Category: Wild animals

Categories
1920s African American Dogs Folktale Short Story Wild animals

The Dog and the Clever Rabbit

The Dog and the Clever Rabbit

By A. O. Stafford
Annotations by Rene Marzuk
Gerald H. Thayer. The Cotton-Tail Rabbit among Dry Grasses and Leaves. Opaque watercolor with touches of translucent watercolor and graphite on smooth-textured paper-surfaced pulp board, 1904, Brooklyn Museum, NY. Public domain.

There were many days when the animals did not think about the kingship. They thought of their games and their tricks, and would play them from the rising to the setting of the sun.

Now, at that time, the little rabbit was known as a very clever fellow. His tricks, his schemes, and his funny little ways caused much mischief and at times much anger among his woodland cousins.[1]

At last the wolf made up his mind to catch him and give him a severe punishment for the many tricks he had played upon him.[2]

Knowing that the rabbit could run faster than he, the wolf called at the home of the dog to seek his aid. “Brother dog, frisky little rabbit must be caught and punished. For a nice bone will you help me?” asked the wolf.

“Certainly, my good friend,” answered the dog, thinking of the promised bone.

“Be very careful, the rabbit is very clever,” said the wolf as he left.

A day or so later while passing through the woods the dog saw the rabbit frisking in the tall grass. Quick as a flash the dog started after him. The little fellow ran and, to save himself, jumped into the hollow of an oak tree. The opening was too small for the other to follow and as he looked in he heard only the merry laugh of the frisky rabbit, “Hee, hee! hello, Mr. Dog, you can’t see me.”

“Never mind, boy, I will get you yet,” barked the angry dog.

A short distance from the tree a goose was seen moving around looking for her dinner.

“Come, friend goose, watch the hollow of this tree while I go and get some moss and fire to smoke out this scamp of a rabbit,” spoke the dog, remembering the advice of the wolf.

“Of course I’ll watch, for he has played many of his schemes upon me,” returned the bird.

R. Metzeroth. Rabbit standing on hind legs. Lithograph, circa 1853-1856, Library of Congress.

When the dog left, the rabbit called out from his hiding place, “How can you watch, friend goose, when you can’t see me?”

“Well, I will see you then,” she replied. With these words she pushed her long neck into the hollow of the tree. As the neck of the goose went into the opening the rabbit threw the dust of some dry wood into her eyes.

“Oh, oh, you little scamp, you have made me blind,” cried out the bird in pain. Then while the goose was trying to get the dust from her eyes the rabbit jumped out and scampered away.

In a short while the dog returned with the moss and fire, filled the opening, and, as he watched the smoke arise, barked with glee, “Now I have you, my tricky friend, now I have you.” But as no rabbit ran out the dog turned to the goose and saw from her red, streaming eyes that something was wrong.

“Where is the rabbit, friend goose?” he quickly asked.

“Why, he threw wood dust into my eyes when I peeped into the opening.” At once the dog knew that the rabbit had escaped and became very angry.

“You silly goose, you foolish bird with web feet, I will kill you now for such folly.” With these words the dog sprang for the goose, but only a small feather was caught in his mouth as the frightened bird rose high in the air and flew away.

Stafford, A. O. “The Dog and the Clever Rabbit,” IN THE UPWARD PATH: A READER FOR COLORED CHILDREN, ED. MYRON T. PRITCHARD AND MARY WHITE OVINGTON, 109-12. HARCOURT, BRACE AND HOWE, 1920.

A. B. Frost. Br’er Rabbit. Watercolor, ca. 1881-1928, Collection of the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, MA. Public domain.

[1] Rabbits are usually trickster characters in African, African-American, and Native American Culture. Br’er Rabbit, for example, is a trickster that recurs in many stories from the oral traditions of enslaved communities from the Southern United States.

[2] There are three recognized species of American wolf: the gray wolf, the eastern wolf, and the American red wolf. 

Contexts

This short story was included in The Upward Path: A Reader for Colored Children, published in 1920 and compiled by Myron T. Pritchard and Mary White Ovington. The volume’s foreword states that, “to the present time, there has been no collection of stories and poems by Negro writers, which colored children could read with interest and pleasure and in which they could find a mirror of the traditions and aspirations of their race.”

Definitions from Oxford English Dictionary:

  • scamp: A good-for-nothing, worthless person, a ne’er-do-well, “waster”; a rascal. Also playfully as a mild term of reproof.
Resources for Further Study
  • Overview of tricksters in African American literature..

Categories
1910s Fairy Tale Forests Poem Wild animals

The Moon in the Wood

The Moon in the Wood

By Madison Julius Cawein
Annotations by Mary Miller/KK
Ivan Bilibin. Fairy Forest at Sunset. 1906. Public domain. Courtesy of Wikimedia.

I.

From hill and hollow, side by side,
The shadows came, like dreams, to sit
And watch, mysterious, sunset-eyed,
The wool-winged moths and bats aflit,
And the lone owl that cried and cried.


And then the forest rang a gong,
Hoarse, toadlike; and from out the gate
Of darkness came a sound of song,
As of a gnome that called his mate,
Who answered in his own strange tongue.


And all the forest leaned to hear,
And saw, from forth the entangling trees,
A naked spirit drawing near,
A glimmering presence, whom the breeze
Kept whispering, “Forward! Have no fear.”

II.

The woodland, seeming at a loss,
Afraid to breathe, or make a sound,
Poured, where her silvery feet should cross,
A dripping pathway on the ground,
And hedged it in with ferns and moss.


And then the silence sharply shook
A cricket tambourine; and Night
From out her musky bosom took
A whippoorwill flute, and, lost to sight
Sat piping to a wildwood brook.


Until from out the shadows came
A furtive foot, a gleam, a glow;
And with a lamp of crystal flame
The spirit stole, as white as snow,
And put the firmament to shame.

III.

Then up and down vague movements went,
As if the faeries sought an herb;
And here and there a bush was bent,
A wildflower raised: the wood-pool’s curb
Was circled with a scarf of scent.


And deep within her house of weeds
Old Mystery hung a glowworm lamp,
And decked her hair with firefly beads,
And sate herself ‘mid dew and damp,
And crooned a love-song to the reeds.


Then through the gates of solitude,
Where Witchery her shuttle plied,
The Spirit entered, white and nude
And where she went, on every side,
Dreams followed through the solitude.

CAWEIN, MADISON JULIUS. “THE MOON IN THE WOOD“, IN MINIONS OF THE MOON, 25-26. STEWART & KIDD COMPANY, 1913.
Contexts

“The Moon in the Wood” was included in Cawein’s collection of poems for children Minions of the Moon, A Little Book of Song and Story, published in 1913, was inscribed with the words “To All Children, big and little, who have ever believed or still believe in faeries, I dedicate this little book, that attempts to set forth in wolds all that such a belief may mean to the soul of man.”

Cawein’s love of nature and otherworldly spirits came to him early; his father was an herbalist who made patent medicines, and his mother was interested in spiritualism. His poems reflect his love of nature and his fascination with the spiritual creatures depicted by fairies and elves.

Definitions from the Oxford English Dictionary:

aflit: A light movement, as of a bird’s wing; a flutter; a light touch.

hollow: An area that is lower than the surface around it, especially on the ground.

sate: To fill or satisfy to the full with food, nourishment, etc.; to indulge or gratify fully with the satisfaction of an appetite or desire.

Resources for Further Study
  • The Story of a Poet: Madison Cawein includes biographical information about the poet as well as critical reviews and anecdotes from contemporaries.
  • Read all the poems in Minions of the Moon.
  • The Fairy Mythology by Thomas Kneightley, originally published in 1828, is a source for understanding the context for many of Cawein’s poems.
  • Spiritualism is a movement based on the belief that departed souls can interact with the living. The Fox sisters from Hydesville, New York, sparked the modern Spiritualist movement in 1848, with one sister, Maggie, eventually confessing that their performances were a farce.
Contemporary Connections

Fairies are messengers from another world with powers beyond that of any mortal human being. The enormous popularity of children’s books based on magic, such as the Harry Potter series and remakes of fairy tales in popular films such as Frozen and Beauty and the Beast demonstrate that otherworldly beings still appeal to many people, perhaps especially children.

Categories
1920s Poem Wild animals

The Considerate Crocodile

The Considerate Crocodile

By Amos R. Wells
Annotations by Mary Miller
Insincere crying crocodile. From The Collected Poems of Amos R. Wells
(Boston: The Christian Endeavor World, 1921), 94. Public domain.

There once was a considerate crocodile
Who lay on the banks of the river Nile,
And he swallowed a fish with a face of woe,
While his tears ran fast to the stream below.
“I am mourning,” said he, “the untimely fate
Of the dear little fish that I just now ate!” [1]

Wells, Amos R. “The Considerate Crocodile,” In The Collected Poems of Amos R. Wells, 94. Boston: The Christian Endeavor World, 1921.

[1] This poem explains the expression “crocodile tears,” meaning insincere sorrow or regret.

Contexts

Moral lessons are a common component of children’s literature. This poem is no exception. The author was a prolific Christian writer of works for adults and children. In 1921 he published The Collected Poems of Amos R. Wells under the imprint of the Christian Endeavor World, a magazine he edited. His works include books dealing with young people’s work, religious education, juvenile fiction, poetry, and devotional literature. The Christian perspective is pervasive and significant in much of the Western world. Listening to the stories and traditions of other religions, including indigenous faiths, will add depth to the conversation on the connection between ethics and environmental sustainability.

Resources for Further Study
Contemporary Connections

Hypocrisy is alive and well in today’s society. This poem provides a humorous way to broach the topic with young people. This delightful poem can serve as a springboard to teach students about hypocrisy and how sincerity relates to ethics. Teachers could ask children to first interpret the poem and then share other examples of this kind of behavior and to explain why it is not good.

Lessons in morality and ethics can help teach children how to respond in a meaningful way to such problems as climate change. Climate change is a global concern, and therefore students must develop empathy for people who live in distant lands, such as Zimbabwe, whose lives are very different from their own. Anna Chitando’s article African Children’s Literature, Spirituality, and Climate Change examines the relevance of African children’s literature in contributing to the response to climate change and how traditional African folklore and children’s literature can teach children to respect the environment. Chitando observes that the global South, greatly impacted by climate change but poorly equipped to respond to the global North, is sounding the alarm. Two stories from the book Stories from a Shona Childhood by Charles Mungoshi, a leading Zimbabwean author, are featured in the article.

Mungoshi’s “The Slave Who Became Chief” portrays the importance of understanding indigenous approaches to the environment and emphasizes the importance of African spirituality in the face of climate change. In the story, a slave boy, Kakore, is able to save the kingdom from drought by praying for rain. The “Spirit of the Ashpit” is about a family living in a time of drought. The father is greedy and selfish; he pretends to care for his family but looks after only himself. The mother, Madiro, is an independent woman who takes matters into her own hands by praying to her female ancestors for help, despite a taboo against doing so as a woman. Madiro shows African women overcoming traditional African patriarchal constraints.

Categories
1910s African American Education Folktale Short Story Wild animals

The Boy and the Ideal

The Boy and the Ideal

By Joseph S. Cotter Sr.
Annotations by Rene Marzuk
Bullard, William. Portrait of a Boy Sitting on the Grass. Photograph, c. 1904, courtesy of Frank Morrill, Clark University and the Worcester Art Museum. Public Domain.

Once upon a time a Mule, a Hog, a Snake, and a Boy met. Said the Mule: “I eat and labor that I may grow strong in the heels. It is fine to have heels so gifted. My heels make people cultivate distance.”

Said the Hog: “I eat and labor that I may grow strong in the snout. It is fine to have a fine snout. I keep people watching for my snout.”

“No exchanging heels for snouts,” broke in the Mule.

“No’” answered the Hog; “snouts are naturally above heels.”

Said the Snake: “I eat to live, and live and cultivate my sting. The way people shun me shows my greatness. Beget stings, comrades, and stings will beget glory.”

Said the Boy: “There is a star in my life like unto a star in the sky. I eat and labor that I may think aright and feel aright. These rounds will conduct me to my star. Oh, inviting star!”

“I am not so certain of that,” said the Mule. “I have noticed your kind and ever see some of myself in them. Your star is in the distance.”

The Boy answered by smelling a flower and listening to the song of a bird. The Mule looked at him and said: “He is all tenderness and care. The true and the beautiful have robbed me of a kinsman. His star is near.”

Said the Boy: “I approach my star.”

“I am not so certain of that,” interrupted the Hog. “I have noticed your kind and I ever see some of myself in them. Your star is a delusion.”

The Boy answered by painting the flower and setting the notes of the bird’s song to music.

The Hog looked at the boy and said: “His soul is attuned by nature. The meddler in him is slain.”

“I can all but touch my star,” cried the Boy.

“I am not so certain of that,” remarked the Snake. “I have watched your kind and ever see some of myself in them. Stings are nearer than stars.”

The Boy answered by meditating upon the picture and music. The Snake departed, saying that stings and stars cannot keep company.

The Boy journeyed on, ever led by the star. Some distance away the Mule was bemoaning the presence of his heels and trying to rid himself of them by kicking a tree. The Hog was dividing his time between looking into a brook and rubbing his snout on a rock to shorten it. The Snake lay dead of its own bite. The Boy journeyed on, led by an ever inviting star.

Bridges, Fidelia. Bird on a Stalk, Singing. Chromolitograph, 1883, Library of Congress.
cotter, joseph s, sr. “the boy and the ideal,” in negro tales, 141-43. the cosmopolitan press, new york, 1912.
Contexts

This short story was also included in The Upward Path: A Reader for Colored Children, compiled by Myron T. Pritchard and Mary White Ovington, and published in 1920.

Definitions from Oxford English Dictionary:

  • beget: To get, obtain, acquire; to win, gain; to procure (something) for someone, furnish, provide. Also: to take hold of, seize.
  • kinsman: A man of one’s own kin.
  • meddler: A person who meddles or interferes in something; a nuisance, a troublemaker.
Resources for Further Study

Categories
1900s African American Poem Wild animals

De Critters’ Dance

De Critters’ Dance

By Paul Laurence Dunbar
Annotations by Rene Marzuk
Mazell, Peter. The Hedgehog from the Book The British Zoology by Thomas Pennant. Etching with Hand Coloring, 1766, Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco.
Ain't nobody nevah tol' you not a wo'd a-tall,
'Bout de time dat all de critters gin dey fancy ball?
Some folks tell it in a sto'y, some folks sing de rhyme,
'Peahs to me you ought to hyeahed it, case hit's ol' ez time.

Well, de critters all was p'osp'ous, now would be de chance
Fu' to tease ol' Pa'son Hedgehog, givin' of a dance;[1]
Case, you know, de critter's preachah was de stric'est kin',
An' he nevah made no 'lowance fu' de frisky min'.

So dey sont dey inbitations, Racoon writ 'em all,
"Dis hyeah note is to inbite you to de Fancy Ball;
Come erlong an' bring yo' ladies, bring yo' chillun too,
Put on all yo' bibs and tuckahs, show whut you kin do."

W'en de night come, dey all gathahed in a place dey knowed,
Fu' enough erway f'om people, nigh enough de road,
All de critters had ersponded, Hop-Toad up to Baih,
An' I's hyeah to tell you, Pa'son Hedgehog too, was daih.

Well, dey talked an' made dey 'bejunce, des lak critters do,
An' dey walked an' p'omenaded 'roun' an' thoo an' thoo;[2]
Jealous ol' Mis' Fox, she whispah, "See Mis' Wildcat daih,
Ain't hit scan'lous, huh a'comin' wid huh shouldahs baih?"

Ol' man T'utle was n't honin' fu' no dancin' tricks,
So he stayed by ol' Mis' Tu'tle, talkin' politics;
Den de ban' hit 'mence a-playin' critters all to place,
Fou' ercross, an' fou' stan' sideways, smilin' face to face.

'Fessah Frog, he play de co'net, Cricket play de fife,
Slews o' Grasshoppers a-fiddlin' lak to save dey life;
Mistah Crow, 'he call de figgers, settin' in a tree,
Huh, uh! how does critters sasshayed was a sight to see.

Mistah Possom swing Mis' Rabbit up an' down de flo',
Ol' man Baih, he ain't so nimble, an' it mek him blow;
Raccoon dancin' wid Mis Squ'il squeeze huh little han',
She say, "Oh, now ain't you awful, quit it, goodness lan'!"

Pa'son Hedgehog groanin' awful at his converts' shines,
'Dough he peepin' thoo his fingahs at dem movin' lines,
'Twell he cain't set still no longah w'en de fiddles sing,
Up he jump, an' bless you, honey, cut de pigeon-wing.[3]

Well, de critters lak to fainted jes' wid dey su'prise,
Sistah Fox, she vowed she was n't gwine to b'lieve huh eyes;
But dey could n't be no 'spurtin' 'bout it any mo':
Pa'son Hedgehog was a-cape'in' all erroun' de flo'.

Den dey all jes' capahed scan'lous case dey did n't doubt,
Dat dey still could go to meetin'; who could tu'n 'em out?
So wid dancin' an' uligion, dey was in de fol',
Fu' a-dancin' wid de Pa'son could n't hu't de soul.
Crane, Walter. Tailpiece with Dancing Foxes. Wood Engraving, 1914, in Household Stories from the Collection of the Bros. Grimm. Public Domain.
DuNBAR, Paul Laurence. “de critters’ dance.” The southern Workman, VOL. XXIX, NO. 11 (November 1900): 608-09.

[1] Hedgehogs are not native to America.

[2] p’omenaded: i.e. promenaded.

[3] According to the University of Wisconsin-Madison’s Dictionary of American Regional English, to cut the pigeon’s wing is to execute intricate dance steps gracefully.

Contexts

Paul Laurence Dunbar’s poem appeared in The Southern Workman magazine, an American journal “devoted to the interests of the black and red races,” according to its cover page. The magazine included sections on education and suggestions for school lessons. Dunbar received international acclaim for his dialect verse, but he also wrote many poems in standard English. Although the dialect may appear challenging, reading “De Critters’ Dance” aloud helps make the meanings clear.

Definitions from Oxford English Dictionary:

  • fiddle: A stringed instrument of music, usually the violin.
  • fife: A small shrill-toned instrument of the flute kind, used chiefly to accompany the drum in military music.
  • parson: A vicar or any other beneficed member of the clergy of the Church of England; a chaplain, curate, or any Anglican clergyman; a minister or preacher of any Christian denomination, a clergyman. Sometimes with pejorative connotation.
  • meeting: An assembly of people for worship.
  • sashay: To perform a chassé, especially in square dancing.
Resources for Further Study
Categories
1910s Folktale Native American Short Story Wild animals

Buffalo Tales of the Great Plains

Buffalo Tales of the Great Plains

Collected by Katherine Berry Judson
Annotations by Ian McLAughlin/JB
George Catlin. Stalking Buffalo, Arkansas. Oil on canvas, c. 1846-48, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington, D.C.
ORIGIN OF THE BUFFALO (Teton) [1]

In the days of the grandfathers, buffaloes lived under the earth. In the olden times, they say, a man who was journeying came to a hill where there were many holes in the ground. He entered one of them. When he had gone inside he found buffalo chips and buffalo tracks on all sides. He found also buffalo hairs where the buffaloes had rubbed against the walls. These were the real buffaloes and they lived under the ground. Afterwards some of them came to the surface of the earth and lived there. Then the herds on the earth increased.

These buffaloes had many lodges and there they raised their children. They did many strange things. Therefore when a man escapes being wounded by an enemy, people say he has seen the buffaloes in his dreams, and they have helped him.

Men who dream of the buffaloes act like them and dance the buffalo-bull dance. Then the man who acts the buffalo has a real buffalo inside of him, people say, a little hard ball near the shoulder blade; and therefore he is very hard to kill. No matter how often he is wounded, he does not die.

People know that the buffaloes live in earth lodges; so they never dance the buffalo dance vainly.

THE BUFFALO AND THE GRIZZLY BEAR (Omaha)

Grizzly Bear was going somewhere, following the course of a stream, and at last he went straight towards the headland. When he got in sight, Buffalo Bull was standing beneath it. Grizzly Bear retraced his steps, going again to the stream, following its course until he got beyond the headland. Then he drew near and peeped. He saw that Buffalo Bull was very lean, and standing with his head bowed, as if sluggish.

So Grizzly Bear crawled up close to him, made a rush, seized him by the hair of his head, and pulled down his head. He turned Buffalo Bull round and round, shaking him now and then, saying, “Speak! Speak! I have been coming to this place a long time, and they say you have threatened to fight me. Speak!” Then he hit Buffalo Bull on the nose with his open pa

“Why!” said Buffalo Bull, “I have never threatened to fight you, who have been coming to this country so long.”

“Not so! You have threatened to fight me.” Letting go the buffalo’s head, Grizzly Bear went around and seized him by the tail, turning him round and round. Then he left, but as he did so, he gave him a hard blow with his open paw.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! you have caused me great pain,” said Buffalo Bull. Bobtailed Grizzly Bear departed.

Buffalo Bull thought thus: “Attack him! You too have been just that sort of a person.”

Grizzly Bear knew what he was thinking, so he said, “Why! what are you saying?”

“I said nothing,” said Buffalo Bull.

Then Grizzly Bear came back. He seized Buffalo Bull by the tail, pulling him round and round. Then he seized him by the horns, pulling his head round and round. Then he seized him again by the tail and hit him again with the open paw. Again Grizzly Bear departed. And again Buffalo Bull thought as he had done before. Then Grizzly Bear came back and treated Buffalo Bull as he had before.

Buffalo Bull stepped backward, throwing his tail into the air.

“Why! Do not flee,” said Grizzly Bear.

John and Karen Hollingsworth. American Bison. Photograph, 1997, Digital Public Library of America.

Buffalo threw himself down, and rolled over and over. Then he continued backing, pawing the ground.

“Why! I say, do not flee,” said Grizzly Bear. When Buffalo Bull backed, making ready to attack him, Grizzly Bear thought he was scared.

Then Buffalo Bull ran towards Grizzly, puffing a great deal. When he neared him, he rushed on him. He sent Grizzly Bear flying through the air.

As Grizzly Bear came down towards the earth, Buffalo Bull caught him on his horns and threw him into the air again. When Grizzly Bear fell and lay on the ground, Buffalo Bull made at him with his horns to gore him, but just missed him. Grizzly Bear crawled away slowly, with Buffalo Bull following him step by step, thrusting at him now and then, though without striking him. When Grizzly Bear came to a cliff, he plunged over headlong, and landed in a thicket at the foot. Buffalo Bull had run so fast he could not stop at the edge where Grizzly Bear went over, but followed the cliff for some distance. Then he came back and stood with his tail partly raised. Grizzly Bear returned to the bank and peeped.

“Oh, Buffalo Bull,” said Grizzly Bear. “Let us be friends. We are very much alike in disposition.”

MY FIRST BUFFALO HUNT (Omaha)[2]
Julian Martinez. Buffalo Hunter. Watercolor, ink, and pencil on paperboard, c. 1920-1925,
Smithsonian American Art Museum and its Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C.

I went three times on the buffalo hunt. When I was there the first time, I was small; therefore, I did not shoot the buffaloes. But I used to take care of the pack horses for those who surrounded the herd. When they surrounded the herd at the very first, I spoke of shooting at the buffaloes. But my father said, “Perhaps the horse might throw you suddenly, and then the buffalo might gore you.” And I was in a bad humor.

My father went with me to the hill. We sat and looked on them when they attacked the buffaloes. And notwithstanding my father talked to me, I continued there without talking to him. At length one man was coming directly toward the tents in pursuit of a buffalo bull. And the buffalo bull was savage. He attacked the man now and then.

“Come! Go thither,” said my father. I tied a lariat on a large red mare that was very tall. And taking a very light gun which my father had, I went over there. When I arrived the buffalo bull was standing motionless. The man said he was very glad that I had come. The buffalo bull was savage. The man shot suddenly at him with a bow and wounded him on the back. And then he attacked us. The horse on which I was seated leaped very far four times, and had gone off, throwing me suddenly. When the buffalo bull had come very close, he wheeled around and departed. So I failed to shoot at him before he went. I reached home just as my mother was scolding my father about me. When the horse reached home with the bridle sticking to it, she knew that I had been thrown. My father said nothing at all, but sat laughing. Addressing me, he said, “Did you kill the buffalo bull?” And I did not speak.

JUDSON, KATHARINE BERRY., ED. “Origin of the buffalo,” in MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF the great plains, 53-54. A. C. McClurg & co., 1913.
JUDSON, KATHARINE BERRY., ED. “the buffalo and the grizzly bear,” IN MYTHS AND LEGENDS, 68-70.
JUDSON, KATHARINE BERRY., ED. “My first buffalo hunt,” IN MYTHS AND LEGENDS, 71-72.

[2] “The author, Frank La Flèche, an Omaha Indian, was about twelve years old when this occurred” (ed. footnote).

Contexts

Mistakenly called buffalo, the American Bison once roamed across North America in large numbers. Though we may never know how many bison were alive at their peak, experts believe they once numbered between 30 and 75 million. By 1800, the herds east of the Mississippi were killed off. By 1838, many herds in the northern and southern portions of the Great Plains were destroyed. There were only 300 wild bison by the turn of the 20th century. In 1894, Congress passed a law making it illegal to hunt bison in Yellowstone National Park. Twenty-one bison were purchased in 1902 to rebuild the Yellowstone herd. In 2019, the Yellowstone herd numbered nearly 5,000, and there were nearly 40,000 bison across North America.

The American bison is culturally important to the Native American tribes of the Great Plains region, including the Teton and Omaha tribes, from whom these stories were collected. The overhunting of the buffalo since the arrival of Europeans has had systemic effects on the land and the Native peoples.

Resources for Further Study
Ryan Hagerty. Bison on the National Bison Range. Photograph, 2003, Digital Public Library of America.
Contemporary Connections

There are several works of fiction regarding the Native American connection to the American Bison:

  • Buffalo Dreams by Kim Doner links the traditional connection to buffalo to the present day.
  • Buffalo Song by Joseph Bruchac (Abenaki) is a buffalo history: how they came to be, why they were almost killed off, and how Great Plains Natives still see them as sacred.
  • The Buffalo Jump by Peter Roop describes a traditional method for hunting buffalo.

[1] Judson includes the tribal origins of each tale with the title.

Categories
1890s 1910s Folktale Native American Wild animals

The Antelope Boy

The Antelope Boy

Collected by Charles Lummis
Annotations by Ian McLAughlin
Pronghorn Antelope – Jean Beaufort

Once upon a time there were two towns of the Tée-wahn, called Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee (white village) and Nah-choo-rée-too-ee (yellow village). A man of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee and his wife were attacked by Apaches while out on the plains one day and took refuge in a cave, where they were besieged. And there a boy was born to them. The father was killed in an attempt to return to his village for help; and starvation finally forced the mother to crawl forth by night seeking roots to eat. Chased by the Apaches, she escaped to her own village, and it was several days before she could return to the cave—only to find it empty.

The baby had begun to cry soon after her departure. Just then a Coyote[1] was passing, and heard. Taking pity on the child, he picked it up and carried it across the plain until he came to a herd of antelopes. Among them was a Mother-Antelope that had lost her fawn; and going to her the Coyote said:

“Here is an ah-bóo (poor thing) that is left by its people. Will you take care of it?”

The Coyote Carries the Baby to the Antelope Mother

The Mother-Antelope, remembering her own baby, with tears said “Yes” and at once adopted the tiny stranger, while the Coyote thanked her and went home.

So the boy became as one of the antelopes, and grew up among them until he was about twelve years old. Then it happened that a hunter came out from Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee for antelopes, and found this herd. Stalking them carefully, he shot one with an arrow. The rest started off, running like the wind; but ahead of them all, as long as they were in sight, he saw a boy! The hunter was much surprised, and, shouldering his game, walked back to the village, deep in thought. Here he told the Cacique[2] what he had seen. Next day the crier was sent out to call upon all the people to prepare for a great hunt, in four days,[3] to capture the Indian boy who lived with the antelopes.

While preparations were going on in the village, the antelopes in some way heard of the intended hunt and its purpose. The Mother-Antelope was very sad when she heard it, and at first would say nothing. But at last she called her adopted son to her and said: “Son you have heard that the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee are coming to hunt. But they will not kill us; all they wish is to take you. They will surround us, intending to let all the antelopes escape from the circle. You must follow me where I break through the line, and your real mother will be coming on the northeast side in a white manta (robe). I will pass close to her, and you must stagger and fall where she can catch you.”

On the fourth day all the people went out upon the plains. They found and surrounded the herd of antelopes, which ran about in a circle when the hunters closed upon them. The circle grew smaller and the antelopes began to break through; but the hunters paid no attention to them, keeping their eyes upon the boy. At last he and his antelope mother were the only ones left, and when she broke through the line on the northeast he followed her and fell at the feet of his own human mother, who sprang forward and clasped him in her arms.

Amid great rejoicing he was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee, and there he told the principales[4] how he had been left in the cave, how the Coyote had pitied him, and how the Mother-Antelope had reared him as her own son.

It was not long before all the country round about heard of the Antelope Boy and of his marvelous fleetness of foot. You must know that the antelpes never comb their hair, and while among them the boy’s head had grown very bushy. So the people called him Pée-hleh-o-wah-wée-deh (big-headed little boy).

Among the other villages that heard of his prowess was Nah-choo-rée-too-ee, all of whose people “had the bad road.”[5] They had a wonderful runner named Pée-k’hoo (Deer-foot), and very soon they sent a challenge to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee for a championship race. Four days were to be given for preparation, to make bets, and the like.

The race was to be around the world.[6] Each village was to stake all its property and the lives of all its people on the result of the race. So powerful were the witches of Nah-choo-rée-too-ee that they felt safe in proposing so serious a stake; and the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee were ashamed to decline the challenge.

The day came and the starting point was surrounded by all the people of the two villages, dressed in their best. On each side were huge piles of ornaments and dresses, stores of grain, and all the other property of the people. The runner for the yellow village was a tall, sinewy athlete, strong in his early manhood; and when the Antelope Boy appeared for the other side, the witches set up a howl of derision and began to strike their rivals and jeer at them, saying, “Pooh! We might as well begin to kill you now! What can that óo-deh (little thing) do?

At the word “Hái-ko!” (“Go!”) the two runners started toward the east like the wind. The Antelope Boy soon forged ahead; but Deer-foot, by his witchcraft, changed himself into a hawk and flew lightly over the lad, saying, “We do this way to each other!”[7] The Antelope Boy kept running, but his heart was very heavy, for he knew that no feet could equal the swift flight of the hawk.

But just as he came half-way to the east, a Mole came up from its burrow and said: “My son, where are you going so fast with a sad face?”

The lad explained that the race was for the property and the lives of all his people; and that the witch runner had turned into a hawk and left him far behind.

Rain Falls on Pée-K’Hoo

“Then, my son,” said the Mole, “I will be he that shall help you. Only sit down here a little while, and I will give you something to carry.”

The boy sat down, and the Mole diced into the hold, but soon came back with four cigarettes.[8]

Holding them out the Mold said, “Now, my son, when you have reached the east and turned north, smoke one; when you have reached the north and turn west, smoke another; when you turn south, another and when you turn east again, another. Hái-ko!”

The boy ran on, and soon reached the east. Turning his face to the north he smoked the first cigarette. No sooner was it finished than he became a young antelope; and at the same instant a furious rain began. Refreshed by the cool drops, he started like an arrow from the bow. Half-way to the north he came to a large tree; and there sat the hawk, drenched and chilled, unable to fly, and crying piteously.

“Now, friend, we too do this to each other,” called the boy-antelope as he dashed past. But just as he reached the north, the hawk—which had become dry after the short rain—caught up and passed him, saying, “We too do this to each other!” The boy-antelope turned westward, and smoked the second cigarette; and at once another terrific rain began.[9] Half-way to the west he again passed the hawk shivering and crying in a tree, and unable to fly; but as he was about to turn to the south, the hawk passed him with the customary taunt. The smoking of the third cigarette brought another storm, and again the antelope passed the wet hawk half-way, and again the hawk dried its feathers in time to catch up and pass him as he was turning to the east for the home-stretch. Here again the boy-antelope stopped and smoked a cigarette—the fourth and last. Again a short, hard rain came and again he passed the water-bound hawk half-way.

The Two Runners Came Sweeping Down the Home-stretch Straining Every Nerve

Knowing of the witchcraft of their neighbors, the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee had made the condition that, in whatever shape the racers might run the rest of the course, they must resume human form upon arrival at a certain hill upon the fourth turn, which was in sight of the goal. The last wetting of the hawk’s feathers delayed it so that the antelope reached the hill just ahead; and there, resuming their natural shapes, the two runners came sweeping down the home-stretch, straining at every nerve. But the Antelope Boy gained at each stride. When they saw him, the witch-people felt confident that he was their champion, and again began to push, and taunt, and jeer at their others. But when the little Antelope Boy sprang lightly across the line, far ahead of Deer-foot, their joy turned to mourning.

The people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee burned all the witches upon the spot, in a great pile of corn; but somehow one escaped, and from him come all the witches that trouble us to this day.

The property of the witches was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee; and as it was more than that village could hold, the surplus was sent to Shee-eh-whíb-bak (Isleta),[10] where we enjoy it to this day; and later the people themselves moved here. And even now, when we dig in that little hill on the other side of the charco (pools), we find charred corn-cobs, where our forefathers burned the witch-people of the yellow village.

LUMMIS, CHARLES FLETCHER. THE MAN WHO MARRIED THE MOON AND OTHER PUEBLO INDIAN FOLK-STORIES. THE MAN WHO MARRIED THE MOON AND OTHER PUEBLO INDIAN FOLK-STORIES, BY CHARLES LUMIS. NEW YORK, NY: THE CENTURY CO., 1894. HTTPS://HDL.HANDLE.NET/2027/UC2.ARK:/13960/T3WS8JC1P.

[1] The small prairie-wolf. (Lummis)
Coyote Tales of the Southwest has more coyote stories.

[2] The highest religious official (Lummis)

[3] Four is the most important number in many Native American cultures. It stands for a cycle of fertility, being found in the four ages of man, the four seasons, and the four cardinal directions.

[4] The old men who are the congress of the pueblo (Lummis)

[5] That is, were witches (Lummis)

[6] The Pueblos believed it was an immense plain whereon the racers were to race over a square course—to the extreme east, then to the extreme north, and so on, back to the starting point. (Lummis)

[7] A common Indian taunt, either good-natured or bitter, to the loser of a game or to a conquered enemy (Lummis)

[8] These are made by putting a certain weed called pee-én-hleh into hollow reeds. (Lummis)

[9]The cigarette plays an important part in the Pueblo folk-stories,—they never had the pipe of the Northern Indians, —and all the rain-clouds are supposed to come from its smoke. (Lummis)

[10] Isleta is the largest of the Tée-wahn pueblos and the second-largest pueblo overall.

Contexts

Stories of humans raised by animals are almost as old as civilization. The story of Romulus and Remus from Roman mythology, Kippling’s Mowgli, and Incident at Hawk’s Hill (1971) by naturalist and writer Allan W. Eckert all use this trope. In most cases, this connection to nature is accompanied by animal-like abilities, such as ferocity in battle, literally talking to animals, or, in the case of “The Antelope Boy” running as fast as an antelope.

Resources for Further Study
  • “The Sacred Hoop: A Contemporary Perspective on Native American Literature” from The Sacred Hoop: Recovering the Feminine in American Indian Traditions by Paula Gunn Allen is a great essay on how to read Native Literature as a non-Native.
  • The Man Who Married the Moon by Charles Lummis (also published under the title Pueblo Indian folk-stories) is an excellent resource on the stories and the culture of the Tée-wahn pueblos of New Mexico.
  • “Locating the Human in Performance” from Affect, Animals, and Autists: Feeling Around the Edges of the Human in Performance by Marla Carlson touches on the idea of the feral child and how it shapes our understanding of civilization.
Pedagogy

Despite the cigarette imagery, this story is great for a comparative reading with other stories of children raised by animals, such as those listed in the Contexts section above.

Contemporary Connections

Avatar: The Last Airbender features a character raised by giant badger-like creatures.
The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kippling and the subsequent movies, including the most recent Disney version, have captured imaginations for more than a century.

Categories
1900s Birds Native American Short Story Wild animals

Battle of the Owls

Battle of the Owls

By Joseph M. Poepoe (Kānaka Maoli)
Annotations by Jessica cory
Printed panel, entitled "The Owl" with front, back and bottom views of a perched owl in shades of brown, green and yellow, meant to be cut and sewn into a stuffed toy. Sewing instructions are printed in the center. "Arnold Print Works, North Adams, MA" is printed on the upper left corner.
Artist unknown, The Owl, Printed by Arnold Print Works, N. Adams, Mass. Textile (engraved roller on plain weave
cotton), 1892, Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, New York, NY.

The following is a fair specimen of the animal myths current in ancient Hawaii, and illustrates the place held by the owl in Hawaiian mythology.

There lived a man named Kapoi, at Kahehuna, in Honolulu, who went one day to Kewalo to get some thatching for his house. On his way back he found some owl’s eggs, which he gathered together and brought home with him. In the evening he wrapped them in ti leaves[1] and was about to roast them in hot ashes, when an owl perched on the fence which surrounded his house and called out to him, “O Kapoi, give me my eggs!”

Kapoi asked the owl, “How many eggs had you?”

“Seven eggs,” replied the owl.

Kapoi then said, “Well, I wish to roast these eggs for my supper.”

The owl asked the second time for its eggs, and was answered by Kapoi in the same manner. Then said the owl, “O heartless Kapoi! why don’t you take pity on me? Give me my eggs.”

Kapoi then told the owl to come and take them.

The owl, having got the eggs, told Kapoi to build up a heiau, or temple, and instructed him to make an altar and call the temple by the name of Manua. Kapoi built the temple as directed; set kapu[2] days for its dedication, and placed the customary sacrifice on the altar.

News spread to the hearing of Kakuihewa, who was then King of Oahu, living at the time at Waikiki, that a certain man had kapued certain days for his heiau, and had already dedicated it. This King had made a law that whoever among his people should erect a heiau and kapu the same before the King had his temple kapued, that man should pay the penalty of death. Kapoi was thereupon seized, by the King’s orders, and led to the heiau of Kupalaha, at Waikiki.

That same day, the owl that had told Kapoi to erect a temple gathered all the owls from Lanai, Maui, Molokai, and Hawaii to one place at Kalapueo. [3] All those from the Koolau districts were assembled at Kanoniakapueo, [4] and those from Kauai and Niihau at Pueohulunui, near Moanalua.

It was decided by the King that Kapoi should be put to death on the day of Kane. [5] When that day came, at daybreak the owls left their places of rendezvous and covered the whole sky over Honolulu; and as the King’s servants seized Kapoi to put him to death, the owls flew at them, pecking them with their beaks and scratching them with their claws. Then and there was fought the battle between Kakuihewa’s people and the owls. At last the owls conquered, and Kapoi was released, the King acknowledging that his Akua (god) was a powerful one. From that time the owl has been recognized as one of the many deities venerated by the Hawaiian people.

Poepoe, Joseph m. “battle of the owls,” in hawaiian folk tales: a collection of native legends, ed. thomas g. thrum, 200-202. a.c. mcclurg & co., 1907.

[1] Ti leaves are leaves of Cordyline fruticosa, a tree that grows in the Pacific Islands. Its leaves are often used to wrap foods before cooking, similar to how corn husks are used for tamales.

[2] Kapu is a traditional code of conduct that governed many interpersonal, spiritual, and government interactions. By making “kapu days,” Kapoi would create holy days or dedicate them to a higher power. The word contemporarily means “taboo” or “avoid.”

[3] Situated beyond Diamond Head, a volcanic cone on Oahu.

[4] In Nuuanu Valley.

[5] When the moon is 27 days old.

Contexts

This story reminds us that while owls often signify death in some Native American tribes, particular tribal meanings or symbols are not universally true for all Indigenous peoples. It is also important to recognize that these are stories, not just myths. As stories, particularly Native Hawaiian stories (moʻolelos), there are many layers of meaning that a reader outside of that culture may not fully understand. For more information on moʻolelos, check out Kumakahi: Living Hawaiian Culture.

Resources for Further Study

Categories
1920s African American Poem Wild animals

At the Zoo

Direct capture

At the Zoo

By Jessie Redmon Fauset
Annotations by Catherine Bowlin
Henry Ossawa Tanner. Lions in the Desert. Oil on canvas mounted on plywood, ca. 1897-1900, Smithsonian American Art Museum and its Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C.[1]
MY mother said to me, “Now, mind,
To animals be always kind;
To every creature, bird or beast,
Show courtesy, to say the least!” 
And then she took me to the Zoo,
(She said she’d nothing else to do,)
And showed me beasts of many styles,
From prairie dogs to crocodiles. 
And take it from me, when I say
I didn’t feel like getting gay, 
Or doing them a bit of harm.
I wouldn’t touch them for a farm.
The elephant—they called him “Dunk,” 
Looked mild, but had a squirmy trunk. 
The panther and the wolf and bear,
Threw into me an awful scare.
(The bear looked pretty good, ‘tis true,
But s’pose he started hugging you!)
The foxes didn’t need their labels—
I’d read of them in Aesop’s Fables! 
And next I saw a cassowary, [3] 
Who looked to me a bit contrary.
“Of bird and beast, I’ve had my fill,” 
I said, “Please take me home, I’m ill.
I promise to take your advice,
You’ll never have to tell me twice.”
But after I was home, in bed,
I pulled the covers ’round my head,
And saw those creatures at the Zoo,
And thought, “No wonder that they’re blue,
And look so cross and mean and mad,
They have enough to make them sad.
If I were locked up in a cage,
I’d just be in an awful rage. 
All original illustrations by Hilda Wilkinson from The Brownies’ Book p. 85-86. 
The lion was the first I saw,
I just looked at his awful paw
And thought, “I’ll never trouble you.” 
I thought that of the tiger, too;
He was a striped all black and real bright yellow. 
But I could never play with him,
His look just made my poor head swim.
The hippopotamus and his friend, 
Rhinoceros, stood my hair on end. 
The python and the anaconda,
Just made me grow of kindness, fonder. 
I might have liked the dromedary–– [2] 
But oh, his manner was so airy!
And, too, I danced the giraffe,
His long neck really made me laugh.
My mother said, “Come see the birds, 
They’re just too nice and sweet for words.” 
She showed me, first, a horned owl––
That really is an awful fowl! 
He blinked at me, as though to say,
“I’ll bite your fingers. Get away!” 
And then I say a pelican, 
With long, sharp duck-bill. Well, he can
Be sure I’ll never trouble him,
And where he swims, I’ll never swim. 

Perhaps they’ve children far away,
Or friends who watch for them each day;
Perhaps they dream at night, they’re free
In forests green and shadowy;
And then they wake to dull despair,—
And little boys who poke and stare.
Right then and there, I charged my mind,
To be to all God’s creatures kind.
And kind to them I’ll surely be
If only they’ll be kind to me! 

Fauset, Jessie. “At the Zoo.” The Brownies’ Book 1, no. 3 (March 1920): 85-86.

[2] An Arabian one-humped camel, especially one of the light and swift breed trained for riding or racing

[3] A huge flightless bird related to the emu, with a bare head and neck, a tall horny crest, and one or two colored wattles. It is native mainly to the forests of New Guinea.

Contexts

The goal of this poem’s child narrator is two-fold: to entertain and to teach “a moral lesson that animals have individual sensibilities and merit respect” (Kilcup 302, see full citation below). In the 1920s, American zoos were full of “exotic” species, and “Fauset’s poem both reflects Americans’ interest and questions how they treat nondomestic animals” (Kilcup 302).

Important to note also are the themes of captivity and freedom in this poem. Fauset comments on both the caged animals featured in the poem and the institution of slavery within the context of The Brownies’ Book.

Resources for Further Study
[1] From the Smithsonian Luce Center label: “Henry Ossawa Tanner grew up in a religious home and his family took special pride in the history of the biblical Hamatic races of African origin (Mosby, Dewey F., et al. Henry Ossawa Tanner. Philadelphia Museum of Art, 1991). It is possible that he regarded the lion as a symbol of his African heritage. Tanner learned to draw lions from trips to the zoo in Philadelphia, where he grew up and attended art school. While in Paris in 1891, he sketched them at the Jardin des Plantes and took an animal anatomy course at the natural history museum. Tanner painted Lions in the Desert during one of his visits to the Middle East, which he described as a barren landscape. He did not see actual lions there, but later added them to the painting in his studio.”

Categories
1920s African American Folktale Short Story Wild animals

The Hare and the Elephant

The Hare and the Elephant

By Sir Harry Johnston
Annotations by Abby Army
Hilda Wilkinson. Original illustration from The Brownies’ Book, p. 46.

FOLK TALES

The only thing that is nicer than telling a story is to listen to it. Did you ever stop to think that just as you sit very still in the twilight and listen to Father or Mother telling stories, just so children are listening, all over the world,—in Sweden, in India, in Georgia, and in Uganda? I think you probably know where the first three countries are, but maybe it would be best for me to tell you that Uganda is in beautiful, far-off, mysterious Africa.

Some people are specially fond of telling stories about animals. About twenty-five hundred years ago a poor Greek slave, Aesop, told many and amusing tales about the fox and the wolf and all the rest of them. And you High School boys and girls probably have already read the clever animal stories told by Jean de la Fontaine [1] in the seventeenth century.

Now here is a story about animals which African Fathers and Mothers tell to their little sons and daughters. The story is very old and has come down from father to son for many generations and has probably met with almost no changes. Such a story is called a folk tale. There are many folk tales to be gathered in Africa, and Mr. Monroe N. Work, of Tuskegee, has collected very many of them from various sources. This one, “The Hare and the Elephant,” has been selected by Mr. Work from Sir Harry Johnston’s book called “The Uganda Protectorate.”

Folk tales, folk songs, and folk dances can give us—even better than history sometimes—an idea of primitive people’s beliefs and customs.

The Hare and the Elephant

ONCE upon a time the hare and the elephant went to a dance. The hare stood still and watched the elephant dance. When the dance was over, the hare said,

“Mr. Elephant, I can’t say that I admire your dancing. There seems to be too much of you. Your flesh goes flop, flop, flop. Let me cut off a few slices and you will then, I think, dance as well as I.”

The hare cut off some huge slices and went home. The elephant also went home; but he was in agony. At length he called the buffalo and said,

“Go to the hare and ask him to return my slices.”

The buffalo went to the hare and asked for the slices.

“Were they not eaten on the road?” asked the hare.

“I heard they were,” replied the buffalo.

Then the hare cooked some meat,—it was a slice of the elephant, and gave it to the buffalo. The buffalo found it very tender and asked him where he got it.

Laura Wheeler. Original illustration from The Brownies’ Book, p. 48.

“I got it at a hill not far from here, where I go occasionally to hunt. Come hunting with me today.” So they went to the hill and set up some snares. The hare then said to the buffalo, “You wait here and I will go into the grass. If you hear something come buzzing ‘Zoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo,’ hang down your head.”

The buffalo waited. Presently he heard, “Zoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo—”. He hung down his head. The hare threw a big rock, hit the buffalo’s head and killed him. The hare then skinned him and carried home the meat. When the buffalo did not return, the elephant sent an antelope to ask the hare to return his slices. But the hare disposed of him in the same manner as he had the buffalo and carried home his meat. The elephant sent a succession of messengers for the slices, but none of them returned. At last the elephant called the leopard and said, “Go to the hare and ask him to return my slices.”

The leopard found the hare at home. After they had dined, the hare invited the leopard to go hunting on the hill. When they arrived and had set up their snares, the hare said,

“Now you wait here and I will go into the grass. If you hear something come buzzing, ‘Zoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo’, hang down your head.”

The hare then went into the grass and presently the leopard heard a buzzing, ‘Zoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo’, but instead of hanging down his head, he held it up and a big stone just missed him. Then he hung down his head, fell over and pretended that he was dead. He laughed to himself, 

“Ha! ha! Mr. Hare, so you meant to kill me with that stone. I see now what has happened to the other messengers. The wretch killed them all with his ‘Zoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-o’, Nevermind, Mr. Hare, just wait.”

Laura Wheeler. Original illustration from The Brownies’ Book, p. 47.

The hare came out of the grass and when he saw the leopard lying stretched out, he laughed and jumped and scraped the ground. “There goes another messenger,” he said. “The elephant wants his slices back. Well, let him want them.”

Having said this, the hare hoisted the leopard on his head and walked off with him. The leopard enjoyed riding on the hare’s head. After the hare had carried him a little way, the leopard put forth his paw and gave the hare a deep scratch. He then drew in his paw and lay quite still. The hare at once understood how matters lay and put down the bundle. He did not, however, pretend that he knew, but said,

“Oh, there seems to be a thorn in the bundle.”

He then roped the bundle very firmly, taking care to tie the paws securely. He then placed the bundle on his head and went along to a stretch of forest. Here he placed the leopard in the woods and went off to get his knife.

As soon as the hare had gone, the leopard tore open the bundle and sat up to wait for the hare’s return. “I’ll show him how to hunt and to say, ‘Zoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo, hang down your head’! I’ll show him how to cut slices off my friend, the elephant.” The leopard looked up and saw the hare returning with his knife.

When the hare saw the leopard sitting up, he ran into a hole in the ground.

“Come out,” said the leopard, sniffing vainly at the hole.

“Come in,” said the hare.

The leopard saw that it was useless to try to coax the hare to come out, so he said to a crow that sat on a branch just above the hole, “Mr. Crow, will you watch this hole while I run for some fire to burn out the hare?”

“Yes,” replied the crow, “but don’t be long away, because I will have to go to my nest soon.”

The leopard went for the fire. After a while the hare said,

“I am certain, Mr. Crow, that you are very hungry.”

“Yes, very,” replied the crow.

“Are you fond of ants? If you are, I have a lot of them down here.”

“Throw me up some, please.”

“Come near the hole and I will.”

The crow came near. “Now open your eyes and mouth wide.”

The crow opened his mouth and eyes as wide as he could. Just then the hare flung a lot of dust into them, and while the crow was trying to remove the dust, the hare ran away.

“What shall I do now?” said the crow, as he finished taking the dust out of his eyes. “The leopard will be angry when he finds the hare gone. I am sure to catch it. Ha! Ha! I have it. I will gather some ntengos (poison apples), and put them in the hole. As soon as the leopard applies the fire to the hole. the ntengos will explode and the leopard will think that the hare has burst and died.”

The crow accordingly placed several ntengos in the hole. After some time, the leopard came back with the fire.

Artist Unknown. Four Studies of Leopard Heads. Etching or engraving on paper, c. 1750-1850. Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, New York, N.Y.

“Have you still got him inside?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Has he been saying anything?”

“Not a word.”

“Now then, hare,” said the leopard, “when you hear ‘Zoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo’, hold down your head. Do you hear?” No reply. “You killed all of the elephant’s messengers just as you tried to kill me; but it is all finished now with you. When I say, ‘Zoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-o’, hang down your head. Ha! ha!”

Then the leopard put the fire in the hole. There was a loud explosion. The leopard thought that the hare had burst and died. But instead, the hare was at home making a hearty meal of the last of the elephant’s steaks. None of the other animals ever bothered the hare after that. They remembered what happened to the elephant’s messengers.

Johnston, Harry. “The Hare and the Elephant.” The Brownies’ Book 1, no. 2 (February 1920): 46-48.

[1] Jean de la Fontaine (1621-1695) was a French poet whose fables rank among the highest masterpieces of French literature. You can see some of Fontaine’s fables here.

Contexts

Laura Wheeler (1887-1948) was an American painter and educator who is known for her paintings featuring African American subjects. To supplement her income as a teacher, she took up painting. One year after she died, the Howard University Gallery of Art held an exhibit highlighting her works. See some of Wheeler’s paintings here. Hilda Wilkinson (1894-1981) was an artist and teacher from Washington, D.C. She is known for her paintings and her work as the main illustrator for The Brownies’ Book. You can see some of Wilkinson’s works here. 

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