16 14. The Punishment of the Turtle

[From African Jungle Tales by Carl Bender, 1919. See item #27 in the Bibliography.]

A great and wonderful tree, laden with luscious fruit, stood in a clearing in the jungle. In its shadow all the animals from far and near had assembled. As they beheld the beautiful and tempting fruit, the very sight of it made their mouths water. “To eat of it must be a real treat,” they thought.

“Let us send a messenger to the King and ask his permission,” said the Giraffe, who had, secretly, tasted the fruit. The suggestion of the Giraffe was received with applause and, after a somewhat lengthy deliberation as to who should go, the Rabbit was commissioned to bring their petition before the King.

The Rabbit, on arriving at the King’s court, was most graciously received. The King, on hearing the petition, said to the Rabbit, “Go back and tell my subjects that they are free to eat of the fruit, but the choicest and sweetest they must not touch, for that belongs to me!”

The Rabbit, after hearing this gladsome message, hurried off, all the while repeating to himself the words of the King, “Tell my subjects that they may eat of the fruit, only not of the choicest and best, for that belongs to me!”

As he hurried on, heedless of obstacles in the way, he ran against a stone, turned a summersault in the air, and landed on his back. It all had come so unexpected and sudden that he forgot to repeat the King’s message and, when he got on his feet again, it had entirely slipped his mind.

On hearing what had happened, the animals immediately dispatched another messenger — this time the Goat. When the Goat arrived at the King’s court and delivered his message, he was given the same answer as the Rabbit before him: “Go and tell my subjects that they are free to eat of the fruit, only not of the choicest and best, for that belongs to me!”

On hearing the message, the Goat, fleet-footed as he was, hurried off, all the while repeating to himself the words of the King, “Go and tell my subjects that they are free to eat of the fruit, only not of the choicest and best, for that belongs to me!”

As he sped along, heedless of obstacles in the way, he suddenly, and with the full weight of his body, ran against a boulder and tumbled head over heels into a ditch. When, after a while, he came to himself and got on his feet again, the King’s message had entirely slipped his mind.

Again the animals sent a messenger to the King — this time the wise and circumspect Turtle. Slow but sure, the Turtle wended his way toward the King’s court. When at last he stood before the King and made known his request, he too received exactly the same answer as the Goat and the Rabbit before him. Ceremoniously the Turtle bowed himself out of the King’s presence and started for home.

Slowly as he had come, he made his way back, all the while repeating to himself the words of the King, “Go and tell my subjects that they are free to eat of the fruit, only not of the choicest and best, for that belongs to me!”

As he went on, he was so wrapped in thought and taken up with the King’s message that he failed to notice a log in the way. He walked straight into it and, from the force of the shock, fell flat on his back. But he had presence of mind enough to continue repeating the words of the King. After many futile efforts, he also succeeded in righting himself and getting on his paddles again. Unable to climb over the log, he walked around it and passed on. In due time he arrived at the tree, where the animals were impatiently waiting for his return.

When at last they saw the Turtle coming along, they knew at once by the triumphant look in his face that he was the bearer of good news. And so it proved to be: “We may eat of the fruit,” cried the Turtle, “only not of the choicest and best, for that belongs to the King.”

At these words a storm of applause rent the air. “Up and let us climb the tree!” they all cried. “Come on, Turtle! You too climb the tree! You must not fail to get your share after bringing such good news! Tuck yourself up and get busy!”

“How can I climb the tree?” said the Turtle. “I am too small. I can’t even think of such an attempt, handicapped as I am.” And he sat down and looked on while the others climbed the tree and helped themselves to the fruit. They all had a jolly good time and ate to their heart’s content.

During all this time, the Turtle was sitting in the grass below, harboring all kinds of evil thoughts. He was brooding over plans that would enable him to get some of the King’s fruit without being caught.

At sunset the animals came down. They were all very tired, so they stretched themselves out in the grass and soon were fast asleep. At last the Turtle’s opportunity had come! He was just aching to get some of the King’s fruit. Stealthily he approached the tree, climbed it without any difficulty whatever, and helped himself to the King’s fruit.

When he was well satisfied, he cautiously slipped to the ground. Some of the fruit which he had taken along down he placed by the side of the sleeping Elephant. In this way he hoped to deceive the other animals and cover up his guilt.

Just as the first rays of the morning sun appeared on the horizon, the animals awoke, rubbed their eyes, and stretched their limbs. Then they went to the river to bathe. On coming back, they chanced to look at the tree and noticed, to their horror, that the King’s fruit had disappeared during the night.

“Oh, what shall we do?!” they exclaimed. “This thing will surely bring the wrath of the King and well merited punishment upon us! Who in all the world could have done this?”

When they saw the Turtle sitting nearby, they cried with one accord, “Turtle, you are the sinner!”

“I?” said the Turtle. “The insinuation! I can’t even climb a tree, and you all know it! If you have eyes to see, then just have a look at the Elephant and the fruit by his side! It also explains why he preferred to stay here when the rest of you went to the river!” Thus lied the Turtle.

Not taking time to consider and believing the Elephant guilty, the animals got so enraged that, without further thought, they rushed upon the Elephant and killed him. In this wise, the innocent and good-natured fellow paid with his life for the guilt of the Turtle. His body they cut up, and they divided the meat between them. The Turtle, in recognition of his services, was given one of the haunches. Then they formed a procession and started for home.

On the way, the Turtle, puffed up with pride and in a mocking way, began to sing:

Meat have I, more than I can eat!
By cunning I have beaten all;
The giant I have caused to fall
And to the monster brought defeat.

“Say, Turtle, what kind of a song is this you are singing?” the animals asked.

“I am only singing about myself,” answered the Turtle, and he commenced to sing again.

Woe is me, my back is bent,
Because my burden is too great;
The haunch which you upon me laid
Will surely hasten on my end
Unless you quickly lend me aid.

“Poor Turtle!” the animals exclaimed. “You will surely break down under your load. We will relieve you of your burden. Come, let us take off the haunch and give you a shoulder instead!” So they took off the haunch from his back, gave him one of the shoulders, and passed on again.

They had not gone very far when the Turtle sang again:

Meat have I, more than I can eat!
By cunning I have beaten all;
The giant I have caused to fall
And to the monster brought defeat.

“Listen, the Turtle is singing again!” said the Leopard.

“Say, Turtle, what are you singing this time?” the animals asked.

“What am I singing? I have but one song to sing, as you all know. It is this,” and the Turtle sang:

Woe is me, my back is bent,
Because my burden is too great;
The shoulder you upon me laid
Will surely hasten on my end
Unless you quickly lend me aid.

“Let him carry the liver!” one of the animals cried. So they took the shoulder off his back and gave him the liver.

They had hardly started again when, for the third time, they heard the song of the Turtle. This time they understood. “Stop!” they all cried. “This time we have you! You are the culprit, and not the Elephant, whom you have killed by your cunning and deceit. Poor Elephant! What a pity that the good and honest fellow became the victim of the crafty Turtle! But do not deceive yourself, Turtle! Just and well merited punishment will be meted out to you in due time!”

Not long after this had happened, a big feast was proclaimed which was to come off at a certain time and place, and they started to go there in a body. They had almost reached their destination when they came to a high bridge — a giant cotton tree which lay across the stream. On the other side of the stream was a big hill, on the top of which they were to offer sacrifices and have their feast.

The long and tedious journey through the jungle had wearied them, and so they decided to rest a bit before crossing. When at last they had reached the top of the hill, a fattened bullock was killed and preparations were made for the feast.

A chilly breeze swept over the hill-top. This was very annoying to some of the animals, and so it was decided by a majority vote to have the feast in the valley below. The meat of the bullock they apportioned in loads and carried down on their heads and shoulders. The intestines — which, together with the stomach, were considered as rarebits — they carefully wrapped up by themselves in the hide of the bullock. The Turtle was to remain at the top of the hill where he would be subject to torture by evil spirits and demons. This was to be the punishment for all his wickedness and deceit.

But once more the Turtle outwitted them all! Being fully aware of their designs, he managed, unnoticed by anyone, to crawl into the empty stomach of the bullock before the bundle was tied and carried down the hill.

After the animals had reached the valley below, they laid down their loads and prepared for the feast. A great surprise awaited them — for when they opened the load that contained the stomach of the bullock, the Turtle crawled out.

Thereupon, the animals expelled the Turtle from their society and made him live in a desert place all by himself. Barren rocks and sandy wastes are his abode, and he is in constant danger of being trampled upon or crushed under the hoofs of the Buffaloes.