{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_35557/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_35557","id":"gutenberg_35557","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35557","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore -- South Africa"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\n                          OUTA KAREL'S STORIES\n\n                     South African Folk-Lore Tales\n\n                                   By\n                           SANNI METELERKAMP\n\n                With illustrations by Constance Penstone\n\n\n\n                       Macmillan and Co., Limited\n                      St. Martin's Street, London\n                                  1914\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                            To all children\n                             young and old\n                       who love a folk-lore story\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD.\n\n\nMy thanks are due to Dr. Maitland Park, Editor of The Cape Times, and\nAdv. B. K. Long, M.L.A., Editor of The State, for their kind permission\nto republish such of these tales as have appeared in their papers.\n\nFor the leading idea in \"The Sun\" and \"The Stars and the Stars'\nRoad,\" I gladly acknowledge my indebtedness to that monument of\npatient labour and research, \"Specimens of Bushman Folk-lore,\" by\nthe late Dr. Bleek and Miss Lucy Lloyd.\n\nFurther, I lay no claim to originality for any of the stories in this\ncollection--at best a very small proportion of a vast store from which\nthe story-teller of the future may draw, embodying the superstitions,\nthe crude conceptions, the childish ideas of a primitive and rapidly\ndisappearing people. They are known in some form or other wherever\nthe negro has set foot, and are the common property of every country\nchild in South Africa.\n\nI greatly regret that they appear here in what is, to them, a foreign\ntongue. No one who has not heard them in the Taal--that quaint,\nexpressive language of the people--can have any idea of what they lose\nthrough translation, but, having been written in the first instance\nfor English publications, the original medium was out of the question.\n\nClear cold evenings, with a pleasant tang of frost in the air,\nfigure here and there in these pages, but as I write other scenes,\ntoo, flit across the lighted screen of Memory--noontides of tropic\nheat with all the world sunk in a languorous slumber, glowing sunsets,\nthrobbing summer nights when the stars seemed to tremble almost within\none's reach, moonlit spaces filled with soft mystery and the thousand\nseductive voices of the pulsing southern night. And always, part and\nparcel of the passing panorama, the quaint figure of the old Native\nwith his little masters....\n\nIt is nearly three years now since \"Old Friend Death\" took him gently\nby the hand and led him away to that far, far country of which he had\nsuch vague ideas, so he tells no more stories by the firelight in the\ngloaming; and his little masters--children no longer--are claimed\nby graver tasks and wider interests. But in the hope that others,\nboth little ones and children of a larger growth, may find the same\npleasure in these tales of a childlike race, they are sent out to\nfind their own level and take their chance in the workaday world.\n\n\n    S. M.\n\n        Cape Town, January, 1914.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                Page\n       I. The Place and the People                 1\n      II. How Jakhals Fed Oom Leeuw               12\n     III. Who was King?                           29\n      IV. Why the Hyena is Lame                   43\n       V. Who was the Thief?                      47\n      VI. The Sun                                 54\n     VII. The Stars and the Stars' Road           63\n    VIII. Why the Hare's Nose is Slit             70\n      IX. How the Jackal got his Stripe           78\n       X. The Animals' Dam                        88\n      XI. Saved by his Tail                      101\n     XII. The Flying Lion                        108\n    XIII. Why the Heron has a Crooked Neck       118\n     XIV. The Little Red Tortoise                128\n      XV. The Ostrich Hunt                       139\n\n\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n                                                                 Page\n    Outa Karel and Little Jan--The Little Red Tortoise   Frontispiece\n    \"The Stars' Road\"                                              64\n    \"The women with their babies on their backs, flew\"             81\n    The punishment of Broer Babiaan                                99\n    \"'Do you know, little Red Tortoise, in one moment I\n      could swallow you.'\"                                        136\n    \"The Ostriches ran faster and faster\"                         144\n\n\n\n\n\n\nGLOSSARY.\n\n\nAwa-skin, skin slung across the back to carry babies in.\nAskoekies, cakes baked in the ash.\n\nBaas, master.\nBaasje (pronounced Baasie), little master.\nBabiaan, baboon.\nBerg schilpad, mountain tortoise.\nBiltong, strips of sun-dried meat.\nBolmakissie, head over heels.\nBossies, bushes.\nBroer, brother.\nBuchu, an aromatic veld herb.\n\nCarbonaatje, grilled chop.\n\nDassie, rock-rabbit.\n\nEintje, an edible veld root.\n\nGezondheid! Your health!\n\nHaasje, little hare.\nHamel, wether.\n\nJakhals draaie, tricky turns.\n\nKaross, skin rug.\nKierie, a thick stick.\nKlein koning, little king.\nKneehaltered, hobbled.\nKopdoek, turban.\nKopje, hill.\nKrantz, precipice.\nKraal, enclosure.\n\nLammervanger, eagle.\nLeeuw, lion.\n\nMaanhaar, mane.\nMensevreter, cannibal.\n\nNeef, nephew.\nNooi, lady or mistress.\nNonnie, young lady, miss.\n\nOom, uncle.\nOuta, old man, prefix to the name of old natives.\n\nPronk, show off.\n\nReijer, heron.\nRiem, leathern thong.\nRustband, couch.\n\nSassaby or Sessebe, a South African antelope.\nSchelm, rogue; sly.\nSchilpad, tortoise.\nSjambok, whip of rhino or hippo hide.\nSkraal windje, fine cutting wind.\nSkrik, to be startled; also fright.\nSlim, cunningly clever.\nSmouse, pedlar.\nSoopje, tot.\n\nTaai, tough.\nTante, aunt.\nTarentaal, Guinea fowl.\nTover, toverij, witchcraft.\n\nVaabond, vagabond.\nVlakte, plain.\nVoertsed, jumping aside suddenly and violently.\nVolk, coloured farm labourers.\nVolstruis, ostrich.\nVrouw, wife.\nVrouwmens, woman.\n\nZandkruiper, sand-crawler.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nTHE PLACE AND THE PEOPLE.\n\n\nIt was winter in the Great Karroo. The evening air was so crisp\nand cutting that one seemed to hear the crick-crack of the frost,\nas it formed on the scant vegetation. A skraal windje blew from the\ndistant mountains, bringing with it a mingled odour of karroo-bush,\nsheep-kraals, and smoke from the Kafir huts--none, perhaps,\ndesirable in itself, but all so blent and purified in that rare,\nclear atmosphere, and so subservient to the exhilarating freshness,\nthat Pietie van der Merwe took several sniffs of pleasure as he peered\ninto the pale moonlight over the lower half of the divided door. Then,\nwith a little involuntary shiver, he closed the upper portion and\nturned to the ruddy warmth of the purring fire, which Willem was\nfeeding with mealie-cobs from the basket beside him.\n\nLittle Jan sat in the corner of the wide, old-fashioned rustbank, his\nlarge grey eyes gazing wistfully into the red heart of the fire, while\nhis hand absently stroked Torry, the fox terrier, curled up beside him.\n\nMother, in her big Madeira chair at the side table, yawned a little\nover her book; for, winter or summer, the mistress of a karroo farm\nleads a busy life, and the end of the day finds her ready for a\nwell-earned rest.\n\nPietie held his hands towards the blaze, turning his head now and again\ntowards the door at the far end of the room. Presently this opened\nand father appeared, comfortably and leisurely, as if such things as\nshearing, dipping, and ploughing were no part of his day's work. Only\nthe healthy tan, the broad shoulders, the whole well-developed physique\nproclaimed his strenuous, open-air life. His eye rested with pleasure\non the scene before him--the bright fire, throwing gleam and shadow\non painted wall and polished woodwork, and giving a general air of\ncosiness to everything; the table spread for the evening meal; the\ngroup at the fireside; and his dear helpmate who was responsible for\nthe comfort and happiness of his well-appointed home.\n\nHe was followed in a moment by Cousin Minnie, the bright-faced young\ngoverness. Their coming caused a stir among the children. Little Jan\nslowly withdrew his gaze from the fire, and, with more energy than\nmight have been expected from his dreamy look, pushed and prodded\nthe sleeping terrier along the rustbank so as to make room for\nCousin Minnie.\n\nPietie sprang to his father's side. \"Now may I go and call Outa\nKarel?\" he asked eagerly, and at an acquiescent \"Yes, my boy,\" away\nhe sped.\n\nIt was a strange figure that came at his bidding, shuffling, stooping,\nhalting, and finally emerging into the firelight. A stranger might have\nbeen forgiven for fleeing in terror, for the new arrival looked like\nnothing so much as an ancient and muscular gorilla in man's clothes,\nand walking uncertainly on its hind legs.\n\nHe was not quite four feet in height, with shoulders and hips\ndisproportionately broad, and long arms, the hands of which reached\nmidway between knee and ankle. His lower limbs were clothed in\nnondescript garments fashioned from wildcat and dassie skins; a\nfaded brown coat, which from its size had evidently once belonged\nto his master, hung nearly to his knees; while, when he removed his\nshapeless felt hat, a red kopdoek was seen to be wound tightly round\nhis head. No one had ever seen Outa Karel without his kopdoek, but\nit was reported that the head it covered was as smooth and devoid of\nhair as an ostrich egg.\n\nHis yellow-brown face was a network of wrinkles, across which his flat\nnose sprawled broadly between high cheekbones; his eyes, sunk far back\ninto his head, glittered dark and beady like the little wicked eyes\nof a snake peeping from the shadow of a hole in the rocks. His wide\nmouth twisted itself into an engaging grin, which extended from ear\nto ear, as, winking and blinking his bright little eyes, he twirled\nhis old hat in his claw-like hands and tried to make obeisance to\nhis master and mistress.\n\nThe attempt was unsuccessful on account of the stiffness of his\njoints, but it never failed to amuse those who, times without number,\nhad seen it repeated. To those who witnessed it for the first time it\nwas something to be remembered--the grotesque, disproportionate form;\nthe ape-like face, that yet was so curiously human; the humour and\nkindness that gleamed from the cavernous eyes, which seemed designed\nto express only malevolence and cunning; the long waving arms and\ncrooked fingers; the yellow skin for all the world like a crumpled\nsheet of india-rubber pulled in a dozen different directions.\n\nThat he was a consummate actor, and, not to put too fine a point on\nit, an old humbug of the first water, goes without saying, for these\ncharacteristics are inherent in the native nature. But in spite of\nthis, and the uncanniness of his appearance, there was something\nabout Outa Karel that drew one to him. Of his real devotion to his\nmaster and the \"beautiful family Van der Merwe,\" there could be no\nquestion; while, above everything, was the feeling that here was\none of an outcast race, one of the few of the original inhabitants\nwho had survived the submerging tide of civilization; who, knowing\nno law but that of possession, had been scared and chased from their\nhappy hunting grounds, first by the Hottentots, then by the powerful\nBantu, and later by the still more terrifying palefaced tribes from\nover the seas. Though the origin of the Bushman is lost in the mists\nof antiquity, the Hottentot conquest of him is a matter of history,\nand it is well known that the victors were in the habit, while killing\noff the men, to take unto themselves wives from among the women of the\nvanquished race. Hence the fact that a perfect specimen of a Bushman\nis a rara avis, even in the localities where the last remnants are\nknown to linger.\n\nOuta Karel could hardly be called a perfect specimen of the original\nrace, for, though he always spoke of himself as wholly Bushman, there\nwas a strong strain of the Hottentot about him, chiefly noticeable\nin his build.\n\nHe spoke in Dutch, in the curiously expressive voice belonging to\nthese people, just now honey-sweet with the deference he felt for\nhis superiors.\n\n\"Ach toch! Night, Baas. Night, Nooi. Night, Nonnie and my little\nbaasjes. Excuse that this old Bushman does not bend to greet you;\nthe will is there, but his knees are too stiff. Thank you, thank you,\nmy baasje,\" as Pietie dragged a low stool, covered with springbok skin,\nfrom under the desk in the recess and pushed it towards him. He settled\nhimself on it slowly and carefully, with much creaking of joints and\nmany strange native ejaculations.\n\nThe little group had arranged itself anew. Cousin Minnie was in the\ncosy corner of the rustbank near the wall, little Jan next her with\nhis head against her, and Torry's head on his lap--this attention to\nmake up for his late seeming unkindness in pushing him away.\n\nPappa, with his magazine, was at the other end of the rustbank where\nhe could, if he chose, speak to Mamma in a low tone, or peep over to\nsee how her book was getting on. Willem had pushed the basket away\nso as to settle himself more comfortably against Cousin Minnie's knee\nas he sat on the floor, and Pietie was on a small chair just in front\nof the fire.\n\nThe centre of attention was the quaint old native, who, having\nrelegated his duties to his children and grandchildren, lived as\na privileged pensioner in the van der Merwe family he had served so\nfaithfully for three generations. The firelight played over his quaint\nfigure with the weirdest effect, lighting up now one portion of it,\nnow another, showing up his astonishingly small hands and crooked\nfingers, as he pointed and gesticulated incessantly--for these people\nspeak as much by gesture as by sound--and throwing exaggerated shadows\non the wall.\n\nThis was the hour beloved by the children, when the short wintry\nday had ended, and, in the interval between the coming of darkness\nand the evening meal, their dear Outa Karel was allowed in to tell\nthem stories.\n\nAnd weird and wonderful stories they were--tales of spooks and giants,\nof good and bad spirits, of animals that talked, of birds, beasts\nand insects that exercised marvellous influence over the destinies\nof unsuspecting mankind. But most thrilling of all, perhaps, were\nOuta Karel's personal experiences--adventures by veld and krantz with\nlion, tiger, jackal and crocodile, such as no longer fall to the lot\nof mortal man.\n\nThe children would listen, wide-eyed and breathless, and even their\nelders, sparing a moment's attention from book or writing, would feel\na tremor of excitement, unable to determine where reality ended and\nfiction began, so inextricably were they intermingled as this old\nIago of the desert wove his romances.\n\n\"Now, Outa, tell us a nice story, the nicest you know,\" said little\nJan, nestling closer to Cousin Minnie, and issuing his command as\nthe autocrat of the \"One Thousand and One Nights\" might have done.\n\n\"Ach! but klein baas, this stupid old black one knows no new stories,\nonly the old ones of Jakhals and Leeuw, and how can he tell even those\nwhen his throat is dry--ach, so dry with the dust from the kraals?\"\n\nHe forced a gurgling cough, and his small eyes glittered\nexpectantly. Then suddenly he started with well-feigned surprise and\nbeamed on Pietie, who stood beside him with a soopje in the glass\nkept for his especial use.\n\nThis was a nightly performance. The lubrication was never forgotten,\nbut it was often purposely delayed in order to see what pretext\nOuta would use to call attention to the fact of its not having been\noffered. Sore throat, headache, stomach-ache, cold, heat, rheumatism,\nold age, a birthday (invented for the occasion), the killing of a\nsnake or the breaking-in of a young horse--anything served as an\nexcuse for what was a time-honoured custom.\n\n\"Thank you, thank you, mij klein koning. Gezondheid to Baas, Nooi,\nNonnie, and the beautiful family van der Merwe.\" He lifted the glass,\ngulped down the contents, and smacked his lips approvingly. \"Ach! if\na Bushman only had a neck like an ostrich! How good would the soopje\ntaste all the way down! Now I am strong again; now I am ready to tell\nthe story of Jakhals and Oom Leeuw.\"\n\n\"About Oom Leeuw carrying Jakhals on his back?\" asked Willem.\n\n\"No, baasje. This is quite a different one.\"\n\nAnd with many strange gesticulations, imitating every action and\nchanging his voice to suit the various characters, the old man began:\n\n\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nHOW JAKHALS FED OOM LEEUW.\n\n\n\"One day in the early morning, before any people were awake, Jakhals\nwas prowling round and prowling round, looking for something to\neat. Jakhals is not fond of hunting for himself. Oh, no! he likes to\nwait till the hunt is over, so that he can share in the feast without\nhaving had any of the work. He had just dragged himself quietly\nto the top of a kopje--so, my baasjes, so--with his stomach close\nto the ground, and his ears moving backwards and forwards\"--Outa's\nlittle hands, on either side of the kopdoek, suited the action to the\nword--\"to hear the least sound. Then he looked here, he looked there,\nhe looked all around, and yes, truly! whom do you think he saw in\nthe kloof below? No other than Oom Leeuw himself, clawing a nice big\nhamel he had just killed--a Boer hamel, baasjes, with a beautiful\nfat tail. Oh yes, Oom Leeuw had picked out a good one.\n\n\"'Arr\u00e9!' thought Jakhals, 'this is luck,' and he sat still for\na minute, wondering how he could get some of the nice meat for\nhimself. He soon made a plan. A white thing fluttered in a little\nbush near him. It was a piece of paper. He picked it up and folded\nit--so--and so--and so--\" the crooked fingers were very busy--\"till\nit looked like a letter. Then he ran down the kopje in a great hurry\nand called out, 'Good morning, Oom.'\n\n\"'Morning, Neef.'\n\n\"'I see Oom has killed a Boer hamel.'\n\n\"'Yes, Neef, a big fat one.'\n\n\"'Well, here is a letter from Tante,' said Jakhals, giving the piece\nof paper to Leeuw. 'As I was passing she asked me to give it to Oom.'\n\n\"Leeuw took it and turned it this way, that way. He held it far from\nhim, he held it close to his eyes, but he couldn't make it out at\nall. See, baasjes, Leeuw was one of the old-fashioned sort. He grew\nup before there were so many schools and good teachers\"--here Outa's\nbright eyes winked and blinked flatteringly on Cousin Minnie and her\npupils--\"he was not clever; he could not read. But he didn't want\nanyone to know it, so he said:\n\n\"'Jakhals, Oom has forgotten his spectacles; you had better read\nit out.\"\n\n\"'Hm, hm, hm,' said Jakhals, pretending to read. 'Tante says Oom must\nkill a nice fat Boer hamel and send it home at once by me. She and\nthe children are hungry.'\n\n\"'Well, that's all right. Here is the very thing. Tante is not very\nwell. The Jew smouse's donkey she ate the other day disagreed with\nher, so we must coax her a little. I don't want to say anything, but\nyou know a vrouwmens is a dangerous thing when she is in a temper. So\nyou had better take this hamel to her at once, and then you can have\nthe offal for your trouble.\"\n\n\"'Thank you, noble Oom, King of Beasts,' said Jakhals in a fawning\nvoice, promising himself at the same time that he would have something\nmore than the offal. 'How fortunate am I, poor humble creature,\nto have the King for my uncle,' and off he trotted with the sheep.\n\n\"Leeuw prowled further up the kloof, waving his tail from side to\nside.\" Had Outa had a tail he would have wagged it, but, as he had\nnot, his right arm was slowly flourished to and fro to give point\nto his description. \"Here comes a little Steenbokje on its way to a\nveld dam for water. Ach! but it is pretty! It looks here, it looks\nthere, with its large soft eyes. One little front foot is in the air;\nnow it is down; the other goes up; down again. On it comes, slowly,\nslowly\"--Outa's hands, bunched up to resemble the buck's feet,\nillustrated each step, the children following his movements with\nbreathless interest. \"Now it stops to listen.\" Outa was rigid as he\nbent forward to catch the least sound. Suddenly he started violently,\nand the children involuntarily did the same. \"Hark! what was that? What\nis coming? Ach! how Steenbokje skriks and shivers! A terrible form\nblocks the way! Great eyes--cruel eyes burn him with their fire. Now\nhe knows. It is Leeuw!--Leeuw who stands in the path! He growls\nand glares at Steenbokje. Steenbokje cannot turn away. They stare\nat each other--so--just so--\" Outa glares at each fascinated child\nin turn. \"Steenbokje cannot look away, cannot move. He is stiff with\nfright. His blood is cold. His eyes are starting out of his head. And\nthen--voops!\"--the listeners jump as Outa's long arms suddenly swoop\ntowards them--\"one spring and Leeuw is on him. Steenbokje blares--meh,\nmeh, meh--but it is no good. Leeuw tears him and claws him. Tip, tip,\ntip, the red blood drips down; s-s-s-s-s, it runs out like a stream,\nand Leeuw licks it up. There lies pretty little Steenbokje, dead,\ndead.\" Outa's voice trails away faintly.\n\nThe children heave big sighs. Little Jan's grey eyes are full of\ntears. The old native's graphic description has made them feel as\nthough they had been watching round a death-bed.\n\n\"Yes, baasjes, Leeuw killed Steenbokje there in the kloof. He tore\nthe skin off--skr-r-r-r--and bit through the bones--skrnch, skrnch,\nskrnch--and ate little Steenbokje for his breakfast. Then he went to\nthe krantzes to sleep, for the day was coming and the light began to\nhurt his eyes.\n\n\"When he awoke it was evening, and he felt refreshed and rather\nhungry. My baasjes know a steenbokje is nothing for a meal for Oom\nLeeuw. But before hunting again he thought he would go home and see\nhow Tante and the children were getting on, and whether they had\nfeasted well on the nice fat hamel.\n\n\"But, dear land! What did poor Oom Leeuw find? The children crying,\nTante spluttering and scratching with rage, everything upside down,\nand not even the bones of the hamel to be seen.\n\n\"'Oh\u00e9! oh\u00e9! oh\u00e9!' cried Tante. 'The bad, wicked Jakhals! Ach, the low,\nveld dog!'\n\n\"'But what is the matter?' asked Leeuw. 'Where is Jakhals?'\n\n\"'Where is he? How should I know? He has run off with the nice fat\nhamel, and me--yes, me, the King's wife--has he beaten with the\nentrails! Oh\u00e9! oh\u00e9!'\n\n\"'And boxed my ears!' cried one of the cubs. 'Wah! wah! wah!'\n\n\"'And pinched my tail,' roared the other. 'Weh! weh! weh!'\n\n\"'And left us nothing but the offal. Oh, the cunning, smooth-tongued\nvagabond!'\n\n\"And all three fell to weeping and wailing, while Leeuw roared aloud\nin his anger.\n\n\"'Wait a bit, I'll get him,' he said. 'Before the world wakes to-morrow\nhe'll see who's baas.'\n\n\"He waved his tail to and fro and stuck out his strong claws. His eyes\nglared like fire in a dark kloof when there is no moon, and when he\nbrulled it was very terrible to hear--hoor-r-r-r-r, hoor-r-r-r-r,\"\nand Outa gave vent to several deep, blood-curdling roars.\n\n\"Very early the next morning, when only a little grey in the sky\nshewed that the night was rolling round to the other side of the\nworld, Leeuw took his strongest sjambok and started off to look for\nJakhals. He spied him at last on the top of a krantz sitting by a\nfire with his wife and children.\n\n\"'Ah! there you are, my fine fellow,' he thought. 'Well and happy\nare you? But wait, I'll soon show you!'\n\n\"He began at once to try and climb the krantz, but it was very\nsteep and high, and so smooth that there was nothing for him to hold\nto. Every time he got up a little way, his claws just scratched along\nthe hard rock and he came sailing down again. At last he thought,\n'Well, as I can't climb up, I'll pretend to be nice and friendly,\nand then perhaps Jakhals will come down. I'll ask him to go hunting\nwith me.'\"\n\nHere Outa's beady little eyes danced mischievously. \"Baasjes know,\nthe only way to get the better of a schelm is to be schelm, too. When\nanyone cheats, you must cheat more, or you will never be baas. Ach,\nyes! that is the only way.\"\n\n(Cousin Minnie would not disturb the course of the tale, but she\nmentally prescribed and stored up for future use an antidote to this\npagan and wordly-wise piece of advice to her pupils.)\n\n\"So Leeuw stood at the foot of the krantz and called out quite friendly\nand kind, 'Good morning, Neef Jakhals.'\n\n\"'Morning, Oom.'\n\n\"'I thought you might like to go hunting with me, but I see you\nare busy.'\n\n\"At any other time Jakhals would have skipped with delight, for it was\nvery seldom he had the honour of such an invitation, but now he was\nblown up with conceit at having cheated Oom and Tante Leeuw so nicely.\n\n\"'Thank you, Oom, but I am not in want of meat just now. I'm busy\ngrilling some nice fat mutton chops for breakfast. Won't you come\nand have some, too?'\n\n\"'Certainly, with pleasure, but this krantz is so steep--how can I\nget up?'\n\n\"'Ach! that's quite easy, Oom. I'll pull you up in an eye-wink. Here,\nvrouw, give me a nice thick riem. That old rotten one that is nearly\nrubbed through,' he said in a whisper to his wife.\n\n\"So Mrs. Jakhals, who was as slim as her husband, brought the bad riem,\nand they set to work to pull Oom Leeuw up. 'Hoo-ha! hoo-ha!' they\nsang as they slowly hauled away.\n\n\"When he was about ten feet from the ground, Jakhals called out,\n'Arr\u00e9! but Oom is heavy,' and he pulled the riem this way and\nthat way along the sharp edge of the krantz\"--Outa vigorously\ndemonstrated--\"till it broke right through and--kabloops!--down fell\nOom Leeuw to the hard ground below.\n\n\"'Oh! my goodness! What a terrible fall! I hope Oom is not hurt. How\nstupid can a vrouwmens be! To give me an old riem when I called for\nthe best! Now, here is a strong one. Oom can try again.'\n\n\"So Leeuw tried again, and again, and again, many times over, but\neach time the rope broke and each time his fall was greater, because\nJakhals always pulled him up a little higher, and a little higher. At\nlast he called out:\n\n\"'It's very kind of you, Jakhals, but I must give it up.'\n\n\"'Ach! but that's a shame!' said Jakhals, pretending to be sorry. 'The\ncarbonaatjes are done to a turn, and the smell--alle wereld! it's\nfine! Shall I throw Oom down a piece of the meat?'\n\n\"'Yes please, Jakhals,' said Leeuw eagerly, licking his lips. 'I have\na big hole inside me and some carbonaatjes will fill it nicely.'\n\n\"Ach! my baasjes, what did cunning Jakhals do? He carefully raked a\nred-hot stone out of the fire and wrapped a big piece of fat round\nit. Then he peered over the edge of the krantz and saw Leeuw waiting\nimpatiently.\n\n\"'Now Oom,' he called, 'open your mouth wide and I'll drop this\nin. It's such a nice big one, I bet you won't want another.'\n\n\"And when he said this, Jakhals chuckled, while Mrs. Jakhals and the\nlittle ones doubled up with silent laughter at the great joke.\n\n\"'Are you ready, Oom?'\n\n\"'Grr-r-r-r-r!' gurgled Leeuw. He had his mouth wide open to catch\nthe carbonaatje, and he would not speak for fear of missing it.\n\n\"Jakhals leaned over and took aim. Down fell the tit-bit\nand--sluk! sluk!--Leeuw had swallowed it.\n\n\"And then, my baasjes, there arose such a roaring and raving and\ngroaning as had not been heard since the hills were made. The dassies\ncrept along the rocky ledges far above, and peeped timidly down; the\ncircling eagles swooped nearer to find out the cause; the meerkats\nand ant-bears, the porcupines and spring-hares snuggled further into\ntheir holes; while the frightened springboks and elands fled swiftly\nover the plain to seek safety in some other veld.\n\n\"Only wicked Jakhals and his family rejoiced. With their bushy tails\nwaving and their pointed ears standing up, they danced round the fire,\nholding hands and singing over and over:\n\n\n\n    \"'Arr\u00e9! who is stronger than the King of Beastland?\n    Arr\u00e9! who sees further than the King of Birdland?\n    Who but thick-tailed Jakhals, but the Silver-maned One?\n    He, the small but sly one; he, the wise Planmaker.\n    King of Beasts would catch him; catch him, claw him, kill him!\n    Ha! ha! ha! would catch him! Ha! ha! ha! would kill him!\n    But he finds a way out; grills the fat-tailed hamel,\n    Feeds the King of Beastland with the juicy tit-bits;\n    Eats the fat-tailed hamel while the King lies dying;\n    Ha! ha! ha! lies dying! Ha! ha! ha! lies dead now!'\"\n\n\n\nOuta crooned the Jakhals' triumph song in a weird monotone, and on\nthe last words his voice quavered out, leaving a momentary silence\namong the small folk.\n\nPietie blinked as though the firelight were too much for his\neyes. Little Jan sighed tumultuously. Willem cleared his throat.\n\n\"But how did Jakhals know that Oom Leeuw was dead?\" he asked suddenly.\n\n\"He peeped over the krantz every time between the dancing and\nsinging--like this, baasje, just like this.\" Outa's eyes, head and\nhands were at work. \"The first time he looked, he saw Oom Leeuw rolling\nover and over; the next time Leeuw was scratching, scratching at the\nrocky krantz; then he was digging into the ground with his claws;\nthen he was only blowing himself out--so--with long slow breaths;\nbut the last time he was lying quite still, and then Jakhals knew.\"\n\n\"Oh! I didn't want poor Steenbokje to die,\" said little Jan. \"He\nwas such a pretty little thing. Outa, this is not one of your nicest\nstories.\"\n\n\"It's all about killing,\" said Pietie. \"First Leeuw killed poor\nSteenbokje, who never did him any harm, and then Jakhals killed Oom\nLeeuw, who never did him any harm. It was very cruel and wicked.\"\n\n\"Ach yes, baasjes,\" explained Outa, apologetically, \"we don't know\nwhy, but it is so. Sometimes the good ones are killed and the bad\nones grow fat. In this old world it goes not always so's it must go;\nit just go so's it goes.\"\n\n\"But,\" persisted Pietie, \"you oughtn't to have let Jakhals kill\nOom Leeuw. Oom Leeuw was much stronger, so he ought to have killed\nnaughty Jakhals.\"\n\nOuta's eyes gleamed pityingly. These young things! What did they know\nof the ups and downs of a hard world where the battle is not always\nto the strong, nor the race to the swift?\n\n\"But, my baasje, Outa did not make up the story. He only put in little\nbits, like the newspaper and the spectacles and the Jew smouse, that\nare things of to-day. But the real story was made long, long ago,\nperhaps when baasje's people went about in skins like the Rooi Kafirs,\nand Outa's people were still monkeys in the bushveld. It has always\nbeen so, and it will always be so--in the story and in the old wicked\nworld. It is the head, my baasjes, the head,\" he tapped his own, \"and\nnot the strong arms and legs and teeth, that makes one animal master\nover another. Ach yes! if the Bushman's head had been the same as the\nwhite man's, arr\u00e9! what a fight there would have been between them!\"\n\nAnd lost in the astonishing train of thought called up by this\nidea, he sat gazing out before him with eyes which saw many strange\nthings. Then, rousing himself, with a quick change of voice and\nmanner, \"Ach! please, Nooi!\" he said in a wheedling tone, \"a span of\ntobacco--just one little span for to-night and to-morrow.\"\n\nHis mistress laughed indulgently, and, unhooking the bunch of keys\nfrom her belt, handed them to Cousin Minnie. \"The old sinner!\" she\nsaid. \"We all spoil him, and yet who could begin to be strict with\nhim now? Only a small piece, Minnie.\"\n\n\"Thank you, thank you, my Nonnie,\" said the old man, holding out both\nhands, and receiving the coveted span as if it were something very\nprecious. \"That's my young lady! Nonnie can have Outa's skeleton when\nhe is dead. Yes, it will be a fine skeleton for Nonnie to send far\nacross the blue water, where she sent the old long-dead Bushman's\nbones. Ach foei! all of him went into a little soap boxie--just to\nthink of it! a soap boxie!\"\n\nHe started as a young coloured girl made her appearance. \"O mij\nlieve! here is Lys already. How the time goes when a person is with\nthe baasjes and the noois! Night, Baas; night, Nooi; night, Nonnie and\nlittle masters. Sleep well! Ach! the beautiful family Van der Merwe!\"\n\nHis thanks, farewells and flatteries grew fainter and fainter, and\nfinally died away in the distance, as his granddaughter led him away.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nWHO WAS KING?\n\n\n\"Once upon a time,\" began Outa Karel, and his audience of three looked\nup expectantly.\n\n\"Once upon a time, Oom Leeuw roared and the forest shook with the\ndreadful sound. Then, from far away over the vlakte, floated another\nroar, and the little lion cubs jumped about and stood on their heads,\ntumbling over each other in their merriment.\n\n\"'Hear,' they said, 'it is Volstruis, old Three Sticks. He tries\nto imitate the King, our father. He roars well. Truly there is no\ndifference.'\n\n\"When Leeuw heard this he was very angry, so he roared again, louder\nthan ever. Again came back the sound over the veld, as if it had been\nan echo.\n\n\"'Ach, no! this will never do,' thought Leeuw. 'I must put a stop to\nthis impudence. I alone am King here, and imitators--I want none.'\n\n\"So he went forth and roamed over the vlakte till he met old Three\nSticks, the Ostrich. They stood glaring at each other.\n\n\"Leeuw's eyes flamed, his mane rose in a huge mass and he lashed\nhis tail angrily. Volstruis spread out his beautiful wings and\nswayed from side to side, his beak open and his neck twisting like\na whip-snake. Ach! it was pretty, but if baasjes could have seen his\neyes! Baasjes know, Volstruis's eyes are very soft and beautiful--like\nNonnie's when she tells the Bible stories; but now there was only\nfierceness in them, and yellow lights that looked like fire.\n\n\"But there was no fight--yet. It was only their way of meeting. Leeuw\ncame a step nearer and said, 'We must see who is baas. You, Volstruis,\nplease to roar a little.'\n\n\"So Volstruis roared, blowing out his throat, so,\n'Hoo-hoo-hoor-r-r-r!' It was a fearsome sound--the sort of sound\nthat makes you feel streams of cold water running down your back\nwhen you hear it suddenly and don't know what it is. Yes, baasjes,\nif you are in bed you curl up and pull the blankets over your head,\nand if you are outside you run in and get close to the Nooi or Nonnie.\"\n\nA slight movement, indicative of contradiction, passed from one to\nanother of his small hearers, but--unless it was a free and easy,\nconversational evening--they made it a point of honour never to\ninterrupt Outa in full career. This, like other things, could await\nthe finish of the story.\n\n\"Then Leeuw roared, and truly the voices were the same. No one\ncould say, 'This is a bigger voice,' or 'That is a more terrifying\nvoice.' No, they were just equal.\n\n\"So Leeuw said to Volstruis, 'Our voices are alike. You are my equal\nin roaring. Let it then be so. You will be King of the Birds as I am\nKing of the Beasts. Now let us go hunting and see who is baas there.'\n\n\"Out in the vlakte some sassaby [1] were feeding, big fat ones, a nice\nklompje; so Leeuw started off in one direction and Volstruis in the\nother, but both kept away from the side the wind came from. Wild bucks\ncan smell--ach toch! so good. Just one little puff when a hunter is\ncreeping up to them, and at once all the heads are in the air--sniff,\nsniff, sniff--and they are off like the wind. Dust is all you see,\nand when that has blown away--ach no! there are no bucks; the whole\nveld is empty, empty!\"\n\nOuta stretched out his arms and waved them from side to side with an\nexaggerated expression of finding nothing but empty space, his voice\nmournful with a sense of irreparable loss.\n\n\"But\"--he took up his tale with renewed energy--\"Leeuw and Volstruis\nwere old hunters. They knew how to get nearer and nearer without\nletting the bucks know. Leeuw trailed himself along slowly, slowly,\nclose to the ground, and only when he was moving could you see which\nwas Leeuw and which was sand: the colour was just the same.\n\n\"He picked out a big buck, well-grown and fat, but not too old to\nbe juicy, and when he got near enough he hunched himself up very\nquietly--so, my little masters, just so--ready to spring, and then\nbefore you could whistle, he shot through the air like a stone from\na catapult, and fell, fair and square, on to the sassaby's back,\nhis great tearing claws fastened on its shoulders and his wicked\nteeth meeting in the poor thing's neck.\n\n\"Ach! the beautiful big buck! Never again would his pointed horns\ntear open his enemies! Never again would he lead the herd, or pronk\nin the veld in mating time! Never again would his soft nostrils scent\ndanger in the distance, nor his quick hoofs give the signal for the\nstampede! No, it was really all up with him this time! When Oom Leeuw\ngets hold of a thing, he doesn't let go till it is dead.\n\n\"The rest of the herd--ach, but they ran! Soon they were far away,\nonly specks in the distance; all except those that Volstruis\nhad killed. Truly Volstruis was clever! Baasjes know, he can run\nfast--faster even than the sassaby. So when he saw Leeuw getting\nready to spring, he raced up-wind as hard as he could, knowing that\nwas what the herd would do. So there he was waiting for them, and\ndidn't he play with them! See, baasjes, he stood just so\"--in his\nexcitement Outa rose and struck an attitude--\"and when they streaked\npast him he jumped like this, striking at them with the hard, sharp\nclaws on his old two toes.\" Outa hopped about like a fighting bantam,\nwhile the children hugged themselves in silent delight.\n\n\"Voerts! there was one dead!\"--Outa kicked to the right. \"Voerts! there\nwas another!\"--he kicked to the left--\"till there was a klomp of bucks\nlying about the veld giving their last blare. Yes, old Two Toes did\nhis work well that day.\n\n\"When Leeuw came up and saw that Volstruis had killed more than he had,\nhe was not very pleased, but Volstruis soon made it all right.\n\n\"Leeuw said, 'You have killed most, so you rip open and begin to eat.'\n\n\"'Oh no!' said Volstruis, 'you have cubs to share the food with,\nso you rip open and eat. I shall only drink the blood.'\n\n\"This put Leeuw in a good humour; he thought Volstruis a noble,\nunselfish creature. But truly, as I said before, Volstruis was\nclever. Baasjes see, he couldn't eat meat; he had no teeth. But he\ndidn't want Leeuw to know. Therefore he said, 'You eat; I will only\ndrink the blood.'\n\n\"So Leeuw ripped open--sk-r-r-r-r, sk-r-r-r-r--and called the cubs,\nand they all ate till they were satisfied. Then Volstruis came along\nin a careless fashion, pecking, pecking as he walked, and drank the\nblood. Then he and Leeuw lay down in the shade of some trees and went\nto sleep.\n\n\"The cubs played about, rolling and tumbling over each other. As they\nplayed they came to the place where Volstruis lay.\n\n\"'Aha!' said one, 'he sleeps with his mouth open.'\n\n\"He peeped into Volstruis's mouth. 'Aha!' he said again, 'I see\nsomething.'\n\n\"Another cub came and peeped.\n\n\"'Alle kracht!' he said, 'I see something too. Let us go and tell\nour father.'\n\n\"So they ran off in great excitement and woke Leeuw. 'Come, come\nquickly,' they said. 'Volstruis insults you by saying he is your\nequal. He lies sleeping under the trees with his mouth wide open,\nand we have peeped into it, and behold, he has no teeth! Come and\nsee for yourself.'\n\n\"Leeuw bounded off quick-quick with the cubs at his tail.\n\n\"'Nier-r-r-r,' he growled, waking Volstruis, 'nier-r-r-r. What is\nthe meaning of this? You pretend you are my equal, and you haven't\neven got teeth.'\n\n\"'Teeth or no teeth,' said Volstruis, standing up wide awake,\n'I killed more bucks than you did to-day. Teeth or no teeth, I'll\nfight you to show who's baas.'\n\n\"'Come on,' said Leeuw. 'Who's afraid? I'm just ready for you. Come\non!'\n\n\"'No, wait a little,' said Volstruis. 'I've got a plan. You see that\nant-heap over there? Well, you stand on one side of it, and I'll stand\non the other side, and we'll see who can push it over first. After\nthat we'll come out into the open and fight.'\n\n\"'That seems an all-right plan,' said Leeuw; and he thought to himself,\n'I'm heavier and stronger; I can easily send the ant-heap flying on\nto old Three Sticks, and then spring over and kill him.'\n\n\"But wait a bit! It was not as easy as he thought. Every time he sprang\nat the ant-heap he clung to it as he was accustomed to cling to his\nprey. He had no other way of doing things. And then Volstruis would\ntake the opportunity of kicking high into the air, sending the sand and\nstones into Leeuw's face, and making him howl and splutter with rage.\n\n\"Sometimes he would stand still and roar, and Volstruis would send\na roar back from the other side.\n\n\"So they went on till the top of the ant-heap was quite loosened\nby the kicks and blows. Leeuw was getting angrier and angrier,\nand he could hardly see--his eyes were so full of dust. He gathered\nhimself together for a tremendous spring, but, before he could make\nit, Volstruis bounded into the air and kicked the whole top off the\nant-heap. Arr\u00e9, but the dust was thick!\n\n\"When it cleared away, there lay Leeuw, groaning and coughing, with\nthe great heap of earth and stones on top of him.\n\n\"'Oh\u00e9! oh\u00e9!' wailed the cubs, 'get up, my father. Here he comes, the\nToothless One! He who has teeth only on his feet! Get up and slay him.'\n\n\"Leeuw shook himself free of the earth and sprang at Volstruis, but his\neyes were full of sand; he could not see properly, so he missed. As he\ncame down heavily, Volstruis shot out his strong right leg and caught\nLeeuw in the side. Sk-r-r-r-r! went the skin, and goops! goops! over\nfell poor Oom Leeuw, with Volstruis's terrible claws--the teeth of\nold Two Toes--fastened into him.\n\n\"Volstruis danced on him, flapping and waving his beautiful black\nand white wings, and tearing the life out of Oom Leeuw.\n\n\"When it was all over, he cleaned his claws in the sand and waltzed\naway slowly over the veld to where his mate sat on the nest.\n\n\"Only the cubs were left wailing over the dead King of the Forest.\"\n\n\n\nThe usual babel of question and comment broke out at the close of the\nstory, till at last Pietie's decided young voice detached itself from\nthe general chatter.\n\n\"Outa, what made you say that about pulling the blankets over one's\nhead and running to get near Mammie if one heard Volstruis bellowing\nat night? You know quite well that none of us would ever do it.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, my baasje, I know,\" said Outa, soothingly. \"I never meant\nanyone who belongs to the land of Volstruise. But other little masters,\nwho did not know the voice of old Three Sticks--they would run to\ntheir mam-mas if they heard him.\"\n\n\"Oh, I see,\" said Pietie, accepting the apology graciously. \"I was\nsure you could not mean a karroo farm boy.\"\n\n\"Is your story a parable, Outa?\" asked little Jan, who had been doing\nsome hard thinking for the last minute.\n\n\"Ach! and what is that, my little master?\"\n\n\"A kind of fable, Outa.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's what it is, baasje,\" said Outa, gladly seizing on the\nword he understood, \"a fable, a sort of nice little fable.\"\n\n\"But a parable is an earthly story with a heavenly meaning, and when\nCousin Minnie tells us parables she always finds the meaning for\nus. What is the heavenly meaning of this, Outa?\"\n\nLittle Jan's innocent grey eyes were earnestly fixed on Outa's face,\nas though to read from it the explanation he sought. For once the\nold native was nonplussed. He rubbed his red kopdoek, laid a crooked\nfinger thoughtfully against his flat nose, scratched his sides,\nmonkey-fashion, and finally had recourse once more to the kopdoek. But\nall these expedients failed to inspire him with the heavenly meaning\nof the story he had just told. Ach! these dear little ones, to think\nof such strange things! There they all were, waiting for his next\nwords. He must get out of it somehow.\n\n\"Baasjes,\" he began, smoothly, \"there is a beautiful meaning to the\nstory, but Outa hasn't got time to tell it now. Another time----\"\n\n\"Outa,\" broke in Willem, reprovingly, \"you know you only want to get\naway so that you can go to the old tramp-floor, where the volk are\ndancing to-night.\"\n\n\"No, my baasje, truly no!\"\n\n\"And I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you had danced, too, after\nthe way you have been jumping about here.\"\n\n\"Yes, that was fine,\" said Pietie, with relish. \"'Voerts! there is\none dead! Voerts! there is another!' Outa, you always say you are so\nstiff, but you can still kick well.\"\n\n\"Aja, baasje,\" returned Outa, modestly; \"in my day I was a great\ndancer. No one could do the Vastrap better--and the Hondekrap--and\nthe Valsrivier. Arr\u00e9, those were the times!\"\n\nHe gave a little hop at the remembrance of those mad and merry days,\nand yet another and another, always towards the passage leading to\nthe kitchen.\n\n\"But the meaning, Outa, the heavenly meaning!\" cried little Jan. \"You\nhaven't told us.\"\n\n\"No, my little baas, not to-night. Ask the Nonnie; she will tell\nyou. Here she comes.\"\n\nAnd as Cousin Minnie entered the room, the wily old native, with\nan agility not to be expected from his cramped and crooked limbs,\nskipped away, leaving her to bear the brunt of his inability to\nexplain his own story.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nWHY THE HYENA IS LAME.\n\n\n\"It was Tante Hyena that Jakhals cheated more than anyone,\" said\nOuta. \"She always forgot about the last time he had played a trick\non her, so she was quite ready to believe him when he came along with\nanother story. Some people are so, my baasjes. P'raps it's kindness,\np'raps it's only stupidness; Outa doesn't know.\n\n\"One day Jakhals and Hyena were out walking together when a white\ncloud came up behind the kopjes and floated over the veld quite close\nto them. It was a nice thick cloud, just like white fat, and Jakhals\nclimbed on to it and sat looking down over the edge. Then he bit\npieces out of it, and ate them.\n\n\"'Arr\u00e9! but this white fat is nice,' he said. 'N-yum, n-yum, n-yum,'\nand he chewed round the cloud like a caterpillar chews a leaf.\n\n\"Hyena licked her lips and looked up at him.\n\n\"'Throw me down some, please,' she said.\n\n\"'Ach! my Brown Sister, will I then be so greedy as to throw you down\nlittle bits? Wait till I get down, and then I'll help you up to eat\nfor yourself. But come a little nearer so that you can catch me when\nI jump.'\n\n\"So Hyena stood ready, and Jakhals jumped in such a way that he\nknocked her into the sand. He fell soft, because he was on top, but\nfoei! poor Hyena had all the breath knocked out of her and she was\ncovered with dust.\n\n\"'Ach! but I am clumsy!' said Jakhals; 'but never mind, now I'll\nhelp you.'\n\n\"So when she had got up and dusted herself, he helped her to climb\non to the cloud. There she sat, biting pieces off and eating them,\n'N-yum, n-yum, n-yum, it's just like white fat!'\n\n\"After a time she called out, 'Grey Brother, I've had enough. I want\nto come down. Please catch me when I jump.'\n\n\"'Ach, certainly Brown Sister, come on. Just see how nicely I'll\ncatch you. So-o-o.'\n\n\"He held out his arms, but just as Hyena jumped he sprang to one side,\ncalling out, 'Ola! Ola! a thorn has pricked me. What shall I do? what\nshall I do?' and he hopped about holding one leg up.\n\n\"Woops! Down fell Brown Sister, and as she fell she put out her\nleft leg to save herself, but it doubled up under her and was nearly\nbroken. She lay in a bundle in the sand, crying, 'My leg is cracked! my\nleg is cracked!'\n\n\"Jakhals came along very slowly--jump, jump, on three legs. Surely\nthe thorn, that wasn't there, was hurting him very much!\n\n\"'Oo! oo!' cried Hyena, 'help me up, Grey Brother. My leg is broken.'\n\n\"'And mine has a thorn in it. Foei toch, my poor sister! How can the\nsick help the sick? The only plan is for us to get home in the best\nway we can. Good-bye, and I will visit you to-morrow to see if you\nare all right.'\n\n\"And off he went--jump, jump, on three legs--very slowly; but as\nsoon as Old Brown Sister could not see him, he put down the other\none and--sh-h-h-h--he shot over the veld and got home just in time to\nhave a nice supper of young ducks that Mrs. Jakhals and the children\nhad caught at Oubaas van Niekerk's dam.\n\n\"But poor Brown Sister lay in the sand crying over her sore places,\nand from that day she walks lame, because her left hind foot is\nsmaller than the right one.\" [2]\n\n\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nWHO WAS THE THIEF?\n\n\n\"Yes, my baasjes, so was Oom Jakhals: he always made as if he forgot\nall about what he had done, and he made as if he thought all the\nothers forgot too, quick-quick. He is maar so schelm.\"\n\nHere Outa took full advantage of the pinch of snuff he held between\nhis right forefinger and thumb, sneezed with evident enjoyment two\nor three times, and continued:\n\n\"When Jakhals thought Hyena was quite well, he went to visit her.\n\n\"'It's very dull here in the veld,' he said, 'and food is so scarce,\nso I'm going to hire myself to a farmer. He'll give me lots to eat\nand drink, and when I'm nice and fat I'll come home again. Would you\nlike to go too, Brown Sister?'\n\n\"Hyena smacked her lips when she heard about the nice things to\neat. She thought it a very good plan. So they went to a farm, and\nJakhals talked so nicely that the farmer hired them both to work\nfor him.\n\n\"Ach! it was a beautiful place; lots of chickens and little ducks,\nand Afrikander sheep with large fat tails that could be melted out\nfor soap and candles, and eggs, and doves and pigeons--all things\nthat Jakhals liked. He just felt in his stomach that he was going to\nhave a jolly life.\n\n\"During the day Jakhals peeped all about, in this corner, in that\ncorner, and he found out where the farmer kept the nice fat that was\nmelted out of the sheep's tails. In the middle of the night, when all\nthe people were fast asleep, he got up and went quietly, my baasjes,\nquietly, like a shadow on the ground, to the place where the fat\nwas. He took a big lump and smeared it all over Brown Sister's tail\nwhile she was asleep. Then he ate all that was left--n-yum, n-yum,\nn-yum--and went to sleep in the waggon-house.\n\n\"Early in the morning, when the farmer went out to milk the cows,\nhe missed the fat.\n\n\"'Lieve land! Where is all my fat?' he said. 'It must be that vagabond\nJakhals. But wait, I'll get him!'\n\n\"He took a thick riem and his sjambok, and went to the waggon-house\nto catch Jakhals and give him a beating. But when he asked about the\nfat, Jakhals spoke in a little, little voice.\n\n\"'Ach no, Baas! Would I then do such an ugly thing? And look at my\ntail. There's no fat on it. The one whose tail is full of fat is\nthe thief.'\n\n\"He turned round and waved his tail in the farmer's face, and anyone\ncould easily see that there was no fat on it.\n\n\"'But the fat is gone,' said the farmer, 'someone must have stolen it,'\nand he went on hunting, hunting in the waggon-house.\n\n\"At last he came to where Hyena was sleeping, just like a baby,\nbaasjes, so nicely, and snoring a little: not the loud snoring like\nsawing planks--gorr-korrr, gorr-korr--but nice soft snoring like people\ndo when they sleep very fast--see-uw, see-uw. It is the deepest sleep\nwhen a person snores see-uw, see-uw. Hyena's head was on some chaff,\nand her tail was sticking out behind her, stiff with fat!\n\n\"'Aha! here is the thief,' said the farmer, and he began to tie the\nriem round her.\n\n\"Old Brown Sister sat up and rubbed her eyes. 'What's the matter?' she\nasked. 'I had a beautiful dream. I dreamt I was eating fat the whole\nnight, and----'\n\n\"'And so you were--my fat,' said the farmer, and he pulled the rope\ntighter. 'And now I'm going to teach you not to steal again.'\n\n\"Poor old Brown Sister jumped about when she found out what he was\ngoing to do; she ran round and round the waggon-house trying to get\naway; she called out, and she called out that she did not know about\nthe fat, that she had never tasted it, and had never even seen it. But\nit was no good.\n\n\"'Look at your tail,' said the farmer. 'Will you tell me that your\ntail went by itself and rubbed itself in the fat?'\n\n\"So he tied her to the waggon wheel and beat her, and beat\nher--ach! she was quite sore--and she screamed and screamed, and at\nlast he drove her away from the farm.\n\n\"Poor old Brown Sister! She didn't even have the fat from her tail to\neat, because, baasjes see, with the running round and the beating,\nit was all rubbed off. But she never went to live on a farm again;\nthe veld was quite good enough for her.\"\n\n\"Is that the end, Outa?\" asked Willem.\n\n\"Yes, my baasje. It's a bad end, but Outa can't help it. It does maar\nend so.\"\n\n\"And where was Jakhals all the time?\" enquired Pietie, severely.\n\n\"Jakhals, my baasje, was sitting on the waggon saying his prayers--so,\nmy baasjes.\" Outa put his crooked hands together and cast his twinkling\neyes upwards till only the yellows showed.\n\n\n        \"'Bezie, bezie, brame,\n        Hou jouw handjes same.' [3]\n\n\n\"And every time Hyena screamed, Jakhals begged her not to steal again,\nbut to try and behave like a good Christian.\"\n\n\"But Jakhals was the thief,\" said little Jan, indignantly. \"He was\nalways the wicked one, and he was never punished. How was that, Outa?\"\n\nA whimsical smile played over the old man's face, and though his eyes\ndanced as wickedly as ever, his voice was sober as he answered.\n\n\"Ach! my little master, how can Outa tell? It is maar so in this\nold world. It's like the funny thing Baas Willem saw in the Kaap,\n[4] that runs down a place so quickly that it just runs up on the\nother side, and then it can't stop, but it has to run down again,\nand so it keeps on--up and down, up and down.\"\n\n\"You mean the switchback?\" asked Willem.\n\n\"Ach, yes! baasje, Outa means so. And in the world it is the same--up\nand down, up and down. And often the good ones are down and the bad\nones are up. But the thing--Outa can't get the name right--goes on,\nand it goes on, and by-and-by the good ones are up and the bad ones\nare down.\"\n\n\"But Jakhals seemed always to be up,\" remarked Willem.\n\n\"Yes, my baasje,\" said the old man, soberly. \"Jakhals seemed always to\nbe up. It goes so sometimes, it goes so,\" but his eyes suddenly had\na far-away look, and one could not be certain that he was thinking\nof Jakhals.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE SUN.\n\nA BUSHMAN LEGEND.\n\n\nOuta, having disposed of his nightly tot, held his crooked hands\ntowards the cheerful blaze and turned his engaging smile alternately\non it and his little masters.\n\n\"Ach! what it is to keep a bit of the Sun even when the Sun is\ngone! Long ago Outa's people, the Bushmen, did not know about fire. No,\nmy baasjes, when the Big Fire, that makes the world warm and bright,\nwalked across the sky, they were happy. They hunted, and danced,\nand feasted. They shot the fine big bucks with their little poisoned\narrows, and they tore pieces off and ate the flesh with the red blood\ndripping from it: they had no fire to make it dry up. And the roots\nand eintjes that they dug out with their sharp stones--those, too, they\nate just as they were. They did not cook, for they did not know how to\nmake fire. But when the white man came, then they learnt. Baasjes see,\nOuta's head is big--bigger than the Baas's head--but that does not\nhelp. It's the inside that matters, and the white man's head inside\nhere\"--Outa tapped his wrinkled forehead--\"Alla! but it can hold a lot!\n\n\"In the olden days, when Outa's people were cold they crept into\ncaves and covered themselves with skins, for they had no fire to sit\nby. Yes, they were sorry when the Old Man in the sky put down his\narms and lay down to sleep.\"\n\n\"What Old Man?\" asked Pietie. \"Do you mean the Sun?\"\n\n\"Aja! Don't baasjes then know that the Sun was once a man? It was\nlong, long ago, before Outa's people lived in the world: perhaps in\nthe days of the Early Race that were before even the Flat Bushmen,\nwho were the first people we really know anything about. In those\ndays at a certain place lived a man, from whose armpits brightness\nstreamed. When he lifted one arm, the place on that side of him was\nlight; when he lifted the other arm, the place on that side of him\nwas light; but when he lifted both arms, the light shone all around\nabout him. But it only shone around the place where he lived; it did\nnot reach to other places.\n\n\"Sometimes the people asked him to stand on a stone, so that his light\ncould go farther; and sometimes he climbed on a kopje and lifted up\nhis arms: ach! then the light streamed out far, far, and lighted up\nthe veld for miles and miles. For the higher he went, the farther\nthe light shone.\n\n\"Then the people said: 'We see now, the higher he goes the farther\nhis light shines. If only we could put him very high, his light would\ngo out over the whole world.'\n\n\"So they tried to make a plan, and at last a wise old woman called the\nyoung people together and said: 'You must go to this man from whose\narmpits the light streams. When he is asleep, you must go; and the\nstrongest of you must take him under the armpits, and lift him up,\nand swing him to and fro--so--so--and throw him as high as you can\ninto the sky, so that he may be above the kopjes, lifting his arms\nto let the light stream down to warm the earth and make green things\nto grow in summer.'\n\n\"So the young men went to the place where the man lay sleeping. Quietly\nthey went, my baasjes, creeping along in the red sand so as not\nto wake him. He was in a deep sleep, and before he could wake the\nstrong young men took him under the armpits and swung him to and fro,\nas the wise old woman had told them. Then, as they swung him, they\nthrew him into the air, high, high, and there he stuck.\n\n\"The next morning, when he awoke and stretched himself, lifting up\nhis arms, the light streamed out from under them and brightened all\nthe world, warming the earth, and making the green things grow. And\nso it went on day after day. When he put up his arms, it was bright,\nit was day. When he put down one arm, it was cloudy, the weather\nwas not clear. And when he put down both arms and turned over to go\nto sleep, there was no light at all: it was dark; it was night. But\nwhen he awoke and lifted his arms, the day came again and the world\nwas warm and bright.\n\n\"Sometimes he is far away from the earth. Then it is cold: it is\nwinter. But when he comes near, the earth gets warm again; the green\nthings grow and the fruit ripens: it is summer. And so it goes on to\nthis day, my baasjes: the day and night, summer and winter, and all\nbecause the Old Man with the bright armpits was thrown into the sky.\"\n\n\"But the Sun is not a man, Outa,\" said downright Willem, \"and he\nhasn't any arms.\"\n\n\"No, my baasje, not now. He is not a man any more. But baasjes\nmust remember how long he has been up in the sky--spans, and spans,\nand spans of years, always rolling round, and rolling round, from\nthe time he wakes in the morning till he lies down to sleep at the\nother side of the world. And with the rolling, baasjes, he has got\nall rounder and rounder, and the light that at first came only from\nunder his arms has been rolled right round him, till now he is a big\nball of light, rolling from one side of the sky to the other.\"\n\nCousin Minnie, who had been listening in a desultory way to the\nfireside chatter, as she wrote at the side-table, started and leant\ntoward the little group; but a single glance was enough to show that\nso interested were the children in the personal aspect of the tale\nthat there was no fear of confusion arising in their minds from Outa's\ndecided subversion of an elementary fact which she had been at some\npains to get them to understand and accept.\n\n\"And his arms, Outa,\" inquired little Jan, in his earnest way,\n\"do they never come out now?\"\n\nOuta beamed upon him proudly. \"Ach! that is my little master! Always\nto ask a big thing! Yes, baasje, sometimes they come out. When it is\na dark day, then he has put his arms out. He is holding them down,\nand spreading his hands before the light, so that it can't shine on\nthe world. And sometimes, just before he gets up in the morning, and\nbefore he goes to sleep at night, haven't baasjes seen long bright\nstripes coming from the round ball of light?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" assented his little listeners, eagerly.\n\n\"Those are the long fingers of the Sun. His arms are rolled up inside\nthe fiery ball, but he sticks his long fingers out and they make\nbright roads into the sky, spreading out all round him. The Old Man\nis peeping at the earth through his fingers. Baasjes must count them\nnext time he sticks them out, and see if they are all there--eight\nlong ones, those are the fingers; and two short ones for the thumbs.\"\n\nOuta's knowledge of arithmetic was limited to the number of his\ncrooked digits, and the smile with which he announced the extent\nof his mathematical attainments was a ludicrous cross between proud\ntriumph and modest reluctance.\n\n\"When he lies down, he pulls them in. Then all the world grows dark\nand the people go to sleep.\"\n\n\"But, Outa, it isn't always dark at night,\" Pietie reminded him. \"There\nare the Stars and the Moon, you know.\"\n\n\"Ach, yes! The little Stars and the Lady Moon. Outa will tell the\nbaasjes about them another night, but now he must go quick--quick and\nlet Lys rub his back with buchu. When friend Old Age comes the back\nbends and the bones get stiff, and the rheumatism--foei! but it can\npinch! Therefore, my baasjes, Outa cooks bossies from the veld to rub\non--buchu and kookamakranka and karroo bossies. They are all good,\nbut buchu is the best. Yes, buchu for the outside, and the Baas's\nfire-water for the inside!\"\n\nHe looked longingly at the cupboard, but wood and glass are\nunresponsive until acted on by human agency; so, possessing no \"Open,\nSesame\" for that unyielding lock, Outa contented himself by smacking\nhis lips as he toddled away.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nTHE STARS AND THE STARS' ROAD.\n\n\nDarkly-blue and illimitable, the arc of the sky hung over the great\nKarroo like a canopy of softest velvet, making a deep, mysterious\nbackground for the myriad stars, which twinkled brightly at a frosty\nworld.\n\nThe three little boys, gathered at the window, pointed out to each\nother the constellations with which Cousin Minnie had made them\nfamiliar, and were deep in a discussion as to the nature and number\nof the stars composing the Milky Way when Outa shuffled in.\n\n\"Outa, do you think there are a billion stars up there in the Milky\nWay?\" asked Willem.\n\n\"A billion, you know,\" explained Pietie, \"is a thousand million,\nand it would take months to count even one million.\"\n\n\"Aja, baasje,\" said the old man readily, seizing, with native\nadroitness, the unknown word and making it his own, \"then there will\nsurely be a billion stars up there. Perhaps,\" he added, judicially\nconsidering the matter, \"two billion, but no one knows, because no\none can ever count them. They are too many. And to think that that\nbright road in the sky is made of wood ashes, after all.\"\n\nHe settled himself on his stool, and his little audience came to\nattention.\n\n\"Yes, my baasjes,\" he went on, \"long, long ago, the sky was dark at\nnight when the Old Man with the bright armpits lay down to sleep,\nbut people learned in time to make fires to light up the darkness;\nand one night a girl, who sat warming herself by a wood fire, played\nwith the ashes. She took the ashes in her hands and threw them up to\nsee how pretty they were when they floated in the air. And as they\nfloated away she put green bushes on the fire and stirred it with a\nstick. Bright sparks flew out and went high, high, mixing with the\nsilver ashes, and they all hung in the air and made a bright road\nacross the sky. And there it is to this day. Baasjes call it the\nMilky Way, but Outa calls it the Stars' Road.\n\n\"Ai! but the girl was pleased! She clapped her hands and danced,\nshaking herself like Outa's people do when they are happy, and\nsinging:--\n\n\n        'The little stars! The tiny stars!\n        They make a road for other stars.\n        Ash of wood-fire! Dust of the Sun!\n        They call the Dawn when Night is done!'\n\n\n\"Then she took some of the roots she had been eating and threw them\ninto the sky, and there they hung and turned into large stars. The\nold roots turned into stars that gave a red light, and the young\nroots turned into stars that gave a golden light. There they all\nhung, winking and twinkling and singing. Yes, singing, my baasjes,\nand this is what they sang:--\n\n\n        'We are children of the Sun!\n          It's so! It's so! It's so!\n        Him we call when Night is done!\n          It's so! It's so! It's so!\n        Bright we sail across the sky\n        By the Stars' Road, high, so high;\n        And we, twinkling, smile at you,\n        As we sail across the blue!\n          It's so! It's so! It's so!'\n\n\n\"Baasjes know, when the stars twinkle up there in the sky they are\nlike little children nodding their heads and saying, 'It's so! It's\nso! It's so!'\" At each repetition Outa nodded and winked, and the\nchildren, with antics of approval, followed suit.\n\n\"Baasjes have sometimes seen a star fall?\" Three little heads nodded\nin concert.\n\n\"When a star falls,\" said the old man impressively, \"it tells us\nsomeone has died. For the star knows when a person's heart fails and\nthe person dies, and it falls from the sky to tell those at a distance\nthat someone they know has died. [5]\n\n\"One star grew and grew till he was much larger than the others. He\nwas the Great Star, and, singing, he named the other stars. He called\neach one by name, till they all had their names, and in this way they\nknew that he was the Great Star. No other could have done so. Then\nwhen he had finished, they all sang together and praised the Great\nStar, who had named them. [6]\n\n\"Now, when the day is done, they walk across the sky on each side\nof the Stars' Road. It shows them the way. And when Night is over,\nthey turn back and sail again by the Stars' Road to call the Daybreak,\nthat goes before the Sun. The Star that leads the way is a big bright\nstar. He is called the Dawn's-Heart Star, and in the dark, dark hour,\nbefore the Stars have called the Dawn, he shines--ach! baasjes, he\nis beautiful to behold! The wife and the child of the Dawn's-Heart\nStar are pretty, too, but not so big and bright as he. They sail on\nin front, and then they wait--wait for the other Stars to turn back\nand sail along the Stars' Road, calling, calling the Dawn, and for the\nSun to come up from under the world, where he has been lying asleep.\n\n\"They call and sing, twinkling as they sing:--\n\n\n        'We call across the sky,\n        Dawn! Come, Dawn!\n        You, that are like a young maid newly risen,\n        Rubbing the sleep from your eyes!\n        You, that come stretching bright hands to the sky,\n        Pointing the way for the Sun!\n        Before whose smile the Stars faint and grow pale,\n        And the Stars' Road melts away.\n        Dawn! Come Dawn!\n        We call across the sky,\n        And the Dawn's-Heart Star is waiting.\n          It's so! It's so! It's so!'\n\n\n\"So they sing, baasjes, because they know they are soon going out.\n\n\"Then slowly the Dawn comes, rubbing her eyes, smiling, stretching out\nbright fingers, chasing the darkness away. The Stars grow faint and\nthe Stars' Road fades, while the Dawn makes a bright pathway for the\nSun. At last he comes with both arms lifted high, and the brightness,\nstreaming from under them, makes day for the world, and wakes people\nto their work and play.\n\n\"But the little Stars wait till he sleeps again before they begin\ntheir singing. Summer is the time when they sing best, but even now,\nif baasjes look out of the window they will see the Stars, twinkling\nand singing.\"\n\nThe children ran to the window and gazed out into the starlit\nheavens. The last sight Outa had, as he drained the soopje glass\nthe Baas was just in time to hand him, was of three little heads\nbobbing up and down in time to the immemorial music of the Stars,\nwhile little Jan's excited treble rang out: \"Yes, it's quite true,\nOuta. They do say, 'It's so! It's so! It's so!'\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nWHY THE HARE'S NOSE IS SLIT.\n\n\nThe curtains had not yet been drawn nor the shutters closed, and little\nJan looked with wide serious eyes at the full moon sailing serenely in\nthe cold sky. Then he sighed as though thoughts too big for expression\nstirred within him, and turned absently towards the purring fire.\n\n\"And why does the big man make such a sighing?\" asked Outa Karel. \"It\nis like the wind in the mealie land at sun-under.\"\n\nLittle Jan's eyes slowly withdrew their gaze from some inward vision\nand became conscious of the old native. \"Outa,\" he said, \"why is the\nmoon so far away, and so beautiful, and so golden?\"\n\n\"Ach! to hear him now! How can Outa tell? It is maar so. Just like\ngrass is green and fire is hot, so the Moon is far away and beautiful\nand golden. But she is a cruel lady sometimes, too, and it is through\nher that the poor Little Hare runs about with a slit in his nose\nto-day.\"\n\n\"Tell us, Outa.\" Little Jan dropped on to the rug beside the basket\nof mealie-cobs, and the others edged nearer.\n\n\"And why do you call the Moon a lady?\" asked Pietie of the inquiring\nmind.\n\n\"But doesn't baasje know that the Moon is a lady? O yes, and for all\nher beauty she can be cross and cruel sometimes like other ladies,\nas you will hear.\"\n\n\"Long, long ago, when the world was quite young, the Lady Moon wanted\nsomeone to take a message to Men. She tried first one creature and then\nanother, but no! they were all too busy, they couldn't go. At last\nshe called the Crocodile. He is very slow and not much good, but the\nLady Moon thought she would pinch his tail and make him go quickly. So\nshe said to him: 'Go down to Men at once and give them this message:\n\"As I die and, dying, live, so also shall you die, and, dying, live.\"'\n\n\"Baasjes know how the Moon is sometimes big and round----so\"--and\nOuta's diminutive hands described a wide circle and remained\nsuspended in the air--\"like she is now in the sky. Then every night\nshe gets smaller and smaller, so--so--so--so--so----till----clap!\"--the\ncrooked fingers come together with a bang--\"there's no more Moon: she\nis dead. Then one night a silver horn hangs in the sky--thin, very\nthin. It is the new Moon that grows, and grows, and gets beautiful\nand golden.\" By the aid of the small claw-like hands the moon grew to\nthe full before the children's interested eyes. \"And so it goes on,\nalways living, and growing, and dying, and living again.\n\n\"So the Lady Moon pinched old Oom Crocodile's tail, and he gave one\njump and off he started with the message. He went quickly while the\nMoon watched him, but soon he came to a bend in the road. Round\nhe went with a great turn, for a Crocodile's back is stiff like\na plank, he can't bend it; and then, when he thought he was out\nof sight, he went slower and slower--drif-draf-drippity-drif-draf,\ndrif-draf-drippity-drif-draf, like a knee-haltered horse. He was toch\ntoo lazy.\n\n\"All of a sudden there was a noise--sh-h-h-h-h--and there was the\nLittle Hare. 'Ha! ha! ha!' he laughed, 'what is the meaning of this\ndrif-draf-drippity-drif-draf? Where are you going in such a hurry,\nOom Crocodile?'\n\n\"'I can't stop to speak to you, Neef Haasje,' said Oom Crocodile,\ntrying to look busy and to hurry up. 'The Lady Moon has sent me with\na message to Men.'\n\n\"'And what is the message, Oom Crocodile?'\n\n\"'It's a very important one: \"As I die and, dying, live, so also\nshall you die and, dying, live.\"'\n\n\"'Ach, but that is a stupid message. And you can't ever run, Oom,\nyou are so slow. You can only go drif-draf-drippity-drif-draf like\na knee-haltered horse, but I go sh-h-h-h-h like the wind. Give the\nmessage to me and I will take it.'\n\n\"'Very well,' said the lazy Crocodile, 'but you must say it over\nfirst and get it right.'\n\n\"So Neef Haasje said the message over and over, and\nthen--sh-h-h-h-h--he was off like the wind. Here he was! there he\nwas! and you could only see the white of his tail and his little\nbehind legs getting small in the distance.\n\n\"At last he came to Men, and he called them together and said:\n'Listen, Sons of the Baboon, a wise man comes with a message. By\nthe Lady Moon I am sent to tell you: \"As I die and, dying, perish,\nso shall you also die and come wholly to an end.\"'\n\n\"Then Men looked at each other and shivered. All of a sudden the\nflesh on their arms was like goose-flesh. 'What shall we do? What\nis this message that the Lady Moon has sent? \"As I die and, dying,\nperish, so shall you also die and come wholly to an end.\"'\n\n\"They shivered again, and the goose-flesh crept right up their backs\nand into their hair, and their hair began to rise up on their heads\njust like--ach no, but Outa forgets, these baasjes don't know how it\nis to feel so.\" And the wide smile which accompanied these words hid\nthe expression of sly teasing which sparkled in Outa's dancing black\neyes, for he knew what it was to be taken to task for impugning the\ncourage of his young listeners.\n\n\"But Neef Haasje did not care. He danced away on his behind legs,\nand laughed and laughed to think how he had cheated Men.\n\n\"Then he returned again to the Moon, and she asked: 'What have you\nsaid to Men?'\n\n\"'O, Lady Moon, I have given them your message: \"Like as I die and,\ndying, perish, so also shall you die and come wholly to an end,\"\nand they are all stiff with fright. Ha! ha! ha!' Haasje laughed at\nthe thought of it.\n\n\"'What! cried the Lady Moon, 'what! did you tell them that? Child of\nthe devil's donkey! [7] you must be punished.'\n\n\"Ach, but the Lady Moon was very angry. She took a big stick, a\nkierie--much bigger than the one Outa used to kill lions with when he\nwas young--and if she could have hit him, then\"--Outa shook his head\nhopelessly--\"there would have been no more Little Hare: his head would\nhave been cracked right through. But he is a slim kerel. When he saw\nthe big stick coming near, one, two, three, he ducked and slipped away,\nand it caught him only on the nose.\n\n\"Foei! but it was sore! Neef Haasje forgot that the Moon was a Lady. He\nyelled and screamed; he jumped high into the air; he jumped with all\nhis four feet at once; and--scratch, scratch, scratch, he was kicking,\nand hitting and clawing the Moon's face till the pieces flew.\n\n\"Then he felt better and ran away as hard as he could, holding his\nbroken nose with both hands.\n\n\"And that is why to-day he goes about with a split nose, and the\ngolden face of the Lady Moon has long dark scars.\n\n\"Yes, baasjes, fighting is a miserable thing. It does not end when\nthe fight is over. Afterwards there is a sore place--ach, for so\nlong!--and even when it is well, the ugly marks remain to show what\nhas happened. The best, my little masters, is not to fight at all.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nHOW THE JACKAL GOT HIS STRIPE.\n\n\n\"The Sun was a strange little child,\" said Outa. \"He never had any\nPap-pa or Mam-ma. No one knew where he came from. He was just found\nby the roadside.\n\n\"In the olden days when the men of the Ancient Race--the old, old\npeople that lived so long ago--were trekking in search of game, they\nheard a little voice calling, calling. It was not a springbokkie,\nit was not a tarentaal, it was not a little ostrich. They couldn't\nthink what it was. But it kept on, it kept on.\" Outa's head nodded\nin time to his repetitions.\n\n\"Why didn't they go and look?\" asked Willem.\n\n\"They did, my baasje. They hunted about amongst the milk-bushes by\nthe roadside, and at last under one of them they found a nice brown\nbaby. He was lying quite still looking about him, not like a baby,\nbaasjes, but like an old child, and sparks of light, as bright as the\nsparks from Outa's tinderbox, seemed to fly out of his eyes. When he\nsaw the men, he began calling again.\n\n\"'Carry me, carry me! Pick me up and carry me!'\n\n\"'Arr\u00e9! he can talk,' said the man. 'What a fine little child! Where\nhave your people gone? and why did they leave you here?'\n\n\"But the little Sun wouldn't answer them. All he said was, 'Put me\nin your awa-skin. I'm tired; I can't walk.'\n\n\"One of the men went to take him up, but when he got near he said,\n'Soe! but he's hot; the heat comes out of him. I won't take him.'\n\n\"'How can you be so silly?' said another man. 'I'll carry him.'\n\n\"But when he got near, he started back. 'Alla! what eyes! Fire comes\nout of them.' And he, too, turned away.\n\n\"Then a third man went. 'He is very small,' he said; 'I can easily put\nhim in my awa-skin.' He stooped and took the little Sun under his arms.\n\n\"'Oh\u00e9! oh\u00e9! oh\u00e9!' he cried, dropping the baby on to the red sand. 'What\nis this for toverij! It is like fire under his arms. He burns me when\nI take him up.'\n\n\"The others all came round to see. They didn't come too near, my\nbaasjes, because they were frightened, but they wanted to see the\nstrange brown baby that could talk, and that burned like a fire.\n\n\"All on a sudden he stretched himself; he turned his head and put up\nhis little arms. Bright sparks flew from his eyes, and yellow light\nstreamed from under his arms, and--hierr, skierr--the Men of the\nEarly Race fell over each other as they ran through the milk-bushes\nback to the road. My! but they were frightened!\n\n\"The women were sitting there with their babies on their backs,\nwaiting for their husbands.\n\n\"'Come along! Hurry! hurry! See that you get away from here,' said\nthe men, without stopping.\n\n\"The women began to run, too.\n\n\"'What was it? What did you find?'\n\n\"'A terrible something,' said the men, still running. 'It pretends\nto be a baby, but we know it is a mensevreter. There it lies in the\nsand, begging one of us to pick it up and put it in his awa-skin,\nbut as soon as we go near, it tries to burn us; and if we don't make\nhaste and get away from here, it will certainly catch us.'\n\n\"Then they ran faster than ever. Baasjes know--ach no!\" corrected Outa,\nwith a sly smile; \"Outa means baasjes don't know--how frightenness\nmakes wings grow on people's feet, so that they seem to fly. So the\nMen of the Early Race, and the women with their babies on their backs,\nflew, and very soon they were far from the place where the little\nSun was lying.\n\n\"But someone had been watching, my baasjes, watching from a bush\nnear by. It was Jakhals, with his bright eyes and his sharp nose,\nand his stomach close to the ground. When the people had gone, he\ncrept out to see what had made them run. Hardly a leaf stirred, not\na sound was heard, so softly he crept along under the milk-bushes to\nwhere the little Sun lay.\n\n\"'Ach, what a fine little child has been left behind by the men!' he\nsaid. 'Now that is really a shame--that none of them would put it\ninto his awa-skin.'\n\n\"'Carry me, carry me! Put me in your awa-skin,' said the little Sun.\n\n\"'I haven't got an awa-skin, baasje,' said Jakhals, 'but if you can\nhold on, I'll carry you on my back.'\n\n\"So Jakhals lay flat on his stomach, and the little Sun caught hold\nof his maanhaar, and rolled round on his back.\n\n\"'Where do you want to go?' asked Jakhals.\n\n\"'There, where it far is,' said the baby, sleepily.\n\n\"Jakhals trotted off with his nose to the ground and a sly look in his\neye. He didn't care where the baby wanted to go; he was just going\nto carry him off to the krantz where Tante and the young Jakhalses\nlived. If baasjes could have seen his face! Alle wereld! he was\nsmiling, and when Oom Jakhals smiles, it is the wickedest sight in the\nworld. He was very pleased to think what he was taking home; fat brown\nbabies are as nice as fat sheep-tails, so he went along quite jolly.\n\n\"But only at first. Soon his back began to burn where the baby's arms\nwent round it. The heat got worse and worse, until he couldn't hold\nit out any longer.\n\n\"'Soe! Soe! Baasje burns me,' he cried. 'Sail down a little further,\nbaasje, so that my neck can get cool.'\n\n\"The little Sun slipped further down and held fast again, and Jakhals\ntrotted on.\n\n\"But soon he called out again, 'Soe! Soe! Now the middle of my back\nburns. Sail down still a little further.'\n\n\"The little Sun went further down and held fast again. And so it went\non. Every time Jakhals called out that he was burning, the baby slipped\na little further, and a little further, till at last he had hold of\nJakhals by the tail, and then he wouldn't let go. Even when Jakhals\ncalled out, he held on, and Jakhals's tail burnt and burnt. My! it\nwas quite black!\n\n\"'Help! help!' he screamed! 'Ach, you devil's child! Get off! Let\ngo! I'll punish you for this! I'll bite you! I'll gobble you up! My\ntail is burning! Help! Help!' And he jumped, and bucked, and rushed\nabout the veld, till at last the baby had to let go.\n\n\"Then Jakhals voertsed [8] round, and ran at the little Sun to bite\nhim and gobble him up. But when he got near, a funny thing happened, my\nbaasjes. Yes truly, just when he was going to bite, he stopped halfway,\nand shivered back as if someone had beaten him. At first he had\ngrowled with crossness, but now he began to whine from frightenness.\n\n\"And why was it, my baasjes? Because from under the baby's arms\nstreamed brightness and hotness, and out of the baby's eyes came\nstreaks of fire, so that Jakhals winked and blinked, and tried to make\nhimself small in the sand. Every time he opened his eyes a little,\njust like slits, there was the baby sitting straight in front of him,\nstaring at him so that he had to shut them again quick, quick.\n\n\"'Come and punish me,' said the baby.\n\n\"'No, baasje, ach no!' said Jakhals in a small, little voice, 'why\nshould I punish you?'\n\n\"'Come and bite me,' said the baby.\n\n\"'No, baasje, no, I could never think of it.' Jakhals made himself\nstill a little smaller in the sand.\n\n\"'Come and gobble me up,' said the baby.\n\n\"Then Jakhals gave a yell and tried to crawl further back.\n\n\"'Such a fine little child,' he said, trying to make his voice sweet,\n'who would ever do such a wicked thing?'\n\n\"'You would,' said the little Sun. 'When you had carried me safely\nto your krantz, you would have gobbled me up. You are toch so clever,\nJakhals, but sometimes you will meet your match. Now, look at me well.'\n\n\"Jakhals didn't want to look, my baasjes, but it was just as if\nsomething made his eyes go open, and he lay there staring at the baby,\nand the baby stared at him--so, my baasjes, just so\"--Outa stretched\nhis eyes to their utmost and held each fascinated child in turn.\n\n\"'You'll know me again when you see me,' said the baby, 'but never,\nnever again will you be able to look me in the face. And now you\ncan go.'\n\n\"Fierce light shot from his eyes, and he blew at Jakhals with all his\nmight; his breath was like a burning flame, and Jakhals, half dead\nwith frightenness, gave a great howl and fled away over the vlakte.\n\n\"From that day, my baasjes, he has a black stripe right down his back\nto the tip of his tail. And he cannot bear the Sun, but hides away\nall day with shut eyes, and only at night when the Old Man with the\nbright armpits has gone to sleep, does he come out to hunt and look\nfor food, and play tricks on the other animals.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nTHE ANIMALS' DAM.\n\n\n\"Ach! it was dry,\" said Outa, \"as dry as last year's springbok\nbiltong. For a long time the Old Man in the sky shot down strong light\nand sucked all the water out of the veld. From morning to night he\npoured down hotness on the world, and when he rolled round to sleep,\na hot wind blew--and blew--and blew--till he woke to shine again. The\nkarroo bushes dried up, the rivers had no water, and the poor animals\nbegan to die from thirst. It was such a drought, my little masters,\nas you have never seen.\n\n\"At last Oom Leeuw called the animals together to make a plan.\n\n\"The Sun had gone under, and the Lady Moon was sailing in the\nsky--beautiful, as she always is, and looking down on the hot\nworld. Oom Leeuw sat under a krantz on the morning side of a kopje,\nwhere it was a little cool, and the others sat round him like a\nwatermelon slice. Leopard, Hyena, Babiaan, Jakhals, Hare and Tortoise\nwere in front; they were the chief ones. The smaller ones, like Dassie,\nMierkat, and Hedgehog, were at the sides; and Zebra, Springbok, Ostrich\nand Giraffe waited in the veld to hear the news. They pretended to\nbe eating, but all the time their ears went backwards and forwards,\nbackwards and forwards--so, my baasjes,--to catch every little sound,\nand they were ready at the first sign of danger to race away, kicking\nup the dust so that Oom Leeuw would not be able to see them.\n\n\"But they needn't have been afraid. Oom Leeuw was too hot and tired\nand weak to catch anything. He just sat against the krantz with his\ndry tongue hanging out, and the others just lay round about in the\nwatermelon slice with their dry tongues hanging out, and every time\nthey looked at the sky to see if any clouds were coming up. But no! The\nsky was just like a big, hot soap-pot turned over above their heads,\nwith the Lady Moon making a silver road across it, and the little stars\nshining like bits broken off the big, hot Sun. There was nothing that\neven looked like a cloud.\n\n\"At last Oom Leeuw pulled in his tongue and rolled it about in his\nmouth to get the dryness off. When it stopped rattling, he began\nto talk.\n\n\"'Friends and brothers and nephews,' he said--yes, just like that\nOom Leeuw began; he was so miserable that he felt friendly with them\nall. 'Friends and brothers and nephews, it is time to make a plan. You\nknow how it is with a drought; when it is at its worst, the bottom\nof the clouds falls out, and the water runs away fast, fast, to the\nsea, where there is too much water already, and the poor karroo is\nleft again without any. Even if a land-rain comes, it just sinks in,\nbecause the ground is too loose and dry to hold it, so we must make\na plan to keep the water, and my plan is to dig a dam. But it's no\nuse for one or two to work; everyone must help. What do you say?'\n\n\"'Certainly,' said Leopard.\n\n\"'Certainly,' said Hyena.\n\n\"'Certainly,' said Ant-bear.\n\n\"'Certainly,' said Jakhals, but he winked his eye at the Lady Moon,\nand then put his nose into the warm sand so that no one could see\nhis sly smile.\n\n\"All the other animals said 'Certainly,' and then they began to talk\nabout the dam. Dear land! A person would never have said their throats\nwere dry. Each one had a different plan, and each one talked without\nlistening to the other. It was like a Church bazaar--yes, baasjes,\nlong ago when Outa was young he was on a bazaar in the village, but\nhe was glad, my baasjes, when he could creep into the veld again and\nget the noise out of his ears.\n\n\"At last the Water Tortoise--he with the wise little head under his\npatchwork shell--said, 'Let us go now while it is cool, and look for\na place for the dam.'\n\n\"So they hunted about and found a nice place, and soon they began\nto make the dam. Baasjes, but those animals worked! They scratched,\nthey dug, they poked, they bored, they pushed and they rolled; and\nthey all did their best, so that the dam could be ready when the rain\ncame. Only lazy Jakhals did not work. He just roamed round saying to\nthe others, 'Why don't you do this?' 'Why don't you do that?' till\nat last they asked, 'Why don't you do it yourself?'\n\n\"But Jakhals only laughed at them. 'And why should I be so foolish\nas to scratch my nails off for your old dam?' he said.\n\n\"'But you said \"Certainly,\" too, when Oom asked us, didn't you?' they\nasked.\n\n\"Then Jakhals laughed more than ever. 'Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha! Am I then\na slave of my word? That was last night. Don't you know yet that a\nthing is one colour by moonlight, and quite another colour when the\nsun shines on it? Ha! ha! ha!'\n\n\"So he went about bothering the poor animals that were working so hard,\nand laughing at them when they got hot and tired.\n\n\"'What's the use of working so hard? Those who do not work will\nalso drink.'\n\n\"'How do you know?' they asked.\n\n\"'Wait a bit, you'll see,' said sly Jakhals, winking his eye again.\n\n\"At last the dam was finished, and that very night the rain began. It\nkept on and on, till the dam was quite full and the water began to\nrun away over the veld, down to the great big dam called the Sea,\nthat is the Mother of all water, and so broad, my baasjes, that truly\nyou can't see the wall at the other side, even when you stand on a\nhigh kopje. Yes, so Outa has heard from truth-telling people. The\nmilk-bushes and karroo-bushes grew green again, and the little veld\nflowers burst out of the hard ground, and opened their white, and\nblue, and pink, and purple eyes to look at the Sun. They were like\nvariegated karosses spread out on the veld, and the Old Man in the\nsky was not so fierce any more; he did not burn them with his hotness,\nbut looked at them kindly.\n\n\"And the animals were toch so glad for the water! From far and near\nthey came to the dam to drink.\n\n\"But Jakhals was before them all. Soon after the Sun went down--baasjes\nknow, the wild animals sleep in the daytime and hunt in the night--he\nwent to the dam and drank as much water as he wanted, and filled his\nclay pot with some to take home. Then he swam round and round to get\ncool, making the water muddy and dirty, and when the other animals\ncame to drink, he slipped over the dam wall and was lost in the veld\nas if he had been a large pin.\n\n\"My! but Oom Leeuw was very angry!\n\n\"'Hoorr-rr-rr,' he roared, 'hoorr-rr-rr! What is this for a thing? Does\nthe lazy one think he can share with the workers? Who ever heard of\nsuch a thing? Hoorr-rr-rr! Here, Broer Babiaan, take this big kierie\nand hide yourself by the dam to-night, so that you can catch this\nVagabond, this Water-stealer.'\n\n\"Early that night, there was Jakhals again. He peeped this way and\nthat way--so, my baasjes,--and, yes truly, there was old Broer Babiaan\nlying amongst the bushes. But Jakhals was too schelm for him. He\nmade as if he didn't see him. He danced along on his hind legs,\nall in the round, all in the round, at the edge of the dam, singing:--\n\n\n        'Hing-ting-ting! Honna-mak-a-ding!\n          My sweet, sweet water!'\n\n\n\"He sang this over and over, and every time he came to the end of a\nline, he dipped his fingers into his clay pot and sucked them.\n\n\"'Aha! but my honey is nice,' he said, licking his lips. 'What do I\nwant with their old dirty water, when I have a whole potful of nice\nsweet water!'\n\n\"Baasjes know, baboons will do anything for honey, and when old Broer\nBabiaan heard Jakhals he forgot he was there to guard the dam. He\ncrept out from his hiding-place, a little nearer, and a little nearer,\nand at last he couldn't keep quiet any longer. When Jakhals came\ndancing along again, he called out in a great hurry, 'Good evening,\nJakhals! Please give me a little of your sweet water, too!'\n\n\"'Arr\u00e9!' said Jakhals, jumping to one side and pretending to be\nstartled. 'What a schrik you gave me! What are you doing here,\nBroer Babiaan?'\n\n\"'Ach no! Jakhals, I'm just taking a little walk. It's such a fine\nnight.'\n\n\"'But why have you got that big kierie?'\n\n\"'Only to dig out eintjes.'\n\n\"'Do you really want some of my sweet water?'\n\n\"'Yes, please, Jakhals,' said Broer Babiaan, licking his lips.\n\n\"'And what will you give me for it?'\n\n\"'I'll let you fill your pot with water from the dam.'\n\n\"'Ach! I don't want any of that dirty old dam water, but I know\nhow fond you are of this sweet water, Broer, so I'll let you drink\nsome. Here, I'll hold your kierie while you drink.'\n\n\"Boer Babiaan was in such a hurry to get to the honey that he just\nthrew the kierie to Jakhals, but just as he was going to put his\nfingers into the pot, Jakhals pulled it away.\n\n\"'No, wait a bit, Broer,' he said. 'I'll show you a better way. It\nwill taste much nicer if you lie down.'\n\n\"'Ach no! really, Jakhals?'\n\n\"'Yes, really,' said Jakhals. 'And if you don't lie down at once,\nyou won't get a drop of my sweet water.'\n\n\"He spoke quite crossly, and Babiaan was so tame by this time that\nhe was ready to believe anything, so he lay down, and Jakhals stood\nover him with his knapsack riem.\n\n\"'Now, Brother, first I'll tie you with my riem, and then I'll feed\nyou with the honey.'\n\n\"'Yes, yes,' said Broer Babiaan quickly.\n\n\"His mouth was watering for the honey; he couldn't think of anything\nelse, and he had long ago forgotten all about looking after the\ndam. It goes so, my baasjes, when a person thinks only of what he\nwants and not of what he must. So he let Jakhals tie his hands and\nfeet, and even his tail, and then he opened his mouth wide.\n\n\"But Jakhals only danced round and round, sticking his fingers into\nthe pot and licking them, and singing:\n\n\n        'Hing-ting-ting! Honna-mak-a-ding!\n          My sweet, sweet water!'\n\n\n\"'Where's mine?' called Broer Babiaan. 'You said you would feed\nme. Where's my sweet water?'\n\n\"'Here's all the sweet water you'll get from me,' said Jakhals,\nand--kraaks--he gave poor Broer Babiaan a hard hit with the kierie.\n\n\"'Borgom! Borgom! Help!' screamed Broer Babiaan, and tried to roll\naway. But there was no one to help him, so he could only scream and\nroll over, and each time he rolled over, Jakhals hit him again--kraaks!\n\n\"At last he squeezed the clay pot--and baasjes can believe me it\nhad never had any honey in it at all--over Broer Babiaan's head,\nwhile he ran off and drank as much water as he wanted, and swam, and\nstirred up the mud. Then he took the clay pot off Broer Babiaan's head,\nfilled it with water, and danced off, singing:\n\n\n        'Hing-ting-ting! Honna-mak-a-ding!\n          My sweet, sweet water!'\n\n\n\"'Good-bye, Brother,' he called out. 'I hope you'll enjoy the sweet\nwater you'll get from Oom Leeuw when he sees how well you have looked\nafter the dam.'\n\n\"Poor Old Broer Babiaan was, ach! so miserable, but he was even more\nunhappy after Oom Leeuw had punished him and set him on a large stone\nfor the other animals to mock at. Baasjes, it was sad! They came in a\nlong string, big ones and little ones, and each one stopped in front\nof the big stone and stuck out his tongue, then turned round and stuck\nout his tail--yes, so rude they were to Broer Babiaan, till the poor\nold animal got ashameder and ashameder, and sat all in a heap, hanging\ndown his head and trying not to see how they were mocking at him.\n\n\"When all the animals had passed on and drunk water, Oom Leeuw untied\nBroer Babiaan and let him go, and off he went to the krantzes as fast\nas he could, with his tail between his legs.\n\n\"And that is all for to-night, my baasjes. It is too long to finish\nnow. See, here comes Lys with the baasjes' supper, and Outa can smell\nthat his askoekies are burning by the hut.\"\n\nEvading the children's detaining hands, Outa sidled away, turning in\nthe passage doorway to paw the air with his crooked fingers in token\nof a final farewell.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nSAVED BY HIS TAIL.\n\n\n\"The end, Outa, please,\" said little Jan, \"the end of The Animals'\nDam. You said it was too long to finish last night.\"\n\n\"Aja, my baasje, it's full of jakhals draaie, and that's why it is\nso long, but it's near the end now.\n\n\"The night was old by the time the animals had finished with old Broer\nBabiaan, and the stars were going out. Only the Big Star, that lasts\nthe longest, was travelling quickly by the Stars' Road to call the\nDawn. It began to get light already at the place where the shining\nOld Man gets up every day, and that meant it was time for the animals\nto fade away to their sleeping-places.\n\n\"Oom Leeuw looked round on them. 'Who will look after the dam\nto-night?' he asked.\n\n\"'I will,' said a little voice, quickly. 'Peep! peep!'\n\n\"'And who is this that speaks from the ground?' asked Oom. 'Let us\nfind this brave one.'\n\n\"They looked about in the sand, and there, under a milk-bush near\nthe dam, sat the Water Tortoise. He was nice and big, baasjes, as big\nas the lid of the soap-pot, and his skinny legs were very strong. He\nstretched out his skinny neck and twinkled his little black eyes.\n\n\"'I'll look after the dam, Oom, and I'll catch the Water-Spoiler\nfor you.'\n\n\"'Ha! ha! ha! How will you do that?' asked Oom Leeuw.\n\n\"'If Oom will just let someone rub my back with the sticky black\nstuff from the floor of the hives, then Oom will see what will happen.'\n\n\"'This is a wise little man,' said Oom Leeuw, and he ordered Old\nBrown Sister Hyena--she with the limp in the left hind leg--to rub\nthe Water Tortoise with the sticky stuff.\n\n\"That night, my baasjes, when Jakhals went to the dam to drink,\nhe peeped about, but no! there was no one to guard the dam; only a\nlarge black stone lay near the edge of the water.\n\n\"'Arr\u00e9! this is lucky,' said Jakhals. 'Such a nice large stone! I'll\nstand on it while I drink.'\n\n\"He didn't know that the stone had a strong skinny neck, and, on\nthe end of the neck, a head with little bright eyes that could see\neverything that was going on. So he gave a jump, and--woops!--down\nhe came on to the stone with his two front feet, and there they stuck\nfast to the sticky black stuff, and he could not move them. He tried,\nand he tried, but it was no use.\n\n\"'Toever!' he screamed, 'toever! Let me go!'\n\n\"'Peep! peep!' said a little voice, 'don't be frightened.'\n\n\"'Who says I'm frightened, you old toever stone?' asked\nJakhals. 'Though my front feet are fast, I can still kick with my\nhind feet.'\n\n\"'Kick, kick, kick, and stick fast,' said the little voice.\n\n\"So Jakhals kicked and kicked, and his hind feet stuck fast.\n\n\"There was a funny sound under the water, like water bubbling through\na reed. It was the Water Tortoise laughing.\n\n\"'Nier-r-r! nier-r-r!' said Jakhals, getting very cross; 'I've still\ngot a tail, and I'll beat you with it.'\n\n\"'Beat, beat, beat, and stick fast,' said the little voice.\n\n\"So Jakhals beat and beat, and his tail stuck fast.\n\n\"'Nier-r-r!' he said again, very angry; 'I've still got a mouth,\nand I'll bite you with it.'\n\n\"'Bite, bite, bite, and stick fast,' said the little voice.\n\n\"Jakhals opened his mouth, and bit and bit, and his mouth stuck\nfast. There he was, all in a bundle, sticking altogether fast to the\nblack stone, and the more he tried to get free, the more he stuck fast.\n\n\"'Peep, peep!' said the Water Tortoise, poking up his head and\nlaughing. Then he marched to the top of the dam-wall where everyone\ncould see the strange sight, and there he sat, all quiet and good,\ntill the other animals came.\n\n\"'Arr\u00e9! they were glad when they saw Jakhals sticking to the Water\nTortoise. They held a Council and ordered him to be killed, and Broer\nHyena--old Brown Sister's husband--was to be the killer.\n\n\"They loosened Jakhal's mouth from the sticky stuff, so that he could\ntalk for the last time. He was very sorry for himself. His voice was\nthick with sorriness, and he could hardly get the words out.\n\n\"'Thank you, Oom,' he said. 'I know I'm a wicked creature. It's better\nfor me to die than to live and trouble everyone so much.'\n\n\"Oom Leeuw and the other animals were wondering what kind of death\nthe Water-stealer should die.\n\n\"'Chop my head off,' said Jakhals; 'throw me in the fountain, but\nplease, ach! please don't shave my tail and hit me on the big stone.'\n\n\"Oom Leeuw and the others were still putting their heads together.\n\n\"'Beat me with kieries, drown me in the dam,' said Jakhals, 'but don't,\nach! please don't smear my tail with fat and hit me on the big stone.'\n\n\"Oom Leeuw and the others made as if they were taking no notice of him.\n\n\"'Chop me in little pieces, beat me with thorn branches,' said Jakhals,\n'but please, ach! please don't take me by the tail and hit me on the\nbig stone.'\n\n\"At last Oom Leeuw turned round.\n\n\"'Just as you say, it shall be done. Shave his tail,' he said to the\nothers, 'smear it with fat, and hit his head on the big stone. Let\nit be done.'\n\n\"So it was done, and Jakhals stood very still and sad while his tail\nwas being shaved and smeared. But when Hyena swung him round--one,\ntwo, three, pht!--away he slipped and ran over the veld as fast as\nhe could. All the others ran after him, but they were only running\nto catch and he was running to live, so he went like the wind, and\nsoon they were left far behind.\n\n\"He never stopped till he came to a mountain where a krantz hung over\nand made a kind of cave, and in he crept. The first to come after him\nwas Oom Leeuw, who had run faster than the others. Jakhals watched\nOom crawling in, and when Oom's head touched the top of the cave,\nhe ran out, calling:\n\n\"'Oom, Oom, the krantz is falling. If you don't hold it up, you'll\nbe crushed to death. I'll run and get a pole to prop it up, but Oom\nmust please wait till I come back.'\n\n\"He left Oom plastering his head against the krantz to hold it up,\nwhile--pht!--he shot away, and never stopped till he got safe home,\nwhere he rolled bolmakissie over and over, laughing to think how he\nhad cheated all the animals again.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nTHE FLYING LION.\n\n\n\"Once upon a time,\" remarked Outa, thoughtfully, \"Oom Leeuw used\nto fly.\"\n\n\"O-o-o-oh!\" said the children all together, and their eyes widened\nwith terror at the picture called up by Outa's words.\n\n\"Yes, my baasjes, and then nothing could live before him. His wings\nwere not covered with feathers: they were like the wings of Brother\nBat, all skin and ribs; but they were very big, and very thick,\nand very strong, and when he wasn't flying they were folded flat\nagainst his sides. When he was angry he let the points down to the\nground--tr-r-r-r--like Oubaas Turkey when he gobble-gobble-gobbles\nand struts before his wives--tr-r-r-r, and when he wanted to rise from\nthe ground he spread them out and flapped them up and down slowly at\nfirst--so, my baasjes; then faster and faster--so, so, so--till he\nmade a big wind with them and sailed away into the air.\"\n\nOuta, flapping his crooked arms and puffing out his disproportionate\nchest, seemed about to follow suit, but suddenly subsided again on\nto his stool.\n\n\"Ach, but it was a terrible sight! Then, when he was high above the\nearth, he would look down for something to kill. If he saw a herd of\nspringbokke he would fly along till he was just over them, and pick\nout a nice fat one; then he would stretch out his iron claws, fold\nhis wings and--woops!--down he would fall on the poor bokkie before\nit had time to jump away. Yes, that was the way Oom Leeuw hunted in\nthe olden times.\n\n\"There was only one thing he was afraid of, and that was that the\nbones of the animals he caught and ate would be broken to pieces. No\none knew why, and everyone was too frightened of Oom Leeuw to try and\nfind out. He used to keep them all at his home in the krantzes, and he\nhad crows to look after them, two at a time--not like the ugly black\ncrows that build in the willow-trees near the dam, but White Crows,\nthe kind that come only once in many years. As soon as a white crow\nbaby was found it was taken to Oom Leeuw--that was his order; then he\nkept it in the krantzes of the mountains and let it grow big; and when\nthe old White Crows died the next eldest became watchmen, and so there\nwere always White Crows to watch the bones when Oom Leeuw went hunting.\n\n\"But one day while he was away Brother Big Bullfrog came along,\nhop-hop-hoppity-hop, hop-hop-hoppity-hop, and said: 'Why do you sit\nhere all day, you Whitehead Crows?'\n\n\"And the White Crows said: 'We sit here to look after the bones for\nOom Leeuw.'\n\n\"'Ach, but you must be tired of sitting!' said Brother Big Bullfrog,\n'You fly away a little and stretch your wings. I will sit here and\nlook after the bones.'\n\n\"The White Crows looked this way and that way, up and down and\nall round, but no! they couldn't see Oom Leeuw, and they thought:\n'Now is our chance to get away for a fly.'\n\n\"So they said 'Cr-r-raw, cr-r-raw!' and stretched out their wings\nand flew away.\n\n\"Brother Big Bullfrog called out after them: 'Don't hurry back. Stay\nas long as you like. I will take care of the bones.'\n\n\"But as soon as they were gone he said: 'Now I shall find out why Oom\nLeeuw keeps the bones from being broken. Now I shall see why men and\nanimals can live no longer.' And he went from one end to the other\nof Oom Leeuw's house at the bottom of the krantz, breaking all the\nbones he could find.\n\n\"Ach, but he worked quickly! Crack! crack, crack, crack! Wherever\nhe went he broke bones. Then when he had finished he hopped away,\nhop-hop-hoppity-hop, hop-hop-hoppity-hop, as fast as he could. When\nhe had nearly reached his dam in the veld, the White Crows overtook\nhim. They had been to the krantz and, foei! they were frightened when\nthey saw all the broken bones.\n\n\"'Craw, craw!' they said, 'Brother Big Bullfrog, why are you so\nwicked? Oom Leeuw will be so angry. He will bite off our nice white\nheads--craw, craw!--and without a head, who can live?'\n\n\"But Brother Big Bullfrog pretended he didn't hear. He just hopped\non as fast as he could, and the White Crows went after him.\n\n\"'It's no good hopping away, Brother Bullfrog,' they said. 'Oom Leeuw\nwill find you wherever you are, and with one blow of his iron claws\nhe will kill you.'\n\n\"But old Brother Big Bullfrog didn't take any notice. He just hopped\non, and when he came to his dam he sat back at the edge of the water\nand blinked the beautiful eyes in his ugly old head, and said: 'When\nOom Leeuw comes tell him I am the man who broke the bones. Tell him\nI live in this dam, and if he wants to see me he must come here.'\n\n\"The White Crows were very cross. They flew down quickly to peck\nBrother Big Bullfrog, but they only dug their beaks into the\nsoft mud, because Brother Big Bullfrog wasn't sitting there any\nlonger. Kabloops! he had dived into the dam, and the White Crows\ncould only see the rings round the place where he had made a hole in\nthe water.\n\n\"Oom Leeuw was far away in the veld, waiting for food, waiting for\nfood. At last he saw a herd of zebras--the little striped horses that\nhe is very fond of--and he tried to fly up so that he could fall on\none of them, but he couldn't. He tried again, but no, he couldn't. He\nspread out his wings and flapped them, but they were quite weak,\nlike baasjes' umbrella when the ribs are broken.\n\n\"Then Oom Leeuw knew there must be something wrong at his house, and he\nwas toch too angry. He struck his iron claws into the ground and roared\nand roared. Softly he began, like thunder far away rolling through the\nkloofs, then louder and louder, till--hoor-rr-rr-rr, hoor-rr-rr-rr--the\nearth beneath him seemed to shake. It was a terrible noise.\n\n\"But all his roaring did not help him, he couldn't fly, and at last\nhe had to get up and walk home. He found the poor White Crows nearly\ndead with fright, but they soon found out that he could no longer fly,\nso they were not afraid of him.\n\n\"'Hoor-rr-rr-rr, hoor-rr-rr-rr!' he roared. 'What have you done to\nmake my wings so weak?'\n\n\"And they said: 'While Oom was away someone came and broke all\nthe bones.'\n\n\"And Oom Leeuw said: 'You were put here to watch them. It is your\nfault that they are broken, and to punish you I am going to bite your\nstupid white heads off. Hoor-rr-rr-rr!'\n\n\"He sprang towards them, but now that they knew he couldn't fly they\nwere not afraid of him. They flew away and sailed round in the air\nover his head, just too high for him to reach, and they called out:\n'Ha! ha! ha! Oom cannot catch us! The bones are broken, and his wings\nare useless. Now men and animals can live again. We will fly away\nand tell them the good news.'\n\n\"Oom Leeuw sprang into the air, first to one side and then to the\nother, striking at them, but he couldn't reach them, and when he\nfound all his efforts were in vain, he rolled on the ground and roared\nlouder than ever.\n\n\"The White Crows flew round him in rings, and called out:\n'Ha! ha! ha! he can no longer fly! He only rolls and roars! The man\nwho broke the bones said: \"If Oom Leeuw wants me he can come and look\nfor me at the dam.\" Craw, craw,' and away they flew.\n\n\"Then Oom Leeuw thought: 'Wait, I'll get hold of the one who broke\nthe bones. I'll get him.' So he went to the dam, and there was old\nBrother Bullfrog sitting in the sun at the water's edge. Oom Leeuw\ncrept up slowly, quietly, like a skelm, behind Brother Bullfrog.\n\n\"'Ha! now I've got him,' he thought, and made a spring, but Brother\nBullfrog said, 'Ho!' and dived in--kabloops!--and came up at the\nother side of the dam, and sat there blinking in the sun.\n\n\"Oom Leeuw ran round as hard as he could, and was just going to spring,\nwhen--kabloops!--Brother Bullfrog dived in again and came up at the\nother side of the dam.\n\n\"And so it went on. Each time, just when Oom Leeuw had nearly caught\nhim, Brother Bullfrog dived in--kabloops!--and called out 'Ho!' from\nthe other side of the dam.\n\n\"Then at last Oom Leeuw saw it was no use trying to catch Brother\nBullfrog, so he went home to see if he could mend the broken bones. But\nhe could not, and from that day he could no longer fly, only walk upon\nhis iron claws. Also, from that day he learned to creep quietly like a\nskelm after his game, and though he still catches them and eats them,\nhe is not as dangerous as he was when he could fly.\n\n\"And the White Crows can no longer speak. They can only say, 'Craw,\ncraw.'\n\n\"But old Brother Big Bullfrog still goes hop-hop-hoppity-hop round\nabout the dam, and whenever he sees Oom Leeuw he just says 'Ho!' and\ndives into the water--kabloops!--as fast as he can, and sits there\nlaughing when he hears Oom Leeuw roar with anger.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nWHY THE HERON HAS A CROOKED NECK.\n\n\nThe flames leapt gaily upward in the wide fireplace, throwing strange\nshadows on the painted walls and gleaming on the polished wood of\nfloor and beam and cupboard. Little Jan basked contentedly in the\nwarmth, almost dozing--now absently stroking the terrier curled up\nbeside him, now running his fingers through the softer fur of the\nrug on which he lay. It was made of silver-jackal skins--a dozen of\nthem, to judge from the six bushy tails spread out on either side;\nand as Outa Karel's gaze rested on them, he remarked reminiscently--\n\n\"Arr\u00e9! but Oom Jakhals was a slim kerel! No one ever got the better\nof him without paying for it.\"\n\nIn an instant little Jan was sitting bolt upright, every symptom\nof sleep banished from his face; the book from which Willem had been\nlaboriously trying to gain some idea of the physical features of Russia\nwas flung to the far end of the rustbank; while Pietie, suspending\nfor a brief moment his whittling of a catapult stick, slid along the\nfloor to get within better sight and sound of the story-teller.\n\n\"Yes, my little masters, sometimes it was Oom Leeuw he cheated,\nsometimes it was Oubaas Babiaan or Oom Wolf, and once it was the\npoor little Dove, and that is what made me think of how he was\ncheated himself.\"\n\n\"Did the little Dove cheat him?\" asked Pietie eagerly.\n\n\"No, baasje, the Dove is too frightened--not stupid, baasje, but like\npeople are when they are too gentle and kind and believe everything\nother people tell them. She was sitting on her nest one day singing\nto her little children, 'Coo-oo, coo-oo coo-oo,' when Oom Jakhals\nprowled along under the tree and heard her.\n\n\"'Alla wereld! Now I'll have a nice breakfast,' he thought, and he\ncalled out, 'Good morning, Tante. I hear you have such pretty little\nchildren. Please bring them down for me to see.'\n\n\"But the Tante was frightened of Jakhals, and said, 'I'm sorry, Oom,\nthey are not well to-day, and I must keep them at home.'\n\n\"Then Jakhals lost his temper, and called out, 'Nonsense, I'm hungry\nand want something to eat, so throw down one of your little children\nat once.'\n\n\"Baasjes know, sometimes crossness drives away frightenness; and Tante\nwas so cross with Oom Jakhals for wanting to eat one of her little\nchildren that she called out, 'No, no, you bad Jakhals, I shall do\nnothing of the sort. Go away and look for other food.'\n\n\"'If you don't, I'll fly up and eat them all,' said Jakhals. 'Throw\none down at once.' And he stamped about and made such a horrible noise\nthat the poor Tante thought he was really flying up. She looked at\nher babies: there wasn't one she wanted to give, but it was better to\nlose one than have them all eaten; so she shut her eyes and fluttered\nabout the nest till one of them fell out, and Jakhals caught it in\nhis mouth and carried it off to his hole to eat.\n\n\"Ach! but the poor Tante was sad! She spread her wings over her other\nchildren and never slept all night, but looked about this way and\nthat way with her soft eyes, thinking every little noise she heard was\nOom Jakhals trying to fly up to her nest to gobble up all her babies.\n\n\"The next morning there was Oom Jakhals again. 'Tante, your child\nwas a nice, juicy mouthful. Throw me down another. And make haste,\ndo you hear? or I'll fly up and eat you all.'\n\n\"'Coo-oo, coo-oo, coo-oo,' said Tante, crying, 'no, I won't give\nyou one.' But it was no use, and in the end she did what she had\ndone before--just shut her eyes and fluttered round and round till\na baby fell out of the nest. She thought there was no help for it,\nand, like some people are, she thought what the eye didn't see the\nheart wouldn't feel; but her heart was very sore, and she cried more\nsadly than ever, and this time she said, 'Oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo!' It\nwas very sad and sorrowful to listen to 'Oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo!'\n\n\"Here came old Oom Reijer. He is a kind old bird, though he holds\nhis neck so crooked and looks like there was nothing to smile at in\nthe whole wide world.\n\n\"'Ach! why do you cry so sadly, Tante? It nearly gives me a stitch\nin my side.'\n\n\"'Oo-oo! I'm very miserable. Oom Jakhals has eaten two of my little\nchildren, and to-morrow he will come for another, and soon I shall\nhave none left.'\n\n\"'But why did you let him eat them?'\n\n\"'Because he said if I didn't give him one he would fly up and eat\nthem all. Oo-oo-oo!'\n\n\"Then Oom Reijer was very angry. He flapped his wings, and stretched\nout his long neck--so, my baasjes, just so\" (the children hugged\nthemselves in silent delight at Outa's fine acting)--\"and he opened\nand shut his long beak to show how he would like to peck out Oom\nJakhals's wicked eyes if he could only catch him.\n\n\"'That vervlakste Jakhals!' he said. 'To tell such lies! But, Tante,\nyou are stupid. Don't you know Oom Jakhals can't fly? Now listen to\nme. When he comes again, tell him you know he can't fly, and that\nyou won't give him any more of your children.'\n\n\"The next day there came Oom Jakhals again with his old story, but\nTante just laughed at him.\n\n\"'Ach, no! you story-telling Bushytail!' she said, 'I won't give you\nany more of my little children, and you needn't say you'll fly up\nand eat them, because I know you can't.'\n\n\"'Nier-r-r, nier-r-r!' said Oom Jakhals, growling, 'how do you\nknow that?'\n\n\"'Oom Reijer told me, so there!' said Tante. 'And you can just go to\nyour mother!'\n\n\"My! but Tante was getting brave now that she knew she and her little\nchildren were safe. That was the worst insult you can ever give a\ngrown-up jakhals, and Oom Jakhals growled more than ever.\n\n\"'Never mind,' he said at last, 'Tante is only a vrouwmens; I won't\nbother with her any more. But wait till I catch Oom Reijer. He'll\nbe sorry he poked his long nose into my business, the old meddler,'\nand he trotted off to look for him.\n\n\"He hunted and hunted, and at last he found him standing on one leg\nat the side of the river, with his long neck drawn in and his head\nresting on his shoulders.\n\n\"'Good day, Oom Reijer,' he said politely. 'How is Oom to-day?'\n\n\"'I'm all right,' answered Oom Reijer shortly, without moving an inch.\n\n\"Jakhals spoke in a little small voice--ach! toch so humble. 'Oom,\nplease come this way a little: I'm so stupid, but you are so wise\nand clever, and I want to ask your advice about something.'\n\n\"Oom Reijer began to listen. It is maar so when people hear about\nthemselves. He put down his other leg, stretched out his neck, and\nasked over his shoulder, 'What did you say, eh?'\n\n\"'Come toch this way a little; the mud over there is too soft for me\nto stand on. I want your valuable advice about the wind. The other\npeople all say I must ask you, because no one is as wise as you.'\n\n\"Truly Jakhals was a slim kerel! He knew how to stroke Oom Reijer's\nfeathers the right way.\n\n\"Oom Reijer came slowly over the mud--a person mustn't show he is\ntoo pleased: he even stopped to swallow a little frog on the way,\nand then he said, carelesslike, 'Yes, I can tell you all about the\nwind and weather. Ask what you like, Jakhals.' His long neck twisted\nabout with pride.\n\n\"Oom, when the wind is from the west, how must one hold one's head?'\n\n\"'Is that all?' said Oom Reijer. 'Just so.' And he turned his head\nto the east.\n\n\"'Thank you, Oom. And when the wind is from the east?'\n\n\"'So.' Oom Reijer bent his neck the other way.\n\n\"'Thank you, Oom,' said the little small voice, so grateful and\nhumble. 'But when there is a storm and the rain beats down, how then?'\n\n\"'So!' said Oom Reijer, and he bent his neck down till his head nearly\ntouched his toes.\n\n\"My little masters, just as quickly as a whip-snake shoots into his\nhole, so Jakhals shot out his arm and caught Oom Reijer on the bend of\nhis neck--crack!--and in a minute the poor old bird was rolling in the\nmud with his neck nearly broken, and so weak that he couldn't even lift\nhis beak to peck at the false wicked eyes that were staring at him.\n\n\"O! how glad was cruel Jakhals! He laughed till he couldn't any\nmore. He screamed and danced with pleasure. He waved his bushy tail,\nand the silver mane on his back bristled as he jumped about.\n\n\"'Ha! ha! ha! Oom thought to do me a bad turn, but I'll teach\npeople not to interfere with me. Ha! ha! ha! No one is as wise as\nOom Reijer, eh? Then he will soon find out how to mend his broken\nneck. Ha! ha! ha!'\n\n\"Jakhals gave one last spring right over poor Oom Reijer, and danced\noff to his den in the kopjes to tell Tante Jakhals and the little\nJakhalsjes how he had cheated Oom Reijer.\n\n\"And from that day, baasjes, Oom Reijer's neck is crooked: he can't\nhold it straight; and it's all through trying to interfere with\nJakhals. That is why I said Jakhals is a slim kerel. Whether he walks\non four legs or on two, the best is maar to leave him alone because\nhe can always make a plan, and no one ever gets the better of him\nwithout paying for it in the end.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nTHE LITTLE RED TORTOISE.\n\n\n\"No Jakhals story to-night, please, Outa,\" said little Jan, as they\ngathered round the fire. \"We all think Jakhals was a cruel horrid\ncreature, eating the poor little Doves and cracking the good Heron's\nneck.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" chimed in Pietie, \"he was always playing wicked tricks, so no\nmore Jakhals for us. What will you tell us to-night, Outa?\"\n\n\"Something really nice,\" suggested Willem, \"and not unkind.\"\n\nOuta's beady black eyes twinkled from one to another of his little\nmasters, while an affectionate smile spread over his yellow face,\naccentuating the wrinkles which criss-crossed it in every direction.\n\n\"Ach! the soft young hearts! Outa's heart was like that once, too,\nbut\"--he shook his head--\"if the heart doesn't get a little taai like\na biltong, it is of no use to a person in this old hard world.\" He\ndeposited his shapeless hat on the floor, tapped his red kopdoek with\na clawlike forefinger, and waited for an inspiration. It came from\nan unexpected quarter, for suddenly there was a commotion at the end\nof his old coat, the tails of which hung down nearly to the floor,\nand, diving into his pocket, the old man triumphantly produced a\nsquirming tortoise.\n\n\"See what Outa caught for the baasjes near the Klip Kop this\nafternoon--a nice little berg schilpad. [9] Now Baas Willem can put\nit in his kraal with the others and let it lay eggs. It is still\nyoung, but it will grow--yes, so big.\" A cart-wheel might have been\ncomfortably contained in the circle described by Outa's arms.\n\nIt was a knobbly, darkly-marked tortoise, quite unlike those the\nlittle boys generally found in the veld near the house, and they took\npossession of it with delight and suggestions as to a name. After\ndiscussion, honours were equally in favour of \"Piet Retief\" and\n\"Mrs. Van Riebeeck,\" and it was decided that the casting vote should\nbe left to Cousin Minnie, the children's governess.\n\nFor a long time they had kept tortoises of all sorts and sizes\nin their schilpad-kraal, and so tame and intelligent had some of\nthese creatures grown that they would come when called, and big old\n\"Woltemade\" roamed about at will, often disappearing for a time,\nand returning to his companions after a few days in the veld.\n\nOuta turned the new acquisition on its back on the jackalskin\nrug, where it lay wriggling and going through the strangest\ncontortions. \"Ach! the wise little man. Is it there its mother\nsprinkled it with buchu, [10] there, just under its arm?\" He touched\nthe skinny under-side of one of its forelegs. \"Here, Baas Willem,\nput it in the soap-boxie till to-morrow. Ach! if only it had been a\nred tortoise, how glad Outa would have been!\"\n\n\"A red tortoise!\" echoed Pietie and little Jan, while Willem hurried\nback from the passage to hear all about it.\n\n\"And have the baasjes then never heard of a red tortoise? Yes,\ncertainly, sometimes a red one is born, but not often--only once in a\nthousand years; and when this happens the news is sent round, because\nit is such a wonderful thing; and the whole nation of Schilpads--those\nfrogs with bony shields and hard beaks--are glad because they know\nthe little red one has come to help them against their enemies.\n\n\"Once a long, long time ago a mother Schilpad laid an egg in a shallow\nhole in the sand, just where the sun could warm it all the day, and\nshe scraped a little sand over it, so that no one could see it. See\nbaasjes, she was afraid of thieves. It was white and round, and so\nlarge that she felt very proud of it, and she often went to see how\nit was getting on. One day, as she got near the place she heard a\nlittle voice: 'Peep! Peep! Mam-ma, mam-ma, come and find me.'\n\n\"So she called out, 'Kindje, kindje, here's your mam-ma.' My! but\nshe walked fast! Her short legs just went so\"--Outa's arms worked\nvigorously--\"and when she got to the karroo-bush where she had put\nthe egg the shell was broken and a little Red Tortoise was sitting\nalongside of it!\n\n\"His shell was soft, and you could see everything inside of him,\nand how the blood went this way and that way: but never mind, it is\nmaar so with little tortoises. He was fine and healthy, and everything\nabout him was quite red. Alle wereld! old Mam-ma was proud! She went\nand told all her friends, and they came from all sides to see the\nlittle Red Tortoise. There were berg tortoises, and vlakte tortoises,\nand zand-kruipers, and even water tortoises, young and old, and they\nall sat round and praised him and gave him good advice and nice things\nto eat.\n\n\"He listened to everything and ate all the nice things, and grew\nbigger and redder and harder, but he didn't talk much, and the Old\nOnes nodded to each other and said, 'Ach, but he is sensible!' But\nthe Young Ones said, 'Ach, but he is stuck-up!' and they went away\nand crawled in the red clay to make themselves red. But it was no\ngood. In a little while it all rubbed off.\n\n\"At last all the visitor Schilpads went home again. But the little\nRed Tortoise stayed with his Mam-ma, and went on growing bigger and\nredder and harder, and his Mam-ma was toch so proud of him!\n\n\"When he walked in the veld and the other young tortoises said to him,\n'Come, we'll show you the way to do things; you must do so, and you\nmust do so,' he said, 'You can do so if you like, but I'll do things\nmy own way!' And they said 'Stuck-up Red Thing! Wait, Oubaas Giraffe\nwill get you!' But they left him alone, and although they all wished\nthey were red, they did not crawl in the clay any more: they knew\nit was no good. It was only from outside, so it soon rubbed off,\nbut the little Red One's redness was from inside; and baasjes know,\nfor a thing to be any good it must be on the inside.\" He glanced\ninvoluntarily at the wall-cupboard where his soopje was safely locked\nup: it would certainly not be any good, in his opinion, till it was\non the inside of him.\n\n\"But when the Old Tortoises gave him advice, the little Red Tortoise\nlistened and thanked them. He was a wise little man. He knew when to\nspeak and when to hold his tongue.\n\n\"At that time, my baasjes, the whole Tortoise nation was having a\nhard time with Oubaas Giraffe--that old horse with the long neck and\nthe unequal legs, who is all white and black like a burnt thornbush\n[11] with crows sitting on it. He gives blue ashes when he is burnt,\ntherefore is he called the Blue One.\n\n\"He had taken to eating tortoises. They didn't know what to do. They\ntried to make a plan, but no! they could find no remedy. Whenever\nOubaas Giraffe saw a nice young tortoise that he could easily swallow,\nhe picked it up in his mouth, and from fright it pulled its head\nand all its feet into its shell, and--goops!--one swallow and it had\nsailed down the Blue One's long throat, just like baasjes sail down\nthe plank at the side of the skeer-kraal.\n\n\"The little Red Tortoise listened to the plans that were made, and\nat last he thought of a plan. He was not sure how it would go, but he\nwas a brave little one, and he thought by himself, 'If it goes wrong,\nthere will be no more little Red Tortoise: but if it goes right,\nthen the whole Tortoise nation will be able to live again.'\n\n\"So what did he do, my baasjes? He crawled out far in the veld and sat\nin the path where the Old Blue One liked to walk. Soon he heard goof,\ngoof, goof, coming nearer and nearer. Then the noise stopped. The\nlittle Red One peeped from under his shell. Yes, there was the great\nBlue One, standing over him and looking very fierce.\n\n\"Do you know, little Red Tortoise, in one moment I could trample you\nto death?'\n\n\"The little Red One was very frightened, for this was not his plan,\nbut he said nothing.\n\n\"'Do you know, little Red Tortoise, in one moment I could swallow you?'\n\n\"Ach! how glad was the little Red Tortoise! But he only said in a\nsmall little voice, 'Yes, noble Blue One, I belong to the nation whom\nit is the custom to swallow. Please swallow me!'\n\n\"Oubaas Giraffe picked him up and gave a little gulp, and the little\nRed Tortoise slipped half-way down his long throat. But oj\u00e9! here a\nstrange thing happened. The little Red One would go no further. Instead\nof drawing in his head and legs and slipping down like a stone, like\nall the other tortoises had done, he wanted to see where he was going,\nso he stuck out his head, and fastened his sharp little nails into\nOubaas Giraffe's gullet, and there he hung like a bat on a wall.\n\n\"'Go down, go down, little Tortoise! You choke me!' The Old Blue One\ncould hardly speak; his throat was so full of tortoise.\n\n\"'Peep! peep!' said the little Red One, and held on more tightly\nthan ever.\n\n\"'Come up, come up, little Tortoise! You kill me!' The Old Blue One\nwas stamping and gurgling now.\n\n\"'Peep! peep!' said the little Red One, and hung on with his hard bent\nbeak as well. He thought, 'No! too many of my nation have sailed down\nthis red sloot. I won't let go.'\n\n\"I tell you, baasjes, Oubaas Giraffe danced and pranced over the veld;\nhe screamed and bellowed; he gurgled and swallowed; he tried to get\nthe little Red Tortoise down, and he tried to get him up; but it was\nno use. The little Red One clung fast to him till he was quite choked,\nand sank down in the sand and died.\n\n\"Then the little Red Tortoise crawled out, and went home to tell his\nMam-ma that he had killed Oubaas Giraffe and that his nation could\nhave peace again. Ach! but she was proud of him!\n\n\"'It's not for nothing you were born red,' she said. 'Come here,\nmy little Crab, that I may put buchu under your arm. Come, my\ncrooked-legged little one, let your mother sprinkle you with buchu!'\n\n\"When she had sprinkled him with buchu, they went and told their\nfriends, and all the Tortoise nation rejoiced and went and had a\ngreat feast off Oubaas Giraffe as he lay dead in the veld.\n\n\"And they thought more of the little Red Tortoise than ever. Even\nthe Young Ones, who had been angry with him, said, 'He is wiser than\nwe are. We will listen to what he says. P'r'aps, after all, there is\nsomething in being born a certain colour.'\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nTHE OSTRICH HUNT.\n\n\nThe next day all the time that was not given to lessons and\nmeals was spent by the little boys in scouring the veld for a red\ntortoise. Disappointment at their fruitless search found vent in no\nmeasured terms when Outa Karel appeared in the dining-room at his\nusual hour.\n\n\"Ach, to hear them now!\" he said, regarding them with his wide-mouthed\nsmile of amused tolerance. \"Does it then rain red tortoises? And how\ncan the baasjes think they will find at the first shot a thing that\nonly comes once in a thousand years?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Willem, stoutly, \"it might just have been the time for\none. How were we to know?\"\n\n\"Outa,\" asked little Jan, earnestly, \"do you know when it will be\nred tortoise time again?\"\n\n\"Aja, baasjes,\" said Outa readily, \"it won't be long now. Let Outa\nthink.\" He performed a tattoo on the red kopdoek--a sure sign that\nhe was in the thick of mental gymnastics. \"What comes just before a\nthousand, my baasjes?\"\n\n\"Nine hundred and ninety-nine,\" answered Pietie, who was good at\narithmetic.\n\n\"Now, yes,\" said Outa, triumphantly, \"I knew it must be nearly time. It\nis nine hundred and ninety-nine years since there was a red tortoise,\nso next year this time baasjes can begin to look for one. Only begin,\nmy baasjes, because it will only be creeping out of the egg then. And\np'r'aps it won't be in this veld. It might be far, far away where\npeople don't know about a red tortoise, and so no one will look for\nhim. Must Outa tell another story about him?\"\n\nThe sly old man had taken the best way of escaping more questions. The\nlittle boys gathered round and listened wide-eyed as he told the\nstory of the Tortoises hunting the Ostriches.\n\n\"After Oubaas Giraffe was dead, the Tortoises had a nice life for\na long time, and then there came into their veld Old Three Sticks,\nthe Ostrich, with his mam-ma and pap-pa, and his wives, and uncles,\nand aunties, and children, and friends. Alla! there were a lot of\nOstriches! The whole veld was full of them, and they all began eating\ntortoises wherever they could find them. It was just the same like\nwhen Oubaas Giraffe used to go about. And the tortoises thought and\nthought, and they talked and talked, but they couldn't make a plan\nthat would drive the Ostriches away.\n\n\"The little Red Tortoise was thinking, too, but he didn't talk till\nhe had his plan ready. Then he called all the Tortoises together. The\nOld Ones came because they wanted to hear what the wise little Red One\nhad to say, and the Young Ones came because ever since he had killed\nOubaas Giraffe they had listened to him. When they were all together\nhe said, 'It now goes on too long, this hunting of the Tortoises by\nOld Three Sticks and his friends. Let us change places and let us,\nthe Tortoise people, go and hunt Ostriches.'\n\n\"'Peep! peep!' cried all the young Tortoises: they were quite\nready. But the Old Ones said, 'Is this the wise little Red One? How\nis it possible for us to hunt Ostriches?'\n\n\"'It is possible, because Ostriches never run straight, but always\na little in the round, and a little in the round, so that in the\nend if they run long enough they come again to the place they began\nfrom. Now yes, on a certain day let us then go into the veld where the\nOstriches like to hunt, and let us make two long rows, not straight\nout but always in the round; one ring, very large, outside, and the\nother, smaller, inside. Then when Old Three Sticks and his friends\ncome we will call one to the other and drive them on, and they will\nflee through the midst of us, round and round and round till they\ncan flee no longer.'\n\n\"'Peep! peep!' said the young Tortoises, and the Old Ones joined\nin. They saw that it was a good plan, so they all went to the hunting\nveld of Old Three Sticks and his friends and spread themselves out,\nas the little Red Tortoise had said.\n\n\"Soon the Ostriches came, pecking, pecking, as they walked.\n\n\"The Tortoises sat very still, waiting, my baasjes, just waiting,\ntill the Ostriches were right in the middle of the two rings. Then\nthe little Red Tortoise gave the signal, 'Peep! Peep!' and at once\nthe calling began.\n\n\"'Are you there?' called the first Tortoise.\n\n\"'I am here,' said the next, and so it went on all round the circle,\none calling to the other.\n\n\"'What are you doing?' called the first one.\n\n\"Hunting Ostriches,' said the next, and so it went on all round the\ncircle again, one calling to the other.\n\n\"The Ostriches could see nothing. They could only hear voices\ncalling. They looked at each other and said, 'What are these voices? It\nis surely a great army come to hunt us. Let us get away.'\n\n\"They were very frightened and began to run, and as far as they ran\nthey heard:--\n\n\"'Are you there?'\n\n\"'I am here.'\n\n\"'What are you doing?'\n\n\"'Hunting Ostriches.'\n\n\"So it went on, over and over again. The Tortoises never moved,\nonly kept calling out. And the Ostriches ran faster and faster, all\nin the round, till at last they were so tired they couldn't run any\nmore. First one fell, and then another, and another, and another,\ntill there were heaps of them lying about, and just where they fell\nthey lay quite still. They were too tired to move.\n\n\"Then the Tortoises gathered together--they were very many--and they\nbit Old Three Sticks and all his family and friends on their long\nnecks and killed them.\n\n\"Since then the Tortoises have had peace from the Long-necked\nPeople--Oubaas Giraffe and old Three Sticks. It is only the Things\nof the Air, like Crows and Lammervangers, that still hunt them, and\nbaasjes know how they do? They catch a poor Tortoise in their claws\nand fly away with him, high up over a kopje, and then they drop him on\nthe stones--kabloops!--and there he lies with his shell all broken, and\nwithout a shell how can a Tortoise live? And then the Thing of the Air\ncomes and eats him up, and that is the end of the poor Tortoise. But\na Red Tortoise they never touch. It is his colour, baasjes, that\nfrightens them. So the Young Tortoises were right when they said,\n'There is something, after all, in being born a certain colour.'\n\n\"After the Ostrich hunt, the little Red Tortoise was sprinkled with\nbuchu under both arms, and his Mam-ma sang him this song:--\n\n\n        The little crook-legged one! I could sprinkle it,\n        Sprinkle it with buchu under its arms.\n\n        The little red crab! The little Wise One!\n        I sprinkle the buchu under both arms.\n\n        For the Long-necks, they that ate us,\n        It has found a way to kill them;\n\n        So we sprinkle it, the little Red One,\n        Sprinkle the buchu under both arms.\"\n\n\nThe usual discussion took place when Outa had finished, and at last\nPietie said, \"If I had to be a Tortoise, I'd be a red one.\"\n\n\"Why, my little master?\"\n\n\"Because the Crows and Lammervangers don't catch it. To be swallowed\nby an ostrich or stick in a giraffe's throat would not be so bad,\nbut I'd hate to be broken on the stones.\"\n\n\"Ach! my baasje, no matter how Old Friend Death comes, we are never\nready for him. When Outa was young he was nearly killed by a troop\nof springbucks, and he thought, 'No, not toch trampled to death; to\nbe carried down the river is better.' But when the flood came and the\nriver carried Outa away, he fought for his life just as hard as when\nthe springbucks were on him. It was the same when the hut was burnt,\nand when the mad bull chased Outa across the veld. Over and over\nagain the same. Always another sort of death seems better. Always\nOld Friend Death finds a man not quite ready for him.\"\n\n\"And now how would you like him to find you, Outa?\" asked Willem with\nmuch interest.\n\nA whimsical smile spread over the old man's face. \"Ach! to hear\nhim! Just sitting in the sun, my baasje, by the skeer-kraal wall,\nwhere I have sat for so many, many years. When he comes I will say,\n'Morning, Old Friend, you have been a long time on the road--ach! so\nlong, that I am tired of waiting. Let us go at once.' A person needn't\npack up for that trek, baasjes. I'll just drop my old sheepskin kaross,\nand take Old Friend Death's hand and let him show me the way. It is\nfar, my baasjes, far to that land, and no one ever comes back from\nit. Then someone else will tell the stories by the fire: there will\nbe no Outa any more to talk to the little masters.\" His voice had\ndropped to a musing tone.\n\n\"Don't! Don't!\" cried Pietie in a choked voice.\n\n\"Outa, you mustn't say such things,\" said Willem, and they each seized\none of Outa's crooked hands, while little Jan clung to his old coat\nas though he would never let it go.\n\n\"I want my Outa,\" he cried. \"He mustn't go away. I want my Outa Karel!\"\n\nThe old man's eyes glistened with a moisture not often seen in\nthem. \"Still! still! my little baasjes,\" he said, stroking first one\nand then another. \"Outa doesn't want to make them sad. He is not\ngoing yet. He will sit here and tell his foolish stories for many\nnights yet.\" A caressing smile broke over his grotesque face. \"And\ndo they then want to keep their Outa? Ach! to think of it! The kind\nlittle hearts! But what will the Nooi say if the eyes are juicy? No,\nOuta only said about the skeer-kraal and sitting in the sun because it\nsounds so nice and friendly. Look how lively and well Outa is--like a\nyoung bull-calf!\" He pretended playfully to toss them. \"That's right,\nmy children, now you laugh again. But young bull-calves must also go\nin the kraal, and the hut is calling Outa. Night, my baasjes, night,\nnight. Sleep well. To-morrow Outa will tell them another beautiful\nstory. Ach, the dear little ones! So good to their ugly Outa!\"\n\nFollowed by a chorus of \"good-nights\" from the children; the old man\nshuffled away, not knowing that he had spoken with prophetic voice,\nand that Friend Death would find him, even as he wished, sitting in\nthe sun by the skeer-kraal.\n\nBut that was not yet awhile, and he told many stories before setting\nout on the Great Trek for the Unknown Veld whence no traveller returns.\n\n\n\nGlasgow: Printed at the University Press by Robert Maclehose and\nCo. Ltd.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\n\n[1] Sassaby (also spelt Sesseby) or Bastard Hartebeest are much\nsmaller than the Hartebeest proper, and are found in open veld near\nforest country.\n\n[2] The Hyena, on first starting, appears lame in the hind legs--a\nfact accounted for by the Hottentots in the foregoing fable.\n\n[3]     \"Berry, berry, blackberry,\n        Hold your hands together.\"\n\n[4] The Kaap--Cape Town.\n\n[5] It is both curious and interesting to find the identical belief\nobtaining amongst races so widely different as the Scandinavians of\nNorthern Europe and the Bushmen of South Africa.--See Hans Andersen's\nLittle Match Girl: \"Her Grandmother had told her that when a star\nfell down a soul mounted up to God.\"\n\n[6] \"When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God\nshouted for joy.\"--Job xxxviii. 7.\n\n[7] According to a Hottentot legend, the hare is related to the donkey.\n\n[8] Voertsed.--Evidently a word of Outa's coining, meaning to jump\nround suddenly and violently.\n\n[9] Mountain tortoise.\n\n[10] An aromatic veld herb, from which a decoction is made. Sprinkling\nbuchu under the arm is a Hottentot custom in token of approval.\n\n[11] The Mimosa, which is white when burnt by the sun.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nOTHER FOLK-LORE TALES\n\n\nFAIRY TALES FROM SOUTH AFRICA. Collected and arranged by\nMrs. E. J. Bourhill and Mrs. J. B. Drake. Illustrated by W. Herbert\nHolloway. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.\n\n    ATHENAEUM.--\"A charming collection of stories which would\n    make a capital gift-book for children.... The illustrations by\n    Mr. W. H. Holloway are exceedingly good.\"\n\n    OUTLOOK.--\"Not only are the stories admirably related and of\n    absorbing interest, as true folk-tales should be, but they are\n    materially aided by Mr. Holloway's splendid black-and-whites.\"\n\n\nTHE CROCK OF GOLD. By James Stephens. Crown 8vo.  5s. net.\n\n    EVENING STANDARD.--\"A delicate fairy extravaganza, difficult to\n    class with any other book. It has extraordinary flashes of beauty,\n    any amount of whimsical humour, and ends in an ecstasy that has\n    about it a touch of Borrow and a note from the very flute of Pan.\"\n\n    PUNCH.--\"A fairy fantasy, elvish, grotesque, realistic,\n    allegorical, humorous, satirical, idealistic, and poetical by\n    turns ... and very beautiful.\"\n\n\nFOLK TALES OF BREFFNY. By B. Hunt. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net.\n\n    SPECTATOR.--\"Wholly delightful volume.... These folk-tales are\n    rich in the qualities of poetry, wit, and intelligence, and though\n    the part which Miss Hunt has played is not that of a creator,\n    her versions are marked by such unfailing charm, such happy and\n    characteristic turns of phrase, that she deserves to rank with\n    those musicians like Francis Korbay, who have lent fresh lustre\n    to folk tunes by the beauty and picturesqueness of their settings.\"\n\n\nFOLK TALES OF BENGAL. By the Rev. Lal Behari Day. Crown\n8vo. 4s. 6d. Also with 32 Illustrations in Colour by Warwick\nGoble. Crown 4to. 15s. net. Edition de Luxe. Demy 4to. 42s. net.\n\n    MORNING POST.--\"As a faithful mirror of Bengali beliefs by\n    no means extinct, they can be cordially recommended to lovers\n    of supernatural romance. Mr. Warwick Goble has provided them\n    also with charming illustrations, in which the lines and folds\n    of Eastern drapery, the blues and greens of forests and skies,\n    together with the dignity and simplicity of the figures, make up\n    an enchantment which few will be able to resist.\"\n\n\nPAPUAN FAIRY TALES. By Annie Ker. Illustrated. Extra Crown 8vo.\n5s. net.\n\n    WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.--\"Some of the charm of the stories is without\n    a doubt due to the charm of Miss Ker's manner of retelling the\n    tales; but she had fair material to work upon, and the volume,\n    with its photographic illustrations of native life, is quite\n    delightful, and will interest general readers as well as\n    specialists in folk-lore.\"\n\n\nTALES OF OLD JAPAN. By Lord Redesdale. Illustrated. Crown\n8vo. 3s. 6d. Globe 8vo.  1s. net.\n\n    NOTES AND QUERIES.--\"By far the most striking, instructive, and\n    authentic book upon Japan and the Japanese which has ever been\n    laid before the English reader.\"\n\n\nCHINESE FOLK-LORE TALES.  By Rev. J. Macgowan, D.D. Crown 8vo.\n3s. net.\n\n    DAILY NEWS.--\"This is a most interesting volume of stories.... A\n    book which has given us great pleasure.\"\n\n\n                    LONDON: MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd.\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"Outa Karel's Stories: South African Folk-Lore Tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":25723}