One day, the sultan said to his six sons, `I am going into the country, to see how the wheat is growing, and you shall come with me.’ They went on merrily along the road, till they came to a thicket, when out sprang the cat, and killed three of the sons.
`The cat! The cat!’ shrieked the soldiers who were with him. And this time the sultan said:
`Seek for it and kill it. It is no longer a cat, but a demon!’
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And the soldiers answered him, `Did we not tell you, master, what the cat was doing, and did you not say, “My cat and my people”?’
And he answered: `True, I said it.’
Now the youngest son had not gone with the rest, but had stayed at home with his mother; and when he heard that his brothers had been killed by the cat he said, `Let me go, that it may slay me also.’ His mother entreated him not to leave her, but he would not listen, and he took his sword and a spear and some rice cakes, and went after the cat, which by this time had run of to a great distance.
The lad spent many days hunting the cat, which now bore the name of `The Nunda, eater of people,’ but though he killed many wild animals he saw no trace of the enemy he was hunting for. There was no beast, however fierce, that he was afraid of, till at last his father and mother begged him to give up the chase after the Nunda.
But he answered: `What I have said, I cannot take back. If I am to die, then I die, but every day I must go and seek for the Nunda.’
And again his father offered him what he would, even the crown itself, but the boy would hear nothing, and went on his way.
Many times his slaves came and told him, `We have seen footprints, and to-day we shall behold the Nunda.’ But the footprints never turned out to be those of the Nunda. They wandered far through deserts and through forests, and at length came to the foot of a great hill. And something in the boy’s soul whispered that here was the end of all their seeking, and to-day they would find the Nunda.
But before they began to climb the mountain the boy ordered his slaves to cook some rice, and they rubbed the stick to make a fire, and when the fire was kindled they cooked the rice and ate it. Then they began their climb.
the PRince FinDs the Nunda
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Suddenly, when they had almost reached the top, a slave who was on in front cried:
`Master! Master!’ And the boy pushed on to where the slave stood, and the slave said:
`Cast your eyes down to the foot of the mountain.’ And the boy looked, and his soul told him it was the Nunda.
And he crept down with his spear in his hand, and then he stopped and gazed below him.
`This must be the real Nunda,’ thought he. `My mother told me its ears were small, and this one’s are small. She told me it was broad and not long, and this is broad and not long. She told me it had spots like a civet-cat, and this has spots like a civet-cat.’
Then he left the Nunda lying asleep at the foot of the mountain, and went back to his slaves.
`We will feast to-day,’ he said; `make cakes of batter, and bring water,’ and they ate and drank. And when they had finished he bade them hide the rest of the food in the thicket, that if they slew the Nunda they might return and eat and sleep before going back to the town. And the slaves did as he bade them.
It was now afternoon, and the lad said: `It is time we went after the Nunda.’ And they went till they reached the bottom and came to a great forest which lay between them and the Nunda.
Here the lad stopped, and ordered every slave that wore two cloths to cast one away and tuck up the other between his legs. `For,’ said he, `the wood is not a little one. Perhaps we may be caught by the thorns, or perhaps we may have to run before the Nunda, and the cloth might bind our legs, and cause us to fall before it.’
And they answered, `Good, master,’ and did as he bade them. Then they crawled on their hands and knees to where the Nunda lay asleep.
Noiselessly they crept along till they were quite close to it; then, at a sign from the boy, they threw their
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spears. The Nunda did not stir: the spears had done their work, but a great fear seized them all, and they ran away and climbed the mountain.
The sun was setting when they reached the top, and glad they were to take out the fruit and the cakes and the water which they had hidden away, and sit down and rest themselves. And after they had eaten and were filled, they lay down and slept till morning.
When the dawn broke they rose up and cooked more rice, and drank more water. After that they walked all round the back of the mountain to the place where they had left the Nunda, and they saw it stretched out where they had found it, stiff and dead. And they took it up and carried it back to the town, singing as they went, `He has killed the Nunda, the eater of people.’
And when his father heard the news, and that his son was come, and was bringing the Nunda with him, he felt that the man did not dwell on the earth whose joy was greater than his. And the people bowed down to the boy and gave him presents, and loved him, because he had delivered them from the bondage of fear, and had slain the Nunda
[Adapted from Swahili Tales,]
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THE STORY OF HASSEBU
ONCE upon a time there lived a poor woman who had only one child, and he was a little boy called Hassebu. When he ceased to be a baby, and his mother thought it was time for him to learn to read, she sent him to school. And, after he had done with school, he was put into a shop to learn how to make clothes, and did not learn; and he was put to do silversmith’s work, and did not learn; and whatsoever he was taught, he did not learn it. His mother never wished him to do anything he did not like, so she said: `Well, stay at home, my son.’ And he stayed at home, eating and sleeping.
One day the boy said to his mother: `What was my father’s business?’
`He was a very learned doctor,’ answered she.
`Where, then, are his books?’ asked Hassebu.
`Many days have passed, and I have thought nothing of them. But look inside and see if they are there.’ So Hassebu looked, and saw they were eaten by insects, all but one book, which he took away and read
He was sitting at home one morning poring over the medicine book, when some neighbours came by and said to his mother: `Give us this boy, that we may go together to cut wood.’ For wood-cutting was their trade, and they loaded several donkeys with the wood, and sold it in the town.
And his mother answered, `Very well; to-morrow I will buy him a donkey, and you can all go together.’
So the donkey was bought, and the neighbours came,
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and they worked hard all day, and in the evening they brought the wood back into the town, and sold it for a good sum of money. And for six days they went and did the like, but on the seventh it rained, and the wood-cutters ran and hid in the rocks, all but Hassebu, who did not mind wetting, and stayed where he was.
While he was sitting in the place where the wood-cutters had left him, he took up a stone that lay near him, and idly dropped it on the ground. It rang with a hollow sound, and he called to his companions, and said, `Come here and listen; the ground seems hollow!’
`Knock again!’ cried they. And he knocked and listened.
`Let us dig,’ said the boy. And they dug, and found a large pit like a well, filled with honey up to the brim.
`This is better than firewood,’ said they; `it will bring us more money. And as you have found it, Hassebu, it is you who must go inside and dip out the honey and give to us, and we will take it to the town and sell it, and will divide the money with you.’