The Baboons Who Went This Way And That: Folktales From Africa. Alexander McCall SmithЧитать онлайн книгу.
guinea fowl was delighted and that evening, shortly after the sun had gone down, he came to Pitipiti’s hut. She welcomed him and made him an evening meal, just as any mother would do with her child. They were both very happy.
Still the new wife laughed at Pitipiti. Sometimes she would pass by Pitipiti’s fields and jeer at her, asking her why she grew crops if she had no mouths to feed. Pitipiti ignored these jibes, but inside her every one of them was like a small sharp spear that cuts and cuts.
The guinea fowl heard these taunts from a tree in which he was sitting, and he cackled with rage. For the new wife, though, these sounds were just the sound of a bird in a tree.
“Mother,” the guinea fowl asked that night. “Why do you bear the insults of that other woman?”
Pitipiti could think of no reply to this. In truth there was little that she could do. If she tried to chase away the new wife, then her husband would be angry with her and might send her away altogether. There was nothing she could do.
The bird, however, thought differently. He was not going to have his mother insulted in this way and the following day he rose early and flew to the highest tree that overlooked the fields of the new wife. There, as the sun rose, he called out a guinea fowl song:
Come friends, there is grain to eat!
Come and eat all this woman’s grain!
It did not take long for the new wife to realize what was happening. Shouting with anger, she ran out into the fields and killed Pitipiti’s guinea fowl and his friends. Then she took them back to her hut, plucked out their feathers, and began to cook them.
Mzizi was called to the feast and together he and his new wife ate all the guinea fowl at one sitting. It was a tasty meal and they were both very pleased with themselves for having made such a good start to the day.
No sooner had they finished the last morsel than Mzizi and the new wife heard the sound of singing coming from their stomachs. It was the guinea fowls singing their guinea fowl songs. This, of course, frightened the couple and they immediately seized long knives and stabbed at their stomachs to stop the noise. As the knives pierced their skins, bright blood flowed freely and they fell to the ground. As they fell, from out of the wounds came the guinea fowl and his friends, cackling with joy at their freedom. Soon they were back in the field, eating the last of the grain that was left.
Pitipiti was pleased that she no longer had to suffer the taunts of the new wife. She now owned her husband’s cattle and because of this there were many men waiting to marry her. All of them, of course, were happy at the thought that they might marry a wife who had such a clever and unusual child.
A girl who only had one brother liked the place where she and her parents lived. There was a river nearby, where she could draw water, and the family’s cattle enjoyed the sweet grass which grew by the riverside. The huts were shaded from the hot sun by the broad leaves of the trees, and at night there was a soft breeze from the hills, which kept them cool. Passers-by, who called in to drink water from the family’s calabashes, would say how much they envied that quiet place, and how their own places were so much drier and dustier.
Then a terrible thing happened, which spoiled the happiness of the family. The girl had gone to fetch water from the river and was walking back to her hut with a large calabash on her head. Suddenly she began to feel that she was being followed. At first she did nothing, but then, when the feeling became quite strong, she turned round and looked behind her. There was nothing to be seen, although the tall grass moved and there was a faint sound, rather like that which a creature makes when it scurries through a bush.
The girl continued on her way. After she had taken a few more steps she again heard a noise. This time she swung round more sharply, dropping the calabash to the ground. There was a man behind her, crouching down, half in the grass, half out of it.
The girl was frightened by the sight of the man, but she tried not to show her fear. He smiled at her, and rose to his feet.
“You must not be afraid of me,” he said. “I am just walking in the grass.”
The girl could not understand why a man should wish to walk in the grass, but she did not say anything. The man came up to her and reached out to touch her.
“You are a nice, fat girl,” he said.
The girl was now very nervous and moved away from the man’s touch.
“My father’s place is just there,” she said. “I can see the smoke from his fire.”
The man looked in the direction of the huts.
“If that is so,” he said, “I can walk with you to your father’s place, where I can eat some food.”
The girl walked ahead of the man and soon they came to the circle of huts under the trees. There the stranger waited at the gate while the girl went in to tell her father that there was a man who wished to eat some food. The father came out, called to the man, and invited him to sit on a stone under one of the trees. Food was made by the girl’s mother and given to the man. He took it, and put it all into his mouth in one piece. Then he swallowed, and all the food was gone. The girl had not seen a man eat in this way before and wondered why he should be so hungry.
After the man had eaten, he got up and said goodbye to the father. He looked around him before he left, as if he was trying to remember what the family looked like and what they owned. Then he walked off and was soon obscured by the tall grass that grew in that part.
The girl went to stand by her father’s side.
“That was a very wicked man,” said the father. “I am very sorry that he visited this place.”
“I am sure he will not come back,” the girl said. “He was going somewhere else when I met him.”
The father shook his head sadly.
“Now that he is here,” he said. “We shall have to leave. I shall tell your brother to collect his sleeping mat and get ready for us to go to some other place.”