The Soufi and the Targui

This story of betrayal and revenge among the Souafa and Touareg revolves around a young married woman who elopes with a suitor, leading her husband on a relentless pursuit. She betrays both men, inciting a deadly confrontation. Ultimately, her actions result in her gruesome demise, symbolizing the harsh justice of the desert tribes. The tale highlights loyalty, deception, and the consequences of treachery.

Source
Moorish Literature
   romantic ballads, tales of the Berbers,
   stories of the Kabyles, folk-lore,
   and national traditions
The Colonial Press,
   London, New York, 1901

► Themes of the story

Love and Betrayal: The woman’s infidelity and deceit towards her husband and suitor drive the narrative.

Revenge and Justice: The husband’s pursuit and the eventual punishment of the woman highlight the pursuit of retribution and the restoration of honor.

Moral Lessons: The tale imparts lessons on the repercussions of betrayal and the importance of honor within the community.

► From the same Region or People

North Africa
- Berber Lore

Learn more about the Berber peoples

Translated by G. Mercier
and Chauncey C. Starkweather

Two Souafa were brothers. Separating one day one said to the other: “O my brother, let us marry thy son with my daughter.” So the young cousins were married, and the young man’s father gave them a separate house. It happened that a man among the Touareg heard tell of her as a remarkable woman. He mounted his swiftest camel, ten years old, and went to her house. Arrived near her residence, he found some shepherds.

“Who are you?” he said. – “We are Souafa.”

He confided in one of them, and said to him: “By the face of the Master of the worlds, O favorite of fair women, man of remarkable appearance, tell me if the lady so and so, daughter of so and so, is here.”

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“She is here.”

“Well, if you have the sentiments of most men, I desire you to bring her here, I want to see her.”

“I will do what you ask. If she’ll come, I’ll bring her. If not, I will return and tell you.”

He set out, and, arriving at the house of the lady, he saw some people, and said “Good-evening” to them.

“Come dine with us,” they said to him.

“I have but just now eaten and am not hungry.” He pretended to amuse himself with them to shorten the night, in reality to put to sleep their vigilance. These people went away to amuse themselves while he met the lady.

“A man sends me to you,” he said, “a Targui, who wants to marry you. He is as handsome as you are, his eyes are fine, his nose is fine, his mouth is fine.”

“Well, I will marry him.” She went to him and married him, and they set out on a camel together. When the first husband returned, he found that she had gone. He said to himself: “She is at my father’s or perhaps my uncle’s.” When day dawned he said to his sister, “Go see if she is in thy father’s house or thy uncle’s.” She went, and did not find her there. He went out to look for her, and perceived the camel’s traces. Then he saddled his own camel.

The women came out and said: “Stay! Do not go; we will give thee our own daughters to marry.”

“No,” he replied, “I want to find my wife.” He goes out, he follows the tracks of the camel, here, here, here, until the sun goes down. He spends the night upon the trail. His camel is a runner of five years. When the sun rises he starts and follows the trail again.

About four o’clock he arrives at an encampment of the Touareg, and finds some shepherds with their flocks. He confides in one of these men, and says to him: “A word, brave man, brother of beautiful women, I would say a word to thee which thou wilt not repeat.”

“Speak.”

“Did a woman arrive at this place night before last?”

“She did.”

“Hast thou the sentiments of a man of heart?”

“Truly.”

“I desire to talk to her.”

“I will take thee to her. Go, hide thy camel; tie him up. Change thy clothing. Thou wilt not then be recognized among the sheep. Bring thy sabre and come. Thou shalt walk as the sheep walk.”

“I will walk toward you, taking the appearance of a sheep, so as not to be perceived.”

“The wedding-festival is set for to-night, and everybody will be out of their houses. When I arrive at the tent of this lady I will strike a stake with my stick. Where I shall strike, that is where she lives.”

He waits and conceals himself among the flocks, and the women come out to milk. He looks among the groups of tents. He finds his wife and bids her come with him.

“I will not go with thee, but if thou art hungry, I will give thee food.”

“Thou’lt come with me or I will kill thee!”

She goes with him. He finds his camel, unfastens him, dons his ordinary clothing, takes his wife upon the camel’s back with him, and departs. The day dawns. She says:

“O thou who art the son of my paternal uncle, I am thirsty.” Now she planned a treachery.

He said to her: “Is there any water here?”

“The day the Targui took me off we found some in that pass.” They arrived at the well.

“Go down into the well,” said the Soufi.

“I’m only a woman. I’m afraid. Go down thyself.” He goes down. He draws the water. She drinks. He draws more water for the camel, which is drinking, when she pours the water on the ground.

“Why dost thou turn out the water?”

“I did not turn it out; thy camel drank it.” And nevertheless she casts her glances and sees a dust in the distance. The Targui is coming. The woman says:

“Now I have trapped him for thee.”

“Brava!” he cries, and addressing the Soufi: “Draw me some water that I may drink.” He draws the water, and the Targui drinks. The woman says to him: “Kill him in the well. He is a good shot. Thou art not stronger than he is.”

“No,” he answered, “I do not want to soil a well of the tribes. I’ll make him come up.” The Soufi comes up till his shoulders appear. They seize him, hoist and bind him, and tie his feet together. Then they seize and kill his camel.

“Bring wood,” says the Targui to the woman; “we’ll roast some meat.” She brings him some wood. He cooked the meat and ate it, while she roasted pieces of fat till they dripped upon her cousin.

“Don’t do that,” says the Targui.

She says, “He drew his sword on me, crying, ‘Come with me or I will kill thee.'”

“In that case do as you like.” She dropped the grease upon his breast, face, and neck until his skin was burnt. While she was doing this, the Targui felt sleep coming upon him, and said to the woman, “Watch over him, lest he should slip out of our hands.”

While he slept the Soufi speaks: “Word of goodness, O excellent woman, bend over me that I may kiss thy mouth or else thy cheek.” She says: “God make thy tent empty. Thou’lt die soon, and thou thinkest of kisses?”

“Truly I am going to die, and I die for thee. I love thee more than the whole world. Let me kiss thee once. I’ll have a moment of joy, and then I’ll die.” She bends over him, and he kisses her.

She says, “What dost thou want?”

“That thou shalt untie me.” She unties him. He says to her: “Keep silent. Do not speak a word.” Then he unfastens the shackles that bind his feet, puts on his cloak, takes his gun, draws out the old charge and loads it anew, examines the flint-lock and sees that it works well. Then he says to the woman, “Lift up the Targui.” The latter awakes.

“Why,” says he, “didst thou not kill me in my sleep?”

“Because thou didst not kill me when I was in the well. Get up. Stand down there, while I stand here.”

The Targui obeys, and says to the Soufi: “Fire first.”

“No, I’ll let thee fire first.”

The woman speaks: “Strike, strike, O Targui, thou art not as strong as the Soufi.”

The Targui rises, fires, and now the woman gives voice to a long “you–you.” It strikes the chechias that fly above his head. At his turn the Soufi prepares himself and says:

“Stand up straight now, as I did for thee.” He fires, and hits him on the forehead. His enemy dead, he flies at him and cuts his throat.

He then goes to the camel, cuts some meat, and says to the woman: “Go, find me some wood, I want to cook and eat.”

“I will not go,” she says. He approaches, threatening her, and strikes her. She gets up then and brings him some wood. He cooks the meat and eats his fill. He thinks then of killing the woman, but he fears that the people of his tribe will say, “Thou didst not bring her back.” So he takes her on the camel and starts homeward. His cousins are pasturing their flocks on a hill. When he had nearly arrived a dust arose. He draws near, and they see that it is he. His brother speaks, “What have they done to thee?”

He answers, “The daughter of my uncle did all this.”

Then they killed the woman and cut her flesh in strips and threw it on a jujube-tree. And the jackals and birds of prey came and passed the whole day eating it, until there was none left.

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The False Vezir

A king’s wife, on a journey with the vezir, faces his betrayal as he demands marriage, killing her sons upon her refusal. Praying to God, she transforms into a bird and escapes to a city, becoming its ruler in disguise. The king, searching for her, reunites with her. She reveals the vezir’s treachery, leading to his execution, and requests her freedom.

Source
Moorish Literature
   romantic ballads, tales of the Berbers,
   stories of the Kabyles, folk-lore,
   and national traditions
The Colonial Press,
   London, New York, 1901

► Themes of the story

Good vs. Evil: The narrative centers on the struggle between the virtuous queen and the treacherous vezir, highlighting the classic conflict between righteousness and malevolence.

Revenge and Justice: The story culminates in the revelation of the vezir’s betrayal and his subsequent execution, serving as retribution for his misdeeds.

Trials and Tribulations: The queen endures significant hardships, including the loss of her sons and the vezir’s advances, before ultimately overcoming these challenges.

► From the same Region or People

North Africa
- Berber Lore

Learn more about the Berber peoples

Translated by G. Mercier
and Chauncey C. Starkweather

A king had a wife who said to him: “I would like to go and visit my father.”

“Very well,” said he; “wait to-day, and to-morrow thou shalt go with my vezir.” The next day they set out, taking the children with them, and an escort lest they should be attacked on the way. They stopped at sunset, and passed the night on the road. The vezir said to the guards, “Watch that we be not taken, if the robbers should come to seize us.” They guarded the tent. The vezir asked the King’s wife to marry him, and killed one of her sons because she refused. The next day they set out again. The next night he again asked the King’s wife to marry him, threatening to kill a second child should she refuse. She did refuse, so he killed the second son.

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The next morning they set out, and when they stopped at night again he asked the King’s wife to marry him.

“I’ll kill you if you refuse.”

She asked for delay, time to say her prayers. She prayed to God, the Master of all worlds, and said: “O God, save me from the vezir.” The Master of the worlds heard her prayer. He gave her the wings of a bird, and she flew up in the sky.

At dawn she alighted in a great city, and met a man upon the roadside. She said: “By the face of God, give me your raiment and I’ll give thee mine.”

“Take it, and may God honor you,” he said. Then she was handsome. This city had no king. The members of the council said:

“This creature is handsome; we’ll make him our king.” The cannon spoke in his honor and the drums beat.

When she flew up into the sky, the vezir said to the guards: “You will be my witnesses that she has gone to the sky, so that when I shall see the King he cannot say, ‘Where is she?'” But when the vezir told this story, the King said:

“I shall go to seek my wife. Thou hast lied. Thou shalt accompany me.” They set out, and went from village to village. They inquired, and said: “Has a woman been found here recently? We have lost her.” And the village people said, “We have not found her.” They went then to another village and inquired. At this village the Sultan’s wife recognized them, called her servant, and said to him, “Go, bring to me this man.” She said to the King, “From what motive hast thou come hither?”

He said, “I have lost my wife.”

She answered: “Stay here, and pass the night. We will give thee a dinner and will question thee.”

When the sun had set she said to the servant, “Go, bring the dinner, that the guests may eat.” When they had eaten she said to the King, “Tell me your story.”

He answered: “My story is long. My wife went away in the company of a trusted vezir. He returned and said: ‘By God, your wife has gone to heaven.’

“I replied: ‘No, you have lied. I’ll go and look for her.'”

She said to him, “I am your wife.”

“How came you here?” he asked.

She replied: “After having started, your vezir came to me and asked me to marry him or he would kill my son, ‘Kill him,’ I said, and he killed them both.”

Addressing the vezir, she said: “And your story? Let us hear it.”

“I will return in a moment,” said the vezir, for he feared her. But the King cut off his head. The next day he assembled the council of the village, and his wife said, “Forgive me and let me go, for I am a woman.”

The Kites and the Crows

Koongooroo, sultan of the crows, sought to subjugate Mwayway, sultan of the kites. After a failed battle, Koongooroo feigned loyalty to infiltrate the kites’ town. Exploiting their trust, he coordinated a fiery attack on their church during a festival, killing many, including Mwayway. Victorious, the crows reclaimed their town, and kites have avoided crows ever since, a symbolic testament to their cunning triumph.

Source
Zanzibar Tales
told by natives of the East Coast of Africa
translated from the original Swahili
by George W. Bateman
A.C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1901

► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The crows, led by their sultan Koongooroo, employ deceit to infiltrate and overcome the kites.

Revenge and Justice: The crows seek retribution against the kites for taking over their town, ultimately reclaiming it through their cunning plan.

War and Peace: The story revolves around the battle and subsequent strategies employed by both the crows and the kites, highlighting themes of conflict and resolution.

► From the same Region or People

East Africa
- Swahili Lore

Learn more about Swahili people

One day Koongoo’roo, sultan of the crows, sent a letter to Mway’way, sultan of the kites, containing these few words: “I want you folks to be my soldiers.” To this brief message Mwayway at once wrote this short reply: “I should say not.”

Thereupon, thinking to scare Mwayway, the sultan of the crows sent him word, “If you refuse to obey me I’ll make war upon you.”

To which the sultan of the kites replied, “That suits me; let us fight, and if you beat us we will obey you, but if we are victors you shall be our servants.”

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So they gathered their forces and engaged in a great battle, and in a little while it became evident that the crows were being badly beaten.

As it appeared certain that, if something were not done pretty quickly, they would all be killed, one old crow, named Jeeoo’see, suddenly proposed that they should fly away.

Directly the suggestion was made it was acted upon, and the crows left their homes and flew far away, where they set up another town. So, when the kites entered the place, they found no one there, and they took up their residence in Crowtown.

One day, when the crows had gathered in council, Koongooroo stood up and said: “My people, do as I command you, and all will be well. Pluck out some of my feathers and throw me into the town of the kites; then come back and stay here until you hear from me.”

Without argument or questioning the crows obeyed their sultan’s command.

Koongooroo had lain in the street but a short time, when some passing kites saw him and inquired threateningly, “What are you doing here in our town?”

With many a moan he replied, “My companions have beaten me and turned me out of their town because I advised them to obey Mwayway, sultan of the kites.”

When they heard this they picked him up and took him before the sultan, to whom they said, “We found this fellow lying in the street, and he attributes his involuntary presence in our town to so singular a circumstance that we thought you should hear his story.”

Koongooroo was then bidden to repeat his statement, which he did, adding the remark that, much as he had suffered, he still held to his opinion that Mwayway was his rightful sultan.

This, of course, made a very favorable impression, and the sultan said, “You have more sense than all the rest of your tribe put together; I guess you can stay here and live with us.”

So Koongooroo, expressing much gratitude, settled down, apparently, to spend the remainder of his life with the kites.

One day his neighbors took him to church with them, and when they returned home they asked him, “Who have the best kind of religion, the kites or the crows?”

To which crafty old Koongooroo replied, with great enthusiasm, “Oh, the kites, by long odds!”

This answer tickled the kites like anything, and Koongooroo was looked upon as a bird of remarkable discernment.

When almost another week had passed, the sultan of the crows slipped away in the night, went to his own town, and called his people together.

“To-morrow,” said he, “is the great annual religious festival of the kites, and they will all go to church in the morning. Go, now, and get some wood and some fire, and wait near their town until I call you; then come quickly and set fire to the church.”

Then he hurried back to Mwayway’s town.

The crows were very busy indeed all that night, and by dawn they had an abundance of wood and fire at hand, and were lying in wait near the town of their victorious enemies.

So in the morning every kite went to church. There was not one person left at home except old Koongooroo.

When his neighbors called for him they found him lying down. “Why!” they exclaimed with surprise, “are you not going to church to-day?”

“Oh,” said he, “I wish I could; but my stomach aches so badly I can’t move!” And he groaned dreadfully.

“Ah, poor fellow!” said they; “you will be better in bed;” and they left him to himself.

As soon as everybody was out of sight he flew swiftly to his soldiers and cried, “Come on; they’re all in the church.”

Then they all crept quickly but quietly to the church, and while some piled wood about the door, others applied fire.

The wood caught readily, and the fire was burning fiercely before the kites were aware of their danger; but when the church began to fill with smoke, and tongues of flame shot through the cracks, they tried to escape through the windows. The greater part of them, however, were suffocated, or, having their wings singed, could not fly away, and so were burned to death, among them their sultan, Mwayway; and Koongooroo and his crows got their old town back again. From that day to this the kites fly away from the crows.

The Slave Girl who tried to Kill her Mistress

Akpan, an Ibibio native, paid a high dowry to marry Emme, a beautiful girl placed in a traditional fattening house. On her journey to Akpan, Emme was betrayed by her slave girl, who pushed her into a forbidden spring, hoping to replace her. Rescued from the Water Ju Ju through sacrifices, Emme reclaimed her rightful place, exposing the slave girl’s treachery. Traditions then changed to prevent such deceptions.

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

► Themes of the story

Sacrifice: To rescue Emme, offerings are made to the Water Ju Ju, reflecting the idea that great outcomes often require significant personal or communal giving, a theme deeply tied to spiritual or moral undertones.

Revenge and Justice: The slave girl’s betrayal is ultimately revealed, leading to her punishment. This reinforces the concept that wrongdoing does not go unaddressed and that justice prevails in the end.

Ritual and Initiation: The fattening-house ritual, part of the traditional coming-of-age process, symbolizes societal transitions and the importance of cultural rites in defining roles and responsibilities within the community.

► From the same Region or People

West Africa
- Nigerian Lore

Learn more about Nigerian peoples

A man called Akpan, who was a native of Oku, a town in the Ibibio country, admired a girl called Emme very much, who lived at Ibibio, and wished to marry her, as she was the finest girl in her company. It was the custom in those days for the parents to demand such a large amount for their daughters as dowry, that if after they were married they failed to get on with their husbands, as they could not redeem themselves, they were sold as slaves. Akpan paid a very large sum as dowry for Emme, and she was put in the fatting-house until the proper time arrived for her to marry.

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Akpan told the parents that when their daughter was ready they must send her over to him. This they promised to do. Emme’s father was a rich man, and after seven years had elapsed, and it became time for her to go to her husband, he saw a very fine girl, who had also just come out of the fatting-house, and whom the parents wished to sell as a slave. Emme’s father therefore bought her, and gave her to his daughter as her handmaiden.

The next day Emme’s little sister, being very anxious to go with her, obtained the consent of her mother, and they started off together, the slave girl carrying a large bundle containing clothes and presents from Emme’s father. Akpan’s house was a long day’s march from where they lived. When they arrived just outside the town they came to a spring, where the people used to get their drinking water from, but no one was allowed to bathe there. Emme, however, knew nothing about this. They took off their clothes to wash close to the spring, and where there was a deep hole which led to the Water Ju Ju’s house. The slave girl knew of this Ju Ju, and thought if she could get her mistress to bathe, she would be taken by the Ju Ju, and she would then be able to take her place and marry Akpan. So they went down to bathe, and when they were close to the water the slave girl pushed her mistress in, and she at once disappeared. The little girl then began to cry, but the slave girl said, “If you cry any more I will kill you at once, and throw your body into the hole after your sister.” And she told the child that she must never mention what had happened to any one, and particularly not to Akpan, as she was going to represent her sister and marry him, and that if she ever told any one what she had seen, she would be killed at once. She then made the little girl carry her load to Akpan’s house.

When they arrived, Akpan was very much disappointed at the slave girl’s appearance, as she was not nearly as pretty and fine as he had expected her to be; but as he had not seen Emme for seven years, he had no suspicion that the girl was not really Emme, for whom he had paid such a large dowry. He then called all his company together to play and feast, and when they arrived they were much astonished, and said, “Is this the fine woman for whom you paid so much dowry, and whom you told us so much about?” And Akpan could not answer them.

The slave girl was then for some time very cruel to Emme’s little sister, and wanted her to die, so that her position would be more secure with her husband. She beat the little girl every day, and always made her carry the largest water-pot to the spring; she also made the child place her finger in the fire to use as firewood. When the time came for food, the slave girl went to the fire and got a burning piece of wood and burned the child all over the body with it. When Akpan asked her why she treated the child so badly, she replied that she was a slave that her father had bought for her. When the little girl took the heavy water-pot to the river to fill it there was no one to lift it up for her, so that she could not get it on to her head; she therefore had to remain a long time at the spring, and at last began calling for her sister Emme to come and help her.

When Emme heard her little sister crying for her, she begged the Water Ju Ju to allow her to go and help her, so he told her she might go, but that she must return to him again immediately. When the little girl saw her sister she did not want to leave her, and asked to be allowed to go into the hole with her. She then told Emme how very badly she had been treated by the slave girl, and her elder sister told her to have patience and wait, that a day of vengeance would arrive sooner or later. The little girl went back to Akpan’s house with a glad heart as she had seen her sister, but when she got to the house, the slave girl said, “Why have you been so long getting the water?” and then took another stick from the fire and burnt the little girl again very badly, and starved her for the rest of the day.

This went on for some time, until, one day, when the child went to the river for water, after all the people had gone, she cried out for her sister as usual, but she did not come for a long time, as there was a hunter from Akpan’s town hidden near watching the hole, and the Water Ju Ju told Emme that she must not go; but, as the little girl went on crying bitterly, Emme at last persuaded the Ju Ju to let her go, promising to return quickly. When she emerged from the water, she looked very beautiful with the rays of the setting sun shining on her glistening body. She helped her little sister with her water-pot, and then disappeared into the hole again.

The hunter was amazed at what he had seen, and when he returned, he told Akpan what a beautiful woman had come out of the water and had helped the little girl with her water-pot. He also told Akpan that he was convinced that the girl he had seen at the spring was his proper wife, Emme, and that the Water Ju Ju must have taken her.

Akpan then made up his mind to go out and watch and see what happened, so, in the early morning the hunter came for him, and they both went down to the river, and hid in the forest near the water-hole.

When Akpan saw Emme come out of the water, he recognised her at once, and went home and considered how he should get her out of the power of the Water Ju Ju. He was advised by some of his friends to go to an old woman, who frequently made sacrifices to the Water Ju Ju, and consult her as to what was the best thing to do.

When he went to her, she told him to bring her one white slave, one white goat, one piece of white cloth, one white chicken, and a basket of eggs. Then, when the great Ju Ju day arrived, she would take them to the Water Ju Ju, and make a sacrifice of them on his behalf. The day after the sacrifice was made, the Water Ju Ju would return the girl to her, and she would bring her to Akpan.

Akpan then bought the slave, and took all the other things to the old woman, and, when the day of the sacrifice arrived, he went with his friend the hunter and witnessed the old woman make the sacrifice. The slave was bound up and led to the hole, then the old woman called to the Water Ju Ju and cut the slave’s throat with a sharp knife and pushed him into the hole. She then did the same to the goat and chicken, and also threw the eggs and cloth in on top of them.

After this had been done, they all returned to their homes. The next morning at dawn the old woman went to the hole, and found Emme standing at the side of the spring, so she told her that she was her friend, and was going to take her to her husband. She then took Emme back to her own home, and hid her in her room, and sent word to Akpan to come to her house, and to take great care that the slave woman knew nothing about the matter.

So Akpan left the house secretly by the back door, and arrived at the old woman’s house without meeting anybody.

When Emme saw Akpan, she asked for her little sister, so he sent his friend, the hunter, for her to the spring, and he met her carrying her water-pot to get the morning supply of water for the house, and brought her to the old woman’s house with him.

When Emme had embraced her sister, she told her to return to the house and do something to annoy the slave woman, and then she was to run as fast as she could back to the old woman’s house, where, no doubt, the slave girl would follow her, and would meet them all inside the house, and see Emme, who she believed she had killed.

The little girl did as she was told, and, directly she got into the house, she called out to the slave woman: “Do you know that you are a wicked woman, and have treated me very badly? I know you are only my sister’s slave, and you will be properly punished.” She then ran as hard as she could to the old woman’s house. Directly the slave woman heard what the little girl said, she was quite mad with rage, and seized a burning stick from the fire, and ran after the child; but the little one got to the house first, and ran inside, the slave woman following close upon her heels with the burning stick in her hand.

Then Emme came out and confronted the slave woman, and she at once recognised her mistress, whom she thought she had killed, so she stood quite still.

Then they all went back to Akpan’s house, and when they arrived there, Akpan asked the slave woman what she meant by pretending that she was Emme, and why she had tried to kill her. But, seeing she was found out, the slave woman had nothing to say.

Many people were then called to a play to celebrate the recovery of Akpan’s wife, and when they had all come, he told them what the slave woman had done.

After this, Emme treated the slave girl in the same way as she had treated her little sister. She made her put her fingers in the fire, and burnt her with sticks. She also made her beat foo-foo with her head in a hollowed-out tree, and after a time she was tied up to a tree and starved to death.

Ever since that time, when a man marries a girl, he is always present when she comes out of the fatting-house and takes her home himself, so that such evil things as happened to Emme and her sister may not occur again.

The Orphan Boy and the Magic Stone

Ayong Kita, son of Chief Inkita of Inde, was orphaned young and faced exile when discontented slaves plotted his death. Surviving in the bush, he received guidance from an old woman who gave him a magical stone. Using its powers, Ayong amassed wealth and eventually reclaimed his father’s legacy. However, his ruthless trials of accused witches and their aftermath haunted his rule, shaping traditions in his land.

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

► Themes of the story

Forbidden Knowledge: Ayong gains access to hidden wisdom through his dream and the old woman’s guidance, leading him to buried treasure and the magical stone.

Sacred Objects: The magical stone serves as a powerful artifact that grants Ayong wealth and the means to reclaim his father’s legacy.

Revenge and Justice: Ayong’s return to his father’s house and his subsequent actions, including the trials of accused witches, reflect themes of retribution and the pursuit of justice.

► From the same Region or People

West Africa
- Nigerian Lore

Learn more about Nigerian peoples

A chief of Inde named Inkita had a son named Ayong Kita, whose mother had died at his birth.

The old chief was a hunter, and used to take his son out with him when he went into the bush. He used to do most of his hunting in the long grass which grows over nearly all the Inde country, and used to kill plenty of bush buck in the dry season.

In those days the people had no guns, so the chief had to shoot everything he got with his bow and arrows, which required a lot of skill.

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When his little son was old enough, he gave him a small bow and some small arrows, and taught him how to shoot. The little boy was very quick at learning, and by continually practising at lizards and small birds, soon became expert in the use of his little bow, and could hit them almost every time he shot at them.

When the boy was ten years old his father died, and as he thus became the head of his father’s house, and was in authority over all the slaves, they became very discontented, and made plans to kill him, so he ran away into the bush.

Having nothing to eat, he lived for several days on the nuts which fell from the palm trees. He was too young to kill any large animals, and only had his small bow and arrows, with which he killed a few squirrels, bush rats, and small birds, and so managed to live.

Now once at night, when he was sleeping in the hollow of a tree, he had a dream in which his father appeared, and told him where there was plenty of treasure buried in the earth, but, being a small boy, he was frightened, and did not go to the place.

One day, some time after the dream, having walked far and being very thirsty, he went to a lake, and was just going to drink, when he heard a hissing sound, and heard a voice tell him not to drink. Not seeing any one, he was afraid, and ran away without drinking.

Early next morning, when he was out with his bow trying to shoot some small animal, he met an old woman with quite long hair. She was so ugly that he thought she must be a witch, so he tried to run, but she told him not to fear, as she wanted to help him and assist him to rule over his late father’s house. She also told him that it was she who had called out to him at the lake not to drink, as there was a bad Ju Ju in the water which would have killed him. The old woman then took Ayong to a stream some little distance from the lake, and bending down, took out a small shining stone from the water, which she gave to him, at the same time telling him to go to the place which his father had advised him to visit in his dream. She then said, “When you get there you must dig, and you will find plenty of money; you must then go and buy two strong slaves, and when you have got them, you must take them into the forest, away from the town, and get them to build you a house with several rooms in it. You must then place the stone in one of the rooms, and whenever you want anything, all you have to do is to go into the room and tell the stone what you want, and your wishes will be at once gratified.”

Ayong did as the old woman told him, and after much difficulty and danger bought the two slaves and built a house in the forest, taking great care of the precious stone, which he placed in an inside room. Then for some time, whenever he wanted anything, he used to go into the room and ask for a sufficient number of rods to buy what he wanted, and they were always brought at once.

This went on for many years, and Ayong grew up to be a man, and became very rich, and bought many slaves, having made friends with the Aro men, who in those days used to do a big traffic in slaves. After ten years had passed Ayong had quite a large town and many slaves, but one night the old woman appeared to him in a dream and told him that she thought that he was sufficiently wealthy, and that it was time for him to return the magic stone to the small stream from whence it came. But Ayong, although he was rich, wanted to rule his father’s house and be a head chief for all the Inde country, so he sent for all the Ju Ju men in the country and two witch men, and marched with all his slaves to his father’s town. Before he started he held a big palaver, and told them to point out any slave who had a bad heart, and who might kill him when he came to rule the country. Then the Ju Ju men consulted together, and pointed out fifty of the slaves who, they said, were witches, and would try to kill Ayong. He at once had them made prisoners, and tried them by the ordeal of Esere bean to see whether they were witches or not. [The Esere or Calabar bean is a strong poison, and was formerly much used by the natives. These beans are ground up in a stone mortar, and are then swallowed by the accused person. If the man dies he is considered guilty, but if he lives, he is supposed to have proved his innocence of whatever the charge may have been which was brought against him. Death generally ensues about two hours after the poison is administered. If the accused takes a sufficient amount of the ground-up beans to make him vomit it will probably save his life, otherwise he will die in great pain.] As none of them could vomit the beans they all died, and were declared to be witches. He then had them buried at once. When the remainder of his slaves saw what had happened, they all came to him and begged his pardon, and promised to serve him faithfully. Although the fifty men were buried they could not rest, and troubled Ayong very much, and after a time he became very sick himself, so he sent again for the Ju Ju men, who told him that it was the witch men who, although they were dead and buried, had power to come out at night and used to suck Ayong’s blood, which was the cause of his sickness. They then said, “We are only three Ju Ju men; you must get seven more of us, making the magic number of ten.” When they came they dug up the bodies of the fifty witches, and found they were quite fresh. Then Ayong had big fires made, and burned them one after the other, and gave the Ju Ju men a big present. He soon after became quite well again, and took possession of his father’s property, and ruled over all the country. Ever since then, whenever any one is accused of being a witch, they are tried by the ordeal of the poisonous Esere bean, and if they can vomit they do not die, and are declared innocent, but if they cannot do so, they die in great pain.

The Story of the Leopard, the Tortoise, and the Bush Rat

During a famine, a clever tortoise, angry at the leopard for killing his mother, discovered a hidden lake with fish, keeping his family well-fed. The leopard, noticing the tortoise’s good fortune, demanded fish but was tricked into being tied to a tree in a “game.” Left to starve, the leopard was eventually freed by a cautious bush rat, narrowly escaping death, leaving scars that marked bush rats forever.

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

► Themes of the story

Revenge and Justice: The tortoise seeks retribution against the leopard for killing his mother, reflecting themes of vengeance and moral retribution.

Conflict with Nature: The animals face a famine, highlighting their struggle against natural forces for survival.

Cunning and Deception: The tortoise’s deceitful tactics to outsmart the leopard emphasize the use of wit to achieve goals.

► From the same Region or People

West Africa
- Nigerian Lore

Learn more about Nigerian peoples

At the time of the great famine all the animals were very thin and weak from want of food; but there was one exception, and that was the tortoise and all his family, who were quite fat, and did not seem to suffer at all. Even the leopard was very thin, in spite of the arrangement he had made with the animals to bring him their old grandmothers and mothers for food.

In the early days of the famine (as you will remember) the leopard had killed the mother of the tortoise, in consequence of which the tortoise was very angry with the leopard, and determined if possible to be revenged upon him.

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The tortoise, who was very clever, had discovered a shallow lake full of fish in the middle of the forest, and every morning he used to go to the lake and, without much trouble, bring back enough food for himself and his family. One day the leopard met the tortoise and noticed how fat he was. As he was very thin himself he decided to watch the tortoise, so the next morning he hid himself in the long grass near the tortoise’s house and waited very patiently, until at last the tortoise came along quite slowly, carrying a basket which appeared to be very heavy. Then the leopard sprang out, and said to the tortoise:

“What have you got in that basket?”

The tortoise, as he did not want to lose his breakfast, replied that he was carrying firewood back to his home. Unfortunately for the tortoise the leopard had a very acute sense of smell, and knew at once that there was fish in the basket, so he said:

“I know there is fish in there, and I am going to eat it.”

The tortoise, not being in a position to refuse, as he was such a poor creature, said:

“Very well. Let us sit down under this shady tree, and if you will make a fire I will go to my house and get pepper, oil, and salt, and then we will feed together.”

To this the leopard agreed, and began to search about for dry wood, and started the fire. In the meantime the tortoise waddled off to his house, and very soon returned with the pepper, salt, and oil; he also brought a long piece of cane tie-tie, which is very strong. This he put on the ground, and began boiling the fish. Then he said to the leopard:

“While we are waiting for the fish to cook, let us play at tying one another up to a tree. You may tie me up first, and when I say ‘Tighten,’ you must loose the rope, and when I say ‘Loosen,’ you must tighten the rope.”

The leopard, who was very hungry, thought that this game would make the time pass more quickly until the fish was cooked, so he said he would play. The tortoise then stood with his back to the tree and said, “Loosen the rope,” and the leopard, in accordance with the rules of the game, began to tie up the tortoise. Very soon the tortoise shouted out, “Tighten!” and the leopard at once unfastened the tie-tie, and the tortoise was free. The tortoise then said, “Now, leopard, it is your turn;” so the leopard stood up against the tree and called out to the tortoise to loosen the rope, and the tortoise at once very quickly passed the rope several times round the leopard and got him fast to the tree. Then the leopard said, “Tighten the rope;” but instead of playing the game in accordance with the rules he had laid down, the tortoise ran faster and faster with the rope round the leopard, taking great care, however, to keep out of reach of the leopard’s claws, and very soon had the leopard so securely fastened that it was quite impossible for him to free himself.

All this time the leopard was calling out to the tortoise to let him go, as he was tired of the game; but the tortoise only laughed, and sat down at the fireside and commenced his meal. When he had finished he packed up the remainder of the fish for his family, and prepared to go, but before he started he said to the leopard:

“You killed my mother and now you want to take my fish. It is not likely that I am going to the lake to get fish for you, so I shall leave you here to starve.”

He then threw the remains of the pepper and salt into the leopard’s eyes and quietly went on his way, leaving the leopard roaring with pain.

All that day and throughout the night the leopard was calling out for some one to release him, and vowing all sorts of vengeance on the tortoise; but no one came, as the people and animals of the forest do not like to hear the leopard’s voice.

In the morning, when the animals began to go about to get their food, the leopard called out to every one he saw to come and untie him, but they all refused, as they knew that if they did so the leopard would most likely kill them at once and eat them. At last a bush rat came near and saw the leopard tied up to the tree and asked him what was the matter, so the leopard told him that he had been playing a game of “tight” and “loose” with the tortoise, and that he had tied him up and left him there to starve. The leopard then implored the bush rat to cut the ropes with his sharp teeth. The bush rat was very sorry for the leopard; but at the same time he knew that, if he let the leopard go, he would most likely be killed and eaten, so he hesitated, and said that he did not quite see his way to cutting the ropes. But this bush rat, being rather kind-hearted, and having had some experience of traps himself, could sympathise with the leopard in his uncomfortable position. He therefore thought for a time, and then hit upon a plan. He first started to dig a hole under the tree, quite regardless of the leopard’s cries. When he had finished the hole he came out and cut one of the ropes, and immediately ran into his hole, and waited there to see what would happen; but although the leopard struggled frantically, he could not get loose, as the tortoise had tied him up so fast. After a time, when he saw that there was no danger, the bush rat crept out again and very carefully bit through another rope, and then retired to his hole as before. Again nothing happened, and he began to feel more confidence, so he bit several strands through one after the other until at last the leopard was free. The leopard, who was ravenous with hunger, instead of being grateful to the bush rat, directly he was free, made a dash at the bush rat with his big paw, but just missed him, as the bush rat had dived for his hole; but he was not quite quick enough to escape altogether, and the leopard’s sharp claws scored his back and left marks which he carried to his grave. Ever since then the bush rats have had white spots on their skins, which represent the marks of the leopard’s claws.

Why a Hawk kills Chickens

A hawk marries a young hen after paying her dowry, but the hen later elopes with a cock. Angered, the hawk seeks justice from the king, who decrees the hen’s parents must repay the dowry. Unable to do so, the king permits the hawk to claim chickens as repayment. This tale explains the hawk’s predation on chickens, rooted in a dispute over marriage customs and loyalty.

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 hawk’s sense of betrayal by the hen and the cock contrasts with the perceived wrongdoing, highlighting moral conflicts.

Revenge and Justice: The hawk seeks retribution for the hen’s elopement, leading to a decree that allows him to prey on chickens as compensation.

Family Dynamics: The hen’s actions and the involvement of her parents in the dowry repayment underscore familial relationships and obligations.

► From the same Region or People

West Africa
- Nigerian Lore

Learn more about Nigerian peoples

In the olden days there was a very fine young hen who lived with her parents in the bush.

One day a hawk was hovering round, about eleven o’clock in the morning, as was his custom, making large circles in the air and scarcely moving his wings. His keen eyes were wide open, taking in everything (for nothing moving ever escapes the eyes of a hawk, no matter how small it may be or how high up in the air the hawk may be circling). This hawk saw the pretty hen picking up some corn near her father’s house.

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He therefore closed his wings slightly, and in a second of time was close to the ground; then spreading his wings out to check his flight, he alighted close to the hen and perched himself on the fence, as a hawk does not like to walk on the ground if he can help it.

He then greeted the young hen with his most enticing whistle, and offered to marry her. She agreed, so the hawk spoke to the parents, and paid the agreed amount of dowry, which consisted mostly of corn, and the next day took the young hen off to his home.

Shortly after this a young cock who lived near the hen’s former home found out where she was living, and having been in love with her for some months–in fact, ever since his spurs had grown–determined to try and make her return to her own country. He therefore went at dawn, and, having flapped his wings once or twice, crowed in his best voice to the young hen. When she heard the sweet voice of the cock she could not resist his invitation, so she went out to him, and they walked off together to her parent’s house, the young cock strutting in front crowing at intervals.

The hawk, who was hovering high up in the sky, quite out of sight of any ordinary eye, saw what had happened, and was very angry. He made up his mind at once that he would obtain justice from the king, and flew off to Calabar, where he told the whole story, and asked for immediate redress. So the king sent for the parents of the hen, and told them they must repay to the hawk the amount of dowry they had received from him on the marriage of their daughter, according to the native custom; but the hen’s parents said that they were so poor that they could not possibly afford to pay. So the king told the hawk that he could kill and eat any of the cock’s children whenever and wherever he found them as payment of his dowry, and, if the cock made any complaint, the king would not listen to him.

From that time until now, whenever a hawk sees a chicken he swoops down and carries it off in part-payment of his dowry.

The Woman, the Ape, and the Child

Okun Archibong, a hunter and slave of King Archibong, married Nkoyo, a slave of Duke’s house. When a jealous hunter, Effiong Edem, falsely accused Nkoyo of associating with an ape that played with her baby, tragedy unfolded. Okun killed the ape and Nkoyo, sparking conflict between King Archibong and King Duke. Ultimately, Effiong was executed, and laws were enacted to prevent such disputes.

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

► Themes of the story

Family Dynamics: The narrative centers on the relationships within a family, particularly focusing on Nkoyo, her child, and the implications of her interactions with the ape.

Revenge and Justice: The story depicts acts of vengeance following perceived wrongs, leading to a cycle of retribution between individuals and communities.

Tragic Flaw: Okun Archibong’s impulsive reaction to the situation, driven by anger and jealousy, leads to irreversible tragedy, highlighting a fatal flaw in his character.

► From the same Region or People

West Africa
- Nigerian Lore

Learn more about Nigerian peoples

Okun Archibong was one of King Archibong’s slaves, and lived on a farm near Calabar. He was a hunter, and used to kill bush buck and other kinds of antelopes and many monkeys. The skins he used to dry in the sun, and when they were properly cured, he used to sell them in the market; the monkey skins were used for making drums, and the antelope skins were used for sitting mats. The flesh, after it had been well smoked over a wood fire, he also sold, but he did not make much money. Okun Archibong married a slave woman of Duke’s house named Nkoyo. He paid a small dowry to the Dukes, took his wife home to his farm, and in the dry season time she had a son.

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About four months after the birth of the child Nkoyo took him to the farm while her husband was absent hunting. She placed the little boy under a shady tree and went about her work, which was clearing the ground for the yams which would be planted about two months before the rains. Every day while the mother was working a big ape used to come from the forest and play with the little boy; he used to hold him in his arms and carry him up a tree, and when Nkoyo had finished her work, he used to bring the baby back to her. There was a hunter named Edem Effiong who had for a long time been in love with Nkoyo, and had made advances to her, but she would have nothing to do with him, as she was very fond of her husband. When she had her little child Effiong Edem was very jealous, and meeting her one day on the farm without her baby, he said: “Where is your baby?” And she replied that a big ape had taken it up a tree and was looking after it for her. When Effiong Edem saw that the ape was a big one, he made up his mind to tell Nkoyo’s husband. The very next day he told Okun Archibong that he had seen his wife in the forest with a big ape. At first Okun would not believe this, but the hunter told him to come with him and he could see it with his own eyes. Okun Archibong therefore made up his mind to kill the ape. The next day he went with the other hunter to the farm and saw the ape up a tree playing with his son, so he took very careful aim and shot the ape, but it was not quite killed. It was so angry, and its strength was so great, that it tore the child limb from limb and threw it to the ground. This so enraged Okun Archibong that seeing his wife standing near he shot her also. He then ran home and told King Archibong what had taken place. This king was very brave and fond of fighting, so as he knew that King Duke would be certain to make war upon him, he immediately called in all his fighting men. When he was quite prepared he sent a messenger to tell King Duke what had happened. Duke was very angry, and sent the messenger back to King Archibong to say that he must send the hunter to him, so that he could kill him in any way he pleased. This Archibong refused to do, and said he would rather fight. Duke then got his men together, and both sides met and fought in the market square. Thirty men were killed of Duke’s men, and twenty were killed on Archibong’s side; there were also many wounded. On the whole King Archibong had the best of the fighting, and drove King Duke back. When the fighting was at its hottest the other chiefs sent out all the Egbo men with drums and stopped the fight, and the next day the palaver was tried in Egbo house. King Archibong was found guilty, and was ordered to pay six thousand rods to King Duke. He refused to pay this amount to Duke, and said he would rather go on fighting, but he did not mind paying the six thousand rods to the town, as the Egbos had decided the case. They were about to commence fighting again when the whole country rose up and said they would not have any more fighting, as Archibong said to Duke that the woman’s death was not really the fault of his slave Okun Archibong, but of Effiong Edem, who made the false report. When Duke heard this he agreed to leave the whole matter to the chiefs to decide, and Effiong Edem was called to take his place on the stone. He was tried and found guilty, and two Egbos came out armed with cutting whips and gave him two hundred lashes on his bare back, and then cut off his head and sent it to Duke, who placed it before his Ju Ju. From that time to the present all apes and monkeys have been frightened of human beings; and even of little children. The Egbos also passed a law that a chief should not allow one of his men slaves to marry a woman slave of another house, as it would probably lead to fighting.

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

West Africa
- Nigerian Lore

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.

The Palace in the Clouds

Ikkor, a wise Jewish vizier in Assyria, was admired yet sorrowful due to his childlessness. Adopting his nephew Nadan brought brief joy, but Nadan grew arrogant and betrayed Ikkor, framing him for treason. Sentenced to death, Ikkor was saved by a loyal executioner. Later, Ikkor’s wisdom solved a challenge from Egypt’s Pharaoh, proving his innocence. Restored to honor, Ikkor banished Nadan and reclaimed his legacy.

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

► Themes of the story

Family Dynamics: The relationship between Ikkor and his adopted nephew Nadan is central to the narrative, highlighting complexities within familial bonds.

Cunning and Deception: Nadan’s deceitful schemes to undermine Ikkor showcase the use of cunning for malicious purposes.

Revenge and Justice: Ikkor’s eventual vindication and Nadan’s punishment reflect the restoration of justice.

► From the same Region or People

West Asia
- Jewish Lore

Learn more about Jewish mythology

Ikkor, the Jewish vizier of the king of Assyria, was the wisest man in the land, but he was not happy. He was the greatest favorite of the king who heaped honors upon him, and the idol of the people who bowed before him in the streets and cast themselves on the ground at his feet to kiss the hem of his garment. Always he had a kindly word and a smile for those who sought his advice and guidance, but his eyes were ever sad, and tears would trickle down his cheeks as he watched the little children at play in the streets.

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His fame as a man of wisdom was known far beyond the borders of Assyria, and rulers feared to give offense to the king who had Ikkor as the chief of his counselors to assist in the affairs of state. But Ikkor would oft sit alone in his beautiful palace and sigh heavily. No sound of children’s laughter was ever heard in the palace of Ikkor, and that was the cause of his sorrow. Ikkor was a pious man and deeply learned in the Holy Law; and he had prayed long and devoutly and had listened unto the advice of magicians that he might be blessed with but one son, or even a daughter, to carry down his name and renown. But the years passed and no child was born to him.

Every year, on the advice of the king, he married another wife, and now he had in his harem thirty wives, all childless. He determined to take unto himself no more wives, and one night he dreamed a dream in which a spirit appeared to him and said:

“Ikkor, thou wilt die full of years and honor, but childless. Therefore, take Nadan, the son of thy widowed sister and let him be a son to thee.”

Nadan was a handsome youth of fifteen, and Ikkor related his dream to the boy’s mother who permitted him to take Nadan to his palace and there bring him up as his own son. The sadness faded from the vizier’s eyes as he watched the lad at his games and his lessons, and Ikkor himself imparted wisdom to Nadan. But, first to his surprise, and then to his grief, Nadan was not thankful for the riches and love lavished upon him. He neglected his lessons and grew proud, haughty and arrogant. He treated the servants of the household harshly and did not obey the wise maxims of Ikkor.

The vizier, however, was hopeful that he would reform and gain wisdom with years, and he took him to the palace of the king and appointed him an officer of the royal guard. For Ikkor’s sake, the king made Nadan one of his favorites, and all in the land looked upon the young man as the successor of Ikkor and the future vizier. This only served to make Nadan still more arrogant, and a wicked idea entered his head to gain further favor with the king and supplant Ikkor at once.

“O King, live for ever!” he said one day, when Ikkor was absent in a distant part of the land; “it grieves me to have to utter words of warning against Ikkor, the wise, the father who has adopted me. But he conspires to destroy thee.”

The king laughed at this suggestion, but he became serious when Nadan promised to give him proof in three days. Nadan then set to work and wrote two letters. One was addressed to Pharaoh, king of Egypt, and read as follows:

“Pharaoh, son of the Sun and mighty ruler on earth, live for ever! Thou wouldst reign over Assyria. Give ear then to my words and on the tenth day of the next month come with thy troops to the Eagle Plain beyond the city, and I, Ikkor, the grand vizier, will deliver thine enemy, the King of Assyria, into thy hands.”

To this letter he forged Ikkor’s name; then he took it to the king.

“I have found this,” he said, “and have brought it to thee. It shows thee that Ikkor would deliver this country to thine enemy.”

The king was very angry and would have sent for Ikkor at once, but Nadan counseled patience.

“Wait until the tenth of next month, the day of the annual review, and thou wilt see what will surprise thee still more,” he said.

Then he wrote the second letter. This was to Ikkor and was forged with the king’s name and sealed with the king’s seal which he obtained. It bade Ikkor on the tenth of the next month to assemble the troops on the Eagle Plain to show how numerous they were to the foreign envoys and to pretend to attack the king, so as to demonstrate how well they were drilled.

The vizier returned the day before the review, and while the king stood with Nadan and the foreign envoys, Ikkor and the troops, acting on their instructions, made a pretense of attacking his majesty.

“Do you not see?” said Nadan. “The king of Egypt not being here, Ikkor threatens thee,” and he immediately gave orders to the royal trumpeters to sound “Halt!”

Ikkor was brought before the king and confronted with the letter to Pharaoh.

“Explain this, if thou canst,” exclaimed the king, angrily. “I have trusted thee and loaded thee with riches and honors and thou wouldst betray me. Is not this thy signature, and is not thy seal appended?”

Ikkor was too much astounded to reply, and Nadan whispered to the king that this proved his guilt.

“Lead him to the execution,” cried the king, “and let his head be severed from his body and cast one hundred ells away.”

Falling on his knees, Ikkor pleaded that at least he should be granted the privilege of being executed within his own house so that he might be buried there.

This request was granted, and Nabu Samak, the executioner, led Ikkor a prisoner to his palace. Nabu Samak was a great friend to Ikkor and it grieved him to have to carry out the king’s order.

“Ikkor,” he said, “I am certain that thou art innocent, and I would save thee. Hearken unto me. In the prison is a wretched highwayman who has committed murder and who deserves death. His beard and hair are like thine, and at a little distance he can easily be mistaken for thee. Him will I behead and his head will I show to the crowd, whilst thou canst hide and live in secret.”

Ikkor thanked his friend and the plan was carried out. The robber’s head was exhibited to the crowd from the roof of the house and the people wept because they thought it was the head of the good Ikkor. Meanwhile, the vizier descended into a cellar deep beneath his palace and was there fed, while his adopted son, Nadan, was appointed chief of the king’s counselors in his stead.

Now, when Pharaoh, king of Egypt, heard that Ikkor, the wise, had been executed, he determined to make war upon Assyria. Therefore, he dispatched a letter to the king, asking him to send an architect to design and build a palace in the clouds.

“If this thou doest,” he wrote, “I, Pharaoh, son of the Sun, will pay thee tribute; if thou failest, thou must pay me tribute.”

The king of Assyria was perplexed when he received this letter which had to be answered in three months. Nadan could not advise him what to do, and he bitterly regretted that Ikkor, the man of wisdom, was no longer by his side to advise him.

“I would give one-fourth of my kingdom to bring Ikkor to life again,” he exclaimed.

Hearing these words, Nabu Samak, the executioner, fell on his knees and confessed that Ikkor was alive.

“Bring him hither at once,” cried the king.

Ikkor could scarcely credit the truth when his friend came to him in the cellar with the news, and the people wept tears of joy and pity when the old vizier was led through the streets. He presented a most extraordinary spectacle.

For twelve months he had been immured in the cellar and his beard had grown down to the ground, his hair descended below his shoulders and his finger nails were several inches long. The king wept, too, when he saw his old vizier.

“Ikkor,” he said, “for months have I felt that thou wert innocent, and I have missed thy wise counsels. Help me in my difficulty and thou shalt be pardoned.”

“Your majesty,” said Ikkor, “I desire nothing more than to serve thee. I am innocent. Time will prove me guiltless.”

When he saw Pharaoh’s demand, he smiled.

“‘Tis easy,” he said. “I will go to Egypt and outwit Pharaoh.”

He gave orders that four of the tame eagles in the gardens of the palace should be brought to him with cords five hundred ells long attached to their claws. Then he selected four youths, lithe of figure, and trained them to sit on the backs of the eagles and soar aloft. This done, he set out for Egypt with a big caravan and a long retinue of slaves.

“What is thy name?” asked Pharaoh, when he presented himself.

“My name is Akbam, and I am but the lowest of my king’s advisers.”

“Does thy master then think my demand so simple?” asked Pharaoh.

Ikkor bowed to indicate that this was so, and Pharaoh was much annoyed and puzzled.

“Perform thy task and at once,” he commanded.

At a sign from Ikkor, the four youths mounted the eagles which flew aloft to the extremity of their cords. The birds remained in the air two hundred ells apart, as they had been trained, and the lads held cords in the form of a square.

“That is the plan of the palace in the clouds,” said Ikkor, pointing aloft. “Bid your men carry up bricks and mortar. The task is so simple that the boys will build.”

Pharaoh frowned. He had not expected to be thus outwitted, but he would not immediately acknowledge this.

“In this land,” he said, sarcastically, “we use no mortar. We sew the stones together. Canst thou do this?”

“Easily,” replied Ikkor, “if your wise men can make me a thread of sand.”

“And canst thou weave a thread of sand?” asked Pharaoh.

“I can,” responded Ikkor.

Noting the direction of the sun, he bored a tiny hole in the wall, and a thin sunbeam gleamed through. Then, taking a few grains of sand he blew them through the hole and in the sunbeam they seemed like a thread.

“Take it, quickly,” he cried, but of course nobody could do this.

Pharaoh looked long and earnestly at Ikkor.

“Truly, thou art a man of wisdom,” he said. “If he were not dead I should say thou wert Ikkor, the wise.”

“I am Ikkor,” answered the vizier, and he told the story of his escape.

“I will prove thy innocence,” exclaimed Pharaoh. “I will write a letter to your royal master.”

Not only did he do so, but he gave Ikkor many valuable presents and the vizier returned to Assyria, resumed his place by the king’s side, and became a greater favorite than before. Nadan was banished and was never heard of again.