Chapter 36
The Princess got very red and downcast when she heard that, for she was just as naughty as the others, and asked Annie if she would go in her stead and lie down with the Prince that night; and when he was sound asleep, she would come and take her place, and then he would have the right bride by his side when it was light next morning.
Yes! they did that. And when little Annie the goose-girl came and stepped upon the stone, the Prince asked:
“Who is this that steps into my bed.”
“A maid pure and bright”, said the stone; and so they lay down to rest.
Farther on in the night the Prince put a ring on Annie’s finger, and it fitted so tight she couldn’t get it off again; for the Prince saw well enough there was something wrong, and so he wished to have a mark by which he might know the right woman again.
Well, when the Prince had gone off to sleep, the Princess came and drove Annie away to the pigsty, and lay down in her place. Next morning, when they were to get up, the Prince asked:
“Who is this that steps out of my bed?”
“One that’s had nine bairns”, said the stone.
When the Prince heard that he drove her away at once, for he was in an awful rage; and then he asked the stone how it all was with these Princesses who had stepped on it, for he couldn’t understand it at all, he said.
So the stone told him how they had cheated him, and sent little Annie the goose-girl to him in their stead.
But as the Prince wished to have no mistake about it, he went down to her where she sat tending her geese, for he wanted to see if she had the ring too, and he thought, “if she has it, ’twere best to take her at once for my queen”.
So when he got down he saw in a moment that she had tied a bit of rag round one of her fingers, and so he asked her why it was tied up.
“Oh! I’ve cut myself so badly”, said little Annie the goose-girl.
So he must and would see the finger, but Annie wouldn’t take the rag off. Then he caught hold of the finger; but Annie, she tried to pull it from him, and so between them the rag came off, and then he knew his ring.
So he took her up to the palace, and gave her much fine clothes and attire, and after that they held their wedding feast; and so little Annie the goose-girl came to have the king of England’s son for her husband after all, just because it was written that she should have him.
INTRODUCTION TO APPENDIX
ANANZI STORIES
The Negroes in the West Indies still retain the tales and traditions which their fathers and grandfathers brought with them from Africa. Some thirty years back these “Ananzi Stories”, as they are called, were invariably told at the Negro wakes, which lasted for nine successive nights. The reciters were always men. In those days when the slaves were still half heathen, and when the awful _Obeah_ was universally believed in, such of the Negroes as attended church or chapel kept their children away from these funeral gatherings. The wakes are now, it is believed, almost entirely discontinued, and with them have gone the stories. The Negroes are very shy of telling them, and both the clergyman of the Church of England, and the Dissenting Minister set their faces against them, and call them foolishness. The translator, whose early childhood was passed in those islands, remembers to have heard such stories from his nurse, who was an African born; but beyond a stray fragment here and there, the rich store which she possessed has altogether escaped his memory. The following stories have been taken down from the mouth of a West Indian nurse in his sister’s house, who, born and bred in it, is rather regarded as a member of the family than as a servant. They are printed just as she told them, and both their genuineness and their affinity with the stories of other races will be self-evident. Thus we have the “Wishing Tree” of the Hindoos, the _Kalpa Vriksha_ of Somadeva, and of the German Fairy Tales in the “Pumpkin Tree”, which throws down as many pumpkins as the poor widow wishes. In one story we have “Boots” to the life, while the man whom he outwits is own brother to the Norse Trolls. In another we find a “speaking beast”, which reminds us at once of the Egyptian story of Anessou and Satou, as well as of the “Machandelboom”, and “the Milk-white Doo”. We find here the woman who washes the dirty head rewarded, and the man who refuses to wash it punished, in the very words used in “The Bushy Bride”. We find, too, in “Nancy Fairy”, the same story, both in groundwork and incident, as we have in “the Lassie and her Godmother”; and most surprising of all, in the story of “Ananzi and Quanqua”, we find the very trait about a trick played with the tail of an ox, which is met with in a variation to “Boots who ate a match with the Troll”. Here is the variation: “Whilst he was with the Troll, the lad was to go out to watch the swine, so he drove them home to his father’s house, but first he cut their tails off, and stuck them into the ground. Then he went home to the Troll, and begged him to come and see how his swine were going down to Hell. But when the Troll saw the swine’s tails sticking out of the ground he wanted to pull them back again, so he caught hold of them and gave a great tug, and then down he fell with his heels up in the air, and the tails in his fist.”
They are called “Ananzi Stories”, because so many of them turn on the feats of Ananzi, whose character is a mixture of “the Master-thief”, and of “Boots”; but the most curious thing about him, is that he illustrates the Beast Epic in a remarkable way. In all the West Indian Islands, “Ananzi” is the name of spiders[1] in general, and of a very beautiful spider with yellow stripes in particular. The Negroes think that this spider is the “Ananzi” of their stories, but that his superior cunning enables him to take any shape he pleases. In fact, he is the example which the African tribes from which these stories came, have chosen to take as pointing out the superiority of wit over brute strength. In this way they have matched the cleverness and dexterity of the Spider, against the bone and muscle of the Lion, invariably to the disadvantage of the latter.
[1] Compare Crowther’s _Yoruba Glossary_, where _Alansasa_ is given as the Yoruban for _spider_. The change of _n_ into _l_ is not uncommon, even supposing the West Indian word to be uncorrupt.
After this introduction, we let the Tales speak for themselves, only premising that the “Jack-Spaniard” in the first story is a very pretty fly of the wasp kind, and, like his European brother, very small in the waist; that the “Cush-cush”, is a little red yam which imparts a strong red dye to everything with which it is boiled; and that the “Doukana” is a forest tree which bears a fruit, though of what kind it is hard to say.
APPENDIX
WHY THE JACK-SPANIARD’S WAIST IS SMALL
Ananzi and Mosquito were talking together one day, and boasting of their fathers’ crops. Ananzi said his father had never had such a crop in his life before; and Mosquito said, he was sure his father’s was bigger, for one yam they dug was as big as his leg. This tickled Jack-Spaniard so much, that he laughed till he broke his waist in two. That’s why the Jack-Spaniard’s waist is so small.
ANANZI AND THE LION
Once on a time Ananzi planned a scheme. He went to town and bought ever so many firkins of fat, and ever so many sacks, and ever so many balls of string, and a very big frying pan, then he went to the bay and blew a shell, and called the Head-fish in the sea, “Green Eel”, to him. Then he said to the fish, “The King sends me to tell you that you must bring all the fish on shore, for he wants to give them new life.”
So “Green Eel” said he would, and went to call them. Meanwhile Ananzi lighted a fire, and took out some of the fat, and got his frying pan ready, and as fast as the fish came out of the water he caught them and put them into the frying pan, and so he did with all of them until he got to the Head-fish, who was so slippery that he couldn’t hold him, and he got back again into the water.
When Ananzi had fried all, the fish, he put them into the sacks, and took the sacks on his back and set off to the mountains. He had not gone very far when he met Lion, and Lion said to him”:
“Well, brother Ananzi, where have you been? I have not seen you a long time.”
Ananzi said, “I have been travelling about.”
“But what have you got there?” said the Lion.
“Oh! I have got my mother’s bones—she has been dead these forty-eleven years, and they say I must not keep her here, so I am taking her up into the middle of the mountains to bury her.”
Then they parted. After he had gone a little way, the Lion said, “I know that Ananzi is a great rogue; I daresay he has got something there that he doesn’t want me to see, and I will just follow him”; but he took care not to let Ananzi see him.
Now, when Ananzi got into the wood he set his sacks down, and took one fish out and began to eat; then a fly came, and Ananzi said, “I cannot eat any more, for there is some one near”; so he tied the sack up, and went on further into the mountains, where he set his sacks down, and took out two fish, which he ate; and no fly came, he said, “There’s no one near”; so he took out more fish. But when he had eaten about half-a-dozen, the Lion came up, and said:
“Well, brother Ananzi, a pretty tale you have told me.”
“Oh! brother Lion, I am so glad you have come; never mind what tale I have told you, but come and sit down—it was only my fun.”
So Lion sat down and began to eat; but before Ananzi had eaten two fish, Lion had emptied one of the sacks. Then said Ananzi to himself:
“Greedy fellow, eating up all my fish.”
“What do you say, sir?”
“I only said you do not eat half fast enough”, for he was afraid the Lion would eat him up.
Then they went on eating, but Ananzi wanted to revenge himself, and he said to the Lion, “Which of us do you think is the strongest?”
The Lion said, “Why, I am, of course.”
Then Ananzi said, “We will tie one another to the tree and we shall see which is the stronger.”
Now they agreed that the Lion should tie Ananzi first, and he tied him with some very fine string, and did not tie him tight. Ananzi twisted himself about two or three times, and the string broke.
Then it was Ananzi’s turn to tie the Lion, and he took some very strong cord. The Lion said, “You must not tie me tight, for I did not tie you tight.” And Ananzi said, “Oh! no, to be sure I will not.” But he tied him as tight as ever he could, and then told him to try and get loose.
The Lion tried and tried in vain—he could not get loose. Then Ananzi thought, now is my chance; so he got a big stick and beat him, and then went away and left him, for he was afraid to loose him lest he should kill him.
Now there was a woman called Miss Nancy, who was going out one morning to get some “callalou” (spinach) in the wood, and as she was going, she heard some one say, “Good morning, Miss Nancy!” She could not tell who spoke to her, but she looked where the voice came from, and saw the Lion tied to the tree.
“Good morning, Mr Lion, what are you doing there?”
He said, “It is all that fellow Ananzi who has tied me to the tree, but will you loose me?”
But she said, “No, for I am afraid, if I do, you will kill me.” But he gave, her his word he would not; still she could not trust him; but he begged her again and again, and said:
“Well, if I do try to eat you, I hope all the trees will cry out shame upon me.”
So at last she consented; but she had no sooner loosed him, than he came up to her to eat her, for he had been so many days without food that he was quite ravenous, but the trees immediately cried out “shame”, and so he could not eat her. Then she went away as fast as she could, and the Lion found his way home.
When Lion got home he told his wife and children all that happened to him, and how Miss Nancy had saved his life, so they said they would have a great dinner, and ask Miss Nancy. Now when Ananzi heard of it, he wanted to go to the dinner, so he went to Miss Nancy, and said she must take him with her as her child, but she said “No”. Then he said, I can turn myself into quite a little child, and then you can take me, and at last she said “Yes”; and he told her, when she was asked what pap her baby ate, she must be sure to tell them it did not eat pap, but the same food as every one else; and so they went, and had a very good dinner, and set off home again—but somehow one of the lion’s sons fancied that all was not right, and he told his father he was sure it was Ananzi, and the Lion set out after him.
Now as they were going along, before the Lion got up to them, Ananzi begged Miss Nancy to put him down, that he might run, which she did, and he got away and ran along the wood, and the Lion ran after him. When he found the Lion was overtaking him, he turned himself into an old man with a bundle of wood on his head—and when the Lion got up to him, he said, “Good-morning, Mr Lion”, and the Lion said “Good-morning, old gentleman.”
Then the old man said, “What are you after now? “and the Lion asked if he had seen Ananzi pass that way, but the old man said “No, that fellow Ananzi is always meddling with some one; what mischief has he been up to now?”
Then the Lion told him, but the old man said it was no use to follow him any more, for he would never catch him, and so the Lion wished him good day, and turned and went home again.
ANANZI AND QUANQUA
Quanqua was a very clever fellow, and he had a large house full of all sorts of meat. But you must know he had a way of saying _Quan? qua?_ (how? what?) when any one asked him anything and so they called him “Quanqua”. One day when he was out, he met Atoukama, Ananzi’s wife, who was going along driving an ox, but the ox would not walk, so Atoukama asked Quanqua to help her; and they got on pretty well, till they came to a river, when the ox would not cross through the water. Then Atoukama called to Quanqua to drive the ox across, but all she could get out of him was, “QUAN? QUA? _Quan? qua?_” At last she said, “Oh! you stupid fellow, you’re no good; stop here and mind the ox while I go and get help to drive him across.” So off she went to fetch Ananzi. As soon as Atoukama was gone away, Quanqua killed the ox, and hid it all away, where Ananzi should not see it; but first he cut off the tail, then he dug a hole near the river side and stuck the tail partly in, leaving out the tip. When he saw Ananzi coming, he caught hold of the tail, pretending to tug at it as if he were pulling the ox out of the hole. Ananzi seeing this, ran up as fast as he could, and tugging at the tail with all his might, fell over into the river, but he still had hold of the tail, and contrived to get across the water, when he called out to Quanqua, “You idle fellow, you couldn’t take care of the ox, so you shan’t have a bit of the tail”, and then on he went. When he was gone quite out of sight, Quanqua took the ox home, and made a very good dinner.
Next day he went to Ananzi’s house, and said, Ananzi must give him some of the tail, for he had got plenty of yams, but he had no meat. Then they agreed to cook their pot together. Quanqua was to put in white yams, and Ananzi the tail, and red yams. When they came to put the yams in, Quanqua put in a great many white yams, but Ananzi only put in one little red cush-cush yam. Quanqua asked him if that little yam would be enough, he said, “Oh! plenty”, for I don’t eat much.
When the pot boiled, they uncovered it, and sat down to eat their shares, but they couldn’t find any white yams at all; the little red one had turned them all red. So Ananzi claimed them all, and Quanqua was glad to take what Ananzi would give him.
Now, when they had done eating, they said they would try which could bear heat best, so they heated two irons, and Ananzi was to try first on Quanqua, but he made so many attempts, that the iron got cold before he got near him; then it was Quanqua’s turn, and he pulled the iron out of the fire, and poked it right down Ananzi’s throat.
THE EAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN
[This tale is imperfect at the beginning.]
Ananzi said to the King, that if he would give him an ear of corn, he would bring him twelve strong men. The King gave him the ear of corn, and he went away. At last he got to a house, where he asked for a night’s lodging which was given him; the next morning he got up very early, and threw the ear of corn out of the door to the fowls, and went back to bed. When he got up in the morning, he looked for his ear of corn, and could not find it anywhere, so he told them he was sure the fowls had eaten it, and he would not be satisfied unless they gave him the best cock they had. So they were obliged to give him the cock, and he went away with it, all day, until night, when he came to another house, and asked again for a night’s lodging, which he got; but when they wanted to put the cock into the fowl-house, he said no, the cock must sleep in the pen with the sheep, so they put the cock with the sheep. At midnight he got up, killed the cock, threw it back into the pen, and went back to bed. Next morning when it was time for him to go away, his cock was dead, and he would not take anything for it but one of the best sheep, so they gave it to him, and he went off with it all that day, until night-fall, when he got to a village, where he again asked for a night’s lodging, which was given to him, and when they wanted to put his sheep with the other sheep, he said, no, the sheep must sleep with the cattle; so they put the sheep with the cattle. In the middle of the night he got up and killed the sheep, and went back to bed. Next morning he went for his sheep, which was dead, so he told them they must give him the best heifer for his sheep, and if they would not do so, he would go back and tell the King, who would come and make war on them.
So to get rid of him, they were glad to give him the heifer, and let him go; and away he went, and walked nearly all day with the heifer. Towards evening he met a funeral, and asked whose it was? one of the men said, it was his sister, so he asked the men if they would let him have her; they said no, but after a while, he begged so hard, saying he would give them the heifer, that they consented, and he took the dead body and walked away, carrying it until it was dark, when he came to a large town, where he went to a house and begged hard for a night’s lodging for himself and his sister, who was so tired he was obliged to carry her, and they would be thankful if they would let them rest there that night. So they let them in, and he asked them to let them sit in the dark, as his sister could not bear the light. So they took them into a room, and left them in the dark; and when they were alone, he seated himself on a bench near the table, and put his sister close by his side, with his arm round her to keep her up. Presently they brought them in some supper; one plate he set before his sister, and put her hand in it, and the other plate for himself, but he ate out of both plates. When it was time to go to bed, he asked if they would allow his sister to sleep in a room where there were twelve strong men sleeping, for she had fits, and if she had one in the night, they would be able to hold her, and would not disturb the rest of the house. So they agreed to this, and he carried her in his arms, because, he said she was so tired, she was asleep, and laid her in a bed; he charged the men not to disturb her, and went himself to sleep in the next room. In the middle of the night he heard the men calling out, for they smelt a horrid smell, and tried to wake the woman-first one man gave her a blow, and then another, until all the men had struck her, but Ananzi took no notice of the noise. In the morning when he went in for his sister and found her dead, he declared they had killed her, and that he must have the twelve men; to this the townsmen said no, not supposing that all the men had killed her, but the men confessed that they had each given her a blow-so he would not be satisfied with less than the twelve, and he carried them off to the King, and delivered them up.
THE KING AND THE ANT’S TREE
There was a King who had a very beautiful daughter, and he said, whoever would cut down an Ant’s tree, which he had in his kingdom, without brushing off the ants, should marry his daughter. Now a great many came and tried, but no one could do it, for the ants fell out upon them and stung them, and they were forced to brush them off. There was always someone watching to see if they brushed the ants off.
Then Ananzi went, and the King’s son was set to watch him. When they showed him the tree, he said, “Why, that’s nothing, I know I can do that.” So they gave him the axe, and he began to hew, but each blow he gave the tree, he shook himself and brushed himself, saying all the while, “Did you see me do that? I suppose you think I’m brushing myself, but I am not.” And so he went, on until he had cut down the tree. But the boy thought he was only pretending to brush himself all the time, and the King was obliged to give him his daughter.
THE LITTLE CHILD AND THE PUMPKIN TREE
There was once a poor widow who had six children. One day when she was going out to look for something to eat, for she was very poor, she met an old man sitting by the river side. He said to her “Good morning.”
And she answered, “Good morning, father.”
He said to her, “Will you wash my head?”
She said she would, so she washed it, and when she was going away, he gave her a “stampee,”[1] and told her to go a certain distance, and she would see a large tree full of pumpkins; she was then to dig a hole at the root of the tree and bury the money, and when she had done so, she was to call for as many pumpkins as she liked, and she should have them.
[1] A small coin.
So the woman went, and did as she was told, and she called for six pumpkins, one for each child, and six came down, and she carried them home; and now they always had pumpkins enough to eat, for whenever they wanted any, the woman had only to go to the tree and call, and they had as many as they liked. One morning when she got up, she found a little baby before the door, so she took it up and carried it in, and took care of it. Every day she went out, but in the morning she boiled enough pumpkins to serve the children all day. One day when she came back she found the food was all gone, so she scolded her children, and beat them for eating it all up. They told her they had not taken any—that it was the baby—but she would not believe them, and said, “How could a little baby get up and help itself”; but the children still persisted it was the baby. So one day when she was going out, she put some pumpkin in a calabash, and set a trap over it. When she was gone the baby got up as usual to eat the food, and got its head fastened in the trap, so that it could not get out, and began knocking its head about and crying out, “Oh! do loose me, for that woman will kill me when she comes back.” When the woman came in, she found the baby fastened in the trap, so she beat it well, and turned it out of doors, and begged her children’s pardon for having wronged them.
Then after she turned the baby out, he changed into a great big man, and went to the river, where he saw the old man sitting by the river side, who asked him to wash his head, as he had asked the poor woman, but the man said:
“No, he would not wash his dirty head”, and so he wished the old man “good bye”.
Then the old man asked him if he would like to have a pumpkin, to which he said “yes”, and the old man told him to go on till he saw a large tree with plenty of pumpkins on it, and then he must ask for one. So he went on till he got to the tree, and the pumpkins looked so nice he could not be satisfied with one, so he called out, “Ten pumpkins come down”, and the ten pumpkins fell and crushed him.