FABLES and Trickster

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Fables

& Trickster
Tales

Student
Name:__________________________Rm:____
Aesop and Ananse:
Animal Fables and Trickster Tales
"Through these stories we visit with our ancestors as we
receive and, in turn, pass on their wisdom through the
millennia."
--(from IAHBING, "The Talking Drum")

Introduction
Fables and trickster tales are short narratives that use animal characters with human
features to convey folk wisdom and to help us understand human nature and human
behavior. These stories were originally passed down through oral tradition and were
eventually written down. The legendary figure Aesop was reported to have orally passed
on his animal fables, which have been linked to earlier beast tales from India and were
later written down by the Greeks and Romans. Ananse trickster tales derive from the
Asante people of Ghana and were brought by African slaves to the Caribbean and parts
of the U.S. These tales developed into Brer Rabbit stories and were written down in the
19th century in the American South. (Please note that different versions of spellings of
“Ananse” and “Anansi,” and of “Asante,” “Ashante,” and “Ashanti” exist.)

In this unit, you will become familiar with fables and trickster tales from different
cultural traditions and will see how stories change when transferred orally between
generations and cultures. You will learn how both types of folktales employ various
animals in different ways to portray human strengths and weaknesses and to pass down
wisdom from one generation to the next.
Guiding Questions:
What is a fable, and how are fables different from other types of stories? What is a
trickster tale, and how is it different from other types of tales and from fables? What are
the elements common to fables and trickster tales? Where does each of these types of
stories come from? How have fables and trickster tales been passed down through time
and around the world? What kinds of wisdom about human nature and human behavior
do we learn from fables, and how is this wisdom relevant today?

Folk Wisdom
At the end of a fable there is generally a moral. At the end of a trickster tale, there is
often a piece of folk wisdom, such as this typical ending element of an Anansi tale:

"And that is why Old People say: If yu follow trouble, trouble follow yu."

Trickster Tales - Definition


A fable or trickster tale is a short narrative that uses animal characters with human
features to convey some universal truth about human nature and human behavior and to
pass down wisdom from earlier generations in ways that can be used for present-day
situations. While fables tend to end in moral or cautionary lessons, trickster tales often
celebrate values or actions that are disapproved of by society but that may be necessary
for the survival and success of the small and weak; together, fables and trickster stories
allow us to see the complexities of the human character. What do you think about the
Spider character in the story? Do you like him and his actions? Why or why not? Why is
Spider called a "trickster"?

“The talking drum” is a story that is passed orally through generations and cultures, and
that changes as it moves from person to person and from place to place. What the
advantages and disadvantages are of the oral and written forms of passing on stories?
SIMILES – The Fable/Trickster Tale Connection
Sly as a Fox; Busy as a Bee
In fables and trickster tales, certain animals are associated with certain human traits -
which animals have which human traits in which cultures? Do you associate these
animals with the traits given to them in the stories?

Fill out the following chart, listing the animals in the fables you have read and heard,
and then to list the corresponding traits. Then, think of your own animals you can add to
the chart and to provide traits that you associate with these animals.

Animal Traits

From
Stories
___________________ _______________________

Add
Your
Own
___________________ _______________________
The Moral of the Story
Often fables and trickster tales illustrate how a smaller or weaker animal uses cunning to
outwit a stronger, more powerful animal. Why would this theme occur repeatedly in so
many stories and across countries and cultures?

Additional Background Regarding the Fable Genre:

The Tale, the Parable, and the Fable are all common and popular modes of
teaching. Each is distinguished by its own special characteristics. The Tale
consists simply in the narration of a story either founded on facts, or created
solely by the imagination, and not necessarily associated with the teaching of
any moral lesson. The Parable is purposely intended to convey a hidden and
secret meaning other than that contained in the words themselves.
The Fable partly agrees with, and partly differs from both of these. It
will contain, like the Tale, a short but real narrative; it will seek, like the
Parable, to convey a hidden meaning, doing so through the skilful
introduction of fictitious characters; and yet unlike to either Tale or Parable,
it always has the great purpose of instruction in mind, and will deliver a
moral maxim, social duty, or political truth.
The true Fable’s goal is the improvement of human conduct, and yet it
so conceals its purpose under the disguise of fictitious characters, by giving
the power of speech to the animals of the field, the birds of the air, the trees
of the wood, or the beasts of the forest, that the reader shall receive advice
without realizing they are being advised. Thus, the lesson comes with the
greater acceptance because the reader/listener feels like he is discovering
truth for himself rather than being told what to do.
The animals or fictitious characters used in a fable should be chosen
carefully so as to demonstrate their natural characteristics. The Fox should
be
always cunning, the Hare timid, the Lion bold, the Wolf cruel, the Bull
strong, the Horse proud, and the Ass patient. The narrative should always
be short, and the moral should flow naturally from it.
Belling the Cat
The mice once called a meeting to decide on a plan to free
themselves of their enemy, the cat. At least they wished to find
some way of knowing when she was coming, so they might
have some time to run away. Indeed, something had to be done, for
they lived in such constant fear of her claws that they hardly dared stir
from their dens by night or day.
Many plans were discussed, but none of them was thought good enough. At
last, a very young mouse got up and said, “I have a plan that seems very simple,
but I know it will be successful. All we have to do is hang a bell around the cat’s
neck. When we hear the bell ringing, we will know immediately that our enemy is
coming.”
All the mice were so surprised that they had not thought of such a plan
before. But in the midst of the rejoicing over their good fortune, an old mouse rose
up and said, “I will say that the plan of the young mouse is very good. But let me
ask one question: Who will hang the bell on the cat?”

The Lion and the Mouse


A lion lay asleep in the forest, his great head resting on his
paws. A timid little mouse came upon him unexpectedly,
and in her fright and haste to get away, ran right across the
lion’s nose. Roused from his nap, the lion laid his huge paw angrily on the tiny
creature to kill her.
“Spare me!” begged the poor mouse. “Please let me go, and some day I will
surely repay you.”
The lion was much amused to think that a mouse could ever help him, but he
was a generous lion, and finally let the mouse go.
Some days later, while stalking his prey in the forest, the lion was caught in a
hunter’s net. Unable to free himself, he filled the forest with his angry roaring. The
mouse knew his voice, and quickly came and found the lion struggling in the net.
Running to one of the great ropes that bound the lion, she gnawed it until it parted,
and soon the lion was free.
“You laughed when I said I would repay you, “said the mouse. “Now you see
that even a mouse can help a lion.”
The Boy Who Cried Wolf
A shepherd boy tended his master’s sheep near a dark
forest not far from the village. Soon, he found life in the
pasture very dull. All he could do to amuse himself was talk
to his dog or play a tune on his shepherd’s pipe.
One day as he sat watching the sheep and the quiet
forest, he began to think about what he would do if he should see a wolf. He
thought of a plan to amuse himself. His master had told him to call for help if a
wolf attacked the flock, and the villagers would come running to drive it away. So
now, even though he had not seen anything that even looked like a wolf, he ran
toward the village shouting at the top of his voice, “Wolf! Wolf!”
As he expected, the villagers heard his cry and dropped their work to run to
the pasture in great excitement. But when they got there, they found the boy
doubled up with laughter at the trick he had played on them.
A few days later, the boy again shouted, “Wolf! Wolf!” Again the villagers
ran to help him, only to be laughed at again.
Then one evening, as the sun was setting behind the forest and the shadows
were creeping out over the pasture, a wolf really did spring from the underbrush
and fall upon the sheep.
In terror, the boy ran toward the village shouting, “Wolf! Wolf!” But though
the villagers heard his cry, they did not run to help him as they had before. “He
cannot fool us again,” they said.
The wolf killed a great many of the boy’s sheep and then slipped away into
the forest.

The Ants and the

Grasshopper
One bright day in late autumn, a family of ants were busting about in the warm
sunshine, drying out the grain they had stored up during the summer. A starving
grasshopper, his fiddle under his arm, came up and humbly begged for a bite to
eat.
“What?” cried the ants in surprise, “haven’t you stored anything away for
the winter? What in the world were you doing all last summer?”
“I didn’t have time to store up any food, “ whined the grasshopper. “I was so
busy making music that before I knew it the summer was gone.”
The ants shrugged their shoulders in disgust. “Making music, were you?”
they cried. “Very well, now you can dance!” They turned their backs on the
grasshopper and went on with their work.
The Fox and the Goat
A fox fell into a well, and though it was not very deep, he
found that he could not get out again. After he had been in
the well for a long time, a thirsty goat came by. The goat
thought the fox had gone down to drink, and so he asked if the water was good.
“The finest in the whole country,” said the crafty fox, “jump in and try it.
There is more than enough for both of us.”
The thirsty goat immediately jumped in and began to drink. The fox just as
quickly jumped up on the goat’s back and then leaped up onto the tips of the goat’s
horns and out of the well.
The foolish goat now saw what a plight he had gotten into. He begged the fox
to help him out, but the fox was already on his way to the woods.
“If you had as much sense as you have beard, old fellow,” he said as he ran,
“you would have been more cautious about finding a way to get out again before
you jumped in.”

The Goose and the Golden Egg


There was once a country man who possessed the most
wonderful goose you can imagine, for every day when he
visited the nest, the goose had laid a beautiful, glittering,
golden egg.
The country man took the eggs to market and soon began to
get rich. But it was not long before he grew impatient with
the goose because she only gave him a single golden egg each
day. He was not getting rich fast enough.
Then one day, after he had finished counting his money, the idea came to him
that he could get all the golden eggs at once by killing the goose and cutting it open.
But when the deed was done, not a single golden egg did he find, and his precious
goose was dead.
The Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing
A certain wolf could not get enough to eat because of
the watchfulness of the shepherds. But one night he found
a sheep skin that had been cast aside and forgotten. The
next day, dressed in the skin, the wolf strolled into the
pasture with the sheep. Soon a little lamb was following
him about and was quickly led away to slaughter. The wolf
was delighted that his new plan was working out well.
That evening the wolf entered the fold with the flock.
But it happened that the shepherd took a fancy for mutton broth that very evening,
and, picking up a knife, went to the fold. There, the first sheep he laid hands on
and killed was the wolf!

The Milkmaid and Her Pail


A milkmaid had been out to milk the cows and was
returning from the field with the shining milk pail balanced neatly
on her head. As she walked along, her pretty head was busy with
plans for the days to come.
“This good, rich milk,” she mused, “will give me plenty of
cream to churn. I will take the butter I make to market, and with the
money I get for it I will buy lots of eggs for hatching. How nice it will be when they
are all hatched and the yard is full of fine young chicks. Then, when May Day
comes, I will sell them. With the money I earn, I will buy a lovely new dress to wear
to the fair. All the young men will look at me. They will all fall in love with me, but
I shall very quickly send them about their business!”
As she thought of how she would settle that matter, she tossed her head
scornfully, and down fell the pail of milk! All the milk flowed out, and with it
vanished butter and eggs and chicks and new dress and all the milkmaid’s pride.
The Tortoise and the Hare
A hare was making fun of the tortoise one day
for being so slow.
“Do you ever get anywhere?” he asked with a
mocking laugh.
“Yes,” replied the tortoise, “and I get there
sooner than you think. I’ll run you a race and prove
it!”
The hare was much amused at the idea of running a race with the tortoise,
but for the fun of the thing he agreed. So the fox, who had consented to act as
judge, marked the distance and started the runners off.
The hare was soon far out of sight, and to make the tortoise feel very deeply
how ridiculous it was for him to try a race with a hare, he lay down beside the
course to take a nap until the tortoise should catch up.
The tortoise meanwhile kept going slowly but steadily, and, after a time,
passed the place where the hare was sleeping. But the hare slept on very peacefully.
When at last he did awaken, the tortoise was near the goal. The hare now ran his
swiftest, but he could not overtake the tortoise in time.

The Fox and the Crow


One bright morning as the fox was following his sharp nose
through the wood in search of a bite to eat, he saw a crow on the limb of a tree
overhead. This was by no means the first crow the fox had ever seen. What caught his attention
this time and made him stop for a second look, was that the lucky crow held a bit of cheese in her
beak.
“No need to search any father,” thought the sly fox. “Here is a dainty bite for my
breakfast.”
Up he trotted to the foot of the tree in which the crow was sitting, and looking up
admiringly, he cried, “Good morning, beautiful creature!”
The crow, her head cocked on one side, watched the fox suspiciously. But she kept her
beak tightly closed on the cheese and did not return his greeting.
“What a charming creature she is!” said the fox. “How her feathers shine! What a
beautiful form and what splendid wings! Such a wonderful bird should have a very lovely voice,
since everything else about her is so perfect. Could she sing just one song, I know I should hail
her Queen of Birds.”
Listening to these flattering words, the crow forgot all her suspicion, and also her
breakfast. She wanted very much to be called Queen of Birds. So, she opened her beak wide to
utter her loudest caw, and down fell the cheese, straight into the fox’s open mouth.
“Thank you,” said the fox sweetly, as he walked off. “Though it is cracked, you have a
voice sure enough. But where are your wits?”
The Miller, His Son, and the Ass
One day, a long time ago, an old miller and his son were on their way to market with
an ass which they hoped to sell. They drove him very slowly, for they thought they
would have a better chance to sell him if they kept him in good condition. As they
walked along the highway, some travelers laughed loudly at them.
“What foolishness,” cried one, “to walk when they might as well ride. The most stupid of the three is
not the one you would expect it to be.”
The miller did not like to be laughed at, so he told his son to climb up and ride. They had gone a
little farther along the road, when three merchants passed by.
“Oho, what have we here?” they cried. “Respect old age, young man! Get down and let the old
man ride!” Though the miller was not tired, he made the boy get down and climbed up himself to ride,
just to please the merchants.
At the next turnstile they overtook some women carrying market baskets loaded with vegetables
and other things to sell.
“Look at that old fool, “ exclaimed one of them. “Perched on the ass while that poor boy has to
walk.”
The old miller felt a bit vexed, but to be agreeable he told the boy to climb up behind him. They
had no sooner started out again than a loud shout went up from another company of people on the road.
“What a crime,” cried one, “to load up a poor dumb beast like that! They look more able to carry
the poor creature than he to carry them.”
“They must be on their way to sell the poor thing’s hide,” said another.
Then the miller and his son quickly scrambled down. A short time later, the marketplace was
thrown into an uproar as the two came along carrying the donkey slung from a pole. A great crowd of
people ran out to get a closer look at the strange sight.
The ass did not dislike being carried, but so many people came out to point at him and laugh and
shout, that he began to kick and bray, and then, the ropes that held him gave way, and down he tumbled
into the river.
The poor miller went sadly home. By trying to please everybody, he had pleased nobody, and lost
his ass besides.

The Lion, the Ass, and the Fox


A lion, an ass, and a fox were hunting in company, and
caught a large quantity of game. The ass was asked to divide
the spoil. This he did very fairly, giving each an equal share.
The fox was well satisfied, but the lion flew into a great rage
over it, and with one stroke of his huge paw, he added the ass to
the pile of the slain. Then he turned to the fox.
“You divide it,” he roared angrily.
The fox wasted no time in talking. He quickly piled all the game into one
great heap. From this he took a very small portion for himself, such undesirable
bits as the horns and hoofs of a mountain goat, and the end of an ox tail.
The lion now recovered his good humor entirely.
“Who taught you to divide so fairly?” he asked pleasantly.
“I learned a lesson from the ass,” replied the fox, carefully edging away.
From Tiger To Anansi
An African Folktale

Once upon a time, and a long, long time ago, the Tiger was king of the forest. At
evening, when all the animals sat together in a circle and talked and laughed together,
Snake would ask, “Who is the strongest of us all?”
“Tiger is the strongest,” cried the dog. “When Tiger whispers, the trees listen.
When Tiger is angry and cries out, the trees tremble.”
“And who is the weakest of all?” asked Snake.
“Anansi,” shouted Dog, and they all laughed together, “Anansi the spider is
weakest of all. When he whispers, no one listens. When he shouts, everyone laughs.”
Now one day the weakest and the strongest came face to face: Anansi and Tiger.
They met in a clearing of the forest. The frogs hiding under the cool leaves saw them.
The bright green parrots in the branches heard them. When they met, Anansi bowed so
low that his forehead touched the ground. Tiger did not greet him. Tiger just looked at
Anansi.
“Good morning, Tiger,” cried Anansi. “I have a favor to ask.”
“And what is it, Anansi?” said Tiger.
“Tiger, we all know that you are strongest of us all. This is why we give your
name to many things. We have Tiger Lilies, and Tiger Stories and Tiger Moths, and
Tiger this and Tiger that. Everyone knows that I am the weakest of all. This is why
nothing bears my name. Tiger, let something be called after the weakest one so that men
may know my name, too.”
“Well,” said Tiger, without so much as a glance toward Anansi, “what would you
like to bear your name?”
“The stories,” cried Anansi. “The stories that we tell in the forest at evening time
when the sun goes down. The stories about Br’er Snake and Br’er Tacumah, B’rer Cow
and Br’er Bird, and all of us.”
Now Tiger liked these stories and he meant to keep them as Tiger Stories. He
thought to himself, “How stupid, how weak this Anansi is. I will play a trick on him so
that all the animals will laugh at him.” Tiger moved his tail slowly from side to side and
said, “Very good, Anansi, very good. I will let the stories be named after you if you do
what I ask.”
“Tiger, I will do what you ask.”
“Yes, I am sure you will, I am sure you will,” said Tiger, moving his tail slowly
from side to side. “It is a little thing that I ask. Bring me Mr. Snake alive. Do you know
Snake who lives down by the river, Anansi? Bring him to me alive and you can have the
stories.”
Tiger stopped speaking. He did not move his tail. He
looked at Anansi and waited for him to speak. All the
animals in the forest waited. Mr. Frog beneath the cool
leaves, Mr. Parrot up in the tree, all watched Anansi. They
were all ready to laugh at him.
“Tiger, I will do what you ask,” said Anansi. At these words, a
great wave of laughter burst from the forest. The
frogs and parrots laughed. Tiger laughed loudest of
all, for how could feeble Anansi catch Snake alive?
Anansi went away. He heard the forest laughing at
him from every side.
That was on Monday morning. Anansi sat before his house and
thought of plan after plan. At last he hit upon one that could not fail. He
would build a Calaban.
On Tuesday morning, Anansi built a Calaban. He took a strong
vine and made a noose. He hid the vine in the grass. Inside the noose, he set some of the
berries that Snake loved best. Then he waited. Soon Snake came up the path. He saw the
berries and went toward them. He lay across the vine and ate the berries. Anansi pulled
the vine to tighten the noose, but Snake’s body was too heavy. Anansi saw that the
Calaban had failed.
Wednesday came. Anansi made a deep hole in the ground. He made the sides
slippery with grease. In the bottom he put some of the bananas that Snake loved. Then
he hid in the bushes beside the road and waited.
Snake came crawling down the path toward the river. He was hungry and thirsty.
He saw the bananas at the bottom of the hole. He saw that the sides of the
hole were slippery. First, he wrapped his tail tightly around the trunk of a
tree, then he reached down into the hole and ate the bananas. When he was
finished, he pulled himself up by his tail and crawled away. Anansi had lost
his bananas, and he had lost Snake, too.
Thursday morning came. Anansi made a Fly Up. Inside the trap he put an egg.
Snake came down the path. He was happy this morning, so happy that he lifted his head
and a third of his long body from the ground. He just lowered his head, took up the egg
in his mouth, and never even touched the trap. The Fly Up could not catch Snake.
What was Anansi to do? Friday morning came. He sat and thought all day. It was
no use.
Now it was Saturday morning. This was the last day. Anansi went for a walk
down by the river. He passed by the hole where Snake lived. There was Snake, his body
hidden in the hole, his head resting on the ground at the entrance to the hole. It was early
morning. Snake was watching the sun rise above the mountains.
“Good morning, Anansi,” said Snake.
“Good morning, Snake,” said Anansi.
“Anansi, I am very angry with you. You have been trying to catch me all week.
You set a Fly Up to catch me. The day before, you made a Slippery Hole for me. The
day before that, you made a Calaban. I have a good mind to kill you, Anansi.”
“Ah, you are too clever, Snake,” said Anansi. “You are much too
clever. Yes, what you say is so. I tried to catch you, but I failed. Now I can
never prove that you are the longest animal in the world – longer even than
the bamboo tree.”
“Of course I am the longest of all animals,” cried Snake. “I am much longer than
the bamboo tree.”
“What, longer than that bamboo tree across there?” asked Anansi.
“Of course I am,” said Snake. “Look and see.” Snake came out of the hole and
stretched himself out at full length.
“Yes, you are very, very long,” said Anansi, “but the bamboo is very long, too.
Now that I look at you and at the bamboo tree, I must say that the bamboo tree seems
longer. But it’s hard to say, because it is farther away.”
“Well, bring it nearer,” cried Snake. “Cut it down and put it beside me. You will
soon see that I am much longer.”
Anansi ran to the bamboo tree and cut it down. He placed it on the ground and cut
off all its branches. Bush, bush, bush, bush! There it was, long and straight as a flagstaff.
“Now put it beside me,” said Snake.
Anansi put the long bamboo tree down on the ground beside Snake. Then he said,
“Snake, when I go up to see where your head is, you will crawl up. When I go down to
see where your tail is, you will crawl down. In that way, you will always seem to be
taller than the bamboo tree, which is really longer than you are.”
“Tie my tail, then!” said Snake. “Tie my tail! I know that I am longer than the
bamboo, whatever you say.”
Anansi tied Snake’s tail to the end of the bamboo. Then he ran up to the other
end.
“Stretch, Snake! Stretch, and we will see who is longer.”
A crowd of animals were gathering round. Here was something better than a race.
“Stretch, Snake, stretch,” they called.
Snake stretched as hard as he could. Anansi tied him around his middle so that he
could not slip back. Now one more try. Snake knew that if he stretched hard enough, he
would prove to be longer than the bamboo.
Anansi ran up to him. “Rest yourself for a little, Snake, and then stretch
again. If you can stretch another six inches, you will be longer
than the bamboo. Try your hardest. Stretch so that you even
have to shut your eyes. Ready?”
“Yes,” said Snake. Then Snake made a mighty effort. He stretched so hard that he
had to squeeze his eyes shut.
“Hooray!” cried the animals. “You are winning, Snake. Just two inches more.”
And at that moment, Anansi tied Snake’s head to the bamboo. There he was. At
last he had caught Snake, all by himself.
The animals fell silent. Yes, there Snake was, all tied up, ready to be taken to
Tiger. And feeble Anansi had done this. They could laugh at him no more.
And never again did Tiger dare to call these stories by his own name. They were
Anansi Stories forever after, from that day to this.
Coyote Brings Fire
Native American---Karok

Long ago, the Fire Beings were the only people who had fire. They
guarded it closely and wouldn't share it with other tribes or
animals. This didn't matter so much in spring and summer, but in
winter many young children and old people died from the icy cold.

Just before the next winter, some of the animals called a meeting.
"We can't let our children and grandparents die from the cold this
year," said Squirrel. "We have to get fire from the Fire Beings to
keep warm."

"How can we do that?" asked Chipmunk. "The Fire Beings won't share
it with us".

"Let's ask Coyote for help" said Frog. "He's crafty and cunning, and
he'll know how to get fire".

Coyote listened and thought about the problem. Then he smiled a


cunning smile.

"There is a way to get fire from the selfish Fire Beings" he said.

"How? How can we do that?" asked Chipmunk.

"We'll take it!" answered Coyote slyly. "I have a plan. Follow me!"

Coyote lead the animals to the Fire Beings' camp on top of the
mountain. The others hid in the bushes while Coyote walked into the
camp.

"Who's there?" screeched one of the Beings. "Someone's trying to


steal our fire".

"It's all right," hissed another. "It's only an old moth eaten coyote".
"Huummph! Moth eaten indeed," thought Coyote, but he didn't say
anything. He lay down by the fire and pretended to go to sleep,
keeping one eye half open.

Three Fire Beings sat nearby. One was huge and ugly - with a small
bald head and big rolls of fat around his stomach. Snot dripped in
long slimy strands from his nose. The other two were old hags, with
eyes like red stones and clawed hands like a vulture. After a few
minutes, a banging noise started in the bushes. It was Coyote's
friends.

"What's that horrible noise?" cried the fat ugly Fire Being. "Who's
there?" The three of them went to investigate.

Seeing his chance, Coyote snatched up a glowing piece of fire and ran
off down the mountain as fast as he could. Realizing they had been
tricked, the two hags screamed and chased after him. The big fat bald
Fire Being just stood there, with more snot dripping from his nose.

The hags were old, but they could run like the wind. They nearly
caught Coyote. One of them stretched out her claws and touched the
tip of his tail. The heat turned the hairs white. Coyote threw the fire
into the air towards Squirrel. She caught it in her tail and scampered
off over stumps and boulders. The fire scorched her so badly, that her
tail curled up over her back. She was almost caught, until Chipmunk
bounded up beside her.

"Me! Me! Throw it to me!" Catching the fire, Chipmunk turned to run.
One of the hags clawed her back leaving three stripes down it.
Chipmunk threw the fire to Frog, but one of the Beings grabbed his
tail.

"Let me go!" yelled Frog. He squirmed and struggled so much that his
eyeballs bulged and he thought his heart would burst. With one last
mighty leap he tore himself free, leaving his beautiful long tail behind,
still wriggling in the hag's claw.

Frog threw the fire to Wood and Wood swallowed it. The Fire Beings
hit Wood and kicked him and cut him with their knives, but still Wood
didn't spit out the fire.

At last the hags gave up and went home, mumbling to themselves:


"Oh dear, I think I broke a nail". "Never mind. We'll have frog's tail
soup tonight." "Mmm! That sounds nice".
Coyote called all the animals together to teach them how to get the
fire from Wood.

"Fire is a gift for everyone. If you rub two dry sticks of Wood together
very fast Wood will get itchy and give you some fire. From now on
you will be warm in winter".

"I told you Coyote was cunning" said Frog.

"Yes, but I wonder what frog's tail soup tastes like?" asked Squirrel.

And that is why today, Coyote's tail has a white tip, squirrel's tail
curls around over her back, chipmunk's coat has white stripes and
frog has no tail.

But everyone is warm in winter.

THE END
Crow Brings Daylight
An Inuit Story

A long time ago when the world was first born, it was always dark in
the north where the Inuit people lived. They thought it was dark all
over the world until an old crow told them about daylight and how he
had seen it on his long journeys. The more they heard about
daylight, the more the people wanted it.

"We could hunt further and for longer," they said. "We could see the
polar bears coming and run before they attack us." The people
begged the crow to go and bring them daylight, but he didn't want to.
"It's a long way and I'm too old to fly that far," he said. But the
people begged until he finally agreed to go.

He flapped his wings and launched into the dark sky, towards the
east. He flew for a long time until his wings were tired. He was about
to turn back when he saw the dim glow of daylight in the distance.
"At last, there is daylight," said the tired crow. As he flew towards the
dim light it became brighter and brighter until the whole sky was
bright and he could see for miles. The exhausted bird landed in a tree
near a village, wanting to rest. It was very cold.

A daughter of the chief came to the nearby river. As she dipped her
bucket in the icy water, Crow turned himself into a speck of dust and
drifted down onto her fur cloak. When she walked back to her father's
snow lodge, she carried him with her. Inside the snow lodge it was
warm and bright. The girl took off her cloak and the speck of dust
drifted towards the chief's grandson, who was playing on the lodge
floor. It floated into the child's ear and he started to cry.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" asked the chief, who was sitting
at the fire. "Tell him you want to play with a ball of daylight,"
whispered the dust. The chief wanted his favorite grandson to be
happy, and told his daughter to fetch the box of daylight balls. When
she opened it for him, he took out a small ball, wrapped a string
around it and gave it to his grandson.
The speck of dust scratched the child's ear again, making him cry.
"What's wrong, child?" asked the chief. "Tell him you want to play
outside," whispered Crow. The child did so, and the chief and his
daughter took him out into the snow. As soon as they left the snow
lodge, the speck of dust turned back into Crow again. He put out his
claws, grasped the string on the ball of daylight and flew into the sky,
heading west.

Finally he reached the land of the Inuit again and when he let go of
the string, the ball dropped to the ground and shattered into tiny
pieces. Light went into every home and the darkness left the sky. All
the people came from their houses. "We can see for miles! Look how
blue the sky is, and the mountains in the distance! We couldn't see
them before." They thanked Crow for bringing daylight to their land.

He shook his beak. "I could only carry one small ball of daylight, and
it'll need to gain its strength from time to time. So you'll only have
daylight for half the year."

The people said "But we're happy to have daylight for half the year!
Before you brought the ball to us it was dark all the time!"

And so that is why, in the land of the Inuit in the far north, it is dark
for one half of the year and light the other. The people never forgot it
was Crow who brought them the gift of daylight and they take care
never to hurt him - in case he decides to take it back.

The End
How Bear Lost His Tail
An Iroquois tale retold by Joseph Bruchac

Back in the old days, Bear had a tail that was his proudest
possession. It was long and black and glossy, and Bear used to
wave it around just so that people would look at it. Fox saw this.
Fox, as everyone knows, is a trickster and likes nothing better than fooling others. So it
was that he decided to play a trick on Bear.
It was the time of year when Hatho, the Spirit of Frost, had swept across the land,
covering the lakes with ice and pounding on the trees with his big hammer. Fox made a
hole in the ice, right near a place where Bear liked to walk. By the time Bear came by,
all around Fox, in a big circle, were big trout and fat perch. Just as Bear was about to ask
Fox what he was doing, Fox twitched his tail, which he had sticking through that hole in
the ice, and pulled out a huge trout.
“Greetings, Brother,” said Fox. “How are you this fine day?”
“Greetings,” answered Bear, looking at the big circle of fat fish. “I am well,
Brother. But what are you doing?”
“I am fishing,” answered Fox. “Would you like to try?”
“Oh, yes,” said Bear, as he started to lumber over to Fox’s fishing hole.
But Fox stopped him. “Wait, Brother,” he said. “This place will not be good. As
you can see, I have already caught all the fish. Let us make you a new fishing spot
where you can catch many big trout.”
Bear agreed, and so he followed Fox to the new place, a place where, as Fox
knew very well, the lake was too shallow to catch the winter fish, which always stay in
the deepest water when Hatho has covered their ponds. Bear watched as Fox made the
hole in the ice, already tasting the fine fish he would soon catch. “Now,” said Fox, “you
must do just as I tell you. Clear your mind of all thoughts of fish. Do not even think of a
song, or the fish will hear you. Turn your back to the hole and place your tail inside it.
Soon a fish will come and grab your tail and you can pull him out.”
“But how will I know if a fish has grabbed my tail if my back is turned?” asked
Bear.
“I will hide over here where the fish cannot see me,” said Fox. “When a fish grabs
your tail, I will shout. Then you must pull as hard as you can to catch your fish. But you
must be very patient. Do not move at all until I tell you.”
Bear nodded, “I will do exactly as you say.” He sat down next to the hole, placed
his long beautiful black tail in the icy water, and turned his back.
Fox watched for a time to make sure Bear was doing as he was told, and then,
very quietly, Fox sneaked back to his own house and went to bed. The next morning he
woke up and thought of Bear. “I wonder if he is still there,” Fox said to himself. “I’ll
just go and check.”
So Fox went back to the ice-covered pond, and what do you think he saw? He saw
what looked like a little white hill in the middle of the ice. It had snowed during the
night and covered Bear, who had fallen asleep while waiting for Fox to tell him to pull
out his tail and catch a fish. And Bear was snoring. His snores were so loud that the ice
was shaking. It was so funny that Fox rolled with laughter. But when he was through
laughing, he decided the time had come to wake up poor Bear. He crept very close to
Bear’s ear, took a deep breath, and then shouted: “Now, Bear!”
Bear woke up with a start and pulled his long tail as hard as he could. But his tail
had been caught in the ice that had frozen over during the night, and as he pulled, it
broke off – WHACK! – just like that. Bear turned around to look at the fish he had
caught and instead saw his long, lovely tail caught in the ice.
“Ohhh,” he moaned, “ohhh, Fox, I will get you for this.” But Fox, even though he
was laughing fit to kill, was still faster than Bear, and he leaped aside and was gone.
So it is that even to this day, Bears have short tails and no love at all for Fox. And
if you ever hear a Bear moaning, it is probably because he remembers the trick Fox
played on him long ago and he is mourning for his lost tail.
Extension – Uncle Remus Stories (Brer Rabbit)
• The American stories referred to as Brer Rabbit stories are
actually Ananse Stories (the wise trickster spider) that were
brought to the United States and the Caribbean by African-
American slaves. This topic also brings up questions about the
roles and identities of the people who created the stories versus
those who eventually wrote them down - Who is telling the
story? Whose story is it? What is the relationship of the writer
towards his or her characters?

UNCLE REMUS INITIATES THE LITTLE BOY


One evening recently, the lady whom Uncle Remus calls "Miss Sally" missed
her little seven-year-old. Making search for him through the house and
through the yard, she heard the sound of voices in the old man's cabin, and,
looking through the window, saw the child sitting by Uncle Remus. His head
rested against the old man's arm, and he was gazing with an expression of
the most intense interest into the rough, weather-beaten face, that beamed so
kindly upon him. This is what "Miss Sally" heard:

"Bimeby, one day, atter Brer Fox bin doin' all dat he could fer ter ketch Brer
Rabbit, en Brer Rabbit bein doin' all he could fer ter keep 'im fum it, Brer
Fox say to hisse'f dat he'd put up a game on Brer Rabbit, en he ain't mo'n
got de wuds out'n his mouf tewl Brer Rabbit came a lopin' up de big road,
lookin' des ez plump, en ez fat, en ez sassy ez a Moggin hoss in a barley-
patch.

""Hol' on dar, Brer RAbbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee.


"'I ain't got time, Ber Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, sorter mendin' his licks.
"'I wanter have some confab wid you, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee.
"'All right, Brer Fox, but you better holler fum whar you stan'. I'm monstus
full er fleas dis mawnin',' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.
"'I seed Brer B'ar yistdiddy, 'sez Brer Fox, sezee, 'en he sorter rake me over
de coals kaze you en me ain't make frens en live naberly, en I tole 'im dat I'd
see you.'
"Den Brer Rabbit scratch one year wid his off hinefoot sorter jub'usly, en
den he ups en sez, sezee:
"'All a settin', Brer Fox. Spose'n you drap roun' ter-morrer en take dinner
wid me. We ain't got no great doin's at our house, but I speck de ole 'oman
en de chilluns kin sorter scarmble roun' en git up sump'n fer ter stay yo'
stummick.'
"'I'm 'gree'ble, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee.
"'Den I'll 'pen' on you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.
"Nex' day, Mr. Rabbit an' Miss Rabbit got up soom, 'fo' day, en raided on a
gyarden like Miss Sally's out dar, en got some cabbiges, en some roas'n years,

en some sparrer-grass, en dey fix up a smashin' dinner. Bimeby one er de


little Rabbits, playin' ou t in de back-yard, come runnin' in hollerin', 'Oh,
ma! oh, ma! I seed Mr. Fox a comin'!' En den Brer Rabbit he tuck de
chilluns by der years en make um set down, en den him and Miss Rabbit
sorter dally roun' waitin' for Brer Fox. En dey keep on waitin' for Brer Fox.
En dey keep on waitin', but no Brer Fox ain't come. Atter 'while Brer Rabbit
goes to de do', easy like, en peep out, en dar, stickin' fum behime de cornder,
wuz de tip-een' er Brer Fox tail. Den Brer Rabbit shot de do' en sot down, en
put his paws behime his years en begin fer ter sing:
"'De place wharbouts you spill de grease,
Right dar you er boun' ter slide,
An' whar you fin' a bunch er ha'r,
You'll sholy fine de hide.'
"Nex' day, Brer Fox sont word by Mr. Mink, en skuze hisse'f kaze he wuz too
sick fer ter come, en he ax Brer Rabbit fer ter come en take dinner wid him,
en Brer Rabbit say he wuz 'gree'ble.
Bimeby, w'en de shadders wuz at der shortes', Brer Rabbit he sorter brush
up en sa'nter down ter Brer Fox's house, en w'en he got dar, he haer
somebody groanin', en he look in de do' an dar he see Brer Fox settin' up in a
rockin'-cheer all wrop up wid flannil, en he look mighty weak. Brer Rabbit
look all roun', he did, but he ain't see no dinner. De dish-pan wuz settin' on
de table, en close by wuz a kyarvin' knife.

"'Look like you gwintee have chicken fer dinner, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit,
sezee.
"'Yes, Brer Rabbit, deyer nice, en fresh, en tender, 'sez Brer Fox, sezee.
"Den Brer Rabbit sorter pull hiss mustarsh, en say: 'You ain't got no
calamus root, is you, Brer Fox? I done got so now dat I can't eat no chicken
'ceppin she's seasoned up wid calamus root.' En wid dat Brer Rabbit lipt out
er de do' and dodge 'mong the bushes, en sot dar watchin' for Brer Fox; en
he ain't watch long, nudder, kaze Brer Fox flung off de flannil en crope out
er de house en got whar he could cloze in on Brer Rabbit, en bimeby Brer
Rabbit holler out: 'Oh, Brer Fox! I'll des put yo' calamus root out yer on dish
yer stump. Better come git it while hit's fresh,' and wid dat Brer Rabbit
gallop off home. En Brer Fox ain't never kotch 'im yit, en w'at's mo', honey,
he ain't gwineter."

Editor's Commentary of "Uncle Remus Initiates the Little Boy"

This tale functions as an important component of the larger text, Legends of the Old
Plantation, in that it introduces the primary characters and establishes the stylistic form
of the text. Immediately, the reader is introduced to Uncle Remus, Miss Sally, and the
little boy; through the stories of Uncle Remus, we are introduced to the principal animal
characters, Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox. One important aspect of the text's narrative style is
the limited view that the reader gets of the characters. When we first are introduced to
Uncle Remus, we do not see him as a first person narrator, but rather through the eyes of
Miss Sally, whom we see through the eyes of an anonymous limited narrator. This is
important to the text because it establishes a pattern of limited insight to the minds of the
human charcters, while more detail is given to the thoughts of the animal characters.
Harris also introduces the conflict of many of the animal tales, the pursuit of Brer Rabbit
and his escape through the use of wit and cunning.

The tale also establishes the pattern in which the stories are told--by an elderly former
slave to the young grandson of his former master. It is significant the Harris' storyteller
be an elderly former slave. In this way, Uncle Remus provides a direct link to a past and
culture that is quickly slipping away. For Harris, an advocate of preserving the Southern
liteary heritage in the wake of the encroaching industrial expansion of the New South, the
decision to commit the oral slave tradition to written form was a self-conscious attempt to
solidf and preserve an endangered remnant of the old plantation culture. Moreover, the
recording of these tales by Harris through the stories of Uncle Remus was a step toward
the diversifcation of Southern literature. During the Reconstruction era, there was little
African-American writing in the national level, and still less on the regional and local
levels. Thus, the stories of Uncle Remus filled a tremendous void in acknowledging the
culture of the African-American slaves, as well as the plantation culture Harris wanted to
preserve.
THE WONDERFUL TAR BABY STORY
"Didn't the fox never catch the rabbit, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy the next
evening.

"He come mighty nigh it, honey, sho's you born--Brer Fox did. One day atter Brer
Rabbit fool 'im wid dat calamus root, Brer Fox went ter wuk en got 'im some tar,
en mix it wid some turkentime, en fix up a contrapshun w'at he call a Tar-Baby, en
he tuck dish yer Tar-Baby en he sot 'er in de big road, en den he lay off in de
bushes fer to see what de news wuz gwine ter be. En he didn't hatter wait long,
nudder, kaze bimeby here come Brer Rabbit pacin' down de road--lippity-clippity,
clippity -lippity--dez ez sassy ez a jay-bird. Brer Fox, he lay low. Brer Rabbit come
prancin' 'long twel he spy de Tar-Baby, en den he fotch up on his behime legs like
he wuz 'stonished. De Tar Baby, she sot dar, she did, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"`Mawnin'!' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee - `nice wedder dis mawnin',' sezee.

"Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox he lay low.

"`How duz yo' sym'tums seem ter segashuate?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

"Brer Fox, he wink his eye slow, en lay low, en de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin'
nuthin'.

"'How you come on, den? Is you deaf?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'Kaze if you is, I kin
holler louder,' sezee.

"Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"'You er stuck up, dat's w'at you is,' says Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'en I;m gwine ter
kyore you, dat's w'at I'm a gwine ter do,' sezee.

"Brer Fox, he sorter chuckle in his stummick, he did, but Tar-Baby ain't sayin'
nothin'.

"'I'm gwine ter larn you how ter talk ter 'spectubble folks ef hit's de las' ack,' sez
Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'Ef you don't take off dat hat en tell me howdy, I'm gwine ter
bus' you wide open,' sezee.

"Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"Brer Rabbit keep on axin' 'im, en de Tar-Baby, she keep on sayin' nothin', twel
present'y Brer Rabbit draw back wid his fis', he did, en blip he tuck 'er side er de
head. Right dar's whar he broke his merlasses jug. His fis' stuck, en he can't pull
loose. De tar hilt 'im. But Tar-Baby, she stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.
"`Ef you don't lemme loose, I'll knock you agin,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, en wid dat
he fotch 'er a wipe wid de udder han', en dat stuck. Tar-Baby, she ain'y sayin'
nuthin', en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"`Tu'n me loose, fo' I kick de natal stuffin' outen you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, but
de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'. She des hilt on, en de Brer Rabbit lose de use
er his feet in de same way. Brer Fox, he lay low. Den Brer Rabbit squall out dat ef
de Tar-Baby don't tu'n 'im loose he butt 'er cranksided. En den he butted, en his
head got stuck. Den Brer Fox, he sa'ntered fort', lookin' dez ez innercent ez
wunner yo' mammy's mockin'-birds.

"`Howdy, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. `You look sorter stuck up dis
mawnin',' sezee, en den he rolled on de groun', en laft en laft twel he couldn't laff
no mo'. `I speck you'll take dinner wid me dis time, Brer Rabbit. I done laid in
some calamus root, en I ain't gwineter take no skuse,' sez Brer Fox, sezee."

Here Uncle Remus paused, and drew a two-pound yam out of the ashes.

"Did the fox eat the rabbit?" asked the little boy to whom the story had been told.

"Dat's all de fur de tale goes," replied the old man. "He mout, an den agin he
moutent. Some say Judge B'ar come 'long en loosed 'im - some say he didn't. I hear
Miss Sally callin'. You better run 'long."
Editor's Analysis of "The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story

The story of the Tar-Baby is perhaps the best-known of the Uncle Remus tales. In a
fashion that Harris would utilize again, it begins where "Uncle Remus Initiates the Little
Boy" ended, with the ramifications of the conflict between Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox. The
story opens with Brer Fox creating the Tar-Baby as an attempt to capture Brer Rabbit
once and for all. This story is perhaps the first story in which the reader sees a dual side of
Brer Rabbit. Instead of the victimized underdog, we learn of the many "affronts" that
Brer Rabbit has committed within the animal community. We also learn of his prideful
nature when he insists that the Tar-Baby is remiss in ignoring "respectubble folks" like
himself. Essentially, this story introduces a fundamental aspect of Harris' tales--the
reader reaction to Brer Rabbit. After his depiction in "The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story", he
assumes a much more complex characterization--a characterization that makes it more
difficult for the reader to render a judgement about him. Do we applaud him for being the
underdog or do we condemn the fact that he does not triumph because of his good nature,
but rather through his trickery? In the introduction to the tales, Harris identified this
dilemma by commenting on his own mixed feelings in rooting for Brer Rabbit, while
having misgivings about his manner of escape.
In many ways, the racial characterization is as blurred as the moral characterization. If
the tale is to be read as the depiction of one race triumphing over another, who is the
victor in Tar-Baby? Contemporary literary critics, like Houston Baker, have suggested
that the trickster figure--Brer Rabbit--frequently represents the way slaves saw
themselves--getting along in a white plantation culture through subversion and cleverness.
If this is the case, then why does Brer rabbit assume a superior attitude when dealing with
the unresponsive Tar-Baby. Certainly his reaction may be attributed to pride, but Harris
may also be documenting the subtleties of race relations. Is Brer Rabbit asserting his own
superiority over one who is lower than he is one the social order? Does the silent Tar-Baby
represent the lowest tier of plantation culture--the slave who has neither the education or
the desire to assert himself in a white dominated world?
When Brer Rabbit is caught in the sticky substance of the Tar-Baby, the social
implications of the tale shift. Instead of lording his "respectubbleness" over the Tar-Baby,
Brer Rabbit is at the mercy of the Tar-Baby and its creator--Brer Fox. Is this a subtle
reminder from the slave tradition of the dangers of assuming a position of superiority in a
culture that hinges on the relationship between the dominant and the subordinate? Was
the tale intended to function as a commentary of the plantation culture? Or, were they as
Harris suggested--pithy anecdotes passed down for entertainment value?
Brer Rabbit Gets Brer Fox’s Dinner
Retold by Julius Lester

If you ain’t never heard about Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox, you might
get the idea that they are enemies. Well, that ain’t the way it is. On the other hand, they
weren’t friends either. Brer Rabbit was Brer Rabbit, which meant he couldn’t help it if
he woke up some mornings and the first thing he thought about was creating devilment.
And Brer Fox was Brer Fox. Wasn’t his fault if he woke up thinking about the same
thing. So they weren’t enemies and they weren’t friends. They were who they were.
Another way of putting it is: They ain’t who they wasn’t. Now that that’s all clear, let’s
get on with the story.
Not having anything better or worse to do one day, Brer Rabbit decided to see
what Brer Fox was up to. As he got close to Brer Fox’s house, he heard a lot of
hammering. When he got there, he saw Brer Fox on the roof nailing shingles as fast as
he could.
Well, Brer Rabbit treated work like he did his mama, and he wouldn’t hit his
mama a lick. So he looked around to see what else he could see, and there by the fence
post was Brer Fox’s dinner pail. Brer Rabbit knew there was more food in it than there
was in his stomach. That didn’t seem right. How was he going to get Brer Fox’s dinner
from where it wasn’t doing no good to where it would do a whole lot of good?
“Brer Fox, how you doing today?” Brer Rabbit called up.
“Busy. Ain’t got time to be flapping jaws with you.”
“What are you doing up there?”
“Putting on a new roof before winter come.”
“You need some help?”
“I do, but where am I going to get it at ?”
“I’m a powerful man with a hammer, Brer Fox. I’ll give you a hand.”
Brer Rabbit climbed up to roof and set to work. Pretty soon he was out-
hammering Brer Fox. He was putting roofing on like winter was on the outskirts of
town. He nailed and nailed and nailed until he ws right up to Brer Fox’s tail.
Brer Rabbit pushed the tail to one side, but, a tail being a tail, it just swished right
back.
“Don’t know how come some folks got to have such long tails,” Brer Rabbit
mumbled to himself.
He brushed the tail aside again and resumed nailing. He nailed under Brer Fox.
He nailed around Brer Fox. He nailed beside Brer Fox. He nailed and nailed until all of
a sudden Brer Fox dropped his hammer and let out a yell, “Ow! Brer Rabbit! You done
nailed my tail!”
Brer Rabbit looked at him, eyes big. “I done what? You got to be joking, Brer
Fox. Don’t be accusing me of something I ain’t done.”
Brer Fox hollered and squalled and kicked and squealed. “Have mercy, Brer
Rabbit! Unnail my tail! Unnail my tail!”
Brer Rabbit started down the ladder, shaking his head. “I must be losing my aim,
my stroke or something. Maybe my eyes is getting weak. I ain’t never nailed nobody’s
tail before. Doing something like that upsets me. Doing something like that upsets me so
much it makes me hungry.”
All the while Brer Fox is hollering and screaming and squalling.
Brer Rabbit climbed down the ladder, still muttering to himself about how getting
upset made him hungry. He opened up Brer Fox’s dinner pail and helped himself to the
fried chicken, corn and biscuits inside. When he finished, he wiped his mouth on his
coattail, belched a time or two, and went on down the road, hoping he hadn’t done no
permanent damage to Brer Fox’s long, pretty tail.

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