with the thought that he had conquered the whole world.

“Now must I carry out my project of ascending above the clouds and afterward descending into the sea,” he said, and he proceeded to carry out the instructions given to him in Jerusalem.

Four huge eagles were caught and chained to a big box. At each end of the box was a pole, and on the end of each a brilliant jewel was placed. When all was in readiness, Alexander entered the box and carefully closed the doors.

“Thus did Nimrod ascend into the sky,” he said, “but he was a fool. He shot arrows into the air, and when the angels returned them stained with blood, he thought he had killed God. I desire only to see the heavens, not to conquer them.”

He gave the signal, and the heads of the eagles chained to the poles were uncovered. The moment they saw the dazzling jewels they tried to snatch them, but could not. So they continued to rise higher and higher until the box was carried above the clouds. By looking through the windows at the top and bottom of the box, Alexander could see how high he was. For a long time he saw nothing but clouds, which appeared like a vast sea beneath him, but when these cleared away, he saw the earth again.

So high was he that the world looked like a ball. Until then he had not known the earth was round. The seas enveloping the greater part of the globe looked like writhing serpents.

“Now I can understand,” he said, “why the wise rabbis say that the great fish, the leviathan, surrounds the world with its tail in its mouth.”

Then he looked above. The sun seemed further away than ever.

“Heaven is not so near as I thought,” he said, and seeing himself but a tiny speck miles above the earth and still further away from the heavens, he grew afraid for the first time in his life. With a stick he knocked the jewels from the poles outside the box, and the eagles, seeing them no longer, began to descend. Alexander breathed more freely when he was safe on the ground again, but he would not tell his generals what he had seen.

“Wait until I have descended into the sea,” he said.

Under his orders, a diving bell of clear thick glass, bound with iron, had been constructed. Alexander entered the bell, all the joints were then tightly secured with pitch, and the bell lowered from a ship into the ocean by means of chains.

Before he entered, Alexander took the precaution to put on a magic ring, which his wife, Roxana, had sent him. This, she said, would protect him against the monsters of the deep.

Down, down into the watery deep sank the bell, and for some time Alexander could see nothing. When his eyes grew accustomed to the strange, greenish light, he noticed multitudes of queer fish darting round about the bell. Many were of a shape never conjectured by man, some were so tiny that he could scarcely see them, and others so large that one of these monsters actually tried to swallow the bell. But Alexander showed the magic ring which glowed like a blazing star and the monster darted away.

So deep down sank the bell that no light could at last penetrate from the sun. Most of the fish, however, were luminous, and Alexander was almost dazzled by the changing of the brilliant lights as the denizens of the deep swam swiftly around the bell. Shells of wondrous beauty did he see, together with pearls of great size. The treasures of the deep were revealed to him, and he saw that the riches on land were as nothing compared with them. He saw the coral insects at their work of building, and of entrancing beauty growing in the oozy bed of the ocean.

“I wonder,” said Alexander, “if I dare venture forth and take some of these beautiful gems back with me. The ring will protect me.”

Alexander was one of the bravest men that ever lived, and he immediately set about trying to open the bell. In doing so, he rattled the chains by which it was lowered, and Robus, the officer in charge, took this as a signal to raise the bell.

In his excitement he dropped the chains into the sea, and they fell with a big crash on the bell and smashed it to pieces. When Robus saw what had happened, he cast himself into the sea in a gallant endeavor to rescue his master.

Down below in the glittering depths of the ocean, Alexander saw the fish hurrying away in great fear and he heard the rattling of the chains as they dropped through the water. He looked up and saw them crash on the bell. A terrible, buzzing sound filled his ears, a thousand dazzling colors danced before his eyes and made him giddy.

With great presence of mind he remembered his ring, and immediately a big fish swam underneath him, raised him from the wreckage of the bell and rose swiftly to the surface. Alexander emerged just as Robus dived into the sea. At once he showed the fish his ring and it dived and brought his gallant officer safe to his side.

“I have seen enough,” said Alexander, when he was safe on land, “more than mortals should see. I have learned that the earth is for man and that the air above and the waters beneath are for the other and more wonderful creatures of God.”

He made preparations to return to Macedon, but his army was wearied with long marching and begged of him to let them rest. Accordingly, he halted outside Babylon. Sickness seized him, but he remembered the warning of the rabbis and would not enter the city. For days he wandered around until his soldiers showed signs of mutiny. Then, throwing caution to the winds, Alexander entered Babylon.

At once his illness took a serious turn, and in a few days he died. When the Jews heard the news, they mourned him sincerely, for they knew that they had lost a good friend. All that remains as a memorial of Alexander is the city of Alexandria, which he founded in Egypt. It stands to this day.


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The Princess of the Tower

Princess Solima, a wise and compassionate royal, grew despondent from palace life and the frivolity of suitors unworthy of her values. Declaring she’d marry a man of humility and wisdom, her resolve led to confinement on a sea tower. There, a brave shepherd, carried by a giant bird, joined her. Through love and ingenuity, they escaped, returned to the kingdom, and united to rule with justice and empathy.

Source
Jewish Fairy Tales and Legends
by Gertrude Landa (“Aunt Naomi”)
Bloch Publishing Co., New York, 1919


► Themes of the story

Forbidden Love: The princess’s affection for the humble shepherd defies societal expectations and royal norms.

Conflict with Authority: Princess Solima’s rejection of unworthy suitors and her desire for a partner of humility and wisdom lead to her confinement by her father, King Zuliman.

Sacred Spaces: The sea tower serves as a significant location where the princess’s transformation occurs.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Jewish mythology


Princess Solima was sick, not exactly ill, but so much out of sorts that her father, King Zuliman, was both annoyed and perturbed. The princess was as beautiful as a princess of those days should be; her long tresses were like threads of gold, her blue eyes rivaled the color of the sky on the balmiest summer day; and her smile was as radiant as the sunshine itself. She was learned and clever, too, and her goodness of heart gained for her as great a renown as her peerless beauty. Despite all this, Princess Solima was not happy. Indeed, she was wretched to despondency, and her melancholy weighed heavily upon her father.

► Continue reading…

“What ails you, my precious daughter?” he asked her a hundred times, but she made no answer.

She just sat and silently moped. She did not waste away, which puzzled the physicians; she did not grow pale, which surprised her attendants; and she did not weep, which astonished herself. But she felt as if her heart had grown heavy, as if there was no use in anything.

The king squared his shoulders to show his determination and summoned his magicians and wizards and sorcerers and commanded them to perform their arts and solve the mystery of the illness of Princess Solima. A strange crew they were, ranged in a semi-circle before the king. There was the renowned astrologer from Egypt, a little man with a humpback; the mixer of mysterious potions from China, a long, lank yellow man, with tiny eyes; the alchemist from Arabia, a scowling man with his face almost concealed by whiskers; there was a Greek and a Persian and a Phoenician, each with some special knowledge and fearfully anxious to display it. They set to work.

One studied the stars, another concocted a sweet-smelling fluid, a third retired to the woods and thought deeply, a fourth made abstruse calculations with diagrams and figures, a fifth questioned the princess’ handmaidens, and a sixth conceived the brilliant notion of talking with the princess herself. He was certainly an original wizard, and he learned more than all the others.

Then they met in consultation and talked foreign languages and pretended very seriously to understand one another. One said the stars were in opposition, another said he had gazed into a crystal and had seen a glow-worm chasing a hippopotamus which a third interpreted as meaning the princess would die if the glow-worm won the race.

“Rubbish!” exclaimed the magician who had spoken to the princess; “likewise stuff and nonsense and the equivalent thereof in the seventy unknown languages.”

That was an impertinent comment on their divinations, and so they listened seriously.

“The princess,” he said, “is just tired. That is a disease which will become popular and fashionable as the world grows older and more people amass riches. She is sick of being waited on hand and foot and bowed down to and all that sort of thing. She has never been allowed to romp as a child, to choose her own companions and the rest of it. Therefore, she is bored with all the etcetras. The case is comprehensible and comprehensive: it needs the exercise of imagination stimulated by prescience, conscience, patience….”

The others yawned and began to collect dictionaries, and fearing that they might be tempted to fling them at him after they had found the meaning of his big words, he ceased.

“I agree,” said the president of the assembly, the oldest wizard, “only I diagnose the disease in simpler form. The princess is in love.”

That set them all jabbering together, and they finally agreed to report to the king that the time had arrived when the princess should marry, so that she should be able to go away to a new land, amid other people and different scenes.

The king agreed reluctantly, for he dearly loved his daughter and wished her to remain with him always if possible. Heralds and messengers were sent out far and wide, and very soon a procession of suitors for the princess’ hand began to file past the lady. They were princes of all shapes and sizes, of all complexions and colors; some were resplendent with jewels, others were followed by retinues of slaves bearing gifts; a few entered the competition by proxy–that is, they sent somebody else to see the lady first and pronounce judgment upon her. These she dismissed summarily, declaring that they were disqualified by the rules of fair play.

When all the entrants had been inspected by the king, he said to his daughter:

“Pick the one you love the best, Solima dear.”

“None,” she answered promptly.

“Dear, dear me–that is very awkward. We shall have to return the entrance fees–I mean the presents,” he said.

That prospect did not seem to worry the princess in the least; nor did her father’s appeal not to belittle him in the eyes of his fellow monarchs have the slightest effect on her.

“At least,” he said, growing impatient, “tell me what you do want.”

“I will marry any man,” she replied, while he wondered gravely what else she could have said, “who is not such a fool as to think himself the only person in the world who is of consequence.”

The king was not without wisdom, and he knew that this remark is foolish, or sensible, according to the mood in which it is said, and the thoughts behind it.

“You do not regard any one of the princes,” the king said gently, “as worthy of—-“

“Any woman,” interrupted his daughter. “Listen, my father, you have tried to make me happy always and until recently you have succeeded. I wish to obey you in all things, even in the choice of a husband. Would you really have me marry any one of these fools? Be not angry. Did any one reveal a gleam of wisdom, or common-sense? Were they not all just ridiculous fops? Let me enumerate:

“There was Prince Hafiz who talked only of his wars–of the men–aye and women and children–his soldiers had butchered. The soldiers fought and Prince Hafiz posed before me as a warrior and hero. I will not be queen in a land where people cannot live in peace.

“Then there was Prince Aziz who boasted that he spends all his life with his horses and dogs and falcons in the hunting field. He knows the needs of beasts, but not of men. I will not be the bride of a prince who allows his subjects to starve in wretchedness and poverty while he enjoys himself with the slaughter of wild beasts.

“Prince Guzman had nothing else to impart to me but his taste in jewels and dress. Prince Abdul knew exactly how many bottles of wine he drank daily, but he could not tell me how many schools there were in his city. Prince Hassan had not the slightest notion how the majority of his people lived, whether by trading, or thieving, or working, or begging.”

King Zuliman listened intently. This was a singular speech for a princess, but reason told him this was profoundest wisdom.

“Oh, I am tired,” burst out Princess Solima, in tears. “I have no desire for life if to be a ruler over men and women and children means that you must take no interest in their welfare. My father, hearken. I will not be queen in a land where the king thinks the people live only to make him great. I shall be proud and happy to reign where the king understands that it is his duty to make his people happy and his country prosperous and peaceful.”

The king left his daughter, and, deeply concerned, sought his wizards.

“My daughter has been born thousands of years before her time,” he declared, petulantly. “The stars have played a trick on me, and have sent me my great-great-great-great ever so much great granddaughter out of her turn.”

The magicians did not laugh at this: they thought it a wonderfully sage remark, and after much mysterious whispering among themselves and consultation of old books, and gazing into crystals, they informed the king that the stars foretold that Princess Solima would marry a poor man!

They flattered themselves on their cleverness in arriving at this conclusion, which they deduced from the princess contempt for princes.

King Zuliman’s patience was exhausted by this time. In a towering rage, he told his daughter what the wizards had said, and when she merely said, “How nice,” he swore he would imprison her in his fortress in the sea.

His majesty meant it, too, and at once had the fortress, which stood on a tiny island miles from land, luxuriously furnished and fitted up for his daughter’s reception. Thither she was conveyed secretly one night, but to her father’s disgust she made no protest.

“I shall be free for a while,” she said, “of all the absurd flummery of the palace.”

II.

The people were sad when the princess disappeared. She had been good and kind to them, had understood them, and they did not know whether she had died, or had deserted them without a word of farewell, though that was hardly possible. All that they knew was that the king suddenly became morose and sullen. Strangely enough, he began to take an interest in the poor. He asked them funny questions–for a king. How did they earn money? What was their occupation? Had they any pleasures? And what were their thoughts?

Young people laughed, but old men said the king intended to promote laws which would do good. Anyway, the king’s interest did make his subjects happier, and the officers of state became very busy with projects and schemes for improving trade, providing work and for educating children.

“They do say,” remarked one old woman, who kept an apple stall in the market place, “that a law will be passed that the sun should shine every day, and that it should never rain on the days of the market. Ah! that will be good,” and she rubbed her hands at the prospect of not having to crouch under a leaky awning when the rain came pelting down, or over a tiny fire in a brass bowl in the winter, to thaw her frozen and benumbed hands.

Even the laborers in the fields, who were mainly dull-witted people with no learning whatsoever, heard the news; and they actually pondered over it and wondered whether it meant that they would never more be hungry and wretchedly clad.

One who thought deeply was a shepherd lad. He loved to bask lazily in the sun, to listen to the birds chirruping, and to all the sounds of the air and the fields and the forests. He seemed to understand them; the murmuring of the brooks on a warm day was like a gentle cradle song lulling him to sleep; on a day when the wind howled, its sulky growl as it dashed over the stones warned him that floods might come, and that he must move his flocks to safer ground.

“I wonder,” he mused, “if I shall learn to read the written word and even to pen it myself. I could then write the song of the brook and the birds, so that others should know it.”

And musing thus, he fell asleep. He slept longer than usual, and when he awoke, he was alarmed to see that the sun had set. Darkness was falling fast, and he had his flock to see safely home. The cows and sheep had begun to collect themselves as a matter of habit, and it was their noise that woke him. They were already trudging the well-known route, and all he had to do in following was to see that none strayed, or tumbled into the brook.

All went well until he came in sight of home. Then a huge bird, a ziz, bigger than several houses, appeared in the sky and swooped down on the cows and sheep.

The shepherd beat the monster off as long as he could with a big stick, while the affrighted animals scampered hastily homeward. The ziz however, was evidently determined not to be balked of its prey. It dug its talons deep into the flanks of an ox that had stampeded in the wrong direction and was lagging behind the others.

The poor animal bellowed in pain, and the shepherd, rushing to the rescue, seized it by the forelegs as it was being raised from the ground. Curling his leg round the slender trunk of a tree, the young man began a struggle with the ziz. The mighty bird, its eyes glowing like two signal lamps, tried to strike at him with his tremendous beak, one stroke of which would have been fatal.

In the fast gathering darkness it missed, fortunately for the shepherd, but the thrust of the beak caught the upper part of the tree trunk. It snapped under the blow, and the shepherd was compelled to release his hold. He still gripped tightly the forelegs of the ox, but with naught now to hold it back, the great bird had no difficulty in rising into the air. Before he fully grasped what had happened, the shepherd found himself high above the trees.

To release his hold would have meant destruction. He held on grimly, clutching the legs of the ox with all his might, and even swinging up his feet to grip the hind-legs of the animal.

Higher and higher the ziz rose into the air, spreading its vast wings majestically, and flying silently and swiftly over the land. It made the shepherd giddy to glance down at the ground scurrying rapidly past far below him. So he closed his eyes, but opening them again for a moment, he was horrified to notice that the bird was now flying over the sea on which the moon was shining with silvery radiance. With a heavy sigh he gave himself up for lost, and began to consider whether it would be better to release his hold and fall down and be drowned, rather than be devoured by the gigantic bird.

Before he could make up his mind, the bird stopped, and the shepherd was bumped down on something with such violence that for a moment he was stunned. Looking around, when he regained his senses, he saw that he was on the top of a tower in the sea. Beside him was the carcass of the ox. Above them stood the ziz, its eyes glowing like twin fires, its beak thrust down to strike.

With a quick movement, the shepherd drew a knife which he carried in his girdle, and struck at the opening of the descending beak. The bird uttered a shrill cry of pain as the knife pierced its tongue, and in a few moments it had disappeared in the air. So swift was its flight that almost instantly it was a mere speck in the moonlit sky.

Thoroughly exhausted, the shepherd slept until awakened by the sound of a voice. Opening his eyes, he saw that the sun had risen. Above him stood a woman of ravishing beauty. He sprang to his feet and bowed low.

“Who are you?” asked Princess Solima, for she it was. “And tell me how came you here with this carcass of an ox, so distant from the land, so high up as this tower in the sea?”

“Of a truth I scarcely know,” answered the shepherd. “It may be that I am bewitched, or dreaming, for my adventure passes all belief,” and he related it.

The princess made no comment, but motioned to him that he should follow her. He did so and she placed food before him. He was ravenously hungry and did full justice to the meal. Then she led him to the bath chamber.

“Wash and robe thyself,” she said, giving him some clothes, “and then I have much to inquire of thee.”

The shepherd felt ever so much better when he had bathed, and then attired in the strange garments she had given him, he appeared before the princess.

She gazed at him so long and searchingly that he blushed in confusion.

“Thou art fair to look upon and of manly stature,” said the princess.

The shepherd could only stammer a reply, but after a while he said, “Fair lady, who and what thou art I know not. Such beauty as thine is the right of princesses only. I am but a poor shepherd.”

“And may not a shepherd be handsome?” she asked. “Tell me: who hath laid down a law that only royal personages may be fair to behold? I have seen princes of vile countenance.”

She stopped suddenly, for she did not wish to betray her secret. They sat in a little room in the tower, unknown to the many guards down below, and, although the shepherd protested, the princess waited on him herself, bringing him food, and cushions on which he could rest that night.

Next morning they ascended the tower together.

“I come here every morning,” said the princess.

“Why?” the shepherd asked.

“To see if my husband cometh,” was the answer.

“Who is he?” asked the shepherd.

The princess laughed.

“I know not,” she said. “Some mornings when I have stood here and grieved at my loneliness, I have felt inclined to make a vow that I would marry the first man who came hither.”

The shepherd was silent. Then he looked boldly into the princess’ eyes and said: “Thou hast told me I am the first man who has come to thee. I am emboldened to declare my love for thee, a feeling that swept over me the moment my eyes beheld thee. Who thou art, what thou art, I know not, I care not. Shall we be husband and wife?”

The princess gave him her hand.

“It is ordained,” she said, and thus their troth was plighted.

“We cannot remain here forever,” said the princess, presently. “Canst thou, husband of my heart’s choice, devise some means of escape?”

He looked down at the carcass of the ox thoughtfully for a few moments.

“I have it,” he exclaimed, excitedly. “It is a safe assumption that the monster bird that brought me will return for his meal. He can then carry us away. If the heavens approve,” he said, fervently, “thus it shall be.”

That very night the ziz returned and feasted on the ox, and while it was fully occupied appeasing its hunger, the shepherd managed to attach strong ropes to its legs. To this he attached a large basket in which he and his bride made themselves comfortable with cushions. Nor did they forget to take a store of food.

Toward morning the ziz rose slowly into the air, and the lovers clutched each other tightly as the basket spun round and round. The giant bird did not seem to notice its burden at all, and after a moment it began a swift flight over the sea. After many hours a city became visible, and as it was approached the shepherd could note the excitement caused by the appearance of the ziz. The bird was getting tired, and having at last noticed the weight tied to its feet was evidently seeking to get rid of it.

Flying low it dashed the basket against a tower. The occupants feared they might be killed, but suddenly the cords snapped, the basket rested on the parapet of the tower, and the bird flew swiftly away.

No sooner had the shepherd extricated himself and his bride from the basket, than armed guards appeared. At sight of the princess they lowered their weapons and fell upon their faces.

“Inform my father I have returned,” she said, and they immediately rose to do her bidding.

“Know you where you are?” asked the shepherd.

“Yes; this is the king’s palace,” was the reply.

Soon the king appeared, and with almost hysterical joy he embraced his daughter.

“I am happy to see thee again,” he cried. “I crave thy pardon for immuring thee in the sea fortress. Thou shalt tell me all thy adventures.”

Then he caught sight of the shepherd.

“Who is this?” he demanded.

“Thy son-in-law, my husband,” said the princess, her joy showing in her bright eyes.

“What prince art thou?” asked the king.

“A prince among men,” answered the princess quickly. “A man without riches, who comes from the people and will teach us their needs and how to rule them.”

The king bowed to the inevitable. He blessed his son-in-law and daughter, appointed them to rule over a province, and they settled down to make everybody thoroughly happy, contented and prosperous.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page