Rock Paintings of southern Africa

This painting is a copy of one of the many thousands left by the original inhabitants of the southern half of the African continent, the ancestors of today's Bushman or San people. The last rock paintings were executed during the early years of the 20th Century, while the earliest are the subject of scientific controversy. However, it seems certain that sophisticated art was being created in Africa at least 20,000-40,000 years ago, if not much longer.

STORIES

IN THE BEGINNING

Bee, the honey maker, the bringer of wisdom, flew over the endless dark waters that covered the new
earth. She was carrying a praying mantis on her back. Mantis dozed as Bee buzzed along, buzzed along. She
had been flying for a very long time, carrying Mantis. There was a chilly night wind blowing which made her
wings cold and stiff. She was tired and her burden became heavier and heavier. Bee looked for a piece of
solid ground where she could lay Mantis down. She flew closer and closer to the water, but could find no
earth. Then the darkness began to pale as the dawn broke, and, just as she thought she could fly no further, bee saw a great, white flower unfolding, floating on the water, waiting for the morning sun to rise for the very first time, and shed its golden light over those primal waters. Bee laid Mantis to rest in the heart of the white flower and planted within him the seed of the very first human being, safe from the wind. Then Bee, exhausted from her ordeal and her mission complete, died, and Mantis came alive in the morning sun. The wind had softened to a gentle breeze and was quietly rocking the white flower over the little waves. While Mantis lay in the warmth of the sun, still very drowsy from his long journey over the waters, he began to dream.  He dreamed of the different animals, birds, insects, plants and trees that would inhabit the earth. There were even special plants that could heal
people and animals when they got sick.
         All of a sudden there was a jolt. The white flower abruptly came to a standstill as it touched solid ground. Mantis was startled awake. He sat up and looked around in awe and wonder, his eyes dazzled by the brightness of the sunlight dancing on the water. He shaded his eyes with his hand and stood up, stepped off the flower and slowly stretched all his limbs. He began to walk, very shakily and slowly at first, then
faster and faster as he became stronger and more sure of his sturdy legs.  Now Bee had also placed a pouch of seeds on a string around Mantis' waist, and there was a tiny hole in the pouch, so as he walked, the seeds fell to the ground.
Suddenly that cold wind began to blow once more. It blew clouds over the sun, there was a rumble of
thunder, a crack of lightening, and several large raindrops plopped onto Mantis' head. He looked around for shelter, and, just as the rain came pelting down, he found a cave and dove in. It rained for a long time. It had become dark, then light, then dark, then light then dark again before it stopped raining, and the sun came out. Then, when Mantis finally ventured outside after that first storm, he saw that those seeds, which had fallen from the pouch around his
waist, had sprouted into the first grasses, bushes and trees to cover the earth.
          Mantis, his arms outstretched, ran through the trees to the grasses beyond, his fingers lightly touching the leaves as he passed, until he came to a standstill. He found himself caressing the fluffy tips of the grasses, his heart celebrating the abundance of textures offered by the greenery that grew in such exuberance all around. He stood looking around him, shaking his head in awe and wonder at the sight of so much beauty. Then his ears awakened and he became
aware of a delightful sound. He looked back towards the trees where the sound was coming from, and he saw a variety of little creatures with feathers and wings, chirping and twittering and singing their songs so sweetly, that Mantis stood frozen, his attention fixed on the tiny miracles. He was utterly charmed by their joyful melodies. There was one bird in particular which caught his attention. It flew from branch to branch and seemed to call to him with the most
alluring cry, 'cherr-cherr-cherr'. He followed the bird as it flew from tree to tree calling all the while, 'cherr-cherr-cherr', and then it stopped, perched on a branch, chirping and calling faster and more urgently than ever. 'Cherr cherr cherr'. Mantis went and stood under where the bird was perched, and there he saw it pecking at a beehive fat with honey. Some of it dripped onto his hand. He licked it off and tasted sweetness for the very first time. He picked up a sharp rock and cut some of the honeycomb and placed it on the branch where the bird was perched. He was so
grateful he wanted to thank it for its kindness. To this day the Bushmen follow the call of the honey guide as it is called, which will lead them to a hive. They leave a small piece of honeycomb on a bush in appreciation. Not too much, of course, because, if there is another hive in the area the amazing bird will lead them to it as well. Then Mantis came across the different kinds of buck that he had dreamed about, but they were all white, and he wanted to color them as they had appeared in his dream. He had noticed that the different kinds of bees made different colored honey. He found some rust colored honeycomb made by young bees, and gave it to the haartebeest who licked Mantis' hand with long, luscious strokes of his tongue, and he became rust colored like the comb of the young bees. To the gemsbok he gave liquid honey, which is cream colored, so the gemsbok turned a pale cream. Mantis squeezed out the red liquid from the young bees cells and gave it to the springbok. That is why the springbok is red. To the eland, the favorite antelope of all, the one they admired so much that they painted it all over the rock shelters that were their homes and sacred sites, he gave some of the red liquid honey, but, because of its great size, it wasn't enough to color all of him, so his belly remained white.

MANTIS MEETS HIS FAMILY

           Now, in this early time, Mantis dreamed theanimals, and as he wandered the newly made Earth, he
encountered them one by one.  They had become real.But the animals back then were like people. They were
the men, women and children of the early race, and, although they were animals, they acted a lot like people, and they could talk, too. Sometimes they lived in caves, while others made simple shelters by fashioning a frame of the branches of small trees, covering it by securing it with grass that grows abundantly around the veld, cut and tied into bundles. There were rock rabbit people, porcupine people, mongoose people, bee people, elephant people, lion
people, baboon people and tick people, to name a few. There were even terrible, frightening monsters.
          Mantis found his sister, Blue Crane, first. Then he found his wife, Dassie, the rock rabbit. In time, they had a son, Young Mantis. Mantis and Dassie also had an adopted daughter, Porcupine, who had run away from her own father, the fearsome Devourer of All Things. Every time he would open his mouth, fire shot out of it and would singe her eyebrows. Porcupine decided she could not live like this, so she ran away. Luckily she found Mantis and Dassie, who adopted her. In time she married Kwammang-a, the spirit of the rainbow who also acted like a person in that long ago, distant time. They had two sons, young Kwammang-a and Ichneumon, the mongoose. Mantis and his family all lived together in a small village of rough branch huts, that they would leave whenever they needed to follow the great herds of eland, or whenever they had collected as much of the wild food that they could, leaving just enough for it to grow back in time. They would pack up their belongings, which were never more than they could carry, so they could move on to where food and water were abundant.

 MANTIS STEALS FIRE FROM OSTRICH

            And in those early days the people of the early race did not know about fire. They had no light
at night, except for the stars, for Mantis had not yet created the moon, and all their food was eaten raw. Mantis noticed, however, that there was always a delicious smell when ostrich was eating. Nobody else had food that smelled so good. One day Mantis crept quietly up and hid behind a nearby bush and watched him. Ostrich was roasting his meat on a fire. When he had finished his meal, he picked up the fire and carefully tucked it under his wing. Then off he
walked.
             Mantis decided that he wanted that fire, but he was  certain Ostrich would not give it to him. He walked
about for days, his thinking strings working overtime, trying to figure out some way to trick Ostrich, when he came across a tree full of the beautiful ripe, yellow plums he knew were Ostrich's favorite. His thinking strings vibrated and filled his mind with beautiful sounds, and placed an image of a plan there. Early the next morning he went to see Ostrich. 'Ostrich,' he said, 'I have found a tree with the most delicious yellow plums- just the kind you love. Come
with me and we'll eat them together.' Ostrich was delighted. "This is a kind man," he thought. 'O.K.' he said, and followed Mantis into the veld. When they came to the tree Ostrich immediately began to pick the plums on the lower branches, and he ate them up. Those are not the best plums, said Mantis, 'the ripest ones are at the top of the tree. Reach higher!'
               As Ostrich stretched his wings up to reach that juiciest of plums, Mantis tried to grab the fire from under his arm, but he was not quick enough. 'That's not high enough!' said Mantis, not giving up. 'Look at that ripe one way up there, the grandfather of them all. ' Ostrich wanted that high one. He stood on tiptoe, opening his wings to balance himself and stretching up as high as he could. At that moment Mantis snatched some of the fire from beneath Ostrich's wing and ran home as fast as he could, and gave it to his family.  After that everyone could have  roasted meat and warmth and light in the dark, cold night. The people were so grateful that they lit a fire and celebrated by singing and dancing until dawn.

    Ostrich, however, felt she had been tricked, and was so ashamed. To this day she keeps her wings close to her side and never flies because she is afraid that the little fire she has left will fall and she'll lose that too.
           Ostrich is still brooding over her loss today. The Bushmen say that this makes her absentminded. When she has eggs she lays one outside the nest so when she and her mate sit on the ones in the nest to hatch them, it reminds them of what they are doing so they don't get up and walk away. Poor Ostrich! The Bushman make fun of her but they also like to eat her eggs. After making a hole in the top of the egg and sucking out the contents, the clever Bushmen use the empty shells to store water and termite eggs, which they call bushman rice. If one of them happens to break, the women grind the pieces smooth and use them to make beads to decorate themselves.
 

The Son of the Wind

           One day Mantis and his family were sitting around the evening fire, peaceful after a violent wind storm. The wind had blown non stop for three days, whipping up the branches of the trees and setting the sand to dance in  whirlwinds over the dunes.  The people had huddled together in their little huts, protecting their eyes from the stinging sand. Finally, it had died down and the people could get on with their lives. They had just finished the evening meal
and Mantis decided to tell the children, still quite young, a story about the wind.
           'The wind was once a person of the early race,' began Mantis.'Wind and his wife had a little baby boy.
When the son of the Wind was first born he hardly moved at all, but when he grew a little bigger he wanted to play so he looked around for someone to play with. He blew gently over the earth and eventually found a dried up ball of branches, what we call a tumbleweed, that, when he blew it, rolled along, rolled along as he went.
           Soon he came to a place where a small group of Bushmen were setting up camp. There was a little boy called !Na-ka-ti playing in the sand with his 'kibi, his digging stick. Young wind rolled the ball to !Na-ka-ti and said, 'There it goes, !Na-ka-ti!' and !Na-ka-ti rolled the ball back to him saying, 'There it goes, friend.'
          They played in this way until !Na-ka-ti's mother called him to come and eat. 'I have to go,' said !Na-ka-ti, 'but
don't go away, I'll be right back.' !Na-ka-ti was happy to have a friend to play with because there was no one his age traveling with their little group. !Ni-ka-ti asked his mother, 'What is my friend's name? He calls me by my name when he rolls the ball to me. I would like to call him by his name when I roll the ball to him.'
          His mother answered, 'O my son, would that I could tell you his is name!  Go and see whether your father has finished sheltering our hut. Make sure he secures it well. When he has finished, then I can tell you his name.' So !Na-ka-ti went out to see whether his father had finished securing the hut.
        'Father, have you finished the hut yet?', asked !Na-ka-ti.
        'No, not yet, my son.' replied his father.
         So !Na-ka-ti went out again to play with the wind-child. Again, the wind-child called him by his name. 'Na-ka-ti, there it goes.' And !Na-ka-ti answered, 'There it goes, o friend!'  They played like this for a while, having so much fun, when !Na-ka-ti's father called to him. 'Son, I need you to hold this mat in place while I tie it fast. Then we will be able to rest in peace tonight.'  When they had finished securing the hut, !Na-ka-ti went back to his mother and said, 'Father has finished securing the hut. Now will you tell me my friend's name?' His mother bent down and whispered in his ear, 'When you say your friend's name, be ready to run as fast as you can to the hut for shelter, for he is likely to blow you away.'
          !Na-ka-ti went out to play ball with his friend again, and  again the wind-child called, '!Na-ka-ti, there it goes, !Na-ka-ti!' and !Na-ka-ti answered, 'There it goes, oh Ierriten-!Kuan-!Kuan, there it goes !Ga!Gaubu-ti'. The wind child was so surprised at hearing his name uttered that he fell over and landed on his back. He began to kick so violently that the wind blew stronger and stronger, whipping up the dust, and !Na-ka-ti turned and ran as fast as he could, sheltering his eyes from the clouds of sand that the wind child was kicking up. At last he reached the  saftey of his family's hut and, with the wind howling in his ears, he could just hear his mother pleading,
          'Oh  mother of the wind-child, stand your son upright so that  we may keep our shelter, and sleep in peace tonight!' Over and over again she pleaded. !Na-ka-ti and his family huddled together in the hut and joined in pleading for the mother of the wind to come out and set the wind-child on his feet, for they were all terrified that they would be blown away and buried alive in the sand.
          At last the mother of the wind-child heard the people's  pleas, and went out to find her son. As soon as she found him she picked him up gently and stood him on his feet and immediately the wind died down.  She took him home and put him to bed, for he was tired out from his busy day of playing with !Na-ka-ti, and kicking so violently when he couldn't get up.
          The people were so pleased that the mother of the wind heard their pleas for help, they built a big fire in her honor and danced all night, thankful that they were all still alive. They sang this song to the wind;

                                Howling wind whistles in my ears,
                                Fills my eyes with tears.
                                Howling wind whistles in my ears,
                                Fills my heart with fear.
                                Be at peace, be at peace
                                That we may sleep in peace tonight.

                                 Mother of the wind,
                                 Come and take your child,
                                 That we may sleep in peace,
                                 Tonight.

           Wind needed his mother and father to take care of him, for he was still young and lacked control of his actions. Without them he would have destroyed too much of the earth and the people in it. And without the people to alert and appeal to the Mother, the same could happen. So, it is co-operation and communication between the people and the elements, animals and plants that nurture us and that helps to keep our lives in balance and harmony.
           Later, when the wind child grew up he became a bird and lived in a cave in a mountain. He no longer walked about; instead, he flew. When he was hungry he would come out of his cave to look for food. That is when the wind would blow. If he was very hungry he would slash at the branches of the trees and whip the sand into a whirling dance in the air. When he had eaten he would return to his cave, and the wind would die down.'
           The whole family sat silently around the fire, mesmerised by the story. Mantis continued, 'Make no mistake about this wind-bird. If a man has thrown a stone at a bird, wanting to hunt it, only to find that it was the wind, it will be very angry and blast the sand into a whirling dance in the air.' Mantis jumped up and twirled around in the sand, his arms flaying about like branches in the wind. 'And ,' he continued, 'this would go on until at last wind would get tired and go home to his cave in the mountain, and all would be peaceful again.'
          No-one uttered a sound. All that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and the rising and
falling of the people breathing. Then Dassie said slowly, 'We Bushmen feel the wind inside of ourselves as well as outside. Our breath is a form of the wind. When we die our own breath blows gently over our footprints and wipes them out forever. Our earthwalk is over and we go to join the greater wind without, and together we make the clouds that send the life giving rain that helps sustains life on earth.'

Dawn's Heart
                                            
              Ichneumon the Mongoose had killed his
first eland and had brought it home to the family for
a feast. When they were finisheed eating they were all
gathered around the fire, and Mantis started to tell
the story of the hunter most revered by the Bushmen,
Dawn's Heart.
             'The sun was setting as !Ko-g!uin-tara
and her family walked into their camp,' began Mantis.
They had just spent the afternoon gathering bushfood.
Night came swiftly in the desert, and !Ko-g!nuin-tara
was sitting by the evening fire, her family all around
her, just as we do now. They had just finished the
evening meal when her father pointed to the horizon
where a large star was rising. 'We can go tomorrow to
dig for Bushman rice,' he said, for when the star we
call Canopus rises, it signals the ripening of the
termite eggs, one of the favorite foods of the people.
Her father picked up a small piece of wood and put the
end into the fire. When it had ignited he took it out
and held it up to the star, waving it slowly back and
forth, and sang,

                               O star coming out there,
                               Let me a springbok see,
                               O star comming out there,
                               Let me dig out !haken,
                               O star comming out there,
                               I give you my heart,
                               Give me your heart,
                               That I may eat and not hunger,
                               That I may dance tonight,
                               That I may sleep tonight.

                  !Ko-g!nuin-tara's mother began to
clap and sing too and some got up and danced a round,
but it had been a long day and everyone was tired, and
it was not long before the singing and dancing petered
out and everyone had disappeared into their huts to
turn in for the night. Even her sister, Zedde-Zoe, who
was her constant companion, had curled up in their
little hut and had fallen asleep. It was very dark.
The moon had not yet been created and there were few
stars in the sky. !Ko-g!nuin-tara sat in front of the
fire for a long time, until the flames died down to
red, glowing embers. She felt a tapping in her chest
and her thinking strings told her to pick up the
embers and fling them into the sky. This she did
carefully, respecting the fire, flinging it up into
the sky like a streamer of light which, when it
settled, became the Milky Way. As she was gazing into
the sky she noticed a bright star rising and she could
hear it's ringing music and she felt a stream of light
unite with her heart. She was mezmerised by it's
beauty and felt at one with that star. And that star
was Dawn's Heart.(said by three different scources to
be jupiter,-Elizabeth Elfman- venus? or Mars-Schapira
in Khoisan Peoples of Africa) Dawn's heart was also a
man of the early race who came down to earth for a
while.
                    One day, Dawn's Heart was out
hunting with his mates when he came across
!Ko-g!nuin-tara and her family's camp. Dawn's Heart
was immediately struck by !Ko-g!nuin-tara' beauty and
he fell deeply in love with her. He began to woo her
and, of course, !Ko-g!nuin-tara fell in love with the
handsome, personable hunter.
After a while, Dawn's Heart asked his beloved's
father, as was the custom, for her hand in marriage.
He, in turn, asked !Ko-g!nuin-tara what she wanted to
do. She graciously accepted and the two were married.
They lived happily together and soon they were blessed
with the birth of a baby.
                 Now Hyena was jealous of
!Ko-g!nuin-tara. She too wanted a handsome husband
like Dawn's Heart and a baby just like theirs. So she
took to spying on the family. One day she saw Dawn's
Heart leave on a hunting trip with the other hunters
of the group. She knew they would be gone for several
days so she saw an opportunity to put her jealous
scheming into action. She found a termite hill that
was conveniently located between the camp and the
waterhole the people used when they needed water. It
was full of the eggs that were the favorite food of
the people, ripe and ready to harvest. She dug out
handful after handful and stuffed them into her mouth,
until she had eaten her fill.  She rubbed her hands
over her body to collect the persperation that, the
Bushmen say, holds the essence of a person. It was
contaminated with her jealous scheming and she rubbed
it all over the termite hill, poisening the rest of
the eggs inside. Then she hid behind a bush to see
what would happen.
         It wasn't long before !Ko-g!nuin-tara and
Zeddee-Zoe were getting hungry. 'I know where we can
find some Bushman rice ready to harvest,' said
Zeddee-Zoe to her sister. 'The baby just went to
sleep. Grandma will keep an ear out for her. Let's go
get some so we can eat and not go hungry.'  They
picked up their digging sticks and collecting bags and
headed for the termite hill. !Ko-g!nuin-tara was the
first to arrive. She stuck her digging stick into the
termite hill, her mouth watering in anticipation, dug
out a handful of the delicious eggs, cleaned off the
dirt by tossing them from hand to hand, and popped
them into her mouth to relieve her hunger. No sooner
did she taste them than she spat them out, crying, "
Don't touch these eggs! They are poisened!' But, for
her, it was too late. Even the tiny bit she had tasted
was enough to poisen her. Her ostrich eggshell beads
fell out of her hair. Her kaross fell to the ground
and her skirt loosened and fell off her too. She
slowly began to turn into a wild cat, making her way
to the reeds that surrounded the water hole.
Zeddee-Zoe, running after her in a panic, wailed "What
about your baby? Who will nurse her?' 'Bring her to me
and as long as my thinking strings stand, I will nurse
her!' called !Ko-g!nuin-tara, running into the reeds
to hide.
          Meanwhile hyena watched the two sisters from
behind the bush and when !Ko-g!nuin-tara's clothes
fell off and they both ran towards the reeds, Hyena
picked up the ornaments and clothes that had fallen on
the ground, and ran as fast as she could back to the
camp. There she entered the hut where the baby lay
sleeping and proceeded to dress herself up in
!Ko-g!nuin-tara's clothes and thread her hair with the
ostrich eggshell ornaments. The baby woke up and
started to cry. She was hungry, and she missed her
mother's warm skin to snuggle against. Hyena had no
idea how to take care of the baby so she left it there
to cry as she continued to preen herself. Just then
Dawn's Heart and the hunters returned to the camp with
the spoils of their expidition and he heard the baby
crying. He peered into the hut and' seeing a figure
from behind, was surprised to see who he thought was
!Ko-g!nuin-tara dressing her hair and ignoring the
baby, "Why don't you feed the baby for she is hungry?'
asked Dawn's heart, when, just then, Zeddee-Zoe came
running into the hut, picked up the baby and ran out
again. Dawn's Heart, suprised at this behaviour, shook
his head and returned to the work of distributing the
meat and getting the cook fire started, and he turned
to help the other hunters with the work, thinking that
!Ko-g!uin-tara was not quite ready to greet him.
          Zeddee-Zoe ran with the baby to the reeds
where the true !Ko-g!nuin-tara was hiding and handed
her the baby. She heard the soft, sucking sounds of
the baby nursing, and when she had had her fill
!Ko-g!nuin-tara tenderly handed the baby back and said
with a low growl, 'Bring her back soon, for my
thinking strings are falling and it seems I'm already
forgetting who I have been.'  Zeddee-Zoe took the baby
back to the hut where Hyena was sitting. The baby had
fallen into a contented sleep, Zeddee-Zoe put her
gently down on the sleeping skins, and went outside to
see if she could help with the preparations for the
feast. She moved as if in a trance. Perhaps Hyena had
worked some evil magic on her as well for she was
unable to confront Hyena about her treachery.
             The women had gathered around the fire
and had started to clap and sing songs of praise for
the success of the hunters. Dawn's Heart tapped
Zeddee-Zoe on the shoulder which snapped her out of
her trance, and said, 'Clap for me, dear sister, for I
would like to dance. ' Zeddee-Zoe saw the opportunity
to deal with Hyena and replied, " Why don't you ask
your wife to clap for you?'
              Dawn's Heart went into the hut and as
his eyes got used to the dim light he saw it was Hyena
dressed in his wife's clothing. He picked up his spear
which was leaning against the wall of the hut, and
hurled it at Hyena, who dodged the spear, pushed
passed Dawn's Heart and ran out of the hut,
!Ko-g!niun-tara's clothing flying off her. She was
moving so fast she ran straight into the fire and out
the other side, yelping and jumping with pain as her
feet burned in the hot flames. She became altogether
the animal hyena of today. And hyenas, to this day,
slink home after a day's scaveging, with a limping
gait, as if their feet hurt.
                Dawn's Heart was angry with his
sister-in-law for not telling him about his wife's
plight. Zeddee-Zoe found her voice finally and told
him what had happened. She advised him to round up a
goat and take it down to the reeds where
!Ko-g!nuin-tara was hiding. She was certainly almost
completely transformed into an
animal by now and she was probably hungry. So they
took a goat down to the reeds where she was living,
and her sister called to her, '!Ko-g!nuin-tara, let
the child suck!' and !Ko-g!nuin-tara sprang out of the
reeds and seeing the goat, she jumped on it. Dawn's
Heart then caught hold of his wife, as did the others
who were there with them, and they grabbed the fur
skin that was covering her and pulled it off. Then
!Ko-g!nuin-tara spoke and said, 'Leave the hair on the
end of my ears for I will not be able to hear without
it.' So this they did. Then, when the early race came
to an end, !Ko-g!nuin-tara turned into the first lynx.
And this is why the lynx has hair on the end of her
ears.
             When !Ko-g!nuin-tara saw her sister
standing there holding her baby, and the baby started
to cry, she remembered who she was and took her baby
and nursed it.
              They all went back to their huts where
!Ko-g!nuin-tara put on her clothes and ostrich
eggshell ornaments. Then they all had a night of
feasting and dancing, happy they were back together
again.
              When the early race came to an end
Dawn's Heart went to live again in the heavens and
became the bright star the Bushmen of today admires. A
mother will hold her baby boy up to Dawn's Heart and
ask him,   'Take my child's heart and give him yours
that he may be a great and courageous hunt er like
you.'
 

Elephants Steal Pet Springbok              

           Mantis had a pet springbok, called Kattau,
who he loved not a little. He loved Kattau a lot. One
day they were out walking near their village. They
came upon a tall thorn tree, and as they walked around
it, Mantis saw a large hole deep under it's roots. Out
of the hole buzzed several bees, and as he peered into
the dark hole, he saw a very large beehive. Mantis
licked his lips at the thought of all that delicious
honey, so he lit a fire, and when he had it burning
nicely, he took a piece of leather out of his hunting
bag and with it,so as not to burn his hands, lifted
out a log that was smoldering, and smoked those bees
right out of that hive.
          'Wait here, Kattau,' Mantis instructed his
pet as he jumped down into the hole and began to cut
away at the honeycomb with his stone knife, his desire
for sweetnes overcoming the fear of a few remaining
bees that were buzzing around his head. He cut off a
large piece and broke it in half. He threw one piece
up to Kattau.
          'Time for a sweet feast!' he called. 'Eat
up!'
          He cocked his head to one side and listened
to the sound of his pet chewing contentedly. 'Schlup,
schlup, schlup.' chewed Kattau. Mantis cut another
large slice and threw half to his springbok, and again
he called out,
         'Little one, chew on this.'  So deep inside
the hole crouched Mantis  that he could not see his
pet, so he listened for the contented sound of the
little buck chewing, 'Schlup, schlup, schlup.'
          Then Mantis took his digging stick and began
digging up the earth so that more of the comb might be
uncovered. He sang a honey song as he worked. He
picked up his knife and cut a third slice and threw
some up to Kattau.
          'Eat up, little one!' commanded Mantis, and
he himself stopped eating so as better to hear the
contented sound which made his heart happy. But this
time there was silence. There was no sound of chewing,
no sound of movement, no sound at all.
          While Mantis was digging, singing at the top
of his lungs, joyful from the sweetness of the honey,
some elephants came along. Mother elephant, spying
little Kattau and, desiring to own him, had very
quietly picked him up, placed him on her back and
walked off. She left her own elephant calf sitting by
the hole where Mantis was digging. Mantis said,
            'What is the matter with the child? Why is
there no longer any sound of chewing?' He cast out
more honey and asked,
             'Are you eating as I am?'
             Then the elephant calf said, 'Kurru.' and
Mantis exclaimed,
             'Listen!' Mantis cocked his head too one
side, listening to the  sound. 'What is the matter?
What could have happened to the child's throat to make
it answer like this?' I cannot understand what it
says. I will throw out more honey and listen again.'
          So Mantis thew out more honey. 'Are you
eating as I am
eating?' The elephant calf said 'Kurru!'
         Feeling that there was something terribly
wrong with his pet, Mantis thew aside his own piece of
honeycomb and climbed out of the hole. He found the
elephant calf sitting covered in honeycomb, honey
dripping down his face into his mouth and happily
licking up the sticky delicacy. 'Kurru!' it murmured
contentedly. 
         'What has happened to my pet?' cried Mantis,
looking wildly around. There was no sign of the little
buck anywhere!
          'Ye-ye, ye-ye, ye-he! Where has my little
pet gone?' Mantis
wept. He saw tracks in the sand all around the hole.
They were Kattau's, surrounded by the huge tracks that
Mantis immediately recognised as belonging to the
great elephant people.
          'These terrible elephants must have taken my
little springbok away from me. I want him back!'
cried Mantis, and with that, he started runnung in the
direction the tracks led. But he stopped suddenly and
said,
          'I must go home first and tell my sister,
the little springbok's mother, what has happened.
Otherwise she will wonder why we do not come home.'
         So he ran home as fast as he could and called
out to Blue Crane, 'Sister,  pack up some biltong into
a bag for me. I will follow the tracks of the elephant
people who have carried off our little pet springbok
and bring him home!' He told her and Dassie what had
happened while he was digging  for honey.
          His sister was angry. She said, 'Could you
not hear those elephants when they stood above you?'
          Mantis answered, 'I really did not hear for
I was digging in the hole, singing the honey song for
the great luck of the discovery!'
          Blue Crane cried. 'You must have been asleep
in that hole!
That is why you did not hear those elephants! I demand
that you go and bring back my child!'
          He picked up his quiver of arrows and put it
under his arm. He
took his bow and slung it over his shoulder. Then,
taking the bag of food from Blue Crane, he said to
Dassie, 'Watch the wind in the grass. While it blows
the grass away from our hut it means that I'm still
going out, searching for our dear, little Kattau. But
when the wind turns and blows the grass towards our
hut it means I have am returing home with our little
one.'
           Dassie wept, afraid that the old man was
walking into a dangerous trap set by those cunning
elephant people. 'Be careful, old man!' she cried
after him anxiously.
          Mantis went back to the honey hole. Elephant
calf was still there, still trying to lick off the
honey that Mantis had thrown over it. He found the
tracks of the elephant people and followed them,
running along, running along, bent over so that he
could see the tracks in the sand. Elephant calf
followed as best he could soon lagging way behind.
Hour after hour after he  ran, the sun beating down
upon his back, until at last he came over a little
hill and saw the houses of the elephant people
clustered around a huge thorn tree down below. Mantis
quickly ducked behind a rock lest the elephants should
see him. He cautiously peered around the edge and saw
Kattau playing happily among the elephant children.
          'Ahhhh!' gasped Mantis. 'There is my little
pet playing with the elephant children,' His heart
leaping with joy to see his little one again.
          Mother Elephant looked up suddenly and spied
Mantis crouching behind the rock up on the hill. She
stamped her feet until the ground under Mantis began
to tremble, for she knew he had come to take back his
little pet. She wrapped her trunk around the little
creature, popped him into her mouth and swallowed him.
         Putting aside his horror, Mantis leaped out
from behind the tree and ran down to confront Mother
Elephant. Mantis cried bravely, 'Where is my little
Kattau? Where is my pet that you stole from me?'
          Mother Elephant plopped herself down outside
her hut and said, 'We have no little springbok here.
Can't you see there are only elephant children playing
games together?'
          Mantis, enraged, shouted, 'you are lying. I
saw my little pet playing with your children when I
was watching from up on the hill! And how do you know
it is a little springbok? I saw you pick him up with
your trunk and pop him into your mouth. If you don't
give him to me right now I'll come and get him out
myself!'
           Mother elephant just sat beside her hut,
threw her trunk over the back of her head and bellowed
with laughter.  'Exactly how do you think you'll
manage that, eh?'
            Mantis was furious. So furious was he that
he hopped up and down with rage, and to gather steam.
'No problem!' he cried, running forward. He grabbed
onto Mother Elephant's trunk and swung himself up into
her gaping mouth before the elephant warriors could
grab their spears and stop him. Mantis was far too
quick for them. Mother Elephant hiccupped in surprise
while Mantis crawled down her throat into the big dark
cave of her belly where he could see nothing at all.
          'Where are you, my little Kattau?' he
called.
           'Iiiiyyy!  Iiiyyy!' the little springbok
wimpered in fear. Mantis was on his hands and knees as
he crawled towards the sad sound, groping in the
darkness until his hand finally found a shivering
back. 'There, there, little one.' Mantis said
tenderly. He stroked him gently to calm him down and
kissed his head and was happy that he was unhurt. Then
talking off his kaross, he gently wrapped him in it
and slung him over his shoulder.
          He crawled back up Mother Elephant's throat,
carrying his precious cargo, and when he reached her
tongue he sat down and listened for his thinking
strings to tell him what to do next. He could hear the
elephant warriors shouting in anger. 'You tricked us,
you cunning Mantis! But we are waiting for you here
with our spears and when you come out you are dead
meat!'
         'Tji! Tji!, Tji! The warriors are waiting for
me at the mouth.'  Mother Elephant had her mouth wide
open so the warriors could get Mantis when he climbed
out. He peeked cautiously over the mound of her great
tongue and saw them crowding around with their great
spears. He did not know what to do. Then his thinking
strings stirred. 'Look up!' they said.
          Mantis looked up and saw the opening of
mother elephant's trunk.  'Aiiie!' he exclaimed in
glee, 'there is another way to get out of here!'
          He reached up and grabbed hold of the edge
and pulled himself and Kattau up. Mother Elephant's
the trunk was curved up over her back to keep her
mouth clear so the warriors could catch Mantis when he
tried to get away. But cleaver Mantis climbed up the
steep passage of her trunk and came out on Mother
Elephant's back. Then, as he was climbing up onto the
top of her head, one of the warriors saw him and
shouted, 'Look! Look! There he is! Get him!.
        Again the elephant warriors rushed forward,
but again Mantis was too quick for them.
          'You can't hurt me!' Mantis jeered, 'I am
the Mantis! I can do anything!' And, because Mantis is
a flying creature, he spread his wings and took off
with the little springbok on his back.
          'There's no-one like me!' he cried
triumphantly as he flew away to safety. 'I am the
Mantis! I am the Great Magician!'
          Outside Mantis' hut Dassie was sitting
nervously watching the wind blow the grass away from
her. Then, right in front of her eyes, the wind
changed direction, bending the green blades towards
her.
          'Look people!' she said. 'it is just as
Mantis said it would be! The wind is blowing the grass
towards us! Mantis is comming home!'
          Looking into the wind, the people saw
Mantis flying towards them.
          'It's grandfather! It is grandfather
flying!' exclaimed Ichneumon the mongoose excitedly,
jumping up and down. All the people ran towards him as
he landed. Mantis untied the little pet springbok and
set him on the ground. Blue Crane brought an ostrich
egg filled with water so Kattau and Mantis could drink
after their great ordeal. And although they often
scolded the old man, the people were pleased to see
him home again because he had rescued the little pet,
for, though Kattau belonged to Mantis, they all loved
him dearly.
          Meanwhile, back at the elephant's camp, just
as all the elephant people were watching Mantis fly to
safety with the little springbok, Mother Elephant
turned her head and cried joyfully as she saw her
elephant calf lumbering down the hill, having finally
made his way home.

Rain

           It was the end of a long season of drought.
The people had gathered as much of the bush food as
they could for miles around, leaving just enough for
the plants to grow back abundantly the next season.
The waterhole was reduced to a mere puddle and the
people went with straws to suck up water and fill as
many ostrich eggshells as they could carry in their
karosses. They gathered as much of the medicine plants
they might need. The animals had long moved away in
search of food, and nearly all the store of dried meat
had been consumed. It was time to move on. They packed
up their camp and set out in the direction the animals
had migrated. When the water gave out, the desert
provided them with tsama melons.  One day Young Mantis
was walking ahead of the people and he came across
several tsama melons growing nearby his path. He ran
over to them, overjoyed at the prospect of quenching
his thirst, and he cut the top of one of them open
with his stone knife and mashed the contents with a
stick. Then he pulled a straw he had out of his
hunting bag, just for that purpose, and sucked up the
liquid gratefully, sending a prayer of thanks to the
desert provider. He alerted everyone to the melons and
they all sat down for a welcome, refreshing break,
feeling a unity with the provider of such a blessing
and with each other. They traveled on for many days,
pausing around midday, just as soon as they could find
some shade to rest in, then stopping again at dusk to
light a fire for the meager evening meal. Perhaps
someone had found a few roots and dug them up with
their digging stick, to share with the others at
mealtime. But there was not enough food to satisfy
their hunger. They moved about lethargically, visibly
depressed. One evening Dassie sat by the evening fire,
after a meager meal of a few roots they had gathered
that day. She sang sadly;

                                      Under the sun the earth dry,
                                      By the fire alone I cry.
                                      All day long the earth cries out
                                      For the rain to come.
                                      All night long in my heart I pray
                                      For my hunter to come and take me away.

Mantis bravely answered, singing softly,

                                      Oh listen to the wind,
                                      You who are crying there;
                                      The time is coming soon,
                                      The rain is near. (2)
                                      Listen to your heart,
                                      Your hunter is here to stay.(2)

              After a moon of traveling thus, the
group came across another band of Bushmen, who told
them that they too had been traveling for a moon, in
search of food and water.  After greeting each other
and setting up camp, it was decided to hold a healing
dance to make rain. The women and children went out
into the veld to collect the firewood needed for the
dance fire. The fire is a strong thing, and helps to
support the people during the dance. Just after
sunset, as the clear sky became illumined with yellow,
apricot and orange light, the people began to gather
where the dance was to take place. They lit two fires,
one for each band, and, as the colors on the horizon
deepened to crimson and the sky turned a most
beautiful and delicate violet, some of the women sat
themselves around the fires and began singing and
clapping one of the medicine songs that they say are
taught to a member of the band by the great God for
the wellbeing of the people. More women joined in the
music-making, and soon, a hearty chorus sounded as
darkness fell, calling to the men who had begun to
gather. They had bound rattles made of a series of
pods with seeds in them around their calves and
ankles, and, one by one they began to dance in short
staccato stamps, rattles swooshing, and creating a
groove in the sand as they moved to the rhythmn of the
women's music in a figure eight around the two fires.
                          Soon all had joined in the
dance, each playing their parts, adding their
intentions to the plea for the much needed rain. The
children joined the adults from time to time, then
they would break away to dance their own dance or play
a game. After a while the medicine men went into
trance, the intensity of their concentration making
the sweat break out on their foreheads and run in
streams down their faces, just as they wanted the sky
to release the life-giving rain upon the earth. They
found the Rain-bull in the spirit world, tethered it
and led it to where they wanted the rain to fall, and
they slaughtered it as they would an antelope they had
hunted for food. Where the spirit blood of this
mythical figure fell, so the rain would fall and
quench the dry earth. When they were near arock
escarpment, the medicine men would paint the
experience on a rock face, a message from the
ansestors for future generations.
           Soon the music stopped, and the men and
women rested for a while, then sooner or later, the
music would start up again, and the dance would
continue. Then the medicine men started healing the
people who needed it, pulling out the sickness with
strokes and shaking of their hands, and shrieking as
they released the stale, sick energies to where they
could no longer harm the people.  And so it went all
night long.
            As the dawn paled the sky, and the myriad
of stars went out one by one, a few clouds began to
gather in little, round tufts on the horizon. 'Look!'
Dassie pointed to the little clouds.'There are the
thoughts and prayers of the people. The shape of the
clouds look like the tufts of hair that grow on our
heads.' The people who were still awake, for many, and
all the children, had long since fell asleep in their
mothers' laps around the fire, gazed in wonder at the
spectacle, then they, too, made their way to their
huts, carrying the sleeping children, to rest and
recover after the long night of dancing so the rains
would come.
          Later that day, the gentle breeze
strengthened and dark clouds began to blow across the
sky. Lightening flashes slashed through their purple
underbellies from one side of the vast panarama to the
other. All the living creatures and plants had been
waiting and waiting for this flashing light through
the endless dry season. The people had longed, prayed
and danced desperately for the rain to fall. Once the
lighting appeared, even though not one drop of rain
has fallen, the animals followed after it in the
thousands, from one end of the vast land to the other.
The two bands that had danced so hard, rejoicingly
packed up their few belongings and set out for the
west where the lightening appeared, following the
animals, all hoping soon to meet the refreshing and
renewing rain.
          The people prayed for a soft, gentle rain
that wafts across the land like a fragrant mist. This
is a female rain. But now, as if aware of the urgency
of the people's plight, lightening rips across the
sky. A loud thunder crash follows. The people fear
this male rain, bearing lightening that can kill,
though they are thankful that their prayers  have been
answered.
           Mantis called to the children as they made
their way towards the storm,  'Look straight at the
lightening without blinking! If you do this, the
lightening will be frightened away from us by it's own
reflection! You have to be brave in a lightening
storm!'
            Finally they stopped at a good place for
them to set up camp and assembled the sticks and grass
they had gathered just for the purpose, and each
family erected a little hut that would shelter them
from the rain when it came. No sooner had they
finished their task, than suddenly the heavens opened
up and cascades of water pelted the dry earth. The
rain came down in torrents, soaking the people and all
their things. The children lifted up their faces with
open mouths, hoping to catch some of the rain to
quench the thirst they thought could never be
quenched. The people ran to their huts as the rain
fell. The young girls and boys huddled together under
their karosses. Dassie told them that if the
lightening strikes them they would be turned into
stars, or into flowers that grow in the water. On and
on fell the rain. Rivers ran down the sides of trees.
Water rushed down stream beds that had been dry for
months under the hot sun. All the earth was drenched
in the torrent. Then, silence. The people slept.
          A few days later the desert burst into a
riot of color, little wild flowers carpeting the veld
from horizon to horizon. White blossems open along the
branches of the few trees that are scattered about the
landscape; flowers of many colors spring out of the
dunes, growing from seeds that have been waiting in
the hot sand, covering the whole desert as far as the
eye can see, with a carpet of vibrant color. The
flowers bud and blossom, and bear seeds quickly. The
season is short. The people felt as renewed and
envigorated as the earth when the rain falls, making
everything green, and they moved about with a spring
in their steps as they went about their chores. 
          One night, as they all gathered around the
fire after the evening meal, Mantis began to talk.
"Rain,' he said, 'was a person of the early race, and
rain could take the form of anything he chose.       
                    
           Once Rain came down to earth in the form of
a Water Buffalo. He was trotting along, trotting
along, his breath forming a gentle mist all around
him. After a while he noticed a delicate fragrance as
he breathed in the cool air, and he tracked the
alluring scent to a small camp, where, however, there
was no sign of any people. Still, the aroma was
stronger than ever and he followed his nose to the
entrance of a small hut, where a young woman, Khwa,
lay on her sleeping skins, sick. She was tended by her
sister who was also taking care of her baby. The rest
of the people had gone out in search of food. Khwa's
sister had gently rubbed buchu, a fragrant herb, over
her body, to help her recover, and it was the smell of
the herbs which attracted Rain. There was a bundle of
it lying beside Khwa.
             The sight of her lying there touched
Rain's heart and he began to sing softly. She heard
the beautiful sound and lifted her head. She saw him
through the mist, standing in the doorway, singing:
                              O come with me my sweet young maid
                              That I may be renewed,
                              And give to all upon the earth,
                              Lifegiving rain, lifegiving rain.

               Khwa was mesmerised by the music.
Little by little she felt the sickness leaving her.
She got up and gently took her baby from her sister's
arms and nursed him. When the baby fell asleep, she
lay him down on the soft sleeping skins, and left him
in her sister's care. She picked up the bundle of
buchu and went to the door of her hut where Rain stood
watching her, humming softly under his breath.
                Khwa climbed onto Rain's back and
rubbed some of the buchu onto his head. He was filled
with elation and he turned around and trotted off with
Khwa on his back. They trotted along, trotted along,
both singing as they went:

                               O come with me my sweet young love
                               That I may be renewed,
                               And give to all of life on earth,
                               Life giving love, lifegiving love.

                 After a while Khwa became tired and
asked Rain to set her down in the shade of a tree so
she may rest. This he did. She rubbed him all over
with the buchu and he becamme so relaxed, he fell
asleep. While they were resting there, Khwa felt a
tapping in her breasts and knew that her baby needed
her. She tiptoed quietly away, not wanting to wake
Rain, and followed his tracks home. On the way back
she came to a waterhole and washed herself clean of
the smell of the bull, and all that remained was the
sweet scent of Rain.
             As the sun was setting, Rain felt cool
lying under the tree and woke up. He thought Khwa was
still on his back and he trotted along, trotted along,
until he came to a crystal clear spring where the
water bubbled out of the ground. Finally he found a
home from where he could make life-giving rain for the
plants and creatures of the earth. And, because Khwa
had shared her sweet smelling healing herbs with him,
it inspired him to stay and bring rain to the people.

Young Mantis and the Baboons

          There was a time when the baboons were being
very troublesome. The baboons were animals. Once they
had also been people. They had been baboon people, but
they had grown too used to sitting back on their
heels. They had become too lazy to break branches to
build huts and make weapons or cook food or do any of
those things which people must do. They had even lost
the fire which old maker of fire had given them. Now
they were altogether baboons and they lived on a hill
among the stones, and whenever they saw one of the
people they would bark and shout insults because they
were baboons and no longer people.
         At last old  Mantis became angry at the
things they said."Who are they to talk like this to
us?' he asked and he called for Young Mantis, who,
though still a boy, was very much like his father in
every way. 'You must go out to fetch sticks so we can
make bows and take aim at those who sit upon their
heels. We can bear their insults no longer.'
          Young Mantis went out. He went to a place on
the plain where the baboons sometimes played for that
was where the best sticks  for bows were to be found.
          As Young Mantis went along, gathering sticks
and putting them into his bag, a baboon who was
sitting on a rock at the top of the hill saw him.
          'Hai!' he called. He spoke the language of
the baboons which
Young Mantis was able to understand. 'What are you
doing there?' Young Mantis replied, 'I'm doing what
you can see I am doing. I
am collecting sticks.'
          'Why do you collect sticks?' asked the
baboon.
          'I collect sticks for my father so that he
may take aim at
those who sit upon their heels.' Young Mantis said
this because he  thought the baboon too stupid to know
what he meant. And indeed the baboon was very puzzled.
'Hai!' he shouted to another baboon. 'Come and listen
to this child. The second baboon came and sat with the
first one on the rock. The other baboons began to
gather to see what was happening. 'What doesthis child
say?' asked the second one.
          Young Mantis said, 'I am collecting sticks
for my father so
he can take aim at those who sit upon their heels.'
          This baboon was also puzzeled. He turned to
the other baboons and shouted, 'Tell the old one over
there that he must come and listen to this child.
Perhaps an old baboon will be wise enough to know what
he is saying.'
          The old baboon came shambling up. 'Let us go
down to the   
child so that we may hear what he is saying.' They
went down the hill and gathered around Young Mantis.
          Young Mantis was beginning to be afraid. He
did not wish to
speak again in case the old one understood, for there
were by now a great number of baboons around him. So
it was the first baboon that answered. 'This child
says that he is collecting sticks for his father so he
can take aim at the ones who sit upon their heels.'
          'What!' exclaimed the old baboon angrily.
'It is we ourselves
that the child is talking about. We are the ones who
sit upon our
heels. He is gathering sticks to make bows so that his
people can make war against us! You must hit this
child with your fists!'
          At once the baboons closed in on Young
Mantis. They hit him
on the head. They hit him on the arms. They hit him on
his legs. They punched him so hard with their fists
that his merrythought sprang out of his head and
rolled away along the ground.
           Young Mantis' merrythought was a shining
thing because it
was that part of him that when he felt joyful,  made
him want to  dance and sing, just like his father.
While the baboons were beating Young  Mantis, his
shining  merrythought rolled away under a bush where
they could not seeit.
             Back at home Mantis was waiting for his
son to return. He was sitting down nicely outside his
hut, warming his arms in the sun, when a breeze blew
upon his thinking strings telling him that Young
Mantis was in trouble.
          Quickly he jumped up. He snatched his bow
and his quiver of
arrows and ran off towards the place where the baboons
lived.
          'Rattling along! Rattling along!' he chanted
because he was
running so fast that the arrows were rattling against
each other in his quiver.
          When he came to the hill where the baboons
were, he stopped, then went forward cautiously. He was
filled with dread. He saw the baboons playing on the
plains below, then he saw Young Mantis lying to one
side, where to baboons had left him for dead.
          'Ye-he! Ye-he! Ye-he!' wept the Mantis. His
bright
little eyes filled to the brim with tears that
overflowed down his cheeks. 'Ye-he! Ye-he! Ye-he! They
have killed my son. They have altogether killed my
son!' He sat down on the hill and wept bitterly
because he knew then that he had loved his son. His
sorrow taught him that he had loved his son. He felt
then that he had loved him more than the eland the
people had killed for meat.
          Then suddenly Mantis saw something shining
under the bush
near the body of Young Mantis. It was shining with a
soft light and he knew that it was Young Mantis'
merrythought. Quickly he shut his mouth. He wiped his
hands across his eyes to dry them. He did not want to
waste time crying. He could not leave the merrithought
lying there. He must go at once among the baboons and
take it away.
          Pretending he was a stranger who did not
know what had
happened, Mantis walked down the hill. When the
baboons saw him they stopped playing and eyed him
suspiciously because they
could see he was not one of them.
          'Good day,' said Mantis. He could be very
polite when he
wanted to. 'Please do not stop playing. I am a
stranger and I have come to play with you.' and though
his heart was breaking with yearning for his son, he
began to hop and jump on the stones as the baboons had
been doing.
           The old baboon came close and looked at
Mantis. 'you look
just like child who came to make war on us. Are you
not the father of that child?'
          'O no!' cried Mantis, hopping nearer and
nearer to the bush
where the merrythought lay. 'I am only a stranger.'
Then he reached the bush. He leapt forward and
snatched up the merrythought and put it quickly into
the little bag that was tied to the side of the
quiver.
          The baboons saw him and gave a shout of
rage. 'He has
deceived us!' they shouted. 'He did not come to play.
He came to steal our shining thing!' They did not know
what the shining thing was but they were very angry.
They crowded around Mantis and tried to grasp the
little bag. 'Give it to us! Give it to us!' they
cried, hitting him with their fists.
          They hit his head and his arms and his legs
but Mantis would not let them have the bag. He struck
back at them, pushing them from him and knocking them
down. But there were too many baboons. Mantis saw that
he could not win against them all.
'Aaauuu!' he cried, for he was sorely wounded. He
shook off the two young baboons who were dragging on
his arms and before they could catch him again he rose
up into the air and flew away. In a moment he was
safely over the hill.
          Mantis flew straight to the waterhole. He
landed on the
ground and walked to the water's edge. He opened the
little bag and tenderly took out the shining
merrythought that belonged to his son. He parted the
reeds that grew on the bank and very gently placed the
shining thing into the shallow water.
          'Once before I put my son-in-law's shoe here
and it became an
eland. Now you too must grow, merrythought, just as
Blue Crane's did when she was eaten by the lions. You
must grow so that you
may become what you were before, because I did not
love my
 son a little, I loved him a lot.'
          Then Mantis left the merrythought in the
water and returned home. He walked slowly for he was
very sad. He longed for his people to comfort him.
          But when dassie saw him approaching she
threw up her    
hands.
         'Old man!' she cried in exasperation. 'you
are covered with wounds again.
         'Who have you been fighting with this time?'
          And Kwammang-a said, 'Ichneumon, I wish you
to try and speak again to your grandfather. Ask him
why he must always go among strangers and make
trouble.'
         'O people,' said Mantis. He spoke slowly and
sadly because his
heart was filled with yearning for his son. 'You scold
me before you even know what has happened. You think
that I only fight for the pleasure of fighting, like a
child, but it was anguish that made me go among the
baboons. I saw that they had killed Young Mantis, my
son.'
          Then the people were quite silent. They did
not know what to say. Dassie wept  and wailed, so deep
was her grief at the news that her child was dead.
And, looking at them, old grandfather saw that they
were also foolish people. He did not tell them about
the magic he had worked with the merrythought because
he knew that magic was a fragile thing and that, if
they knew, they might destroy this new work, just as
they had destroyed eland.
          But later Mantis crept away and went again
to the water. He crept cautiously because he did not
wish to frighten the thing in the pool. He kept hidden
behind a bush and looked. He saw that the merrythought
had become a tiny child. The tiny child was sitting in
the sun on the grass. Mantis laughed for joy. At the
sound of his laughter the little child jumped up and
ran to hide among the reeds.
          'I must be more cautious,' said Mantis to
himself, 'for my son does not know me yet.'
          Every day old grandfather came secretly to
the waterhole and hid behind a bush to watch, and
every day the tiny child was bigger until he was the
size of a young boy. Then Mantis knew that it was time
for him to bring him home. He made an apron out of
soft hide for the boy, and fashioned a cloak of
buckskin, and a bag. Carrying these things, he went
back to the pool.
          As he approached the water he walked very
quietly. He hid
behind a bush. He saw that his son was still there,
sitting in the sun with his back to him. Cautiously
Mantis crept up behind him. Before the boy could jump
away he caught hold of his arm.
          'Don't be afraid of me, my son' Mantis said
tenderly. 'I am your father. You are my son whom I have saved from the
baboons.'
          And Young Mantis, recognising his father at
last, sat down at Mantis' feet and wept for joy. He
felt as if he had not known his father before, but
that now he knew him.
          As soon as Young Mantis had dressed in his
new clothes Mantis took him back to the village. When
the people saw the boy they were astonished. Dassie
came running forward, singing and dancing with
happiness to see her son again, and the people   
crowded around to hear how this wonderful thing had
happened.
          'But mantis, my grandfather,' asked
Ichneumon , 'Why did you
tell us that the baboons had killed Young Mantis when
Young Mantis is here?'
          Then Mantis told them everything. 'When I
put the
merrythought in the water I yearned with all my heart
that my son might come back to me. Now, as you can
see, he has come and I have brought him home. But he
is not yet strong. He is still weak. Move out the way
that I may take him to his hut to rest and to eat
food!'
          And then no one scolded the old grandfather.
They ran to
fetch food and water for Young Mantis and did
everything the old man told them for now they felt a
great respect for the old maker of fire.
Mantis and Korotwiten


              Mantis woke up one morning just as the
sun was rising. He felt hungry and went to look for some breakfast and he
saw the food supply had run out, so he decided to go
hunting for springbok. He went back to his little hut,
picked up his kaross and threw it over his shoulders.
Picking up his bow and quiver of arrows and his
digging stick, he followed the tracks of some kudu he
had noticed not far from his hut. He followed along
and followed along, over the hills and down the
valleys, but he did not come close to the kudu. It was
hard work and soon the sun burnt the back of his arms
like fire . It was noon when Mantis found a tree to
sit  under and rest.
          As he sat there recovering from his long
trek, he saw the
Korotwiten approaching. Nowadays the korotwiten is a
littlle black bird with white feathers across his
shoulders. But back then, Korotwiten was a man of the
early race. He was a bird person and on his shoulders
were white feathers and he was able to fly and do
those things which a bird does.
       'Good day,' said Korotwiten to Mantis.
       'Good day,' replied Mantis, speaking quietly as
was proper.
'What. are you doing out in the velt today?'
        'I am collecting bushman rice,' said
Korotwiten.
         At once Mantis was wide awake. Bushman rice
was the favourite food of his people. Often the women,
and sometimes the men when the game was scarce and
couldn't be found, would go out into the velt with
their digging sticks, digging for the ant's eggs that
looked like rice. And now Mantis was hungry after his
long walk. He desired to fill his belly with the ant's
eggs so he could feel comfortable again.
          'I too wish to collect Bushman rice. See, I
have my digging
stick with me. Let us dig together.'
          'Tji!' said Korotwiten. 'I do not need a
stick. Watch and I will show you how Korotwiten people
dig for food.' and as Mantis watched curiously
Korotwiten flew up into the sky. He had his kaross
tied over his shoulder like a bag, hanging down
underneath his armpit. He hovered over a large ant
heap that rose like a red pile of packed sand out of
the earth, then swooping down swiftly, dived into the
anthill and disappeared.
          'This is very strange,' thought Mantis, I
have never seen this happen before.' After a short
while Korotwiten came out of the anthill carrying his
kaross filled to the brim with Bushman rice.
           'Wow!' cried Mantis. 'This is a wonderful
thing you can do,
Korotwiten man. I and my people have to dig ants eggs
out of the ant heap with a stick. Look! See I, have
callouses on my hands from all the hard digging? Show
me how to do this thing, my friend, for I am the
Mantis.'
          Korotwiten agreed. He rubbed his hands on
his body, then smeared some of the sweat on  Mantis'
face. 'I have now put some of the power which is in me
into you, oMantis,' he said. 'watch again and I will
show you what to do.'
          'You give me the power to see,  Korotwiten!'
cried Mantis, eagerly, runnung along beside the bird
man towards the red antheap. He watched as Korotwiten
flew again into the air, dropped down and dived into
the ants' nest and out, his cloak brimming overwith
Bushman rice.
           'I have been dreaming of this day for a
long time!' exclaimed Mantis. 'I gave my people fire
and now I shall give them this power also.We won't
have to dig for bushman rice with sticks so that our
arms ache and our hands are sore. We shall never have
to work again. We shall always have plenty to eat.'
          Then Mantis took off his bow and broke it
across his knee. He snapped his arrows in two and tore
up his skin quiver. Then, he took his digging stick
and picking up a loose stone, struck the stone that
weighted the stick so that it broke into pieces. He
would not have to use them to get food any more.
          Then he tied the corners of his kaross
together, just as Korotwiten had done, slung it across
one shoulder so that it hung like a bag beneath his
arm and flew up into the air. He hovered above the
anthill, then, feeling indeed like a Korotwiten
person, he dove down into the hill. As if by magic the
hard sand became soft for him. He went right into the
heap and in a short while he too came out with his
cloak filled to the brim with Bushman rice.
          He carried his cloak to a tree by the water
hole and sat down to gloat over all the food he'd just
got without any effort at all. And greedy for  more
ant's eggs so that he could eat as much as he wanted
and still take a huge pile home to his family, he
emptied the Bushman rice into his collecting bag. He
put on his cloak once more and ran towards another
anthill. He did this over and over again until his bag
was full to overflowing. Then he sat down near the
Korotwiten and ate his fill.
          Then the Korotwiten said, 'I must be getting
home now. I'll see you here tomorrow, and then you can
leave me a share of the food I have shown you how to
harvest so easily.'
      Mantis was taken aback. He said, 'how come you
didn't tell me this sooner, my brother? I'm
harvesting this food for my family.'
           'Then Korotwiten said, 'you ought to give
me a share because it was I who gave you the power to
collect Bushman rice so easily, and remember how  you
complained how hard the earth was to dig.'
          Then Mantis said, 'I used to know about
this. We always used to act like this when we came
across an anthill.' Yes, Mantis said  that he and his
people had always known.
          Korotwiten, being a wise man, didn't argue
with Mantis. He said, 'I'll see you here tomorrow and
we will look for food together.' He picked up his bag
of Bushman rice and flew away. Mantis picked up his
bag and set out for home.
          When he reached his hut and set down the bag
of bushman rice, the whole family sat down to a feast.
When they were finished eating, Dassie noticed that
his hunting gear was missing . 'What have  you done
with your bow, arrows, quiver and digging stick,
Mantis?'
          Mantis ignored her question but proceeded to
tell Dassie all
about his meeting with the Korotwiten and how he came
to have such a bag full of Bushman rice.
          Then the young Ichneuman asked, 'O Mantis,
where did you
leave your hunting gear?'
           Mantis answered, 'I broke them all to
pieces, for why do I need hunting gear when I can dive
right into the ground and obtain such a great feast,
enough for the whole family?'
          Then Kwammang-a spoke to Ichneumon, for he
never spoke
directly to Mantis. 'Child, tell Grandfather that this
always happens when we meet the Korotwiten, but we do
not break our hunting gear. Instead we leave him some
of the Bushman rice we have harvested when he has made
the ground soft for us. But if we didn't leave him
some then the ground would surely become hard again.'
          Then Mantis said,' Kwammang-a, why do you
say such things? The Korotwiten is an exceptionally
nice man. He did ask me to leave him some of the
Bushman rice but I saw that his bag was full. Anyway,
he invited me back tomorrow to come gather as much
Bushman rice as I can  eat and  carry
home!'
          After that they all left Mantis alone for
they knew it was useless trying to persuade him to do
something when his mind was already made up against
it.
          The next morning Mantis set out nice and
early to try out his new found power, and he came
across the Korotwiten hovering over an anthill. The
next moment he dove into the ground and brought up a
kaross full of the little ant eggs. Mantis did exactly
as the Korotwiten had done, and they both spent the
morning hovering and diving, hovering and diving,
filling their bags with the much loved ants' eggs
until, finally they decided it was time for a break,
and they both went and sat by the waterhole to eat
their lunch.
          Korotwiten said to Mantis, 'I would like you
to give me a
share of the food for it was I who was nice enough to
show you how to get the Bushman rice without digging.'
      'Tji!' exclaimed Mantis. 'Why should I share my
food with you?  You are able to get plenty for
yourself. I will not give you any rice for I intend to
take it home for my family.'
          'O Mantis,' cried the Korotwiten, 'I shall
not give you the
power to do this thing again unless you give me a
share.'
          'Who do you think you are to talk to me like
this?' cried Mantis angrily. 'You are only a
Korotwiten person and I am the Mantis! There is no
equal to me! I do not need you to give me the power
again for I know how to dive for eggs. Have I not just
done so? Dive for your own eggs, bird- man for I shall
give you none of mine!'
          Mantis refused to listen any further,  leapt
up into the air, hovered for a moment over an
ant-hill, then dived quickly downwards.
Craaaash! 'owwwww!' cried Mantis as his head hit the
hill. The ground was as hard as rock. It did not
become soft for him as like magic. He hit his brow
against the hard crust of the antheap and hollered in
pain. Furious that he had not succeeded, Mantis sprang
to his feet and tried again. Up he went, hovering,
then he plunged straight down and crashed onto the
front of his head. 'Owwwww' cried Mantis once more,
lying there holding his head and rocking back and
forth. Slowly and painfully he rolled over and,
leaving behind his bag of Bushman rice, he dragged
himself home in disgrace.
          'O Mantis my grandfather!' cried Ichneumon
the mongoose when  he saw Mantis limping towards his
hut holding his head. 'What  happened to you,
Grandfather?'
           Kwammang-a, standing near by, saw the red
sand of the ant-hill on Mantis' head and said, 'Looks
like the old maker of fire has been playing with the
Korotwiten man.'
          Dassie, shaking her head so that her ostrich
eggshell beads rattled, said, 'You silly old man! You
have broken your good bow and digging stick for
nothing, and now you have brolen your head too. Do you
not know that the Korotwiten people have theiir own
power to make the ground soft for them, and if we
honor them by sharing what we harvest, that they will
continue to share their power with us?'
          But Mantis said nothing. He wanted their
lives to be easier, that's all. He lay down in his hut
wrapped in his kaross, and went to sleep.
 

Mantis creates
Eland......and the Moon



            Just as the dawn was beginning to pale the
eastern sky and  Mantis was slowly surfacing from a
deep sleep, he dreamed of a buck he had never seen
before. It was a large antelope with a dewlap hanging
down from throat to chest, and it had long, slender
horns tapering backwards above its shoulders. The buck
he dreamed of was an eland. He woke up with a jolt,
the excitement of the dream pounding in his chest. The
sky was just beginning to pale as dawn broke. He
jumped up and, picking up his kaross, he threw it over
his shoulders against the chilly morning air. He
almost tripped on something as he walked outside his
hut.  Mantis stopped and, looking down, saw a leather
sandal which he picked it up and held in his hand,
gazing at it and turning it this way and that, until
he realised that it belonged to his son-in-law,
Kwammang-a.  As he held the leather sandal the breeze
stirred his thinking strings, and he had the idea that
he could use this sandal to  make the eland he had
dreamed about.
            While the others were still sleeping,
Mantis quietly crept to the waterhole some distance
from their little huts. He walked up to the reeds
that grew around the edge, parted them and placed the
sandal gently in the shallow water. It was always in
water that Mantis created new life.  He whispered
gently,

                                'Oh Kwammang-a's shoe piece,
                                 Oh Kwammang-a's shoe piece,
                                 Become the eland of which I have dreamed.'

           He chanted over and over until he was done,
then Mantis turned and, parting the reeds once again,
left the waterhole to return the village. All day he
sat  quietly beside his little branch shelter speaking
to no one and enjoying the warmth of the sun on his
arms. In the afternoon, when everyone was napping in
the heat of the day, he crept silently away, back to
the waterhole. Mantis carefully parted the reeds and
looked, and what he saw took his breath away. There in
the water in place of the shoe was a tiny buck, as
pale as the sky had been at dawn and very beautiful.
Mantis' heart burst with joy and delight at the sight
of the delicate creature. He loved that baby eland. He
did not love it a little, he loved it a lot.
            Mantis stood transfixed, gazing at the
tiny miracle for a long, magical moment, watching it
drink the water daintily, lick its new coat and flick
its tail. At last he remembered himself and set about
finding some food for the little creature, for surely
it must be hungry. He came across a bee's nest that
was in a tree hollow nearby. He took his stone knife
from his belt and
cut away some of the honeycomb. He found a hollow
stone at the water's edge and poured honey into it.
Mantis wanted his new buck to grow big and strong and
he called gently,

                              'Uuyuuyuuyuuyuuy,
                              oh Kwammang-a's shoe piece,
                              oh Kwammang-a's shoe piece,
                              come to me and eat.'

             The little eland cocked its ear at the
strange sound.  It sniffed the air and smelled the
sweet aroma of the honey. It walked tentatively
towards Mantis' outstretched hand, bent its head and
began to lick it up, slowly at first, then faster and
faster until it was all gone.  Mantis then put down
the stone and stroked its smooth coat. He tickled
behind its ears and whispered to it tenderly, 'Oooh
you lovely little creature!' Then he picked up the
empty honeycomb and rubbed it until its coat was
shining.
             Mantis played with his new creation all
afternoon, until the sun was sinking down, spreading a
beautiful orange glow across the sky. Eland then went
back to it's home in the reeds, made a comfortable
spot, curled up and went to sleep, and Mantis went
home to his village. He did not tell anyone what had
happened. Even when Kwammang-a said to him, 'Father,
have you seen my shoe? I thought I had dropped it on
the path, but I don't see it.'  Mantis said nothing.
He sat quietly beside his hut, all evening long,
thinking about the little thing he loved even as he
loved his pet springbok.
             Mantis wanted the eland to grow big and
strong so every day he took his honey bag and went off
secretly to the hive near waterhole where he cut
honey, placed it in the bag, poured it in the hollow
stone, took it to the reeds and called to the little
eland to come and eat.

                           'Uuyuuyuuyuuyuuy,
                            oh Kwammang-a's shoe-piece,
                            oh Kwammang-a's shoe piece,
                            come and eat!'

               And when it had finished eating, Mantis
stroked it and rubbed it's sides with wax. And every
day the eland was bigger. By the fourth day the eland
was big and strong. When Mantis called to it, it's
shiny hooves sounded 'slushhhhh, slushhhhh' on the wet
ground beside the pool as it came out of the water.
And every day, when he returned home and the people
asked him where the honey was, he would answer, 'The
honey is not yet fat,' is the Bushman way of saying it
is not yet ready to be harvested.When Mantis returned
home on the fourth day he was filled with joy at the
birth of the new buck,  and terribly pleased with
himself.  He began to dance, shuffling and hopping on
his thin legs , making a groove in the sand outside
his hut.
             'Oh, I am the Mantis!  I can make magic!
There is no one as good as
me!' he felt very pleased with himself indeed.
            Dassie witnessed this and shook her head
in embarrassment at his
boastful behaviour. The people came together and
whispered amongst themselves, discussing Mantis'
movements. They thought it strange that he
would not speak to them.
           'The old man is up to one of his tricks,'
said Kwammang-a. 'He always
acts like this when he has done something he wishes to
hide from us.'
             The next morning, when Ichneumon saw
Mantis stealing away with
his honey bag, he said, 'Oh, grandfather, where you
going?
            ' I go to collect honey' said Mantis,
avoiding his eyes
             'Oh Mantis, my grandfather,' said
Ichneumon, 'every
day you go on your own with your honeybag to collect
honey, but you return
with an empty bag.'
             'The honey is not yet fat,' my grandson,'
said Mantis a little too
quickly. It is not yet ripe and cannot be eaten.' Then
off he went suposedly to collect honey.
             After he left the people gathered
together and spoke amongst
themselves.  Ichneumon said, 'Old grandfather must be
up to one of his
tricks. If we are not careful he will get us into
trouble again with his raucous
behaviour.'
              Then Kwammang-a spoke. 'Tomorrow,
Ichneumon my son, you
must go with Grandfather when he leaves in the
morning. You must see where he goes and what he does
and come back and tell us everything.'
         The next morning Ichneumon was waiting for
Mantis outside his hut
         'Oh grandfather,' he said when Mantis came
out of his hut with his
honeybag, 'please let me come with you and carry your
bag for you.'
         Mantis gave Ichneumon the bag. He did not
want to refuse and arouse
the suspicion of the people. All the way to the
waterhole he thought about what he should do for he
did not want Ichneumon to see the eland. The eland
would  merely mean meat to the people and he was not
ready yet to let that happen. So when they reached the
water hole Mantis took the honeybag from Ichneumon,
opened it and said.
         'You must climb into my bag now, my grandson,
for I am
Grandfather and I tell you what to do.
         Ichneumon dared not refuse. He climbed into
the bag and Mantis
pulled the string tight. Ichneumon sat in darknes and
could see nothing.
         Then Mantis walked up to the hive and cut a
piece of honeycomb. He walked back to the waterhole,
squeezed the honey out into the hollow stone and
called tenderly to the eland.

                                    'Yuuuuyuuuuyuuuu
                                     oh my son's shoe
                                     oh, my son's shoe.

         The eland walked out of the water, slushhhh,
slushhhh, but Ichneumon
could not see it. He could only hear the sound of the
hooves in the mud and what Mantis was saying. When the
buck had finished feeding it went back into the reeds.
Then Mantis opened the bag for Ichneumon to get out .
He handed Ichneumom the bag and they set out for home.
         'Where's the honey?' asked Ichneumon, for he
was getting hungry and
would liked to have something sweet to eat.
          'Not yet fat, I'm afraid,' said Mantis
glibly.
          When they returned to the camp that night
Ichneumon went to
Kwammang-a's hut and said,
          'Old grandfather put me into his bag and
closed it tight. I couldn't see
a thing! But I did hear him speak. He said, '
                                       Oh, my son's shoe!
                                       Oh, my son's shoe!
         'Oho!' exclaimed Kwammang-a excitedly,
beginning to understand.
Mantis took the shoe that I lost and he has worked
magic with it. You must go with old man again
tomorrow, Ichneumon, but this time take your knife
with you. When grandfather puts you in the bag, which
he is likely to do, and you hear him calling, cut a
hole in the leather with the knife and look out
through the hole so you can see what he is up to.'
         When morning came, Ichneumon was waiting for
Mantis. Again he
carried Mantis' hunting bag and, when they reached the
pool,  Mantis again ordered him into the bag and
closed the mouth with the string. He cut the honey and
poured it into the the stone and he called to the
eland,
                    
                            'yuuuuyuuuyuuuyuuu,
                             Oh my son's shoe,
                             Oh my shoe.

         When Ichneumon heard Mantis' chant,  he took
out his knife and cut a
hole in the bag. He peeped through it and saw the
eland walk out through the reeds. He heard the same
strange sound as the hooves of the creature
slushed in the mud as it walked out of the water. He
saw Mantis feed it with the honey and stroke it
tenderley behind the ears, and he then saw it
disappear back into the reeds. He sat in the bag with
his mouth wide open in amazement for never had he seen
such a creature before.
         Ichneumon could hardly wait to get back home
and tell this news to
the people.
'        They returned and Mantis went into his hut.
Ichneumon ran to his
father and said excitedly, 'There is a creature in the
waterhole. It is not a
small creature. It is big. It is a big, strong
creature and it is for this that old grandfather cuts
honey. It is to this creature that he feeds the honey!
        As they listened to Ichneumon's story, the
people became more and
more angry. It was the dry season  and food was
scarce. They were hungry for sweetness but the old
grandfather did not bring the honey home. No, he gave
it to a strange creature in the pool.
        It was still dark the next morning when
Kwammang-a and the people
gathered  togther with their bows and arrows and went
to the waterhole. When they reached it there was no
sign of the eland.
         'Father,' said Ichneumon, 'First Grandfather
cuts the honey, then he
puts it in the hollowed out rock, and then he calls
the creature.
          Kwammang-a cut the honey from the hive,
placed it in the hollow
stone and in a voice  quivering with tenderness so
that he sounded like the
Mantis he called,
                                           
'yuuuuyuuuuyuuuyuuuyuuu
                                              oh! My
son's shoe!
                                              oh! my
son's shoe!

             The eland, thinking it was Mantis
calling, came bounding out of the water right up to
the stone and bent it's head to lick up the honey.
When Kwammang-a saw it he said, 'look, it is a buck.
It
is meat! We will no longer be hungry! We shall eat
much meat! O, what a happy day!
          With that he reached back behind him and
carefully took an arrow ou of his quiver. He lifted
his bow, took aim, and shot the eland which Mantis had
made from his shoe.
          When the arrow pierced it's side it leaped
up and jumped off into the bushes. 'After it!' cried
Kwammang-a and he and the hunters, running after  it,
followed it's tracks.
          Later, Mantis awoke and prepared to go down
to the waterhole, pleased that Ichneumon was not
around. When he got there he saw the tracks the people
had made in the sand. His heart raced with fear. He
ran to the water's edge. He called in his usual manner
with a quivering tongue but the eland did not come. A
sharp pain tore at his side as if he himself had been
wounded, and Mantis found and followed the tracks and
the drops of blood that the eland had left when it ran
into the bushes. When he finally caught up with the
people they had skinned the buck and were dividing up
the meat.
     'Oh you who are married to my daughter!'  shouted
Mantis in a rage. 'it is you  who have killed the
eland! You who have done this! I loved that eland. I
didn't loved it a little. I loved it a lot. And now
you have killed it!'
          'Grandfather,' said Kwammang-a taken aback,
'we shot it for the meat. How can a man love a
creature that is meant for him to eat?'
           Mantis cried out in despair. He hid his
face in his kaross so as not to see the dreadful sight
that caused him so much pain. He sobbed deeply, his
body shaking with grief. With teats streaming down his
cheeks he looked up and saw that the sun was shining,
making all things bright and warm.. He wished it dark
so that he could not see what had happened to the
eland that he loved so dearly.
           'O sun stop shining!' he wailed, 'Old man
sun, go to your house
behind the hills and stop shining. I, Mantis, the
great magician, command you to hide this terrible
thing from my eyes! Now I wish for darkness as if it
were night.'
        It was not the eland's death that Mantis
minded most. Death was never the end for Mantis, for
he could recreate a new creature from just a small
part of the old. And he knew that animals must be
killed for meat. What made him angry was that he, as
the creator of eland, had not been there to shoot the
first arrow, thereby gifting his people with the taste
of his new creation. He scolded Kwammang-a for not
having waited for him to get there before killing the
eland. So angry was Mantis, that he kept on
complaining. Kwammang-a told Ichneunom to tell Mantis
to stop complaining and gather wood so the people
could make a fire to roast the meat so everyone could
eat
and taste Mantis' new creation. But Mantis could not
forgive so
readily. He was deeply hurt  because someone else had
killed the beautiful eland that he alone had made.
           Mantis, however, went to gather wood,
complaining under his breath as he went, and then he
saw the eland's gall on a bush where Kwammang-a had
hung it.  The gall is one part of the animal the
people never eat. It is a small bag containing a very
bitter fluid. To Mantis it seemed like a part of his
own bitterness at what had happened. He told the gall
he would jump on it. And the gall said, 'If you do, I
will burst all over you.'
           Then Ichneumon called over, 'What are you
looking at
over there, Grandfather? Where is the wood you are
supposed to gather?
          So Mantis brought the wood and put it down.
Then he went back to the gall and told it he would
jump on it. And the gall said, 'I will burst and cover
you.'
           Ichneumon scolded Mantis again. 'Why do you
keep going to that bush? We need more wood. I know
you, you are  going to play tricks.'
            Kwammang-a saw what Mantis was doing and
said to Mongoose
            'Hurry up. We must go, for your
grandfather has seen the eland's gall and who knows
what mischief he'll get into next. Call your
grandfather and let's get this meat and wood back to
the village so we can all satisfy our hunger.
          They put the meat into their hunting nets
and prepared to go. Mantis put one of his shoes in the
bottom of the bag of firewood he was carrying. On the
way home he said, 'My shoe is missing. It must be
lying where the eland was cut up. I'll have to go back
and fetch it.' Ichneumon, impatient to get home and
cook the meat said, 'We really must be getting home.'
          'You can go home,' said Mantis, 'I will go
back and fetch
my shoe.'
          Then Kwammang-a said, 'Let your grandfather
be. Let him turn back.
           Ichneumon said, 'I wish Mantis would listen
for once when we speak.'
           Mantis turned back and when he reached the
bush where the gall hung, he ran up to it and pierced
it with an arrow. It burst and the bitter liquid
inside squirted out all over his head. His eyes
swelled up and he coul not see. There was blackness
everywhere. It seemed that all the bitterness of the
world engulfed him. But he could still feel the warmth
of the sun on his skin.
          Again he cried, 'Oh Sun, why do you keep on
shining?'
          And the sun, finally taking pity on Mantis
and heeding his words, ran across the sky and hid
behind a hill as if it were night. The earth was
covered in darkness. The people out on the plain were
lost in the dark an did not know in what direction to
walk to find their way home.  They tried to find the
path but they could not. They fell into the bushes and
the thorns scratched their arms and legs. They began
to cry out and weep. Mantis heard  them  but he was
still angry. He, too, wished to go home. Mantis groped
along, feeling his way in the dark. And as he went
groping along, groping along, he, too, fell into the
bushes and scratched his arms and legs on the
sharp thorns.
          Then the wind blew on Mantis' thinking
strings and told him what to do. He took off his other
shoe and threw it up into the sky, and as it flew up,
up, up, Mantis shouted, 'Oh shoe, become the moon and
shine in the sky so that we can see to find our way
home!
           When it finally came to rest in the middle
of the sky, Mantis' shoe had become round and turned
into the full moon which glowed in the night sky. It
was not bright like the sun, it was pale because of
the pale dust that was on the shoe when Mantis had
thrown it. And the moon's rays were not a little cold,
they were very cold because it was made of the cold
leather of Mantis' sandal.
           So it was that in the cold, pale light of
the moon Mantis and the hunters found the path that
led home. When he reached his hut he lay down sadly,
covered his head with his kaross and went to sleep. He
could not bring himself to join in the feast with the
rest of the people.

 

 
                                  Mantis and the Tick People

                                                Part One.

          The springbok had moved away and the people had eaten all the meat from the last hunt. They were hungry. Mantis and Kwammanga decided to go out with young Mantis, Ichneumon and the rest of the hunters of the village to track game. They picked up their gear and set out in the direction where the springbok, when last seen, were headed. After a long while, they came across some dried-up springbok hoof marks, which meant they were many days walk ahead. They were all tired and hungry and decided to take a rest in the shade of a nearby tree. They had just settled, after having quenched their thirst with water from the ostrich egg shells they were carrying, when Mantis, pointing across the plain to a village of huts, exclaimed,

         'Look at all those sheep with the fat tails!  These people are not just a little rich!  They are a lot rich. They don't have to hunt their food like we do!  They can just sit

around all day and have plenty of meat to eat. They have so many sheep I'm sure they will share some of their food with us. I, for one, am dying of hunger!' And with that Mantis started out towards the village.

           Kwammanga said to Ichneumon urgently, 'Stop the old man! Who knows what trouble he'll get us into! Ichneumon ran after Mantis, dodged in front of him and he was obliged to stop. Kwammanga said, 'Ichneumon, tell Grandfather these are the Tick People. They are very angry because of these sheep! They have been known to beat people up because of those sheep! Let us leave right now before they catch sight of us.'

            Mantis said, 'I'm not going anywhere! I'm tired and I'm going to rest under the shade of this tree. You go on ahead if you want.' 'O.K.', said Kwammanga to the rest, 'Let's go home. But I'm warning you, Mantis. Stay away from the house of those ticks!'

When the others left Mantis did sit down for he really was tired. He leant against a tree trunk to rest his back, and stared across at the sheep peacefully grazing. Then he looked at the village and saw a number of sheepskins hung out to dry as if many beasts had just been slaughtered. Then he noticed some smoke rising from a fire set in the middle of the huts. On the fire was a pot with steam rising from it. A light breeze wafted towards him and he could smell the delicious food cooking. His mouth watered and pangs of hunger   seared his belly. As if he were mesmerized he began crawling towards the mouth- watering aroma. His stomach was growling and grumbling, crying out for food. Closer and closer he crept.

          Meanwhile, one of the Tick People had noticed Mantis and alerted the others. 'Look at that strange man creeping towards us. Let's hide in the wool of these sheepskins. Child, you stay here and guard the pot. When he sees only a child, he will come close and we will listen to what he wants.' They grabbed their knobkierries and jumped up to disappear into the fleece of the sheepskins hanging on nearby bushes around the camp.

     As Mantis approached he thought to himself,  'If these are angry people as Kwammanga says, I must be cautious. If I ask politely for food they will not refuse me.'  He reached the huts and saw only a child sitting by the fire tending the pot.

 

 'Where is everybody?' he asked. 'They have left,' said the child. 'How very strange', thought Mantis. I come quietly, not like a fighting man at all, yet they have all run away and left a child to guard the pot. He looked around but saw no one else. He looked into the pot, smelt the delicious aroma and peering into the steam, he saw pieces of fat meat simmering. His hunger got the better of him. He dropped his bag, bow and quiver, pushed the child aside and took the pot off the fire. Taking his knife from his belt, he speared a piece of meat, blew on it patiently then ate it with relish.

      The Tick People hiding in the sheepskins were outraged! One warrior jumped down, picked up the pot and put it back on the fire. Mantis looked up in amazement. 'Where did you come from?'  Another jumped down and stood on the edge of Mantis' kaross so he had to wriggle out of it. Another knocked the knife with the meat on it out of Mantis' hand and proceeded to beat him with his knobkerrie. Another, then another of the Tick People jumped from the sheepskin and they too started to beat Mantis ferociously. Mantis gathered all his strength together and started to run. As soon as he was clear of his assailants he grew his wings  just like the Mantis he was, and flew away, calling to the things he had flung on the ground.

      'Haartebeest's children, fly away! Come bag! Come bow! Come quiver! Come knife! Come kaross!' Immediately they all leaped into the air and followed after Mantis while the Tick Men looked on helplessly, shaking their knobkerries at him, more angry than ever that the thief had got away.

     Mantis flew to a nearby waterhole and dove in to wash his wounds and recover in the refreshing water. When he was done, he got out and put on his cloak, picked up his bag, bow and quiver and walked home. His family were all there waiting for him, and Dassie said, "O my dear husband, you are wounded! Once again you have got into trouble and are hurt. Luckily you can fly away or surely you would be dead by now.' Which was little comfort to Mantis who was limping with the pain of the beating.

      Kwammanga said to Ichneumon, 'Tell Grandfather we warned him not to go to the house of the Tick People, for they hide in the sheep’s wool, then, when we come close, they jump down and beat us! He could have been killed because of his foolishness.'

      'I can hear you very well, Kwammanga. I'm tired of you getting my grandchild to scold me. I should not be told what to do by a child! I took the meat because I was hungry. So leave me alone! I just want some peace and quiet.' Mantis went to his hut and lay down in his sleeping skins. He was moaning gently because of his wounds. Ichneumon came and lay down beside him in case he should need something. Mantis continued moaning. He said under his breath, 'I took the meat because I was hungry. Maybe I should not have been so angry with the people for killing the eland, for they were hungry too and it was only the meat that they wanted to fill their bellies.' He tossed and turned and eventually, they both fell asleep, Mantis fitfully.

     He had a strange dream where the Tick's branch huts rose into the air. The sheepskins that were hanging on the bushes rose up too, and all the sheep as well as the sticks that the Ticks had used to beat Mantis floated into the air, along with everything else in the village, except the people themselves. Everything floated over to Mantis' village and came to rest on the ground outside Mantis' hut.

 

   'This is happening to the Tick People because of what they have done to me. They have no more sheep or huts. Neither do they have knives or weapons. They won't be able to hunt or cook or make clothes or do anything else people do. They will become the insects that they really are. They will never be people again.' Mantis thought as he dreamed.

      Finally, when dawn broke, Mantis awoke from his feverish sleep and shook

Ichneumon. 'Wake up, wake up,' he whispered. Ichneumon slowly awoke and rubbed his eyes sleepily. 'Look outside and tell me what you see,' ordered Mantis.

      Ichneumon got up and looked outside. 'Wow!'

      'What do you see! What do you see!'

      'Sheep everywhere, Grandfather! And huts and pots and sheepskins and weapons!

      Mantis opened his eyes and smiled. 'I dreamed this would happen and it did! All this,’ said Mantis making a sweeping gesture towards the unfamiliar objects crowding their camp, ‘belonged to the Tick People.’

      Ichneumon could no longer contain his excitement and, running from hut to hut called out, ‘Wake up! Wake up and see what Mantis has done now! Look at the houses and the sheep and the fires and the pots he’s taken from the Tick People!’

     Dassie and Porcupine, aroused by the commotion, came running up to Mantis. Dassie anxiously exclaimed, ‘what on earth have you done now? Why have you taken away these people’s sheep?’

    ‘My Dear,’ said Mantis, ‘it’s the dream that did it. Besides, did they not attack me beside their fire? I have taken away their fire! They have attacked me with their sticks beside their huts and belongings and so these things, too, I have taken away.’

Porcupine hurried off to tell Kwammanga who, believe it or not, slept through the whole uproar. ‘Wake up, Kwammanga!’, she shouted as she shook him, ‘Look what Mantis has brought here with his magic! He brought them from the dream time right here to our camp.’

     Kwammanga slowly got up and looked at the scene in front of him. He walked towards Mantis and said very seriously, ‘Father, why have you done this?’

     Mantis answered defensively, for it seemed he was about to be scolded once again, ‘The dream world punished these people who hurt me and tried to kill me!’

‘Yes, Father,’ answered Kwammanga respectfully,’ but can you at least return them their possessions? How can they live without food or shelter?’

     ‘It is the Dreamtime, my son, warning us of the changes to come. It is the Dreamtime finding it’s own Dreaming. There is a new way of being coming and the Dreamtime is warning us to be prepared. The Tick People, because of their selfish violence are ceasing to be people at all! They will no longer live in houses and wear clothes and roast meat. They are becoming altogether the ticks that they are, sucking the blood of others to survive. Just like the Baboon People have now become the baboons, for their violence towards Young Mantis. My sister, Blue Crane, became the creature of habit she now is, hunting frogs under stones for her survival. That’s what is happening. The people now are becoming their habits, for better or worse, and they don’t qualify as real people any more. They no longer have the ability to choose beyond their habitual nature. Soon, we, too, will be different. We will eat different things and lack fire.

      You, Kwammanga will live in the sky.

    

 

 You, Ichneumon the Mongoose, will not live in a hut. You will live in a burrow on the hillside with others of your kind. Porcupine will become one who dwells in a hole and only comes out at night. Even Grandmother Dassie will no longer be able to scold. She will live in a cave and run around in the warm sunshine with others of her kind.’

     The people stood in shocked silence, trying to grasp the meaning of Mantis’ strange and amazing words, gazing uncomprehendingly at the sheep grazing peacefully around them.

      Eventually Ichneumon stammered, ‘and you, Grandfather, will you change, too?’ Mantis became sad. Regret, then resignation took over his countenance. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘I will become a small green fighting insect. I will fly from danger as I have so often flown from danger. I will become a praying mantis. Our fate will be a warning to the new people who come after us, those who have eyes to see and ears to hear.’

     Slowly, the group went back to their huts in silence, to digest the message of change these amazing occurrences forebode.

 

                                           Part Two.

 

      But Mantis was hungry and shouted after the people, ‘It’s too early to sleep. Now I’ll tell you what to do. Cut up some of the sheep and make food for the people to eat. The old buck flesh we have been eating is white with age and can no longer be eaten.’ Mantis was anxious as he felt the time of his people rapidly coming to an end. Change was in the air. The dreaming was at work. He could feel it’s tapping in his body, energizing him into action. Soon everyone was busy preparing the meat and roasting it over the fire. They boiled the fat in water to make soup. Mantis, still hurting from the beating the Tick People had given him sat and watched.

     When the food was ready, he started to eat and he ate and he ate and he drank fat soup until he was sick and he was angry. “Daughter,’ he called loudly for his adopted daughter Porcupine to come. He sounded so distressed Porcupine dropped the piece of meat she was eating and came running. ‘What is it, Grandfather?’ she asked anxiously. “Daughter, I’m sick from eating too much soup. There is too much food here. It is not the way of our people to have more than they need. You must now go and invite your real father to come and help us eat.’

    Porcupine was immediately alarmed and said fearfully ‘Please, Father, think about what you ask. Do you really want my real father, the All-Devourer who eats everything in sight to come here? As he walks along his tongue of fire eats up everything in his path, including the bushes and huts and everything! He devours everything he sees! If you give him meat in a pot he eats the pot too and scorches the one who gives it to him. That is why I ran away and now live safely with you, my adopted family.’ cried Porcupine, afraid that she was about to lose all that is dear to her. If, by some miracle they escaped his tongue, they would surely be surrounded by devastation.

     ‘Daughter, why do you argue with me? We should no longer fear the All-Devourer and besides I don’t want to eat any more soup. Do as I say for the dreaming demands it! Go and fetch your real father here so I can look into his face and know what fear is!’

 

 

     Ichneumon started to wail, ‘Grandfather has been greedy and now he’s bringing all this trouble upon us.’

      Mantis was determined, however, and ordered Porcupine to put pieces of meat into a bag and take it the old man. In the morning Porcupine set out. By late afternoon she was approaching her real father’s house that was a big house for he was a big, big man. Standing at a safe distance she took the meat from the bag and called out, ‘Father, Mantis has invited you to come and eat with him. I leave this food for you to eat for it is a present from Mantis. I’m leaving to go back now for I walk slowly.’ Quickly she shook the meat from the bag over some bushes and jumped away.

     Immediately the All-Devourer flicked out his tongue of fire and licked up the food and the bushes it was on. Porcupine grabbed her bag and ran back home as fast as she could, which wasn’t very fast, but eventually she reached home camp where Mantis was sitting outside his hut. He saw her coming and shouted, ‘Where is he? Where is the one into whose face I must look?”

     ‘Don’t you see him?’ asked Porcupine, winded from her unusually hurried pace and trembling form fear, she pointed over the hill from where she had just came scurrying down. ‘See, you can see his shadow comes before him and his huge body shuts out all wind so it is still.’ Mantis looked up to see a large shadow gliding across the hill. It fell across his face and the whole settlement was covered in shade.  ‘Yes, I see the shadow,’ said Mantis, ‘and I see fire. Is Big Cousin carrying fire in his hand for I see flames burning over the hill?

     ‘No, Father, no,’ cried Porcupine, pointing to the crest of the hill. ‘It is the all-Devourer’s tongue that is made of flames.  See how those flames cut the bushes and feed them into his great mouth that is that black slit you see at the top of the hill? It looks like a cave but it is his mouth into which all things his tongue can lick up disappears. Now you can see his stomach stretching out on either side of us. It is already partly full of the bushes he’s been devouring on his way here. But he is not yet full. Watch out! Here he comes!  And with that, Porcupine scurried as fast as she could, which wasn’t very fast, to hide behind the hut where she joined Dassie who, trembling with fear, had already taken refuge there.  She grabbed the pot of meat Dassie had put aside so the children would have something to eat when her father was gone as soon there would be nothing left.’

     Finally Big Cousin stood before Mantis. ‘I have come to eat!’ His voice growled like thunder rolling over the hills he just destroyed. Mantis recoiled from the stench of the All-Devourer’s breath and trembled in fear. He immediately spun around and started to throw strips of meat to he All-Devourer. Big Cousin gulped them down. Mantis poured soup into a pot and pushed it towards the monster who then swallowed it pot and all without a hiccup. One of the flames waving at the edge of the tongue of this unbelievable creature scorched Mantis’ hand. ‘Ooooooooowwwwww!’ he screamed, spiting on his hands to cool them, jumping up and down with the pain. 

     ‘Where’s the food!’ roared Big Cousin.  ‘Here, Big Cousin!’ Mantis shoved a pot towards him and shouted to Young Mantis, ‘Put more meat to roast! Bring more soup! This maniac has scorched me. He has breath of fire and heat. He has burned me. Quick! Bring more food! He demands more food!’

 

     Mantis kept shoving food in Big Cousin’s direction, yelling to Ichneumon all the while until there was only one pot left.

      Mantis pushed the last pot towards the food-crazed monster. The All-Devourer licked it up.

     ‘Bring me water!’ bellowed Big Cousin. Mantis went to where his water bag was stashed and threw it towards Big Cousin who gulped it down, bag and all. ‘Ichneumon! Young Mantis, my son! Kwammanga! All of you! Bring water!’ yelled Mantis. Everyone in the village scrambled in fear, collecting up all the water bags and ostrich egg-shells that contained water they could find, throwing them over to Mantis who kept feeding the all devouring monster. He hoped the water would help quench the monster’s appetite. The more he fed him the hungrier he got and the hotter grew the flames of his breath and his tongue until the water steamed out of his mouth as the bags and shells broke in his belly.

     Big Cousin roared. ‘My stomach is not yet filled! Where’s the real food you invited me here to eat!’ Shaking his head and staggering back Mantis screamed ‘Get the sheep! Prepare more food!’ The people ran to collect the rest of the sheep that had belonged to the Tick People, but before they could even kill and prepare them, the All-Devourer lashed his great tongue around each one in turn and swallowed them up alive.’

     ‘Where is the food you invited me to eat? Where is the real food! Where are you hiding it?’ bellowed the All-Devourer, ravaged by pangs of greed.

     “Aaaaaahhhhh…’ wailed Mantis, ‘there were so many sheep! Big Cousin swallowed them all before I could even cut them up! Surely now the guest has had enough?’

     But the All-Devourer kept rumbling ‘Where’s the food? Where’s the food?’ Then his rapacious tongue found the bushes and burned them off at the roots and they disappeared down the bottomless pit of his cavernous mouth into the enormous belly that was growing more enormous by the minute! Down went the huts with all the sleeping skins and the ostrich eggshells and the digging sticks and Pet Springbok and every single thing that was lying in the houses. Finally, nothing remained.

     “Mantis, my husband! ‘ cried Dassie, ‘he has eaten all my things and all Kwamanga’s things, and all of Porcupine’s things. All of all our things are gone and now I’m afraid he’ll eat us all too!’

     ‘Where is the food I came to eat?’ demanded Big Cousin, now standing directly in front of Mantis. His restless tongue flicked Mantis’ hand and sent him reeling head over heels onto the bare ground. ‘Oooooowwwwww, you have eaten everything! There is nothing left!’ Mantis writhed in pain on the ground.

     ‘Mantis!’ Dassie yelled, ‘Quick! We must run away. You must fly away! If you sit there bravely you will be swallowed!’

     ‘No, Dassie! No!  All my life I have flown away from danger. I shall not fly away any more. I must find the strength to face this danger facing me now! There will come a time, and it is soon upon us, when I will be the small, green creature I’m destined to come and I will fly away once more, but now, I stand firm!’

      Kwammanga came running up. For once he spoke directly to Mantis, without using Ichneumon as a mouthpiece.

 

    ‘I, too shall stay! I who you call son!’ For the Spirit of the Rainbow was a fine man who knew how to behave. He sat down beside the Mantis.

     ‘Come, everyone! We must save the children!’ urged Dassie, and all the people ran over the hill, leaving Mantis and Kwammanga to face the All-Devourer alone.

      Young Mantis and Young Kwammanga ran with them for they were as afraid as the rest, but when they got to the top of the hill and looked back, they were ashamed to have run while their fathers bravely stood up to the destructive monster!

     Meanwhile, the All-Devourer had been scouring the countryside for something to feed his insatiable hunger and he turned back towards Mantis and bellowed. ‘Is there no more food?’

   ‘There is no more food!’ said Mantis firmly, sitting bravely without moving. The

All-Devourer flicked out his tongue, licked Mantis up and swallowed him down. Then he turned and faced Kwammanga. ‘You are a fine and handsome man, O husband of my daughter, and I shall eat you just as I have eaten Old Mantis, for I am the Devourer of All Things! He flicked out his tongue, and Kwammanga disappeared into the cavern of his monstrous mouth. Now his great belly was so great that when he moved it scrapped along the earth!

     Up on the hill Young Mantis and Young Kwammanga cried out in shock, and the people came running to see for themselves. Mantis and Kwammaga had been eaten whole by Big Cousin. They all wept and wailed for now what would they do without the fine, brave men of the family!

 

 

 

                                                                 Part Three.

 

     ‘This is not over yet, at least while I’m alive!’ exclaimed Young Mantis, drawing his knife from his belt. ‘Didn’t my father rescue me from the baboons when they had already killed me, and with his healing magic he brought me back to life? It was only then that I knew how much he loved me, and the best thing I can do is to rescue him now!

     ‘I’m coming with you, cousin! ‘Kwammanga, my father, is also in the belly of the beast! Young Kwammanga called out to Young Mantis as he ran to get his weapon.

‘Wait!’ Cried Dassie, ‘you’d do better to prepare yourselves for the battle to come. Now is not the time to go off half-cocked. Go and fetch the pot of food I hid away behind that stone. How can you two fight such a monster with no food to strengthen you?’    

     After the two young warriors had eaten, Dassie laid the blade of a knife on the embers of the fire until if was blazing hot. She picked it out carefully and spoke to her son and grandson. ‘You must be prepared for the flames of the All-Devourer’s tongue!’ and she laid the redhot blade across Young Kwammanga’s temple. He stood firm, did not flinch and his eyes remained dry. ‘You are a strong man, my grandson! Just like your father, fine and strong!’

  

      She heated the knife once again and walked up to her son and laid the blade against his ear. Young Mantis opened his mouth but uttered no sound. As she drew the blade across his temples, he still did not flinch, but tears of pain slowly filled his eyes. ‘Oh yes,’ muttered Dassie under her breath, ‘this one is weak like his father. He cannot go against the All-Devourer. When he is faced with danger he, too, will be a fly away just like Mantis!’

     Young Mantis, hearing her words brushed away his tears angrily and said, ‘see!

Now my eyes are dry. As dry as my father’s were when he rescued me from the Baboon People.  He did not fly away when he wanted to rescue me! He did not fly away when he faced the All-Devourer when he swallowed him up! I too shall not flinch but face the monster and I will rescue my father and my brother-in-law.’

       The two young warriors ran down the hill to where the All-Devourer was taking a small respite from his greedy binge. ‘You go over to that side and I’ll stay on this side. Get your knife ready!’ Shouted Young Kwammanga to Young Mantis who was already positioning himself for the double-sided attack.

     The All-Devourer, seeing them coming, stood up slowly with laborious effort so as to move the great weight he was carrying. Finally coming to his feet he bellowed, ‘I am the All-Devourer! I shall swallow these two as I swallowed their fathers.’

     The two young warriors watched alertly, their anger in check, poised and waiting for the right moment to make their move.

      The All-Devourer waddled slowly towards the two brave young people, too weighted down and over satiated to even flick out his flaming tongue and gobble them up.

      Young Mantis and Young Kwammanga, their thinking strings finely attuned to each others, sensed the moment to make their move and the two in perfect synchronicity lunged at the monster with their knives, cutting open each side of his huge belly. Like an overblown balloon bursting, the belly of the All-Devourer yielded up its precious contents and out tumbled the huts, the bushes, the pots, the digging sticks, the sheep, the sleeping skins, the water bags, the ostrich eggshells, the sheep, Mantis’ Pet Springbok, everything, and last but not least their beloved fathers, Mantis and Kwammanga , came rolling out to end up sitting dazed on the ground, amazed at the sudden release from their foul-smelling prison.

     Young Mantis, feeling the power of their victory, commanded that all should go back to their places as they were before the All-Devourer swallowed them. ‘Bushes! Unite with your roots that the people may have food and firewood to cook it! Sheep! Go back to the hills and the people who value and take care of you! Huts! Stand in your places so that the people may have shelter from the cold nights. Everything must be as before so that the people may live in peace and plenty, without the need to take from another for their sustenance.’ He spoke with authority and all that had been torn asunder obeyed him.

      Dassie quickly assembled some firewood, started a fire and cooked the food she and Porcupine had wisely put aside for just this occasion. They ate their fill in grateful silence, then quietly rested, digesting both the food and the cataclysmic events they had all just experienced.

 

     As they sat by the fire, warming their aching bodies after their recent traumatic experiences, Dassie gently scolded Mantis with such love and tenderness in her heart that it hardly seemed like scolding at all.

    ‘ My Man, are you ready now to act with caution so your family may all be safe from now on?’

     Mantis, at a loss for words, stared out over the vast plains to the west, and listened to the vibration of his thinking strings, awaiting the inspiration now needed by his people.

     ‘Now what?’ The phrase that seemed to have no answer echoed in his mind

      The sun was setting and the women started to clap their rhythms and sing their medicine songs. One by one those who were moved to started to dance around the fire, honoring the Great Creator Spirit in gratitude for their lives and in relief that this great ordeal was over. They danced for hours into the night, the full moon lighting their way as they moved around the friendly flickering fire. When they were done they one by one gave into the tiredness that consumed them and they prepared for sleep, bringing their sleeping skins around the fire for comfort.

      The next morning Mantis was the first to stirr when the sun was high in the sky. He awoke from a night of dreaming, and, finally he had the answer to his heartfelt question, ‘now what?’ As the people awoke one by one, they gathered around Mantis who finally began to speak.

    ‘Oh, People of the Early Race!  Just as we will all become the creatures we are destined to become, and we say goodbye to the way of life we have lived until now, the real people who will take our place in the time to come will also say goodbye to the way of living we have created for them and they, too, will say goodbye to the way they have always lived. We will no longer be able follow the rain-clouds, the herds and the blossoming of the plants for the food we share. Those who come after the real people will have to settle in one place to make room for the many new people to come. These people will not know how to respect the land as we have done, but like the All-Devourer will almost destroy everything that sustains them until they realize that nothing will be left for the future generations to come. They will seek the stories and wisdom of our ancient ways, and restore, in a new way, the love and reverence for life we have always strived to live. The stories of our lives will in the end be an inspiration and example to those who have lost their way and who are willing to surrender to the wisdom of their thinking strings to guide them back to a life that honors all of creation. All else will be destroyed by their all devouring ways.’

    The message Mantis delivered them was strange and unbelievable to their ears. They were glad that Mantis, not them, who was the keeper of the dream. Until the time came, however, they lived their lives as best they knew how. They slowly packed up their camp to follow the tracks of the great herds that were still their companions on the vast plains of the land until they too became altogether the creatures that the dreaming had decreed.

    
 

TOP OF PAGE