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Herein are 119 satirical cartoons published in Punch between 1890 and 1915 which focus on the growing threat of war in the years preceding and during the first two years of the GREAT WAR.
The cartoons are grouped into the following categories:
- The Days Preceding the War
- The Struggle
- Uncle Sam
- The Comedies of the Great Tragedy
- Women and Children First
- The New Rake’s Progress—Unser Kaiser
- The Raider
- The Unspeakable Turk
- Italia!
The cartoons encompass all the Allied nations and most of those aligned with the Central Powers. The sea war also features the antics of both navies and of course the sinking of non-military liners.
During the war the media swung into action in effect becoming an Allied propaganda machine. In addition to Punch, Dutchman Louis Raemakers was also proactive in this media. Raemakers cartoons were so effective that he and his family had to flee the Netherlands when the German High Command offered a reward for his capture.
Working in London he continued to publish his cartoons mainly in The Times and even went on a promotional tour of the USA. It was thought that his many works, which can be seen in the eBooks Raemakers Cartoons of WWI – vols. 1 & 2, was partly instrumental in changing the opinion of the American public towards involvement in the “European” war.
The effect of these cartoons on rallying public opinion before and during the Great War was incalculable and the propaganda machine continued to play a major role in the conflicts following the Great War.
Format: eBook – ePub, Kindle/Mobi, PDF
Download Link: https://folklore-fairy-tales-myths-legends-and-other-stories.stores.streetlib.com/en/various/punch-cartoons-of-the-great-war-119-great-war-cartoons-published-in-punch/
The Jackal and the Hyena – A South African Children’s Story narrated bt Baba Indaba
ISSN: 2397-9607 Issue 62
In Issue 62 of the Baba Indaba Children’s Stories, Baba Indaba narrates the South African tale of how Jackal used his deviousness to get aboard a wagon laden with fish. Seeing this Hyena tries the same trick. You’ll have to download and read the story to see what happens!
Each issue also has a “Where in the World – Look it Up” section, where young readers are challenged to look up a place on a map somewhere in the world. The place, town or city is relevant to the story, on map. HINT – use Google maps.
INCLUDES LINKS TO 8 FREE DOWNLOADS
Baba Indaba is a fictitious Zulu storyteller who narrates children’s stories from around the world. Baba Indaba translates as “Father of Stories”.
It is believed that folklore and tales are believed to have originated in India and made their way overland along the Silk and Spice routes and through Central Asia before arriving in Europe. Even so, this does not cover all folklore from all four corners of the world. Indeed folklore, legends and myths from Africa, Australia, Polynesia, and some from Asia too, are altogether quite different and seem to have originated on the whole from separate reservoirs of lore, legend and culture.
Jack Delany Chronicles 6 bookset Black Friday Special
From the pen of TERRY HAYWARD, himself a retired criminal attorney who practised law in South Africa during the apartheid years. An avid wildlife conservationist, Terry has fictionalised a number of his most notorious cases and has linked them to the blight of poaching sweeping the continent of Africa. The result is almost 2,000 pages of non-stop action, adventure, drama and mystery from crowded high-rise cities to the rural remoteness of the African bushveld.
In the latest work in the series, THE HANGING TREE, sees lawyer Jack Delaney, and his six-foot-seven Zulu sidekick Moses Dlamini (pronounced Shla-mee-nee), known as the Refrigerator, called in to investigate a kidnapping, in reality a lever to bribe the owners of a game reserve to sell. In turn, it becomes the catalyst in a host of actions and re-actions leading to unexpected alliances, coupled with violence, murder and confrontations with law – not to mention lions, elephants and crocodiles in the wild.
Terry has always been perturbed that most books that end up becoming best-sellers nowadays seem to be judged by the amount of foul language and sexual activity which can be incorporated into the story. The Jack Delaney chronicles are his contribution to writing a really good yarn without having to resort to such ruses.
There is one more book in the series still in the pipeline which Terry hopes to get to Abela Publishing within the next month or so.
10% of the Authors royalty will be donated to WILDLIFE ACT, a conservation charity in KZN (KwaZulu-Natal), South Africa.
The bookset includes (so far):
ISBN: 978-1-907256-22-6 Murder is Just the Warning
ISBN: 978-1-909302-53-2 Divorce By Murder
ISBN: 978-1-909302-68-6 Murder to Order
ISBN: 978-1-909302-74-7 Aphrodisiac
ISBN: 978-1-909302-95-2 Who Takes This Woman
ISBN: 978-1-910882-65-8 The Hanging Tree
An Excerpt from “Old Hendrik’s Tales” 13 South African Folk Tales
The little girl was full of excitement. Driving home with her mother from the “dorp,” she had seen Ou’ Jackalse himself—Mynheer Jackal—slinking across the veldt, and all the tales Old Hendrik had told her about him crowded her mind as she watched him. She could hardly contain herself now, as she stood before the old Hottentot pouring forth the story. There was only one regret in it—“He must have been in some trouble, Ou’ Ta’,” said she; “’cause all the time I watched him his tail was right down. I watched and I watched to see if it wouldn’t stick up, ’cause then I’d know he was thinking of a plan; but it never did.”
Old Hendrik smiled. “So his tail was a-hangin’ an’ a-slinkin’ ahter him, was it? An’ didn’t he look back at you over his shoulder as he went?”
“Yes, he did,” answered Annie, still more eager at finding how well Old Hendrik knew the ways and doings of Ou’ Jackalse. “I kept hoping he was thinking of fetching Ou’ Wolf to work for us, then I could tell Ou’ Wolf not to trust him any more, no matter what he said.”
Old Hendrik’s delight bubbled into a jeering shake of the head and a half laugh of derision over the subject as he repeated the name—“Ou’ Jackalse, hey! Ou’ Jackalse!”
“But you needn’t to be feared he’s a-gun’ to get Ou’ Wolf into much more trouble nowadays, Ainkye,” went on the old Hottentot. “He ain’t a-gun’ to get de best o’ so many more folks, not since he went to get even wid Young Tink Tinky, de littlest bird on de veldt. Little Missis Tinky got Ou’ Mammy Reyer, de Crane, to he’p her, an’ dat made all de difference. You seen how he slunk his tail along behind him?—well, dat’s why. He’s a-tinkin’ o’ what happened den, an’ he looked at you over his shoulder, wonderin’ all de time weder you’d heerd de tale or not. It happened dis while or two back, an’ since den he ain’t bin near so sa’cy as he used to was.”
“Oh, poor Old Jackalse!” cried the little girl, “what did happen? Do tell me, Ou’ Ta’.”
“Well,” began Old Hendrik, “if ever you sees Ou’ Jackalse tryin’ to fool Ou’ Wolf into trouble agen, you don’t ha’ to say on’y yust one ting. You’s on’y got to ask him how he likes eggs, an’ den see if he don’t turn round an fair slink off wid his tail draggin’. Dat’s where de trouble come in, he would go ahter eggs.
“You ’members me tellin’ you how Young Tink Tinky bested Ou’ Jackalse when de birds wantto choose a King for demselves? Well, Ou’ Jackalse he never forgot dat, an’ he was al’ays a-studyin’ how he’s a-gun’ to get even, but he couldn’t find de way nohow till at last he sees Missis Tinky a-sittin’ on de nest, an’ he knows by dat dere’s eggs dere. ‘Dat’s me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘Eggs is de ting I does like—an’ here’s some. Watch me teach dat Young Tinky dis time.’
“Now dere was a t’orn-tree like dis,”—here Old Hendrik indicated the mimosa under which he sat,—“an’ dis t’orn-tree was a-growin close beside de river, an’ a willow-tree dat was bigger yet was a-hangin’ over de t’orn. In dat t’orn-tree Young Tinky build his nest, an ahter de eggs is all laid, an’ his missis is well an’ comfy settled into sittin’ on ’em, Young Tink he offs to look for scoff for hisse’f an’ de missis. Den’s de time when Ou’ Jackalse is a-watchin’ him, an’ as soon as he’s gone, here comes Jackalse to de bottom o’ de t’orn-tree an’ begins to scratch on de bark—scratch! scratch! scratch!
“Little Missis Tinky she look down out o de nest. ‘Who’s dere?’ ses she.
“‘Me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.
“‘What you want?’ ses Missis Tinky, all in a tremble.
“‘Want dem eggs you got,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, wid his hair up. ‘You better be sharp about it too.’
“‘Well, you ain’t a-gun’ to get ’em,’ flutter Missis Tinky; but she’s yust dat frighten’ she cahnt har’ly speak.
“‘Please yourse’f,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse; ‘but if you don’t drop me down a egg dis minute, den I’s a-comin’ up, an’ if I once does come up dere, den I’s a-gun’ to eat you first as well as de eggs. Make a hurry now—drop one!’
“Little missis she get sich a scrik when Ou’ Jackalse ses he’s a-comin’ up dat she yust go all a-flitty flutty, an’ dere ain’t no two ways about it, she hatto drop him one egg to save de rest. So out she pull it an down she drop it, right into Ou’ Jackalse mouf, where he stand on his back legs wid his front feets agen de tree. An’ as soon as he feel it in his mouf he yust gullup it down, an’ off he go for dat day. ‘I’ll make dis ting last a bit,’ ses he to hisse’f.
“Well, little Missis Tinky she’s in dat terr’ble way she cahnt har’ly sit still till Young Tinky comes home, an’ as soon’s ever she sees him she burst out a-cryin’ an’ a-tellin’ him what happened.
“‘What! An’ you b’lieve sich a fool tale as dat about him climbin’ de tree,’ ses Young Tinky, fair fightin’ mad at de way he lose dat egg. ‘He cahnt climb dis tree, not if he break his neck a-tryin’.’
“But Young Tinky he sees it ain’t no use; it ain’t a-gun’ to he’p his missis for him to shout an’ talk about it. ‘Never you mind dis time, little missis,’ ses he. ‘To-morrow you can go an’ look for de scoff, an’ I stay at home an’ wait for Ou’ Jackalse. I’ll show him what’s what dis time, too,’ ses he. An’ his missis she stop cryin’, dough she cahnt stop lookin’ where dat one egg ought to be.
“Well, de nex’ day Young Tinky he stop at home an’ sit on de nest while his missis went for scoff, an’ it ain’t but a while or two ’fore along comes Ou’ Jackalse to de foot o’ de tree-scratch! scratch! scratch!
“Young Tinky he ain’t a-lettin’ Ou’ Jackalse see who’s at home to-day; he yust on’y slant half o’ one eye down at him. ‘Who’s dere?’ ses he.
“‘Me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.
“‘An’ what you want scratchin’ dere?’ ses Tinky.
“‘Anoder egg, an’ you best be sharp about it,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.
“‘Well, you’s yust about got all de eggs you’s a-gun’ to get here,’ ses Tinky, stickin’ all his head an’ shoulders out for Jackalse to have a good look at him.
“‘Oh, it’s you, is it?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, showin’ his teef. ‘Well, if you won’t drop darie egg down in one minute, den I’s a-comin’ up an’ eat you all up—bones, beak an’ feders!’
“‘Come up den,’ ses Young Tinky, hoppin’ out onto a branch. ‘Yust you come up here if you darse, you hairy skellum you,’ squeak Tinky, hoppin’ up an’ down an’ flickin’ his wings like he’s fair a-gun’ to peck de eyes out o’ de hull fam’ly o’ de Jackalses. ‘You try it on, Mister Ou’ Jackalse, an’ see what I’s do to you!’ an’ Tinky swells hisse’f into a reg’lar ole rage as he tink o’ dat egg yestiday an’ his little missis frighten’ to deaf nearly.
“Dat make Ou’ Jackalse in sich a wax dat he spurt out de word he didn’t mean to. ‘I on’y wish I could yust come up dis tree to you. I’d scoff you down in yust one gullup an’ your eggses ahter you,’ ses he, a-rampin’ an’ a-tearin’.
“‘You ses dat,’ squeak young Tinky, ‘but I knows better. It’s not you cahnt—it’s you dahnt. But I’ll teach you to frighten poor little mammickies into givin’ you deir eggses, you skellum! skellum! skellum!’
“Ou’ Jackalse he get dat mad, a-snappin’ an’ a-snarlin’ while he listen, dat he fair turn away an’ slant out o’ dat, an’ Young Tinky is yust dat conceited of hisse’f he cahnt har’ly wait till his missis comes home ’fore he begin a-tellin’ her dat’s de way she ought to done yestiday. An’ Missis Tink she listen an’ she tink she’ll do de same herse’f now, if ever Ou’ Jackalse trouble her agen.
“So de nex’ day Young Tinky he go ahter de scoff, an’ his missis she sit on de eggs, tinkin’ it’s all right now. But Ou’ Jackalse he’d bin a-watchin’, an’ he know’s who’s a-gone an who’s a-stop at home, an in about no time he’s at de foot o’ darie t’orn-tree agen, an’ de same ole scratch! scratch! scratch! at it.
“Little Missis Tink she stick her head out an’ she start to tell him to get out o’ dat, in de biggest voice she’s got. But she hadn’t more dan got out de first two words dan she see his teef where he bare ’em all round, white an’ yammerin’, an’ he look dat savage an’ murderin’ dat de rest o’ de words stuck fast in her froat, an’ she fair chattered wid fright.
“‘Down wi’ darie egg, else I’ll come an’ tear you into smitchies,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.
“Missis Tinky nearly drop out o’ de nest wid de scrik she got; but she tink o’ what Tink Tinky say, an’ she squeak it out. ‘You cahnt come up dis tree if you try,’ ses she.
“‘Cahnt I?’ ses he, all hair an’ spiky. ‘Yust see me half try!’ an’ he gives de biggest yump he ever make in his life, an’ it scrape him a couple o’ yards up de tree stem.
“Little missis she fair gi’en one big squawk an’ tink she’s all gone—eggs, nest, an’ all. ‘Is you a-gun’ to drop me dat egg?’ shouts Ou’ Jackalse.
“‘Yes, yes. Here it is! Take it, take it!’ squeak de little missis, an’ she drop out de one egg to him.
“Ou’ Jackalse he ketch dat egg an’ he gulp it down an’ off he go agen. ‘Nex’ time I come you better drop one quicker. I ain’t a-gun’ to ax twice no more,’ ses he.
“Well, as soon as he go, little Missis Tinky she cry like her heart break, an’ she cahnt sit dere on de dest at all. Anyhow she’s feared to wait till Young Tinky comes home, ’cause she don’t know what he’ll say when he finds anoder egg gone, an’ she’s in dat misery dat she don’t know what to do. Den she tink of her Aunt, Ou’ Reyer, de Blue Crane, an’ she fly off to her where she’s a-fis’in’ in de reeds, an’ she yust up an’ tell her de hull tale of it.
“‘So darie Ou’ Jackalse’s up to his tricks agen, is he?’ ses Ou’ Reyer. ‘Well, he’s meddle wid de birds before, an’ dis time we’ll teach him to don’t do it no more. Now you yust go home an’ sit on de nest agen, an’ I’ll come in a minute or two—den well be ready for him.’
“Little missis she go back, an’ in a minute or two Ou’ Reyer follows, an’ she hide herse’f in de top o’ de willow-tree over de nest. ‘Now for Ou’ Jackalse,’ ses she.
“Well, it ain’t but a little while rill here come Ou’ Jackalse agen, wid de same ole scratch! scratch! scratch! an’ de same ole terr’fyin’ words—‘Drop me down anoder egg or I’ll come up an’ eat you,’ ses he.
“‘Make like you’s a-gun’ to drop him one,’ whispers Ou’ Reyer; an’ little Missis Tinky she make like she’s a-doin’ it.
“Ou’ Jackalse he rise up on his hine legs, an’ he put his paws agen de tree, an’ he open his mouf an’ shut his eyes, an’ he fair feel de taste o’ dat egg a’ready. An’ den, yust den, Ou’ Reyer she lean out over Missis Tinky an’ she open her big long beak, an’, swock! she drop a great big bull-frog right into Ou’ Jackalse’s froat.
And she dropped one right into Jackal’s throat
“Wow! but dere was a chokin’ an’ a squeal-in’ den. Ou’ Jackalse he yump an’ he roll, an’ he fling hisse’f along de ground a-tryin’ to cough up darie fat bull-frog, an’ darie ou’ bull-frog he puff an’ he wiggle an’ he slip down an’ down till dere he is in Ou’ Jackalse’s tummy, a-hoppin’ an’ a-floppin’ an’ a-croakin’ an’ a-gloakin’ till Ou’ Jackalse is yust dat scared dat he light out f’m dere plump across de scenery. An’ he go dat fast he yust hit de high places as he went an’ never touch’ de low. I tell you Ou’ Jackalse was scared.
ISBN: 9781909302150
As Retold By Arthur Owen Vaughan
Illustrated By J.A. Shepherd
URL http://abelapublishing.com/old-hendiks-tales–13-south-african-folk-tales_p27279516.htm
Old Hendrik’s Tales cover
THIS eStory is FREE – so FEEL FREE to Love it, Save it and Share it with your Friends and Family
The cry of “STOP THE WAR” is not new. It was happening as far back as 1900…..
1886 – gold had been discovered in South Africa and the dominant nation on earth wanted it! Sound familiar…..?
The Boer War (1899 – 1902) was but a dress-rehearsal for WWI – when forces from across the world were mobilised to ensure that a precious commodity “stayed in the right hands”.
But just as soldiers who have fought in Iraq and Afghanistan have written poetry about the conflict, so too did soldiers who fought in the Boer War. This volume contains 26 poems about the conflict, the men and the leaders from both sides.
Download your free copy at http://abelapublishing.com/boer-war-lyrics–a-free-ebook_p26851983.htm
Today we start a 6 week mini-series of folklore and stories from Africa.
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HUNGER and want forced Monkey one day to forsake his land and to seek elsewhere among strangers for much-needed work. Bulbs, earth beans, scorpions, insects, and such things were completely exhausted in his own land. But fortunately he received, for the time being, shelter with a great uncle of his, Orang Outang, who lived in another part of the country.
When he had worked for quite a while he wanted to return home, and as recompense his great uncle gave him a fiddle and a bow and arrow and told him that with the bow and arrow he could hit and kill anything he desired, and with the fiddle he could force anything to dance.
The first he met upon his return to his own land was (Brer) Hyena. This old fellow told him all the news and also that he had since early morning been attempting to stalk a deer, but all in vain.
Then Monkey laid before him all the wonders of the bow and arrow that he carried on his back and assured him if he could but see the deer he would bring it down for him. When Hyena showed him the deer, Monkey was ready and down fell the deer.
They made a good meal together, but instead of Hyena being thankful, jealousy overmastered him and he begged for the bow and arrow. When Monkey refused to give it to him, he thereupon began to threaten him with his greater strength, and so when Jackal passed by, Hyena told him that Monkey had stolen his bow and arrow. After Jackal had heard both of them, he declared himself unqualified to settle the case alone, and he proposed that they bring the matter to the court of Lion, Leopard, and the other animals. In the meantime he declared he would take possession of what had been the cause of their quarrel, so that it would be safe, as he said. But he immediately brought to earth all that was eatable, so there was a long time of slaughter before Monkey and Hyena agreed to have the affair in court.
Monkey’s evidence was weak, and to make it worse, Jackal’s testimony was against him. Jackal thought that in this way it would be easier to obtain the bow and arrow from Hyena for himself.
And so fell the sentence against Monkey. Theft was looked upon as a great wrong; he must hang.
The fiddle was still at his side, and he received as a last favour from the court the right to play a tune on it.
He was a master player of his time, and in addition to this came the wonderful power of his charmed fiddle. Thus, when he struck the first note of “Cockcrow” upon it, the court began at once to show an unusual and spontaneous liveliness, and before he came to the first waltzing turn of the old tune the whole court was dancing like a whirlwind.
Over and over, quicker and quicker, sounded the tune of “Cockcrow” on the charmed fiddle, until some of the dancers, exhausted, fell down, although still keeping their feet in motion. But Monkey, musician as he was, heard and saw nothing of what had happened around him. With his head
placed lovingly against the instrument, and his eyes half closed, he played on, keeping time ever with his foot.
Hyena was the first to cry out in pleading tones breathlessly, “Please stop, Cousin Monkey! For love’s sake, please stop!”
But Monkey did not even hear him. Over and over sounded the resistless waltz of “Cockcrow.”
After a while Lion showed signs of fatigue, and when he had gone the round once more with his young lion wife, he growled as he passed Monkey, “My whole kingdom is yours, ape, if you just stop playing.”
“I do not want it,” answered Monkey, “but withdraw the sentence and give me my bow and arrow, and you, Hyena, acknowledge that you stole it from me.”
“I acknowledge, I acknowledge!” cried Hyena, while Lion cried, at the same instant, that he withdrew the sentence.
Monkey gave them just a few more turns of the “Cockcrow,” gathered up his bow and arrow, and seated himself high up in the nearest camel thorn tree.
The court and other animals were so afraid that he might begin again that they hastily disbanded to new parts of the world.
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From: South African Folktales
ISBN: 978-0-956058-45-4
URL: http://www.abelapublishing.com/south-african-folk-tales_p23332659.htm
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INCREASE YOUR INCOME!
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Are you looking for work or wanting to earn that bit extra to make ends meet?
Sell the Folklore, Fairy Tales, Myths and Legends from the Abela Catalogue and earn yourself 10% of the RRP for every Abela book sold.
Use a captive audience – arrange to read these free stories weekly at local primary schools letting all know that these stories are old, forgotten and out of print Folklore, Fairy Tales, Myths and Legends from the Abela Catalogue and are for sale.
Titles are being are added all the time!
Contact John Halsted at books@abelapublishing.com
for more details.
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PASS IT ON
We have made these stories freely available to you and we ask you to please make these booklets freely available friends, parents, teachers and storytellers whom you may know. So, pass them on!
Today we remain in Southern Africa for the story of TINK-TINKJE which is pronounced Tink-Tinkie.
THE birds wanted a king. Men have a king, so have animals, and why shouldn’t they? All had assembled.
“The Ostrich, because he is the largest,” one called out.
“No, he can’t fly.”
“Eagle, on account of his strength.”
“Not he, he is too ugly.”
“Vulture, because he can fly the highest.”
“No, Vulture is too dirty, his odor is terrible.”
“Peacock, he is so beautiful.”
“His feet are too ugly, and also his voice.”
“Owl, because he can see well.”
“Not Owl, he is ashamed of the light.”
And so they got no further. Then one shouted aloud, “He who can fly the highest will be king.” “Yes, yes,” they all screamed, and at a given Signal they all ascended straight up into the sky.
Vulture flew for three whole days without stopping, straight toward the sun. Then he cried aloud, “I am the highest, I am king.”
“T-sie, t-sie, t-sie,” he heard above him. There Tink-tinkje was flying. He had held fast to one of the great wing feathers of Vulture, and had never been felt, he was so light. “T-sie, t-sie, t-sle, I am the highest, I am king,” piped Tink-tinkje.
Vulture flew for another day still ascending. “I am highest, I am king.”
“T-sie, t-sie, t-sie, I am the highest, I am king,” Tink-tinkje mocked. There he was again, having crept out from under the wing of Vulture.
Vulture flew on the fifth day straight up in the air. “I am the highest, I am king,” he called.
“T-sie, t-sie, t-sie,” piped the little fellow above him. “I am the highest, I am king.”
Vulture was tired and now flew direct to earth. The other birds were mad through and through. Tink-tinkje must die because he had taken advantage of Vulture’s feathers and there hidden himself. All flew after him and he had to take refuge in a mouse hole. But how were they to get him out? Some one must stand guard to seize him the moment he put out his head.
“Owl must keep guard; he has the largest eyes; he can see well,” they exclaimed.
Owl went and took up his position before the hole. The sun was warm and soon Owl became sleepy and presently he was fast asleep.
Tink-tinkje peeped, saw that Owl was asleep, and zip-zip away he went. Shortly afterwards the other birds came to see if Tink-tinkje were still in the hole. “T-sie, t-sie,” they heard in a tree; and there the little vagabond was sitting.
White-crow, perfectly disgusted, turned around and exclaimed, “Now I won’t say a single word more.” And from that day to this Whitecrow has never spoken. Even though you strike him, he makes no sound, he utters no cry.
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From South African Folk Tales collected by James Honey
ISBN: 978-0-956058-45-4
http://www.abelapublishing.com/page459.html
Before we start today’s tale which hails from the San Bushman of the Kalahari, in the Cape region of South Africa, it is important to bring some extra pronunciation marks to your attention. These are necessary because of the nature of the Hottentot/Bushman language which contains many tongue clicks. These are as follows:
| indicates the dental click.
! cerebral click.
|| lateral click.
# palatal click.
@ labial click.
X an aspirated guttural, like German ch.
Y a strong croaking sonud in the throat.
U a gentle croaking sound in the throat.
~ the nasal pronunciation of a syllable.
= under vowels, indicates a, rough, deep pronunciation of them.
= indicates that the syllable under which it stands has a musical intonation.
` indicates an arrest of breath (as in tt’uara)
o placed under a letter, indicates a very short pronunciation of it.
– under a vowel, indicates a more or less open pronunciation of it.
ng indicates a ringing pronunciation of the n, as in “song” in English.
r placed over n indicates that the pronunciation is between that of the two consonants. There is also occasionally a consonantal sound met with in Bushman between r, n, and l.
THE GIRL OF THE EARLY RACE, WHO MADE STARS 1 – A Folk Tale from the San Bushmen of the Kalahari
My mother was the one who told me that the girl arose; she put her hands into the wood ashes; she threw up the wood ashes into the sky. She said to the wood ashes: “The wood ashes which are here, they must altogether become the Milky Way. They must white lie along in the sky, that the stars may stand outside of the Milky Way, while the Milky Way is the Milky Way, while it used to be wood ashes.” They (the ashes) altogether become the Milky Way. The Milky Way must go round with the stars; while the Milky Way feels that, the Milky Way lies going round; while the stars sail along; therefore, the Milky Way, lying, goes along with the stars. The Milky Way, when the Milky Way stands upon the earth, the Milky Way turns across in front, while the Milky Way means to wait(?), While the Milky Way feels that the Stars are turning back; while the Stars feel that the Sun is the one who has turned back; he is upon his path; the Stars turn back; while they go to fetch the daybreak; that they may lie nicely, while the Milky Way lies nicely. The Stars shall also stand nicely around.
They shall sail along upon their footprints, which they, always sailing along, are following. While they feel that, they are the Stars which descend.
The Milky Way lying comes to its place, to which the girl threw up the wood ashes, that it may descend nicely; it had lying gone along, while it felt that it lay upon the sky. It had lying gone round, while it felt that the Stars also turned round. They turning round passed over the sky. The sky lies (still); the Stars are those which go along; while they feel that they sail. They had been setting; they had, again, been coming out; they had, sailing along, been following their footprints. They become white, when the Sun comes out. The Sun sets, they stand around above; while they feel that they did turning follow the Sun.
The darkness comes out; they (the Stars) wax red, while they had at first been white. They feel that they stand brightly around; that they may sail along; while they feel that it is night. Then, the people go by night; while they feel that the ground is made light. While they feel that the Stars shine a little. Darkness is upon the ground. The Milky Way gently glows; while it feels that it is wood ashes. Therefore, it gently glows. While it feels that the girl was the one who said that the Milky Way should give a little light for the people, that they might return home by night, in the middle of the night. For, the earth would not have been a little light, had not the Milky Way been there. It and the Stars.
The girl thought that she would throw up (into the air) roots of the !huing, in order that the !huing roots should become Stars; therefore, the Stars are red; while they feel that (they) are !huing roots. 2
She first gently threw up wood ashes into the sky, that she might presently throw up !huing roots; while she felt that she was angry with her mother, because her mother had not given her many !huing roots, that she might eat abundantly; for, she was in the hut. She did not herself go out to seek food; that she might get(?) !huing for herself; that she might be bringing it (home) for herself; that she might eat; for, she was hungry; while she lay ill in the hut. Her mothers were those who went out. They were those who sought for food. They were ‘bringing home !huing, that they might eat. She lay in her little hut 3, which her mother had made for her. Her stick stood there; because she did not yet dig out food. And, she was still in the hut. Her mother was the one who was bringing her food. That she might be eating, lying in the little hut; while her mother thought that she (the girl) did not eat the young men’s game (ie. game killed by them). For, she ate the game of her father, who was an old man. While she thought that the hands of the young men would become cool. Then, the arrow would become cool. The arrow head which is at the top, it would be cold; while the arrow head felt that the bow was cold; while the bow felt that his (the young man’s) hands were cold. While the girl thought of her saliva, which, eating, she had put into the springbok meat; this saliva would go into the bow, the inside of the bow would become cool; she, in this manner, thought. Therefore, she feared the young men’s game. Her father was the one from whom she alone ate (game). While she felt that she had worked (i.e. treated) her father’s hands: she had worked, taking away her saliva (from them).
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Footnotes
1 This girl is said to have been one of the people of the early race (!Xwe-|na-ssho-!ke) and the ‘first’ girl; and to have acted ill. She was finally shot by her husband. These !Xwe-|na-ssho-!ke are said to have been stupid, and not to have understood things well.
2 She threw up a scented root (eaten by some Bushmen) called !huing, which became stars; the red (or old) !huing making red stars, the white or young !huing making white stars. This root is, ||kabbo says, eaten by baboons and also by the porcupine. The same girl also made locusts, by throwing up into the sky the peel of the !kuissi [an edible root] which she was eating.
3||kabbo here explained that, when a girl has ‘grown’, she is put into a tiny hut, made by her mother, with a very small arpeture for the door; which her mother closes upon her. When she goes out, she looks upon the ground; and when she returns to the hut, she sits and looks down. She does not go far, or walk about at this time. When presently she becomes a, a, ‘big girl’, she is allowed to look about, and to look afar again; being, on the first occasion, allowed to look afar over her mother’s hand. She leaves the small hut, when allowed to look about and around again; and she then walks about like the other women. During the time she is in retreat, she must not look at the springbok, lest they should become wild.]
From SPECIMENS of BUSHMAN FOLKLORE COLLECTED BY THE LATE W. H. I. BLEEK and L. C. LLOYD
ISBN-13: 978-1-907256-13-4
URL: http://www.abelapublishing.com/cg_sobf.html
Folklore and Fairytales - Free Stories for Children 