Every Tongue Got to Confess: Negro Folk-Tales From the Gulf States

  —M. C. FORD.

  The Lion and the Rabbit

  De lion he lived in a rock cliff. He fooled de other varmints. Dasa way he had to git his livin’ to keep him from gwine ’bout.

  One day de rabbit he passed thata way and de lion said to him to come by and give him some water.

  Rabbit he staid way out at de openin’ and looked all round at de ground and everything. He told de lion, “I wouldn’t mind comin’ but I see dese tracks all gwine in and none comin’ out. I’m kinda in a hurry anyhow, so I guess I betta go ’long.”

  De lion sorta had a taste for rabbit dat day, so he tried to hold him dere till he could git upon him. But de rabbit wuz jist ez slick ez he wuz sly. De lion den see he couldn’t git de rabbit dat time, but he figgered he’d tole him on and lay for him; so he says: “Brer Rabbit, you mus’ come set wid me some time. I laks to talk wid yuh. You comin’ back dis way, aintcher?”

  “If I have any business back dis way, I’m sho comin’ back, but if I don’t have no business, I sho’ ain’t comin’ back. You down here ’stroyin’ all de other varmints.”

  De rabbit went booky-ty-boo, booky-ty-book on down de road all day. ’Bout sundown he come to a clearin’ where folks wuz workin’. It war a man and his ole lady and a passle of younguns. De man had a big ole shotgun. De rabbit laid low and watched him for a spell, keepin’ outa wind of de dawgs. Dey passed on from de field to de house, and de rabbit wheeled and loped back to where de lion wuz laid up.

  “Hello, Brer Rabbit, I see you come back. You come to set wid me dis time, I reckon. You know, I’m sorta po’ly. Don’t look lak I’m goin’ to mend a-tall.”

  “Naw, Brer Lion, ain’t got time to set down. I got so much business. I jist come back by to let you know I seen a place yis-tiddy where’s so many varmints, you’ll be glad to let some of ’em live.”

  “Where dat at, Brer Rabbit?”

  “Oh, ’bout a day’s journey from here.”

  “Will you keer me dere?”

  “Yeah, if you wanta go.”

  “All right, I’ll be proud to go. Youse mah best friend, Brer Rabbit. Dese here other varmints see me lay dere ’bout to starve to death and dey won’t come nigh me.”

  So he got hisself ready and followed de rabbit on off down de road, de rabbit keepin’ his eye on him all de time and keepin’ a safe distance ahead—never would let de lion git upon him close ’nough tuh harm him. Dey traveled and traveled till finally dey got to de fiel’ de rabbit seed de day before. De rabbit stopped de lion and put him in de aidge of de woods.

  “Lay down heah, now, right heah. Man be long after while.”

  “Whut is Man?” ast de lion, cause up tuh dat time he hadn’t never seed no man.

  “You’ll see,” de rabbit tole ’im.

  “I ain’t never heered tell nuh talk uh him befo’,” de lion said.

  De rabbit kept him low and dey waited till de man would knock off and start home. De sun wuz still high. Dey seen somebody comin’ down de road.

  “Whuss dat yonder comin’—dat Man?”

  “No, no, lay down, Brer Lion.”

  “But whut is it?”

  “Dass a lil boy—thass a will-be. Lay down.”

  By and by de horn blow for supper at de quarters and de man and his folks left de fiel’ and start comin’ cross a foot-log t’wards where de lion wuz hid.

  “Rabbit, whuss dat yonder?”

  “Shh-hh, dass Man.”

  A horn was hanging from his shoulder. De lion saw it and ast, “Whuss dat hangin’ down on his shoulder?”

  “Dat’s his voice.”

  “Whut’s dem all round him?”

  “Dat’s de imps dat his voice calls.”

  “Whuss dat long thing on his shoulder?”

  “Dat’s de stick he spits fire on de world wid.”

  De lion got his bristles all up and ast, “Do you know how I kin git in contack wid him?”

  “Yas,” de rabbit tole ’im, “go right down de hill and git on dat foot-log. He’s bound to cross dere.”

  De lion romps down on de foot-log soon’s he seen de man git on it. De dawgs tackled ’im, but he wuz too severe for de dawgs. De man ups wid his shotgun and cracks ’im off and blinded de lion. He wheeled and run. Man wuz too severe for him.

  Dat rabbit lit out soon’s he sont dat lion on to de foot-log. He done some fas’ traveling back up de country.

  Two or three days later de lion wundered on back to his old vicinity. De rabbit was dere all along, eatin’ up whut wuz dere. He heered de lion groanin’ on top of de hill and come out dere an’ seen ’im. De rabbit had done took de lion’s house.

  “Who dat?” ast de rabbit.

  “It’s me, Rabbit. Go way f’om me, Rabbit. I don’t want no mo’ to do wid you. You got me in all dis trouble wid Man.”

  Ev’vy since den, Man been takin’ de lions, but only de cubs; cause de ole lions is too severe to be took alive.

  —WILLIAM JONES.*

  Biddy, biddy, ben

  My story is end

  Turn loose the rooster

  And hold the hen.

  De crane wuz hongry, so he caught uh eel and et him. But you know de crane ain’t got no gizzard. He got a craw and dat’s all. Soon’s he swaller de eel he run right on through him out de other end and headed for de water. De crane seen him and caught him and swallowed him again. Right on through. De next time de crane swallowed him he backed up against a big ole tree and says, “Hot damn you! You won’t git away dis time. I got dead wood on you now.”

  —JERRY BENNETT.

  Why the Waves have White Caps*

  The sea and the air was both women. They both had children. The air tole the water: “My children is better than yours. Some flies in the air, some walks on the ground, and some swims the water. Yours can’t do nothin’ but swim.”

  The water got mad at the air for talkin’ like that because she was mother of all the birds. So next time a lot of birds come down to drink, the water caught ’em and drownded ’em. The wind knowed she left her children down by the water, so she keep passin’ over callin’ her children. Every time she call ’em, they show they white feathers to let her know where they is, but de water won’t let ’em go. When it storms, the sea and the wind is fighting about the children.

  —LILY MAY BEALE.

  [Hurston’s manuscript includes here a second—identical—version of the tale “Why De Donkey’s Ears Is Long.”]

  How Come De ’gator Hate De Dog

  God made both of ’em without a mouth, an’ de ’gator and de dog made up a plot to get each of ’em a mouth. An’ so de dog had de ’gator tuh cut his mouth first. So de dog tole de ’gator tuh stop and de ’gator stopped.

  And den de ’gator tole de dog tuh cut him uh mouth, and de dog tuk de knife and went to cuttin’ de ’gator mouth; and de ’gator says, “Hold, Brer Dog,” and de dog kept cutting right on and cut de ’gator a great big mouth.

  An’ every since den, de ’gator been mad wid de dog.

  —CHRISTOPHER JENKINS.

  Why De ’Gator Got No Tongue

  One time all de varmints wuz going tuh have uh big frolic, but they didn’t have no band; so de committee went round seeing who would help out wid de music. De dawg said he’d lend his horn—dat’s whut he plays; an’ de frog said he’d lend his accordion; an’ den Brer Dawg went tuh de ’gator tuh see if he would lend his tongue fur uh bass drum. De ’gator lent it tuh ’em an’ de dawg—he wuz de head uh de committee—took it on down intuh de piney woods, an’ they frolicked all night long and played de drum an’ danced till they wore out Brer ’Gator’s tongue; den de dawg wuz shame tuh face de ’gator.

  That’s how come de ’gator been mad wid de dawg ever since an’ he eats all de dawgs he kin ketch, tryin’ tuh find his tongue.

  —WILLIE MAY MCCLARY.

  [Hurston’s manuscript includes here a nearly identical version of “Why the Gator is Black,” attributed to Willie May McClary.]

  De Rabbit Wants
Uh Tail

  De rabbit saw de long bushy tail de squirrel got and he wanted one, too; so one day he says, “Squirrel, how did you git yo’ long tail? Ah sho would be proud tuh own one lak dat.”

  “Well, Ah tell yuh, Rabbit. Ah did some tricks fuh Ole Master, an’ He gimme dis tail.”

  “Well, Ah’m willin’ tuh do some, too. B’lieve Ah’ll go see ’im.”

  So he went tuh see Ole Master (God). He tole ’im, say, “Yes, you kin git uh long tail if you do some tricks for me.”

  Rabbit wuz so anxious he said, “Jus’ tell me whut you want done an’Ah’ll go do it—don’t keer whut it is.”

  “Well,” said Ole Master, “first thing Ah wants you tuh do is tuh go git me some rattlesnake teeth.”

  De rabbit didn’t know where he wuz gointuh git dem rattlesnake teeth, so he cruised round awhile schemin’. But one day he saw de rattlesnake all quirreled up an’ he said, “Brer rattler, Ah b’lieve de blacksnake is uh whole heap bigger an’ longer dan you is, sho do.”

  “Naw, he ain’t neither. You know he ain’t bigger, an’ Ah know Ah’m longer dan he is, even thout mah rattles.”

  “Ah hates tuh doubt yuh, Brer rattler, but Ah’m bound tuh think he’s de longest. You better stretch out an’ lemme measure yuh.”

  While de rattler wuz stretched out, de rabbit whammed ’im in de mouf wid uh club an’ knocked out all his teeth and grabbed ’em up an’ run back tuh Ole Master wid ’em.

  “Thass pretty good, now go git me two bottles of deer eye-water.”

  Rabbit went on off to de woods an’ set round tryin’ tuh study up uh way tuh git deer-eye-water. At las’ one day he seen de deer trottin’ long, an’ he stopped ’im.

  “Say, brer deer, know whut Ah seen de other day?”

  “Naw, whut did you see, brer rabbit?”

  “Ah seen brer wolf leap right through dem two trees you see growin’ over dere. Ah don’t speck tuh see dat done no mo’ whilst Ah lives. Fack is, nobody kin do dat but brer wolf.”

  De deer looked at de trees. They wuz two trees growin’ right close together.

  “Gwan, rabbit, you know Ah kin beat brer wolf an’ anybody else jumpin’. Jes’ you watch me.”

  He leaped through de trees and got stuck, so he couldn’t git loose, so he looked round at brer rabbit an’ said, “You better go git uh ax an’ chop down one uh dese trees so Ah kin git loose.”

  “All right, brer deer, but lemme hang dese two bottles on yo’ horns tuh keep from settin’ ’em on de groun’.”

  He hung de two bottles on his horns jes’ so they would hang at de corners of de deer’s eyes. Den he went on round behind de deer wid uh big stick an’ went tuh work on his hindquarters. He tole ’im, he said, “You gotta cry me some eye-water fo’Ah git you loose. Now you CRY!”

  He worked on dat deer till he cried him up two bottles uh water. Den he took dem to de Ole Maker an’ he said, “Thass jes’ all right! Now take dis box an’ keer (carry) it twelve mile out in de country befo’ you open it an’ you’ll find yo’ tail inside.”

  It wuz uh great big box an’ de rabbit put it on uh wagon an’ drove out in de country wid it. He counted de miles an’ he wuz so anxious tuh git his tail dat he almost stopped two or three times, but he thought he better not cause de Ole Maker might take his tail back, so he drove thirteen miles for fear he had done missed countin’ one. Den he took de box off de wagon an’ set it down.

  Soon as he done dat, he heard somethin’ inside say “Urrrr!” He said, “Thass mah tail turnin’ roun’.” He jekked (jerked) off one uh de boards an’ he heard dat noise agin. When he pulled off de las’ board, out jumped two hounds an’ took right after ’im. He beat ’em tuh uh dead holler log by uh inch, but hounds is been uh rabbit’s tail ever since.

  —JAMES PRESLEY.

  [Hurston’s manuscript includes here a second version, nearly identical, of “Why De Buzzard Has No Home.”]

  Dirt-Dauber and Bee

  De dirt-dauber come to de bee one day to get him to teach him how to make honey. De bee went to work right away an’ he tole de dirt-dauber to get some dust from de flowers an’ he would show him whut to do with it. De dirt-dauber said, “I know, I know,” (imitation of his song) and flew on off an’ come right back wid a load uh dirt.

  “Aw naw,” de bee tole him, “you don’t need dat to make honey! Go git some sweet dust from de roses an’ flowers.”

  Dirt-dauber said, “I know, I know,” and flew on off again an’ back he come wid some more dirt. Bee sent him off agin an’ he did it agin. After awhile de bee got tired uh foolin’ wid dat dirt-dauber, an’ he tole him, “Looka here, if you knowed how near you was in two*, you’d learn how to make honey instead of totin’ dirt.”

  —ARMETTA JONES.

  The alligator and de rabbits was having a squabble. De rabbits said there was more rabbits than alligators, and the’ gators said there was more ’gators than rabbits. So they all lined up cross de creek like de rabbit told them (the ’gators). De rabbit said he was going to count de ’gators as he hopped across de creek on they noses. And so just as he got to de last ’gator, he said he didn’t care nothin’ ’bout countin’ ’gators, he just wanted to git to de cabbage patch over on dat side. And just as he said dat, de ’gator said, “You ain’t gone yet,” and bit off his tail. And that’s whut makes de rabbit’s tail so short.

  —CATHERINE WILLIAMS.

  The snake went to God and said, “Please do something ’bout me. You put me on my belly in the dust and everything steps on me and tromps me down. They stomps on my chillen and ’stroys my generations.”

  God thought about it and tole de snake, “I don’t want y’all tromped out so I am goin’ to give you poison in your mouth so you’ll be de most dangerous animal in de world.” So He did.

  The other animals come to God and said, “Do something about dat snake. He got poison in his mouth and he is ’stroying us every time we step in de bushes. He is ’stroying our generations. We all is skeered to walk.”

  God thought about that, so he sent for the snake and said, “I give you poison to protect yo’self from your enemies; but youse killin’ everything dat moves.”

  Snake says, “Well, you knows I’m in de dust. All I kin see is feets comin’ to tromp me and my generations. How kin I tell who is my enemy?”

  God scratched His head and thought about that, so He says, “Put dis bell on de end of you tail and ring it every time you see feets comin’. Yo’ friends will be keerful after dey sees you. If it’s yo’ enemy, you and you.”

  Ever since then, snakes been had rattles.

  —ARTHUR HOPKINS.

  Once it wuz de rabbit an’ de elephant an’ de fox, an’ dey were givin’ uh frolic dat night, yuh know. It wuz uh girl dey all wanted tuh marry an’ dey said de one dat danced de dust outa uh rock could have her.

  Brother Rabbit had been workin’ an’ he wuz tired. So he cooked his supper, washed his feet, filled his shoes full uh ashes an’ put ’em on an’ den shined ’em an’ went on tuh de dance.

  Dey made de ’nouncement agin after he got dere dat de one whut danced de dust out de rock’s gointer git de girl.

  De fox danced fust. He cut an’ he capered an’ flung hisself head over heels, but he didn’t raise uh speck uh dust.

  De elephant he got up an’ danced, but he didn’t raise no dust. Den dey ast de rabbit tuh try. He helt back an’ when dey kept on at ’im, he said: “Brother Elephant didn’t dance it out big as he is, so Ah know Ah can’t. Ah’m little an’ he’s big.”

  But after while he got up an’ danced an’ de house got so full uh dust dat dey couldn’t see—so he got de girl.

  —NORA LEE WHITE.

  How the Gopher was Created

  Cliffert Ulmer is doin’ dis!

  God was setting down by de ocean makin’ all de fish and things and throwin’ ’em in. De devil wuz settin’ dere watchin’ Him. He made de whale and He th’owed dat in. He made mullets and th’owed dem in. He th’owed in sharks and trouts
stingaree (stinging ray) and after while He made uh turtle and th’owed dat in, and it swimmed off like all de other things He had done th’owed in. De devil looked at de turtle and says, “Shux, I kin make one uh dem things.”

  God tole ’im, “Naw, you cain’t neither.”

  “Aw, yes I kin, too. Who cain’t make one uh dem things? They sho ain’t nothin’ to make. Anybody could make one, they jus’ cain’t blow de breath uh life in ’im.”

  “I know you cain’t make none, but if you think you kin—go head and make it and I’ll blow de breath uh life in it fuh you.”

  So de devil went on off and made it and brought it back and de Lawd blowed de breath uh life intuh it and th’owed it intuh de sea. It swum back out. You see, God wuz gittin’ His dirt from by de water, but de devil had done got some high land dirt. Devil th’owed ’im back and he swum right back out agin. He th’owed him in agin and he swum back out de third time. God says, “Unh hunh, I tole you dat wuzn’t no turtle.”

  “Yes, it is uh turtle, too.”

  “Naw, it ain’t no turtle, neither.”

  “Yes, it is so uh turtle.”

  “Naw, it ’tain’t neither. Dontcher see it won’t stay in de water? All turtles likes de water. Dat ain’t no turtle.”

  Devil say, “Yes, dat is uh turtle, too—anyhow it’ll go for one.” And dat’s how come we got de go fors (gophers).

  —CLIFFORD ULMER.

  Once there was a rabbit and he had a good friend named Brother Fox. One day Brother Rabbit met Brother Fox and said to him, “Brother Fox, I know where there is a big piece of ham laying out there in the old field and all you got to do is to tie a string on him and carry him home for your wife and children.”

  So they went on down there and Brother Rabbit said, “There it is, Brother Fox.” So they tied a rope on the big piece of ham. Brother Rabbit broke him a little switch and hit the ham. Up jumped the horse and the way he did run. He ran as fast as the wind. Brother Rabbit said, “Hold him, Brother Fox, hold him.”