selected and edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 1998-2002
folktales of Aarne-Thompson type 91
selected and edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 1998-2002
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life at the foot of the Himalayas as a monkey. He grew strong and sturdy, big of frame, well to do, and lived by a curve of the river Ganges in a forest haunt. Now at that time there was a crocodile dwelling in the Ganges. The crocodile's mate saw the great frame of the monkey, and she conceived a longing to eat his heart. So she said to her lord, "Sir, I desire to eat the heart of that great king of the monkeys!"
"Good wife," said the crocodile, "I live in the water and he lives on dry land. How can we catch him?"
"By hook or by crook," she replied, "he must be caught. If I don't get him, I shall die."
"All right," answered the crocodile, consoling her, "don't trouble yourself. I have a plan. I will give you his heart to eat."
So when the Bodhisatta was sitting on the bank of the Ganges, after taking a drink of water, the crocodile drew near, and said, "Sir Monkey, why do you live on bad fruits in this old familiar place? On the other side of the Ganges there is no end to the mango trees, and labuja trees, with fruit sweet as honey! Is it not better to cross over and have all kinds of wild fruit to eat?"
"Lord Crocodile," the monkey answered. "The Ganges is deep and wide. How shall I get across?"
"If you want to go, I will let you sit upon my back, and carry you over."
The monkey trusted him, and agreed. "Come here, then," said the crocodile. "Up on my back with you!" and up the monkey climbed. But when the crocodile had swum a little way, he plunged the monkey under the water.
"Good friend, you are letting me sink!" cried the monkey. "What is that for?"
The crocodile said, "You think I am carrying you out of pure good nature? Not a bit of it! My wife has a longing for your heart, and I want to give it to her to eat.!"
"Friend," said the monkey, "it is nice of you to tell me. Why, if our heart were inside us, when we go jumping among the tree tops it would be all knocked to pieces!"
"Well, where do you keep it?" asked the crocodile.
The Bodhisatta pointed out a fig tree, with clusters of ripe fruit, standing not far off. "See," said he, "there are our hearts hanging on yonder fig tree."
"If you will show me your heart," said the crocodile, "then I won't kill you."
"Take me to the tree, then, and I will point it out to you."
The crocodile brought him to the place. The monkey leapt off his back, and, climbing up the fig tree, sat upon it. "Oh silly crocodile!" said he. "You thought that there were creatures that kept their hearts in a treetop! You are a fool, and I have outwitted you! You may keep your fruit to yourself. Your body is great, but you have no sense."
And then to explain this idea he uttered the following stanzas:
Rose-apple, jack-fruit, mangoes, too, across the water there I see;
Enough of them, I want them not; my fig is good enough for me!
Great is your body, verily, but how much smaller is your wit!
Now go your ways, Sir Crocodile, for I have had the best of it.
The crocodile, feeling as sad and miserable as if he had lost a thousand pieces of money, went back sorrowing to the place where he lived.
The part of the great Buddha legend referring to the dragon is as follows:
In years gone by, a dragon living in the great sea saw that his wife's health was not good. He, seeing her color fade away, said, "My dear, what shall I get you to eat?"
Mrs. Dragon was silent.
"Just tell me and I will get it," pleaded the affectionate husband.
"You cannot do it; why trouble?" quoth she.
"Trust me, and you shall have your heart's desire," said the dragon.
"Well," I want a monkey's heart to eat."
"Why, Mrs. Dragon, the monkeys live in the mountain forests! How can I get one of their hearts?"
"Well, I am going to die; I know I am."
Forthwith the dragon went on shore, and, spying a monkey on the top of a tree, said, "Hail, shining one, are you not afraid you will fall?"
"No, I have no such fear."
"Why eat of one tree? Cross the sea and you will find forests of fruit and flowers."
"How can I cross?"
"Get on my back."
The dragon with his tiny load went seaward, and then suddenly dived down.
"Where are you going?" said the monkey, with the salt water in his eyes and mouth.
"Oh! my dear sir! my wife is very sad and ill, and has taken a fancy to your heart."
"What shall I do?" thought the monkey. He then spoke, "Illustrious friend, why did not you tell me? I left my heart on the top of the tree; take me back, and I will get it for Mrs. Dragon."
The dragon returned to the shore. As the monkey was tardy in coming down from the tree, the dragon said, "Hurry up, little friend, I am waiting."
Then the monkey thought within himself, "What a fool this dragon is!"
Then Buddha said to his followers, "At this time I was the monkey."
On one occasion the queen of fishes was a little indiscreet and while snapping greedily at a worm got a hook through her nose. She succeeded in breaking the line and escaped having her royal bones picked by some hungry mortal, but she was still in a great dilemma, for she could in no way remove the cruel hook.
Her finny majesty grew very ill. All the officials in her kingdom were summoned and met in solemn council. From the turtle to the whale each one wore an anxious expression and did his best at thinking. At last the turtle was asked for his opinion, and announced his firm belief that a poultice made from the fresh liver of a rabbit would remove the disorder of their sovereign at once. He was listened to attentively, but his plan was conceded to be impractical, since they had no fresh rabbit livers or any means of obtaining them.
Then the turtle again came to the rescue and said that he had a passing acquaintance with the rabbit, whom he had occasionally seen when walking along the beach, and that he would endeavor to bring him to the palace, if the doctors would then take charge of the work, for the sight of blood disagreed with him, and he would ask to absent himself from the further conduct of the case.
He was royally thanked for his offer and departed in haste, realizing full well that his career was made in case he succeeded, while he would be very much unmade if he failed.
It was a very hot day as the fat turtle dragged himself up the hillside, where he fortunately espied the rabbit. The latter, having jumped away a short distance, cocked his ears and looked over his back to see who was approaching.
Perceiving the turtle, he went over and accosted him with, "What are you doing up here, sir?"
"I simply came up for a view. I have always heard that the view over the water from your hills was excellent, but I can't say it pays one for the trouble of coming up," and the turtle wiped off his long neck and stretched himself out to cool off in the air.
"You are not high enough. Just come with me if you want to see a view," and the rabbit straightened up as if to start.
"No, indeed! I have had enough for once. I prefer the water. Why, you should see the magnificent sights down there. There are beautiful green forests of waving trees, mountains of cool stones, valleys and caves, great open plains made beautiful by companies of brightly robed fishes, royal processions from our palaces, and, best of all, the water bears you up, and you go everywhere without exertion. No, let me return. You have nothing on this dry, hot earth worth seeing."
The turtle turned to go, but the rabbit musingly followed.
At length he said, "Don't you have any difficulty in the water?" Doesn't it get into your eyes and mouth?" for he really longed in his heart to see the strange sights.
"Oh, no! It bothers us no more than air, after we are once accustomed to it," said the turtle.
"I should very much like to see the place," said the rabbit, rather to himself. "But it is no use. I couldn't live in the water like a fish."
"Why, certainly not," and the turtle concealed his excitement under an air of indifference. "You couldn't get along by yourself, but if you really wish to see something that will surprise you, you may get on my back, give me your forepaws, and I will take you down all right."
After some further assurance the rabbit accepted the apparently generous offer, and on arriving at the beach, he allowed himself to be firmly fixed on the turtle's back, and down they went into the water, to the great discomfort of the rabbit, who, however, eventually became so accustomed to the water that he did not much mind it.
He was charmed and bewildered by the magnificence of everything he saw, and especially by the gorgeous palace, through which he was escorted by attendant fishes to the sick chamber of the queen, where he found a great council of learned doctors who welcomed him very warmly.
While sitting in an elegant chair and gazing about the surrounding magnificence he chanced to hear their discussion concerning the best way of securing his liver before he should die. He was filled with horror, and questioning an attendant, the whole plot was explained to him. The poor fellow scratched his head and wondered if he would ever get out of this place alive.
At last a happy thought struck him. He explained to them that the liver was the thing optionally put in and taken out of the abdomen, like eye glasses were put on and removed at will, and that it was available, though expensive, at market. Fearing that the water would wet his precious liver, he had taken it out of his belly and placed it on a rock before getting upon the turtle's back.
He further expressed himself as most willing to let them have his liver, with which to cure her majesty's disorder, and assured them that he believed one liver would answer the purpose. He gave them to understand that he felt highly honored in being allowed to assist in so important a work, and declared that if they would give the necessary order he would hasten on the turtle's back to the spot where he had left his liver and return speedily with it.
Marveling much at the rabbit's courtesy, the fishes slunk away into the corners for very shame at their own rude conduct in forcibly kidnapping him, when a simple request would have accomplished their purpose. The turtle was rather roughly commended to carry the guest to the place designated, which he did.
Once released by the turtle to get his liver on the rock, the rabbit shook the water from his coat, and winking at his clumsy betrayer, told him to find it himself, that he had only one liver, and that he intended to keep it. With that he raced away up the mountainside, and has ever after been careful to give the turtle a wide berth.
Monkey was upset. No food could be found anymore in the forest of the little island of Buyayaw. He was very hungry indeed. Of course, he could go to the mainland, where there was plenty of food, but that was exactly the problem. How could he cross the channel of water, infested with the voracious crocodiles?
"Well, let's find out from the water," Monkey said. "You, water, if it will be dangerous for me to cross, you should become cold."
He dipped with his hand into the water, and cold it was indeed! But to die from hunger wasn't a pleasure either, so he would try to cross the channel, whatever the outcome!
So Monkey started out. In the middle of the channel, Crocodile was waiting for him!
"What do you want of me, Crocodile?" Monkey asked.
"Well," Crocodile said, "I'll just have your liver. That's what I like best."
"My liver! exclaimed Monkey. "That's just too bad. I left it on the shore because if I took it along, I would surely be drowned. But as a good friend, I am willing to get it for you. Maybe you could give me a ride on your back?"
And then they went to the shore. With a great leap Monkey jumped onto solid land and turned around at a safe distance.
"You stupid Crocodile," he shouted, "did you ever hear about a man who left his liver behind!"
And after that he disappeared into the forest, leaving an angry crocodile behind.
But Crocodile planned to take revenge, and one day he hid himself in the house of Monkey, while Monkey was out. But Monkey was suspicious, and wanted to make sure as to whether or not Crocodile was inside the house.
"If somebody is in the house, let him keep silent," Monkey shouted, "but if nobody is inside, he should give a yell."
And sure enough, Crocodile gave a terrific yell!
Said Monkey, "You stupid Crocodile, have you ever heard a house yell, when nobody was inside!"
But Crocodile didn't give up. One day later on he had been wallowing in the mud and had an awful stench. Flies were settling on his body as if he had already died. While this was happening Monkey came up, so Crocodile acted as if he was a real cadaver.
Monkey came nearer. Crocodile looked dead, all right, but one couldn't be sure. "You, cadaver, if you are alive, don't make a sound. But if you are really dead, let me hear it."
And Crocodile gave a thundering roar!
"You stupid Crocodile," Monkey laughed from a safe distance. "Ever heard about the dead crocodile that roars?"
Because of his cleverness, Monkey could always escape the tricks of Crocodile.
Children must often have wondered why jellyfishes have no shells, like so many of the creatures that are washed up every day on the beach. In old times this was not so; the jellyfish had as hard a shell as any of them, but he lost it through his own fault, as may be seen in this story.
The sea-queen Otohime grew suddenly very ill. The swiftest messengers were sent hurrying to fetch the best doctors from every country under the sea, but it was all of no use; the queen grew rapidly worse instead of better. Everyone had almost given up hope, when one day a doctor arrived who was cleverer than the rest, and said that the only thing that would cure her was the liver of an ape.
Now apes do not dwell under the sea, so a council of the wisest heads in the nation was called to consider the question how a liver could be obtained. At length it was decided that the turtle, whose prudence was well known, should swim to land and contrive to catch a living ape and bring him safely to the ocean kingdom.
It was easy enough for the council to entrust this mission to the turtle, but not at all so easy for him to fulfil it. However, he swam to a part of the coast that was covered with tall trees, where he thought the apes were likely to be; for he was old, and had seen many things. It was some time before he caught sight of any monkeys, and he often grew tired with watching for them, so that one hot day he fell fast asleep, in spite of all his efforts to keep awake.
By and by some apes, who had been peeping at him from the tops of the trees, where they had been carefully hidden from the turtle's eyes, stole noiselessly down, and stood round staring at him, for they had never seen a turtle before, and did not know what to make of it. At last one young monkey, bolder than the rest, stooped down and stroked the shining shell that the strange new creature wore on its back. The movement, gentle though it was, woke the turtle. With one sweep he seized the monkey's hand in his mouth, and held it tight, in spite of every effort to pull it away. The other apes, seeing that the turtle was not to be trifled with, ran off, leaving their young brother to his fate.
Then the turtle said to the monkey, "If you will be quiet, and do what I tell you, I won't hurt you. But you must get on my back and come with me."
The monkey, seeing there was no help for it, did as he was bid; indeed he could not have resisted, as his hand was still in the turtle's mouth.
Delighted at having secured his prize, the turtle hastened back to the shore and plunged quickly into the water. He swam faster than he had ever done before, and soon reached the royal palace. Shouts of joy broke forth from the attendants when he was seen approaching, and some of them ran to tell the queen that the monkey was there, and that before long she would be as well as ever she was. In fact, so great was their relief that they gave the monkey such a kind welcome, and were so anxious to make him happy and comfortable, that he soon forgot all the fears that had beset him as to his fate, and was generally quite at his ease, though every now and then a fit of homesickness would come over him, and he would hide himself in some dark corner till it had passed away.
It was during one of these attacks of sadness that a jellyfish happened to swim by. At that time jellyfishes had shells. At the sight of the gay and lively monkey crouching under a tall rock, with his eyes closed and his head bent, the jellyfish was filled with pity, and stopped, saying, "Ah, poor fellow, no wonder you weep; a few days more, and they will come and kill you and give your liver to the queen to eat."
The monkey shrank back horrified at these words and asked the jellyfish what crime he had committed that deserved death.
"Oh, none at all," replied the jellyfish, "but your liver is the only thing that will cure our queen, and how can we get at it without killing you? You had better submit to your fate, and make no noise about it, for though I pity you from my heart there is no way of helping you." Then he went away, leaving the ape cold with horror.
At first he felt as if his liver was already being taken from his body, but soon he began to wonder if there was no means of escaping this terrible death, and at length he invented a plan which he thought would do. For a few days he pretended to be gay and happy as before, but when the sun went in, and rain fell in torrents, he wept and howled from dawn to dark, till the turtle, who was his head keeper, heard him, and came to see what was the matter. Then the monkey told him that before he left home he had hung his liver out on a bush to dry, and if it was always going to rain like this it would become quite useless. And the rogue made such a fuss and moaning that he would have melted a heart of stone, and nothing would content him but that somebody should carry him back to land and let him fetch his liver again.
The queen's councilors were not the wisest of people, and they decided between them that the turtle should take the monkey back to his native land and allow him to get his liver off the bush, but desired the turtle not to lose sight of his charge for a single moment. The monkey knew this, but trusted to his power of beguiling the turtle when the time came, and mounted on his back with feelings of joy, which he was, however, careful to conceal.
They set out, and in a few hours were wandering about the forest where the ape had first been caught, and when the monkey saw his family peering out from the tree tops, he swung himself up by the nearest branch, just managing to save his hind leg from being seized by the turtle. He told them all the dreadful things that had happened to him, and gave a war cry which brought the rest of the tribe from the neighboring hills. At a word from him they rushed in a body to the unfortunate turtle, threw him on his back, and tore off the shield that covered his body. Then with mocking words they hunted him to the shore, and into the sea, which he was only too thankful to reach alive.
Faint and exhausted he entered the queen's palace, for the cold of the water struck upon his naked body, and made him feel ill and miserable. But wretched though he was, he had to appear before the queen's advisers and tell them all that had befallen him, and how he had suffered the monkey to escape. But, as sometimes happens, the turtle was allowed to go scot-free, and had his shell given back to him, and all the punishment fell on the poor jellyfish, who was condemned by the queen to go shieldless for ever after.
A long time ago a little town made up of a collection of low huts stood in a tiny green valley at the foot of a cliff. Of course the people had taken great care to build their houses out of reach of the highest tide which might be driven on shore by a west wind, but on the very edge of the town there had sprung up a tree so large that half its boughs hung over the huts and the other half over the deep sea right under the cliff, where sharks loved to come and splash in the clear water.
The branches of the tree itself were laden with fruit, and every day at sunrise a big gray monkey might have been seen sitting in the topmost branches having his breakfast, and chattering to himself with delight.
After he had eaten all the fruit on the town side of the tree the monkey swung himself along the branches to the part which hung over the water. While he was looking out for a nice shady place where he might perch comfortably, he noticed a shark watching him from below with greedy eyes.
"Can I do anything for you, my friend?" asked the monkey politely.
"Oh! if you only would throw me down some of those delicious things, I should be so grateful," answered the shark. "After you have lived on fish for fifty years you begin to feel you would like a change. And I am so very, very tired of the taste of salt."
"Well, I don't like salt myself," said the monkey, "so if you will open your mouth I will throw this beautiful juicy kuyu into it," and, as he spoke, he pulled one off the branch just over his head. But it was not so easy to hit the shark's mouth as he supposed, even when the creature had turned on his back, and the first kuyu only struck one of his teeth and rolled into the water. However, the second time the monkey had better luck, and the fruit fell right in.
"Ah, how good!" cried the shark. "Send me another, please," and the monkey grew tired of picking the kuyu long before the shark was tired of eating them.
"It is getting late, and I must be going home to my children," he said, at length, "but if you are here at the same time tomorrow I will give you another treat."
"Thank you, thank you," said the shark, showing all his great ugly teeth as he grinned with delight. "You can't guess how happy you have made me," and he swam away into the shadow, hoping to sleep away the time till the monkey came again.
For weeks the monkey and the shark breakfasted together, and it was a wonder that the tree had any fruit left for them. They became fast friends, and told each other about their homes and their children, and how to teach them all they ought to know.
By and by the monkey became rather discontented with his green house in a grove of palms beyond the town, and longed to see the strange things under the sea which he had heard of from the shark. The shark perceived this very clearly, and described greater marvels. And the monkey, as he listened, grew more and more gloomy.
Matters were in this state when one day the shark said, "I really hardly know how to thank you for your kindness to me during these weeks. Here I have nothing of my own to offer you, but if you would only consent to come home with me, how gladly would I give you anything that might happen to take your fancy."
"I should like nothing better," cried the monkey, his teeth chattering, as they always did when he was pleased. "But how could I get there? Not by water, Ugh! It makes me ill to think of it!"
"Oh! don't let that trouble you," replied the shark. "You have only to sit on my back and I will undertake that not a drop of water shall touch you."
So it was arranged, and directly after breakfast next morning the shark swam close up under the tree, and the monkey dropped neatly on his back, without even a splash. After a few minutes -- for at first he felt a little frightened at his strange position -- the monkey began to enjoy himself vastly, and asked the shark a thousand questions about the fish and the seaweeds and the oddly shaped things that floated past them, and as the shark always gave him some sort of answer, the monkey never guessed that many of the objects they saw were as new to his guide as to himself.
The sun had risen and set six times when the shark suddenly said, "My friend, we have now performed half our journey, and it is time that I should tell you something."
"What is it?" asked the monkey. "Nothing unpleasant, I hope, for you sound rather grave."
"Oh, no! Nothing at all. It is only that shortly before we left I heard that the sultan of my country is very ill, and that the only thing to cure him is a monkey's heart."
"Poor man, I am very sorry for him," replied the monkey; "but you were unwise not to tell me till we had started."
"What do you mean?" asked the shark. But the monkey, who now understood the whole plot, did not answer at once, for he was considering what he should say.
"Why are you so silent?" inquired the shark again.
"I was thinking what a pity it was you did not tell me while I was still on land, and then I would have brought my heart with me."
"Your heart! Why isn't your heart here?" said the shark, with a puzzled expression.
"Oh, no! Of course not. Is it possible you don't know that when we leave home we always hang up our hearts on trees, to prevent their being troublesome? However, perhaps you won't believe that, and will just think I have invented it because I am afraid, so let us go on to your country as fast as we can, and when we arrive you can look for my heart, and if you find it you can kill me."
The monkey spoke in such a calm indifferent way that the shark was quite deceived, and began to wish he had not been in such a hurry.
"But there is no use going on if your heart is not with you," he said at last. "We had better turn back to the town, and then you can fetch it."
Of course, this was just what the monkey wanted, but he was careful not to seem too pleased.
"Well, I don't know," he remarked carelessly. "It is such a long way; but you may be right."
"I am sure I am," answered the shark, "and I will swim as quickly as I can," and so he did, and in three days they caught sight of the kuyu tree hanging over the water.
With a sigh of relief the monkey caught hold of the nearest branch and swung himself up.
"Wait for me here," he called out to the shark. "I am so hungry I must have a little breakfast, and then I will go and look for my heart," and he went further and further into the branches so that the shark could not see him. Then he curled himself up and went to sleep.
"Are you there?" cried the shark, who was soon tired of swimming about under the cliff, and was in haste to be gone.
The monkey awoke with a start, but did not answer.
"Are you there?" called the shark again, louder than before, and in a very cross voice.
"Oh, yes. I am here," replied the monkey; "but I wish you had not wakened me up. I was having such a nice nap."
"Have you got it?" asked the shark. "It is time we were going."
"Going where?" inquired the monkey.
"Why, to my country, of course, with your heart. You can't have forgotten!"
"My dear friend," answered the monkey, with a chuckle, "I think you must be going a little mad. Do you take me for a washerman's donkey?"
"Don't talk nonsense," exclaimed the shark, who did not like being laughed at. "What do you mean about a washerman's donkey? And I wish you would be quick, or we may be too late to save the sultan."
"Did you really never hear of the washerman's donkey?" asked the monkey, who was enjoying himself immensely. "Why, he is the beast who has no heart. And as I am not feeling very well, and am afraid to start while the sun is so high lest I should get a sunstroke, if you like, I will come a little nearer and tell you his story."
"Very well," said the shark sulkily, "if you won't come, I suppose I may as well listen to that as do nothing."
So the monkey began.
A washerman once lived in the great forest on the other side of the town, and he had a donkey to keep him company and to carry him wherever he wanted to go. For a time they got on very well, but by and by the donkey grew lazy and ungrateful for her master's kindness, and ran away several miles into the heart of the forest, where she did nothing but eat and eat and eat, till she grew so fat she could hardly move.One day as she was tasting quite a new kind of grass and wondering if it was as good as what she had had for dinner the day before, a hare happened to pass by.
"Well, that is a fat creature," thought she, and turned out of her path to tell the news to a lion who was a friend of hers. Now the lion had been very ill and was not strong enough to go hunting for himself, and when the hare came and told him that a very fat donkey was to be found only a few hundred yards off, tears of disappointment and weakness filled his eyes.
"What is the good of telling me that?" he asked in a weepy voice. "You know I cannot even walk as far as that palm."
"Never mind," answered the hare briskly. "If you can't go to your dinner, your dinner shall come to you," and nodding a farewell to the lion she went back to the donkey.
"Good morning," said she, bowing politely to the donkey, who lifted her head in surprise. "Excuse my interrupting you, but I have come on very important business."
"Indeed," answered the donkey, "it is most kind of you to take the trouble. May I inquire what the business is?"
"Certainly," replied the hare. "It is my friend the lion who has heard so much of your charms and good qualities that he has sent me to beg that you will give him your paw in marriage. He regrets deeply that he is unable to make the request in person, but he has been ill and is too weak to move."
"Poor fellow! How sad!" said the donkey. "But you must tell him that I feel honored by his proposal and will gladly consent to be Queen of the Beasts."
"Will you not come and tell him so yourself?" asked the hare.
Side by side they went down the road which led to the lion's house. It took a long while, for the donkey was so fat with eating she could only walk very slowly, and the hare, who could have run the distance in about five minutes, was obliged to creep along till she almost dropped with fatigue at not being able to go at her own pace.
When at last they arrived the lion was sitting up at the entrance, looking very pale and thin. The donkey suddenly grew shy and hung her head, but the lion put on his best manners and invited both his visitors to come in and make themselves comfortable.
Very soon the hare go up and said, "Well, as I have another engagement I will leave you to make acquaintance with your future husband," and winking at the lion she bounded away.
The donkey expected that as soon as they were left alone the lion would begin to speak of their marriage, and where they should live, but as he said nothing she looked up.
To her surprise and terror she saw him crouching in the corner, his eyes glaring with a red light, and with a loud roar he sprang towards her. But in that moment the donkey had had time to prepare herself, and jumping on one side dealt the lion such a hard kick that he shrieked with the pain. Again and again he struck at her with his claws, but the donkey could bite too, as well as the lion, who was very weak after his illness, and at last a well planted kick knocked him right over, and he rolled on the floor, groaning with pain.
The donkey did not wait for him to get up, but ran away as fast as she could and was lost in the forest.
Now the hare, who knew quite well what would happen, had not gone to do her business, but hid herself in some bushes behind the cave, where she could hear quite clearly the sounds of the battle. When all was quiet again she crept gently out, and stole round the corner.
"Well, lion, have you killed her?" asked she, running swiftly up the path.
"Killed her, indeed!" answered the lion sulkily, "it is she who has nearly killed me. I never knew a donkey could kick like that, though I took care she should carry away the marks of my claws."
"Dear me! Fancy such a great fat creature being able to fight!" cried the hare. "But don't vex yourself. Just lie still, and your wounds will soon heal," and she bade her friend good-bye, and returned to her family.
Two or three weeks passed, and only bare places on the donkey's back showed where the lion's claws had been, while, on his side, the lion had recovered from his illness and was now as strong as ever. He was beginning to think that it was almost time for him to begin hunting again, when one morning a rustle was heard in the creepers outside, and the hare's head peeped through.
"Ah! there is no need to ask how you are," she said. "Still you mustn't overtire yourself, you know. Shall I go and bring you your dinner?"
"If you will bring me that donkey I will tear it in two," cried the lion savagely, and the hare laughed and nodded and went on her errand.
This time the donkey was much further than before, and it took longer to find her. At last the hare caught sight of four hoofs in the air, and ran towards them. The donkey was lying on a soft cool bed of moss near a stream, rolling herself backwards and forwards from pleasure.
"Good morning," said the hare politely, and the donkey got slowly onto her legs, and looked to see who her visitor could be.
"Oh, it is you, is it?" she exclaimed. "Come and have a chat. What news have you got?"
"I mustn't stay," answered the hare; "but I promised the lion to beg you to pay him a visit, as he is not well enough to call on you."
"Well, I don't know," replied the donkey gloomily. "The last time we went he scratched me very badly, and really I was quite afraid."
"He was only trying to kiss you," said the hare, "and you bit him, and of course that made him cross."
"If I were sure of that," hesitated the donkey.
"Oh, you may be quite sure," laughed the hare. "I have a large acquaintance among lions. But let us be quick," and rather unwillingly the donkey set out.
The lion saw them coming and hid himself behind a large tree. As the donkey went past, followed by the hare, he sprang out, and with one blow of his paw stretched the poor foolish creature dead before him.
"Take this meat and skin it and roast it," he said to the hare; "but my appetite is not so good as it was, and the only part I want for myself is the heart. The rest you can either eat yourself or give away to your friends."
"Thank you," replied the hare, balancing the donkey on her back as well as she was able, and though the legs trailed along the ground she managed to drag it to an open space some distance off, where she made a fire and roasted it.
As soon as it was cooked, the hare took out the heart and had just finished eating it when the lion, who was tired of waiting, came up.
"I am hungry," said he. "Bring me the creature's heart. It is just what I want for supper."
"But there is no heart," answered the hare, looking up at the lion with a puzzled face.
"What nonsense!" said the lion. "As if every beast had not got a heart. What do you mean?"
"This is a washerman's donkey," replied the hare gravely.
"Well, and suppose it is?"
"Oh, fie!" exclaimed the fare. "You, a lion and a grown-up person, and ask questions like that. If the donkey had had a heart would she be here now? The first time she came she knew you were trying to kill her, and ran away. Yet she came back a second time. Well, if she had had a heart would she have come back a second time? Now would she?"
And the lion answered slowly, "No, she would not."
"So you think I am a washerman's donkey?" said the monkey to the shark, when the story was ended. "You are wrong. I am not. And as the sun is getting low in the sky, it is time for you to begin your homeward journey. You will have a nice cool voyage, and I hope you will find the sultan better. Farewell!"
And the monkey disappeared among the green branches, and was gone.
Brer Rabbit was a mighty man at a frolic. I don't expect he'd show up much in these days, but in the times when the creatures were bossing their own jobs, Brer Rabbit was up for pretty nigh everything that was going on, if there wasn't too much work in it. There couldn't be a dance or a quilting anywhere around but what he'd be there. He was the first to come and the last to go.
Well, there was one time when he went too far and stayed too late, because a big rain came during the time when they were playing and dancing, and when Brer Rabbit put out for home, he found that a big freshet had come and gone. The drains had got to be creeks, the creeks had got to be rivers, and the rivers -- well, I'm not going to tell you what the rivers were, because you'd think that I'd told the truth good-bye.
By making big jumps and going out of his way, Brer Rabbit managed to get as close to home as the creek, but when he got there, the creek was so wide that it made him feel like he'd been lost so long that his family had forgotten him. Many and many a time he'd crossed that creek on a log, but the log was gone, and the water was spread out all over creation. The water was wide, but that wasn't more than half -- it looked like it was the wettest water that Brer Rabbit had ever laid eyes on.
There was a ferry there for times like this, but it looked like it was a bigger freshet than what they had counted on. Brer Rabbit, he sat on the bank and wiped the damp out of his face and eyes, and then he hollered for the man that ran the ferry. He hollered and hollered, and by and by he heard someone answer him, and he looked a little closer, and there was the man -- his name was Jerry -- way up in the top limbs of a tree. And he looked still closer, and he saw that Jerry had company, because there was old Brer Bear sitting at the foot of the tree waiting for Jerry to come down, so he could tell him howdy.
Well, sir, Brer Rabbit took notice that there was something more than dampness between them, and he started to holler again, and he hollered so loud and he hollered so long that he woke up old Brer Alligator.
Now it didn't make old Brer Alligator feel good to be woken up at that hour, because he'd just had a nice supper of pine-nuts and sweet potatoes and was lying out at full length on his mud bed. He allowed to himself, he did, "Who in the nation is this trying to holler the bottom out of the creek?"
He listened, and then he turned over and listened again. He shut one eye, and then he shut the other one, but there was no sleeping in that neighborhood.
Jerry in the tree, he hollered back, "Can't come -- got company!"
Brer Alligator, he heard this, and he said to himself that if nobody else can come, he can, and he rose to the top with no more fuss than a featherbed makes when you leave it alone. He rose, he did, and his two eyes looked exactly like two bullets floating on the water. He rose and winked his eye and asked Brer Rabbit howdy, and more especially how was his daughter.
Brer Rabbit, he said that there was no telling how his daughter was, because when he left home her head was swelling. He said that some of the neighbors' children had come and flung rocks at her and one of them had hit her on top of the head right where the cowlick is, and he had had to run after the doctor.
Brer Alligator allowed, "You don't tell me, Brer Rabbit, that it's come to this! Your children getting chunked by your neighbors' children. Well, well, well! I wish you'd tell me where it's all going to end. Why it'll get after a while that there's no peace anywhere except at my house in the bed of the creek."
Brer Rabbit said, "Isn't it the truth? And not only do Brer Fox's children chunk my children on their cowlicks, but no sooner have I gone after the doctor than here comes the creek a-rising. I may be wrong, but I'm not scared to say that it beats anything I have ever laid eyes on. Over yonder in the far wood is where my daughter is lying with a headache, and here is her pa, and between us is the boiling creek. If I were to try to wade, ten to one the water would be over my head, and if that's not bad, all the pills that the doctor gave me would melt in my pocket. And they might poison me, because the doctor didn't say that they were to be taken outside."
Old Brer Alligator floated on the water like he didn't weigh more than one of these here postage stamps, and he tried to drop a tear. He groaned, he did, and floated backwards and forwards like a tired canoe.
He said, "Brer Rabbit, if there ever was a rover, you are one. Up you come and off you go, and there is no more keeping up with you than if you had wings. If you think you can stay in one place long enough, I'll try to put you across the creek."
Brer Rabbit kind of rubbed his chin while he wiggled his nose. He allowed, said he, "Brer Gator, how deep is that water that you are floating in?"
Brer Alligator said, "Brer Rabbit, if my old woman and I were to join heads, and I were to stand on the tip end of my tail, there'd still be room enough for all of my children before we touched bottom."
Brer Rabbit, he fell back like he was going to faint. He allowed, "Brer Gator, you don't tell me! You surely don't mean those last words! Why you make me feel like I'm further from home than those who are done lost for good! How in the name of goodness are you going to put me across this slippery water?"
Brer Alligator, he blew a bubble or two out of his nose, and then he said, "If you can stand still in one place long enough, I'm going to take you across on my back. You needn't say "thank you," but I want you to know that I'm not everybody's water-horse."
Brer Rabbit allowed, said he, "I can well believe that, Brer Gator, but somehow I kind of got a notion that your tail is mighty limber. I hear old folks say that you can knock a chip from the back of your head with the tip end of your tail and never half try."
Brer Alligator smacked his mouth and said, "Limber my tail may be, Brer Rabbit, and far reaching, but don't blame me. It was that way when it was given to me. It's all jointed up according to nature."
Brer Rabbit, he studied and he studied, and the more he studied, the worse he liked it. But he pleased to go home -- there were no two ways about that -- and he allowed, said he, "I suspect what you say is somewhere in the neighborhood of the truth, Brer Gator, and more than that, I believe that I'll go along with you. If you'll ride up a little closer, I'll make up my mind, so I won't keep you waiting."
Brer Alligator, he floated by the side of the bank the same as a cork out of a pickle bottle. He didn't do like he was in a hurry, because he dropped a word or two about the weather, and he said that the water was mighty cold down there in the slushes. But Brer Rabbit took notice that when he smiled one of his smiles, he showed up a double row of tusks that looked like they'd do mighty good work in a sawmill.
Brer Rabbit, he began to shake like he was having a chill. He allowed, "I feel that damp, Brer Gator, that I might just as well be in water up to my chin!"
Brer Alligator didn't say anything, but he couldn't hide his tusks. Brer Rabbit looked up, he looked down, and he looked all around. He scarcely knew what to do. He allowed, "Brer Gator, your back is mighty rough. How am I going to ride on it?"
Brer Alligator said, "The roughness will help you to hold on, because you'll have to ride a-straddle. You can just get your feet on the bumps and kind of brace yourself when you think you see a log floating at us. You can just sit up there the same as if you were sitting at home in your rocking chair.
Brer Rabbit shook his head, but he got on, he did, and he had no sooner gotten on than he wished mighty hard that he was off.
Brer Alligator said, "You can pant if you want to, but I'll do the paddling," and he slipped through the water just like he was greased.
Brer Rabbit sure was scared, but he kept his eyes open, and by and by he took notice that Brer Alligator wasn't making for the place where the landing was at, and he up and said so. He allowed, "Brer Gator, if I'm not much mistaken, you're not heading for the landing."
Brer Alligator said, "You sure have got mighty good eyes, Brer Rabbit. I've been waiting for you a long time, and I'm the worst kind of waiter. I must know you haven't forgot that day in the stubble when you said you were going to show me Old Man Trouble. Well, you didn't only show him to me, but you made me shake hands with him. You set the dry grass afire and burned me scandalously. That's the reason my back is so rough, and that's the reason my hide is so tough. Well, I've been a-waiting since that time, and now here you are. You burned me until I had to quench the burning in the big quagmire."
Brer Alligator laughed, but he had the laugh all on his side, because that was one of the times when Brer Rabbit didn't feel like giggling. He sat there a-shaking and a-shivering. By and by he allowed, said he, "What are you going to do, Brer Gator?"
Brer Alligator said, "It looks to me like since you set the dry grass afire, I've been having symptoms. That's what the doctor said. He looked at my tongue, and he felt my pulse, and he shook his head. He said that beings he's my friend, he didn't mind telling me that my symptoms are getting worse than what they have been, and if I don't take something I'll be falling into one of these here inclines that make folks flabby and weak."
Brer Rabbit, he shook and he shivered. He allowed, "What else did the doctor say, Brer Gator?"
Brer Alligator kept on a-slipping along. He said, "The doctor didn't only look at my tongue. He measured my breath, and he hit me on my bosom -- tip-tap-tap! -- and he said there was but one thing that will cure me. I asked him what it is, and he said it's rabbit gizzard."
Brer Alligator slipped and slid along and waited to see what Brer Rabbit was going to say to that. He didn't have to wait long, because Brer Rabbit did his thinking like one of these here machines that has lightning in it. He allowed, he said, "It's a mighty good thing you struck up with me this day, Brer Gator, because I have exactly the kind of physic you are looking for. All the neighbors say I'm mighty queer, and I suspect I am, but queer or not queer, I've long been looking for the gizzard-eater."
Brer Alligator didn't say anything. He just slid through the water and listened to what Brer Rabbit was saying.
Brer Rabbit allowed, he said, "The last time I took sick the doctor came in a hurry, and he sat up with me all night -- not a wink of sleep did that man get. He said he could tell by the way I was going on, rolling and tossing, and moaning and groaning, that no physic was going to do me any good. I've never seen a doctor scratch his head like that doctor did. He acted like he was stumped, he sure did. He said he had never seen anybody with my kind of trouble, and he went off and called in one of his brer doctors, and the two knocked their heads together, and they said my trouble all comes from having a double gizzard. When my old woman heard that she just flung her apron over her head and fell back in a dead faint, and a little more and I'd have had to pay a doctor bill on her account. When she squalled, some of my children got scared and took to the wood, and they hadn't all got back when I left home last night."
Brer Alligator, he just went a-slipping along through the water. He listened, but he didn't say anything.
Brer Rabbit allowed, said he, "It's the fatal truth, all this that I'm a-telling you. The doctor, he flew around until he fetched my old woman to, and then he said there was no need to be skittish on account of my having a double gizzard, because all I had to do was to be kind of careful with my chewings and gnawings, and my comings and goings. He said that I'd have to suffer with it until I find the gizzard-eater. I asked him whereabouts he is, and he said that I'd know him when I see him, and if I fail to know him, he'll make himself known to me. This kind of irritates me, because when a man's a doctor, and he's got the idea of curing anybody, there is no need of dealing in riddles. But he said that there was no use in telling all you know, especially before dinner."
Brer Alligator went a-sliding along through the water. He listened and smacked his mouth, but he didn't say anything.
Brer Rabbit, he talked on. He allowed, said he, "And there was one thing he told me plainer than all the rest. He said that when anybody was afflicted with the double gizzard, they daresn't cross water with it, because if there's anything that a double gizzard won't stand, it's the smell of water."
Brer Alligator went slipping along through the water, but he felt like the time had come when he pleased to say something. He said, "How come you are crossing water now, if the doctor told you that?"
This made Brer Rabbit laugh. He allowed, "Maybe I oughtn't tell you, but before I can cross water, that double gizzard has got to come out. The doctor told me that if she ever smells water, there'll be such a swelling up that my skin won't hold me. And no longer ago than last night, before I came to cross this creek -- it was a creek then, whatsoever you may call it now -- I took out my double gizzard and hid it in a hickory hollow. And if you are the gizzard-eater, now is your chance, because if you put it off, you may rue the day. If you are in the notion, I'll take you right there and show you the stump where I hid it at -- and if you want to be lonesome about it, I'll let you go by yourself and I'll stay right here."
Brer Alligator, he slipped and slid through the water. He said, "Where'd you say you'd stay?"
Brer Rabbit allowed, said he, "I'll stay right here, Brer Gator, or anywhere else you may choose. I don't care much where I stay or what I do, so long as I get rid of that double gizzard that's been a-terrifying me. You better go by yourself, because bad as that double gizzard has done me, I got kind of a tendersome feeling for it, and I'm afraid if I were to go along with you and see you grab it, there'd be some boo-hooing done. If you go by yourself, just rap on the stump and say, 'If you are ready, I'm ready and a little more so,' and you won't have any trouble with her. She's hid right in those woods yonder, and the hollow hickory stump isn't so mighty far from where the bank of the creek ought to be."
Brer Gator didn't have much more sense than what it'd take to climb a fence after someone had pulled it down, and so he kind of slewed himself around and steered for the woods -- the same woods where there are so many trees, and where old Sis Owl starts all the whirlwinds by fanning her wings. Brer Alligator swam and steered until he came close to land, and when he did that, Brer Rabbit made a big jump and landed on solid ground. He might have got his feet wet, but if he did, that was all. He allowed, said he:
You poor old Gator, if you'd have known A from Izzard,
You'd know mighty well that I'd keep my Gizzard.
And with that he was done gone -- done clean gone!
Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.
Revised January 23, 2002.