Part 2

The wonder is that the Great Frog did not meet a princess with gold bracelets on her arms and red flowers in her hair, sooner than he did. However, it is an excellent story.

One of the most clever girls who ever lived was a king’s daughter named Pearl Blossom. She was so clever that every one came to her for advice.

She knew what medicine to give people when they were sick, the kind of herbs and plants which were good to eat, and the crops which would grow best in different kinds of soil.

She could tell when it was going to rain, and when the rain would clear; and she understood what animals said to each other. There was just one thing she did not know, and that was how to get rid of the Flying Lion.

Now the Flying Lion was a very terrible beast. He devoured everything he came across; and had built himself a house, or palace, of the bones of the creatures he had eaten.

Pearl Blossom would have been perfectly happy if it had not been for the Flying Lion, for the very thought of him made her sad.

“He is like a cloud hanging over our village,” she said to her father, one day. “When the women go to the river to wash, or the children go outdoors to play, no one knows how many will come back.”

“It is a terrible thing to think about, of course,” replied her father. “Some one should get rid of him, but a woman cannot do it. Don’t think about the Flying Lion.”

You see, the old King had no great opinion of his daughter’s abilities, and he thought her rather spoiled by the fuss his people made over her. But this was not so. Pearl Blossom was too sensible to be conceited. She was kind and good, and wanted to help others as much as possible.

One morning, Pearl Blossom went into the forest to gather roots, and pretty soon came to a place where a tall woman was sitting at the foot of a cotton-tree.

The woman was fair of face, with hair like red gold, and she wore a long, trailing white garment. “Who are you?” asked Pearl Blossom. “I never saw you before.”

“You haven’t seen me before, although I have always been here,” the woman replied. “I whispered in your ear all you know about the things in the forest. How did you think you learned so much about animals and plants?”

“Why, I just thought about them as I sat under the trees,” said Pearl Blossom, after a little pause.

“It was I who taught you,” said the woman. “My name is Gulu, and I live inside the cotton-tree. Would you like to see my home?”

“Indeed I would,” said Pearl Blossom.

So Gulu led her through the door into the tree, and there was the loveliest little house she had ever seen. The carpet was green moss, the walls were covered with beautiful flowers, and it was lighted by fire-flies and glow-worms.

Pearl Blossom was delighted with what she saw, and said so. Then she and Gulu sat down and began to talk. “We are old friends; for although you have never seen me, I have told you nearly all my secrets. Is there anything else you want to know?”

“I want to know how to get rid of the Flying Lion,” replied Pearl Blossom. “Can you tell me how to do it?”

Gulu was silent for quite a little while. Then at length she said: “It will be rather difficult; yes, the most difficult thing you could have asked me. But if you will stay with me for three months, it can be done.”

“Why must I stay three whole months?” asked Pearl Blossom.

“Because, in the first place it will take you a month to weave an invisible robe for yourself; and unless you have one, you can’t meddle with the Flying Lion.”

“I suppose if he should see me, that would be the end of it.”

“Indeed it would, and of you, too,” said Gulu. “Then after the robe is made, you will have to learn the language of the crows and the frogs. That will take two months, because they are more difficult to understand than the rest of the animals.”

“But I must go home first and tell my parents where I am.”

“Indeed you must not,” replied Gulu. “No one must know where you are, or the Flying Lion will hear of it and know what you are doing.”

“I must get rid of the Flying Lion,” said Pearl Blossom; “so it will be best for me to stay.”

But the King and Queen were distracted with grief when night came and the Princess had not come back from the forest, so they sent the bushmen in every direction in search of her. They sought for many days, but could not find her, and every one thought the Flying Lion had eaten her.

All this time Pearl Blossom sat in the cotton-tree house weaving herself a robe which would make her invisible wherever she went. And when it was finished she learned the language of the crows and the frogs.

Then, when the three months were at an end, Gulu told her she would better go and listen to the crows in the forest and find out what to do about the Flying Lion.

So Pearl Blossom put on her invisible robe and crept up close to the crows to hear what they had to say.

“I don’t know just what it is,” said one of them, “but there is some secret about his wings. The white crows know it, but they dare not tell.”

“He leaves two white crows to guard the bones every day when he goes hunting,” said a young crow. “There are piles and piles of them, and he won’t have one of them broken. I have seen them,” he added proudly.

“What is all this about bones?” asked a very old crow. He could not fly as far as the younger ones, and was inclined not to pay much attention to their wonderful tales.

“Why, the bones of the creatures the Flying Lion has eaten,” replied the young crow. “He has built a house with them over there where the sun goes down,” nodding towards the west. “I know it, for I have seen it,” he added, puffing out his breast with a great deal of importance.

“I must see that house myself,” thought Pearl Blossom; “and I must hear what the white crows say to each other. Perhaps they will let out the secret.”

So Pearl Blossom went away through the forest, and walked for a long time before she reached the house where the white crows were.

The way through the forest was very difficult, too. Sometimes the bush-rope caught her feet and threw her down; sometimes she had to creep over great fallen trees; and again she had to creep under bushes.

It was very fortunate that she could talk to the animals, for the bush-crows and the monkeys and the snails showed her the way, and were all very kind to her.

It took some time for them to get used to her way of appearing and disappearing, and of course, it puzzled them, for she had to slip off her invisible robe while she spoke to them.

“Human beings are queer creatures at the best of times,” said the snake to the monkey. “Being a Princess makes her a little queerer, I suppose.”

The white crows were flying round and round the Flying Lion’s house when Pearl Blossom got there. The house was very large, all built of bones, and there was a pile of bones in front of it three times as high as the Princess. After a while the white crows settled on a tree near her, and began to talk.

“I wish I knew one thing,” said the first one. “Why doesn’t he want any of the bones broken? Can you tell me that?”

“The only person who knows is the Great Frog,” answered the other.

Pearl Blossom was disappointed. “They don’t know the secret after all,” she said to herself.

“What Great Frog?” asked one of the crows. “Do you mean the Great Frog who lives in the pond behind the house?”

The other crow nodded his head.

“But he won’t tell it until he is asked by a Princess with gold bracelets on her arm and red flowers in her hair. I have heard that ever since I was born.”

The moment Pearl Blossom heard this, she hurried away to the pond behind the house, for she had gold bracelets on her arm and red flowers in her hair.

The Great Frog was sunning himself on the bank when the Princess came up. He was green in color, with a white chest, and he was three feet high and one foot broad.

Pearl Blossom, who never knew what it was to be afraid, slipped off her invisible robe and went up to him.

“Well,” he said when he learned what Pearl Blossom wanted, “if the Flying Lion is doing as much damage as that, it is time to stop him.”

“But can you do it?” asked Pearl Blossom anxiously.

“Anyone can do it who knows the secret of the bones,” replied the Great Frog. “If the bones are broken, he won’t be able to fly any more.”

“Then will you go and break them?” asked the Princess.

“Nothing would give me more pleasure,” replied the frog politely, and off he went by leaps and bounds to the Flying Lion’s house, and pulled it down and broke all the bones in pieces.

Then he called out to the white crows: “Tell your master, if he wants me, to come to the pond and look for me!”

Pretty soon the lion came crashing through the bushes in a great rage.

“I can’t fly!” he cried out. “What have you done that I can’t fly?” he asked the white crows.

“We haven’t done anything,” they replied. “The Great Frog has been here and broken the bones. He says if you want him you may go to the pond.”

Then the lion stopped roaring and crept softly towards the water to catch the frog, who was sitting on the bank. But the Great Frog slipped into the water just as he was within a yard of him, and dived to the other side and sat there.

Then the lion crept round to the other side, but again the frog was too quick for him, and he could not catch him. He tried time and time again to catch him, but at last had to give it up and go away.

Since then lions have never had any wings, but are obliged to walk on their feet like other animals.

As for Pearl Blossom, the Great Frog had fallen so much in love with her that he wanted to marry her. She thanked him, but now that the lion had lost his wings she must go back to her father and mother.

And how delighted her parents were to see her; and when the people of the village heard that the Flying Lion would trouble them no more, there was great feasting and rejoicing in every house.

FAIRY TALES FROM AFRICA

KING MUNGO

Probably the mischief making propensities of the Jackal have never been better set forth than in this relation of certain happenings in the realm of King Mungo.

A wise old baboon was King Mungo—not quite so wise, perhaps, as he imagined, which is often the case with many of us; but quite sensible enough to be a good ruler over his part of the forest.

He could swing himself from one branch to another, by his long arms, nearly as quickly as lightning, and could run so fast and far that no one could catch him.

At this time, King Mungo walked on two legs, and he was respected for this more than anything else. But you will soon see that this is the sad story of how he, and all the baboons after him, lost the power of walking erect, and had to go on all fours, like the rest of the animals.

Of all King Mungo’s subjects, the largest was an elephant, and the smallest one an ant. Besides these, his kingdom contained a dog, a cat, a mouse, a pool of water, a stick, and a fire lit among the brambles.

Of course, you have seen water put out fire, with a great fizz and splutter; but the strange thing about King Mungo’s fire was that however much water was thrown on the fire, the fire burned all the better for it. King Mungo said, “That’s because they are friends.”

And so it went on. The cat would never bite the mouse; and the cat and the dog played nicely together. The stick went quietly about its business without beating the dog; and the ant never even dreamed of giving the elephant a nip.

They all lived in peace and harmony together until one day a wretched little tailor, named Klit, came to the King to complain of the holes some one had made in his cloth.

You know how often it is, just when we are enjoying ourselves most, somebody comes and interferes, and spoils things. It was just like that in King Mungo’s kingdom. They were all as happy as they could be, when Klit, the tailor, brought the King a piece of cloth with six holes in it.

“I must have satisfaction, Your Majesty,” he said. “I thought the mouse had done this, but she blames the cat, and the cat says she saw my cloth in the dog’s mouth.

“But the dog says it was the stick; the stick declares it was the fire; and the fire says the water did it. The water denies it, and says the elephant tore the cloth; and the elephant lays the blame on the ant.”

King Mungo put on his most judicial air. “Well” he said.

“As long as they are all quarreling about it,” continued the tailor, “I suggest, Your Majesty, that you bring them together and try them, so that we may find out the truth.”

“Dear me! Quarreling? Why, such a thing has never happened before. Pray take a seat; I will talk it over with my Prime Minister, and see what can be done. Quarreling! Well!”

So Klit sat down cross-legged on the grass, and pulled out his thimble and thread.

“Here, here! Don’t darn the holes. What are you thinking about? If you darn them, they’ll say there never were any,” said the wise baboon.

“Whatever you do, don’t consult your Prime Minister,” retorted the tailor. “He is sure to give you some foolish advice.”

Now King Mungo was very much annoyed at this. He had great faith in the jackal, who was his Prime Minister; and besides, like other royal personages, he did not like to be addressed in a rude and familiar manner.

However, what the tailor said was true. The jackal was a mischievous fellow, and people who took his advice were generally sorry for it afterwards.

But King Mungo told his Prime Minister what had happened, and they consulted together for a long time. Then the King nodded his head, and the jackal went off to assemble his subjects.

So they all appeared before the King. There was the little brown mouse, the cat, the black curly dog, the stick, and next to the stick the fire was burning, and at the other side of the fire was the pool of water. Beyond the water stood the elephant, and next to him, on the top of a blade of grass, was a tiny black ant.

Then King Mungo began. “Klit,” he said, “hold up your cloth.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” and the tailor held up the cloth, and there were six round holes in it.

“Now tell me which of you has done this,” commanded the King.

“The mouse!” cried Klit.

“The cat!” squeaked the mouse.

“The dog!” said the cat.

“The stick!” growled the dog.

“The fire!” shouted the stick.

“The water!” hissed the fire.

“The elephant!” roared the water.

“The ant!” trumpeted the elephant.

“Your Majesty,” said the jackal, “you see, none of them will confess.”

“Silence!” commanded the King. “The best thing will be for them to punish each other. Klit, you accuse the mouse?”

“I do, Your Majesty,” answered the tailor.

“Then, cat, bite the mouse!”

And the cat bit the mouse as hard as she could.

“Where are you, mouse? Do you accuse the cat?”

“I certainly do,” squeaked the mouse.

“Here, dog, bite the cat!”

The dog growled and buried his teeth in the cat’s fur.

“Now, cat, you accuse the dog?”

“Your Majesty, I accuse the dog.”

“Stick, beat the dog!”

“It was the fire that did it,” said the stick in a sulky tone.

“Then, fire, burn the stick!

“Water, put out the fire!

“Elephant, drink the water!

“Ant, bite the elephant!” commanded the King.

“Just think of it!” cried the jackal, capering about with delight. “There will be no peace in this kingdom for many a long day.”

Now you see what a mischievous rascal the jackal was, for it turned out just as he wanted it to. From that time to this, the cat has always bitten the mouse; the dog the cat, and the ant the elephant; while fire has burned wood, and water quenched fire.

“Thanks to your advice, I have made a nice mess of it,” said the King to his Prime Minister.

But that was not the worst of it. As a punishment for his foolishness, King Mungo lost the power of walking on two legs, and had to go on all fours like the rest of the animals.

He lost his name of Mungo, too; and since then he and all of his race have been called just baboons.

FAIRY TALES FROM AFRICA

UNCLE LION

Providing the circumstance from which the phrase “Taking the Lion’s Share” has been derived. Inferentially all other accounts are inaccurate.

Always when the lion went out hunting he took Kanja, the jackal, with him, for Kanja was a much better hunter than he.

But whenever the jackal had killed the game, he would say, “That is mine, Uncle Lion!” Then the lion would look at him with such an angry glare that Kanja would contradict himself at once, and say, “No, it is yours, of course!” Then Uncle Lion would eat it up, and Kanja would go hungry.

“You see, I only take the lion’s share,” Uncle Lion would explain.

“Yes, I have noticed it,” replied the jackal.

“What is your idea of the lion’s share?” asked the lion, with one eye on Kanja.

“Everything, Uncle Lion,” answered poor Kanja.

“Very well. You shall hunt with me again to-morrow,” said the lion approvingly.

When the next day came, however, Kanja avoided Uncle Lion, and went off to hunt on his own account.

After a while he met a friend of his, the leopard, flying across the plains as though a dozen hunters were after him.

“What seems to be the matter?” asked the jackal.

“I am really in a hurry,” replied the leopard. “Don’t stop me. There is a terrible beast looking out of the door of a hut, a little way back! It has great horns and is four times as big as you. I must be going.”

“But wait a minute!” said the jackal, and caught hold of the leopard, and insisted on hearing more about the creature which had frightened him.

In a minute he began to laugh. “Why, it is only a ram!” he cried. “He can’t do you any harm. We will go and catch him for dinner. I am almost starved.”

Kanja found it rather hard work to persuade him, but at last, when the leopard heard how badly the lion had treated his friend the day before, he agreed to go with him.

“But you must tie me to you,” said the leopard, with his teeth chattering. “I shall be sure to run when I see him.”

So Kanja fastened a leather thong around both their bodies, and dragged him along at a great rate. “Don’t let Uncle Lion catch us,” he whispered, looking from side to side. “If he took the lion’s share this time, I should die of hunger.”

When the ram saw them coming, he was more frightened than the leopard had been, so he ran back to the hut and told his wife.

“I don’t know what we are going to do,” he cried. “Kanja and his friend the leopard are coming to devour us!”

“Oh, that’s nonsense!” answered his wife. “Here take the child and go out to meet them.” Then she gave him their little kid, and told him to pinch it and make it cry.

“But I don’t understand,” said her husband, who was really very stupid.

“Do just as I tell you,” said his wife. “You must shout in a terrible tone, ‘Just in time! Just in time! My child is crying for food!’ Then you’ll see what will happen!”

When the leopard saw the ram, with his terrible horns coming towards them, he would have run away there and then if the jackal had not pulled him forward. Just then the ram gave his child a pinch, and the little kid began to cry.

“I am glad to see you, Kanja,” he cried. “You have brought the leopard just in time. My child is crying for food.”

“This is no place for me!” cried the leopard. “Let us be off.” And so they both tugged at the leather thong, Kanja determined to go on, and the leopard to go back.

But the leopard was much the stronger, and in a minute or two he was dragging the jackal along at a terrible pace. They rushed on and on, until they were out of sight of the ram, and then Kanja fell down exhausted. He was too faint with hunger to go any farther, but the leopard, who could not get over his fright, unfastened the thong and went on.

After a while, a wagon loaded with fish came past, and as it was going very slowly, the jackal tried to jump into it from behind.

“Even fish is better than nothing,” he said to himself, but he was too weak to manage it, and the wagon passed along.

But there was another following it at a little distance, and this time Kanja stretched himself in front of it as though he were dead.

“What is this?” said the driver, when he saw the jackal stretched out in the road. “His skin will make a nice cloak for my daughter.”

So the driver picked him up and threw him into the wagon, which was exactly what Kanja wanted. He had no idea of being made into a cloak for the driver’s daughter, but he did wish to be near the fish.

When Kanja had satisfied his hunger, he began to throw the fish out into the road, one by one. The daylight failed and the moon rose, but he was still busy with this, until the fishes lay like a silver streak as far along the track as he could see.

At last he jumped out of the wagon. “Four hundred!” he cried. “One for every day in the year, and thirty-five over. Now I must carry them to a place where Uncle Lion won’t find them.”

But while he was collecting them, a hyena came up and ate as many as she wanted without asking his permission.

“Here, you! Leave my fish alone!” cried Kanja angrily.