Now only Snail was left. He set out from his home, and wandered everywhere in search of his three companions, weeping as he went. His food consisted mostly of mud. Whenever he could find a stalk of grass or the stem of a water-plant, Snail would climb up to look around and to see if any of his old friends were in sight. Even to-day the snails still weep; and whenever they see a stalk of grass projecting above the surface of the water, they climb up and look around, trying to discover their old friends.



TALE 77

WHY THE CUTTLE-FISH AND SQUIDS PRODUCE A BLACK LIQUID.

Narrated by Victoria Ciudadano of Batangas. She says she heard the story from an old woman. It is known by both the Tagalogs and the Visayans.

A long time ago, after Bathala [108] had created the fishes, he assigned a certain day for all of them to meet in the Dark Sea. The object of this convention was to appoint some officers. Early in the morning of the day designated, the fishes were to be seen hurrying to the meeting. When they reached the assembly hall, they found Bathala sitting on a beautiful stone, waiting for them. He called the roll when it seemed that all of the fishes were present. It was found that the cuttle-fish and squid were absent, so they waited for them a half-hour; but still they did not come. At last Bathala arose, and said, "The meeting will come to order." After the fishes had taken their proper positions, Bathala continued, "The object of this meeting is to appoint some officers and to issue their appointments."

At once all the fishes became very quiet and respectful, for all were anxious to know what offices each was going to hold. Bathala appointed the sting-ray sergeant-at-arms: hence all sting-rays now have whip-like tails. The crocodile was appointed cadaver-carrier: so now all its children have a coffin-like skin on their backs. The crab was made a soldier: so to-day all its descendants have large and strong fore-legs. Bathala had not finished giving out his appointments when the two missing members came. They at once interrupted the meeting by asking what it was all about. Bathala became very angry at the interruption, so he scolded the sting-ray and the squid severely. The rebuke humiliated them so, that they agreed between themselves to go get mud and throw it on the official appointments. When they had gotten the mud, they came back and asked Bathala to give them something to do; but, instead of appointing them to some work, he only scolded them for being late. Angered, they now threw mud on all the appointments that had already been drawn up. This insulting act of the cuttle-fish and the squid so enraged Bathala, that he stood up, and said in thundering tones, "Now I shall punish you. From this time on, you and your descendants shall carry pouches of mud with you all the time. Besides, you shall be very slow in moving because of your heavy loads." The squid tried to make excuses, but Bathala became angrier than ever, and said, "You are the naughtiest creature I ever had. As a punishment, you and your children shall remain the same size as you are now." And all of Bathala's words have turned out to be true.



TALE 78

WHY COCKS HAVE COMBS ON THEIR HEADS.

Narrated by Rosita Nieva, a Tagalog from Boac, Marinduque. She heard the story from her grandmother.

Once upon a time there was a magician named Pablo, who had a son called Juan. Pablo was very industrious, but Juan was lazy and disobedient. Juan cared for nothing but fine clothes and his own appearance; he would not help his father. One day Pablo went into his son's room to find out what he was doing. There he was, standing before a mirror, and combing his hair. Pablo was so angry at his son, that he immediately snatched the comb from his hand. Then he angrily struck the boy's head with the comb, and spoke these harsh words: "Since you always want to use the comb, let it be on your head forever! I prefer to have no son at all. I would rather see you changed into a bird than to remain such a disobedient, worthless boy." The father struck his son's head so hard, that the comb stuck deep into the skull. By Pablo's magic power, Juan was immediately changed into a cock, and the comb on his head was changed into flesh. We can see it to-day on the heads of all the descendants of Juan.

Note.

I know of no variants of stories Nos. 76-78.



TALE 79

HOW THE CROW BECAME BLACK.

Narrated by Vicente L. Neri, a Visayan from Cagayan, Misamis. He was told the story by his grandmother.

A long time ago, when Bathala, the god of the land, was peacefully ruling his dominions, he had many pets. Among these, his two favorites were the dove and the crow. The crow was noted for its bright, pretty plumage.

One day Bathala had a quarrel with Dumagat, the god of the sea. Bathala's subjects had been stealing fish, which were the subjects of Dumagat. When Dumagat learned of this, and could get no satisfaction from Bathala, he retaliated. He opened the big pipe through which the water of the world passes, and flooded the dominions of Bathala, until nearly all the people were drowned. When the water had abated somewhat, Bathala sent the crow, his favorite messenger, to find out whether all his subjects had been killed. The crow flew out from the palace where the god lived, and soon saw the corpses of many persons floating about. He descended, alighted on one, and began to eat the decaying cadaver. When Bathala saw that it was late and that the crow had not returned, he sent the dove on the same errand, telling the bird also to find out what had become of the first messenger. The dove flew away, looking for any signs of life. At last he saw the crow eating some of the decaying bodies. Immediately he told the crow that the king had sent for him, and together they flew back to Bathala's palace.

When the two birds arrived at the king's court, the dove told Bathala that the crow had been eating some dead bodies, and consequently had not done what he had been sent to do. Bathala was very angry at this disobedience. Without saying a word, he seized his big inkstand filled with black ink and threw it at the crow, which was immediately covered. Bathala then turned to the dove, and said, "You, my dove, because of your faithfulness, shall be my favorite pet, and no longer shall you be a messenger." Then he turned to the crow, and said, "You, foul bird, shall forever remain black; you shall forever be a scavenger, and every one shall hate you."

So that is why to-day the dove is loved by the people, and the crow hated. The crows to-day are all black, because they are descendants of the bird punished by Bathala.

Why the Crow is Black.

Narrated by Ricardo Ortega, an Ilocano living in Tarlac. The story, however, is Pampangan.

The first crow that lived on the earth was a beautiful bird with a sweet voice. The universe was ruled over by the god Sinukuan, and all his subjects were either plants or animals. No human beings were yet in existence. Sinukuan lived in a beautiful palace surrounded with gardens of gold. In these gardens lived two crows who sang sweet songs, and did nothing but fly about among the flowers and trees. Their golden plumage was beautiful to see, and Sinukuan took great delight in them.

Once a terrible pestilence visited the earth, and a great many of Sinukuan's animals began to die. In his distress and sorrow, Sinukuan at once set out and made a tour of his kingdom to give what relief he could to his suffering subjects. After being away three days, he returned to his palace, his mind weighted down by all the death and sickness he had seen. When he reached his garden, he called to his two birds to come sing for him and relieve his mental anguish; but neither of the birds came. Sinukuan went through his gardens, but he called in rain. "O birds! where are you?" he cried. Thinking that perhaps they had flown away and had been attacked by the pestilence, he determined to make another trip through his kingdom and look for them.

He had not walked a mile, when, approaching a number of dead animals, he saw the pair feasting on the decaying flesh. When they saw their master, they bowed their heads in shame. Had not Sinukuan restrained himself, he might have killed them that very moment; but he thought of a better way to punish them. "Now," he said, as he cursed them, "from this time on, you shall be very ugly black birds; you shall lose your beautiful voice, and shall be able to make only a harsh cry."

From that time on, those birds were black, and their offspring are the crows of to-day.

The Dove and the Crow.

Narrated by Restituto D. Carpio, a Zambal from Cabangan, Zambales.

A few days after the inundation of the world, God sent a crow down to earth to see how deep the water was on the land. When the crow flew down to earth, he was surprised to see so many dead animals everywhere. It came to his mind that perhaps they would taste good, so he alighted on one of them and began to eat. He was so very much pleased with the abundance of food about him, that he forgot all about the command God had given him, and he remained on the earth.

On the third day, since the crow had not returned, God sent a dove down to earth to find out the depth of the water, and to make other observations of the things that had taken place on the earth. As the dove was a faithful creature, she did not forget what God told her. When she reached the earth, she did not alight on any dead animal, but alighted directly in the water. Now, the water was red from the blood of so many creatures that had been slain. When the dove stood in the bloody water, she found that it was only an inch deep. She at once flew back to heaven, where, in the presence of God, she related what she had seen on earth, while the crimson color on her feet was evidence of the depth of the water.

After a short time the crow returned. He came before God, who spoke to him thus: "What made you so long? Why did you not return sooner from the earth?" As the crow had no good reason to give for his delay, he said nothing: he simply bent his head.

God punished the crow by putting a chain on his legs. So that to-day the crow cannot walk: all he can do is to hop from place to place. The dove, which was faithful to God, is now the favorite pet bird the world over. The red color on her feet may be seen to-day as evidence that she performed her duty.

Notes.

None of our stories presents the exact sequence of events found in other folk-tales of the sending-out of the raven and the dove after the Deluge to measure the depth of the water; but there can be no doubt that the Zambal story (c) derives immediately from one of these. The Visayan account mentions a flood, but not the Deluge. In the fact that the cause of the great inundation is a quarrel between two chief Pagan deities, there seems to be preserved an old native tradition. In the Pampangan story not only is the curse of the crow attributed to a Pagan deity, Sinukuan, but the occasion of the bird's downfall is a pestilence. There is no mention whatever of a flood, nor is the dove alluded to.

Daehnhardt (1 : 283-287) has discussed a number of folk-tales and traditions of the punishment of the raven and the rewarding of the dove. These are for the most part associated with popular accounts of events immediately after the Deluge. Two that seem to be nearly related to our versions may be reproduced here in English:—

(Polish story of the dove.) When Noah had despatched a dove from the Ark, the bird alighted on an oak, but soiled its feet in the water of the Flood, which was all red from the blood of the multitudes that had been drowned. Since then, doves have all had red feet. (This detail appears in part word for word in our Zambal story.)

(Arabian tradition recorded by the ninth-century historian Tabari.) Noah said to the raven, "Go and set foot on the earth and see how deep the water is now." The raven flew forth. But on the way it found a corpse; it began to eat of it, and did not return to Noah. Noah, troubled, cursed the raven: "May God make you despised of mankind, and may your food always be corpses!" Then Noah sent the dove forth. The dove flew away, and without alighting dipped its feet in the water. But the water of the Flood was salty and stinging; it burned the dove's feet so that the feathers did not grow in again, and the skin dropped off. Those doves that have red feet without feathers are the descendants of the dove that Noah sent forth. Then Noah said, "May God make you welcome among mankind!" For this reason the dove is even to-day beloved of mankind. (This version is of especial interest in connection with the Visayan story, which comes from Mindanao, the home of Mohammedanism in the Philippines. Note the close correspondences.)

While it appears to me more than likely that our Filipino stories derive ultimately from Arabian sources through the Moros of the southern islands rather than through the Spaniards, nevertheless to settle the question absolutely more variants are needed for comparison.

Attention might be called to incidents peculiar to the Philippine accounts and not found in any of the versions cited by Daehnhardt:—

(1) A deity, not Noah, sends out the birds.

(2) The crows of Sinukuan (b), in addition to becoming black, are condemned forever afterward to have raucous, unpleasant voices.

(3) In the Visayan story Bathala makes the crow black by hurling an inkstand at it. This undignified detail may have been taken over from one of the popular metrical romances ("Baldovinos" or "Doce Pares") in which Charlemagne loses his temper and throws an inkwell at Roland (see JAFL 29 : 208, 214, 215). Or it is just barely possible that this popular bit of machinery became attached to our story of the crow on the analogy of an Annamite tale (Landes, Contes annamites, p. 210 f., cited by Daehnhardt, 3 : 65):—

The raven and the coq de pagode were once men in the service of the saint (Confucius), who transformed them into birds as a punishment for disobedience. In order to undo the punishment and to make the saint laugh, the raven smeared itself all over with ink. The coq de pagode wished to do the same to itself, but had only enough black ink for half its body; for the rest it was obliged to use red. Therefore the raven is black, and the coq de pagode is half red, half black.

(4) In the Zambal story the crow is punished, not by being made black, but by having a chain put on its legs; so that the crows to-day cannot walk, but must hop from place to place.

In conclusion I will cite merely for completeness an American Indian version not found in Daehnhardt. It is referred to by Sir J. G. Frazer (Folk-Lore in the Old Testament [1918], 1 : 297), who writes as follows:—

"The same missionary [i.e., Mgr. Faraud, in Annales de la Propagation de la Foi, xxxvi (1864), 388 et seq.] reports a deluge legend current among the Crees, another tribe of the Algonquin stock in Canada; but this Cree story bears clear traces of Christian influence, for in it the man is said to have sent forth from the canoe, first a raven, and second a wood-pigeon. The raven did not return, and as a punishment for his disobedience the bird was changed from white to black; the pigeon returned with his claws full of mud, from which the man inferred that the earth was dried up; so he landed."

For other folk explanations of the black color of the crow or raven, see Daehnhardt, 3 : 59, 65-66, 71, 369. An entirely different account of how the crow's feathers, which were originally as white as starch, became black, is given in out No. 71 (b).



TALE 80

WHY THE OCEAN IS SALTY.

Narrated by Jose M. Paredes of Bangued, Ilocos Sur. He heard the story from a farmer.

A few years after the creation of the world there lived a tall giant by the name of Ang-ngalo, the only son of the god of building. Ang-ngalo was a wanderer, and a lover of work. He lived in the mountains, where he dug many caves. These caves he protected from the continual anger of Angin, the goddess of the wind, by precipices and sturdy trees.

One bright morning, while Ang-ngalo was climbing to his loftiest cave, he spied across the ocean—the ocean at the time was pure, its water being the accumulated tears of disappointed goddesses—a beautiful maid. She beckoned to him, and waved her black handkerchief: so Ang-ngalo waded across to her through the water. The deep caverns in the ocean are his footprints.

This beautiful maid was Sipgnet, the goddess of the dark. She said to Ang-ngalo, "I am tired of my dark palace in heaven. You are a great builder. What I want you to do for me is to erect a great mansion on this spot. This mansion must be built of bricks as white as snow."

Ang-ngalo could not find any bricks as white as snow: the only white thing there was then was salt. So he went for help to Asin, the ruler of the kingdom of Salt. Asin gave him pure bricks of salt, as white as snow. Then Ang-ngalo built hundreds of bamboo bridges across the ocean. Millions of men were employed day and night transporting the white bricks from one side of the ocean to the other. At last the patience of Ocean came to an end: she could not bear to have her deep and quiet slumber disturbed. One day, while the men were busy carrying the salt bricks across the bridges, she sent forth big waves and destroyed them. The brick-carriers and their burden were buried in her deep bosom. In time the salt dissolved, and today the ocean is salty.

Note.

I know of no close analogues to this etiological myth.

The hero of the tale, Ang-ngalo, is the same as the Aolo (Angalo) mentioned in the notes to No. 3 (p. 27, footnote). Blumentritt (s.v.) writes, "Angangalo is the name of the Adam of the Ilocanos. He was a giant who created the world at the order of the supreme God."



TALE 81

WHY THE SKY IS CURVED.

Narrated by Aurelia Malvar, a Tagalog from Santo Tomas, Batangas. Her father told her the story.

Many, many years ago, when people were innocent, as soon as they died, their souls went directly to heaven. In a short time heaven was crowded with souls, because nearly every one went there. One day, while God was sitting on his throne, he felt it moved by some one. On looking up, he saw that the souls were pushing towards him, because the sky was about to fall. At once he summoned five angels, and said to them, "Go at once to the earth, and hold up the sky with your heads until I can have it repaired." Then God called together all his carpenters, and said to them, "Repair the heavens as soon as possible."

The work was done; but it happened that the tallest angel was standing in the centre of the group; and so, ever since, the sky has been curved.

Why the Sky is High.

Narrated by Deogracias Lutero of Janiuay, Iloilo. He says that the story is often heard in his barrio.

In olden days the sky was low,—so low that it could be reached by a stick of ordinary length. The people in those days said that God had created the sky in such a way that he could hear his people when they called to him. In turn, God could send his blessings to earth as soon as men needed them. Because of this close connection between God and his subjects, the people were well-provided for, and they did not need to work. Whenever they wanted to eat, they would simply call God. Before their request was made, almost, the food would be on the table; but after the expulsion of Adam and Eve, God made men work for their own living. With this change in their condition came the custom of holding feasts, when the men would rest from their labors.

One day one of the chiefs, Abing by name, held a feast. Many people came to enjoy it. A sayao, or native war-dance, was given in honor of the men belonging to the chief, and it was acted by men brandishing spears. While acting, one of the actors, who was drunk, tried to show his skill, but he forgot that the sky was so low. When he darted his spear, he happened to pierce the sky, and one of the gods was wounded. This angered God the Father: so he raised the sky as we have it to-day, far from the earth.

Notes.

I have come across no variants of the Tagalog story of why the sky is curved.

Our second story, however, "Why the Sky is High," is without doubt a Malayan tradition, as analogues from the Bagobos and the Pagan tribes of Borneo attest. Miss Benedict (JAFL 26 : 16-17) furnishes two Bagobo myths on "Why the Sky Went Up:"—

(a) "In the beginning the sky lay low over the earth—so low that when the Mona wanted to pound their rice, they had to kneel down on the ground to get a play for the arm. Then the poor woman called Tuglibung said to the sky, 'Go up higher! Don't you see that I cannot pound my rice well?' So the sky began to move upwards. When it had gone up about five fathoms, the woman said again, 'Go up still more!' This made the sun angry at the woman, and he rushed up very high."

(b) "In the beginning the sky hung so low over the earth that the people could not stand upright, could not do their work. For this reason the man in the sky said to the sky, 'Come up!' Then the sky went up to its present place."

With Miss Benedict's first version, compare Hose and McDougall (2 : 142):—

"According to an old man of the Long Kiputs of Borneo, the stars are holes in the sky made by the roots of trees in the world above the sky projecting through the floor of that world. At one time, he explained, the sky was close to the earth, but one day Usai, a giant, when working sago with a wooden mallet, accidentally struck his mallet against the sky; since which time the sky has been far up out of the reach of man."

A different explanation of why the sky went up is current in British North Borneo. It is embodied in the story of "The Horned Owl and the Moon" (Evans, JRAI 43 : 433):—

"The moon is male and the Pwak (horned owl) is female.

"Long ago, when the sky was very low down, only a man's height from the ground, the moon and the Pwak fell in love and married. At that time there was a man whose wife was with child. The woman came down from the house, and as the heat of the sun struck her on the stomach, she became ill, for the sky was very low. Then the man was very angry because his wife was ill, and he made seven blow-pipe arrows. Early the next morning he took his blow-pipe with him and went to the place where the sun rises, and waited. Now at that time there were seven suns. When they rose, he shot six of them and left one remaining; then he went home. At the time the man shot the suns the Pwak was sitting on the house-top in the sky combing her hair. The comb fell from the sky to the ground, and the Pwak flew down to get it; but when she found it, she could no longer fly back to the sky; for, while she had been looking for the comb, the sky had risen to its present place; since, when the man had shot the six suns, the remaining sun, being frightened, ran away up into the air and took the sky with it. And so on the present day, whenever the moon comes out, the Pwak cries to it; but the moon says to it, 'What can I do, for you are down there below, while I am up here in the sky?'"



TALE 82

AN UNEQUAL MATCH; OR, WHY THE CARABAO'S HOOF IS SPLIT.

Narrated by Godofredo Rivera, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, La Laguna.

Once a carabao and a turtle met on a road. They walked in the woods, and had a fine talk together. The turtle was a sort of humorist, and was constantly giving exhibitions of his dexterity in getting food by trickery. But he was especially anxious to win the friendship of the carabao; for he thought that, if they were friendly, this big fellow would help him whenever he got into trouble. So he said to the carabao, "Let us live together and hunt out food together! thus we shall break the monotony of our solitary lives."

But the carabao snorted when he heard this proposal; and he replied, "You slow thing! you ought to live with the drones, not with a swift and powerful person like me."

The turtle was very much offended, and to get even he challenged the carabao to a race. At first the carabao refused to accept the challenge, for he thought it would be a disgrace for him to run against a turtle. The turtle said to the carabao, "If you will not race with me, I will go to all the forests, woods, and mountains, and tell all your companions and all my friends and all the animal kingdom that you are a coward."

Now the carabao was persuaded; and he said, "All right, only give me three days to get ready for the race." The turtle was only too glad to have the contest put off for three days, for then he too would have a chance to prepare his plans. The agreement between the turtle and the carabao was that the race should extend over seven hills.

The turtle at once set out to visit seven of his friends; and, by telling them that if he could win this race it would be to the glory of the turtle kingdom, he got them to promise to help him. So the next day he stationed a turtle on the top of each hill, after giving them all instructions.

The third day came. Early the next morning the turtle and the carabao met at the appointed hill. At a given signal the race began, and soon the runners lost sight of each other. When the carabao reached the second hill, he was astonished to see the turtle ahead of him, shouting, "Here I am!" After giving this yell, the turtle at once disappeared. And at every hill the carabao found his enemy ahead of him. When the carabao was convinced at the seventh hill that he had been defeated, he became so angry that he kicked the turtle. On account of the hardness of its shell, the turtle was uninjured; but the hoof of the carabao was split in two, because of the force of the blow. And even to-day, the carabaos still bear the mark which an unjust action on the part of their ancestor against one whom he knew was far inferior to him in strength produced on himself.

Notes.

A Pampangan story furnished by Wenceslao Vitug of Lubao, Pampanga, runs thus in abstract:—

The Deer and the Snail.

Snail challenges deer to race, and stations his friends at intervals along the way. Every time deer stops and calls out to see where his antagonist is, a snail answers from a spot a few yards ahead of deer. At the end of the course the defeated deer falls fainting. His gall is sucked out by the snails near him. To this day snails taste bitter, and the deer has no gall.

For a similar Visayan tale see "The Snail and the Deer" (JAFL 20 : 315). A Tinguian version may be found in Cole (No. 82, p. 198).

This very widespread story is comprehensively discussed by Daehnhardt (4 : 46-97), who gives a large number of variants from all parts of the world. The Philippine forms of it may reasonably be adjudged native, I believe; at any rate, they need not have been derived from Europe.

A Borneo version (Evans, 475-476) not given in Daehnhardt may be mentioned here in conclusion. In it the plandok (mouse-deer), which has deceived and brought about the deaths of all the larger animals, agrees to tun a race with the omong (hermit-crab). The crab stations three companions at corners of the square race-course, and wins. The mouse-deer runs itself to death.



APPENDIX.

[Additional notes, chiefly in the nature of American Indian, Negro, and Sinhalese (Ceylon) variants.]

Supplementary Bibliography.

BOLTE (JOHANNES) UND POLIVKA (GEORG). Anmerkungen zu den Kinder- und Hausmaerchen der Brueder Grimm. Vol. 3 (Nos. 121-225). Leipzig, 1918.

Journal of American Folk-Lore. (Cited JAFL.)

—Boas, F. Notes on Mexican Folk-Lore (JAFL 25 : 204-260). 1912.

—Bolduc (E.), Tremblay (M.), and Barbeau (C.-M.). Contes populaires canadiens (troisieme serie) (JAFL 32 : 90-167). 1919.

—Bundy, R.C. Folk-Tales from Liberia (JAFL 32 : 406-427). 1919.

—Espinosa, A.M. Comparative Notes on New-Mexican and Mexican Spanish Folk-Tales (JAFL 27 : 211-231). 1914.

——New-Mexican Spanish Folk-Lore (JAFL 27 : 105-147). 1914.

——New-Mexican Spanish Folk-Lore: Folk-Tales (JAFL 24 : 397-444). 1911.

—Folk-Tales from Alabama (JAFL 32 : 397-401). 1919.

—Folk-Tales from Georgia (JAFL 32 : 402-405). 1919.

—Mason, J.A. Folk-Tales of the Tepecanos (JAFL 27 : 148-210). 1914.

—Mechling, W. H. Stories and Songs from the Southern Atlantic Coastal Region of Mexico (JAFL 29 : 547-558). 1916.

—Stories from Tuxtepec, Oaxaca (JAFL 25 : 199-203). 1912.

Parsons, E. C. Pueblo-Indian Folk-Tales, probably of Spanish Provenience (JAFL 31 : 216-255). 1918.

—Tales from Guilford County, North Carolina (JAFL 30 : 168-200). 1917.

—Recinos, Adrian. Cuentos populares de Guatemala (JAFL 31 : 472-487). 1918.

—Skinner, Alanson. European Tales from the Plains Ojibwa (JAFL 29 : 330-340). 1916.

——Plains Ojibwa Tales (JAFL 32 : 280-305). 1919.

—Speck, F.G. Malecite Tales (JAFL 30 : 479-485). 1917.

—Stewart, Sadie E. Seven Folk-Tales from the Sea Islands, South Carolina (JAFL 32 : 394-396). 1919.

—Teit, James. European Tales from the Upper Thompson Indians (JAFL 29 : 301-329). 1916.

LAIDLAW, GEORGE E. Ojibwa Myths and Tales (reprinted from the Archaeological Report, 1918).

PARKER, H. Village Folk-Tales of Ceylon. London: Vol. 1, 1910; Vol. 2, 1914; Vol. 3, 1914.

PARSONS, ELSIE CLEWS. Folk-Tales of Andros Island, Bahamas (Memoirs of the American Folk-Lore Society, Vol. 13). New York, 1918. (Cited MAFLS 13.) See also under Journal of American Folk-Lore.

RADIN-ESPINOSA. El Folklore de Oaxaca, recogido por Paul Radin y publicado por Aurelio M. Espinosa (Anales de la Escuela Internacional de Arqueologia y Etnologia Americanas). New York, 1917.

SAUNIERE, S. DE. Cuentos populares araucanos y chilenos (Revista de folklore chileno, Vol. 7). Santiago de Chile, 1918.

THOMPSON, STITH. European Tales among the North American Indians (Colorado College Publication). Colorado Springs, 1919.

Supplementary Notes.

1. [109]

Dr. Boas gives the bibliography of "Dr. Know-All" in America in JAFL 25 : 151.

A Sinhalese variant may be found in Parker, 1 : 179-185 (No. 23).

2.

Page 11 (footnote). Dr. Boas informs me that petate is a Mexican-Spanish word borrowed from the Nahuatl.

Full bibliography of Grimm, No. 122 ("Donkey Cabbages") is given in Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 3-9.

In JAFL 28 : 56 is a Penobscot story containing the loss of three magic objects, transportation to a distant place, escape of princess by means of transportation-cap, discovery by hero of magic apples, punishment of princess, and the recovery of the magic objects (see Thompson, 401).

3.

Page 25 (A). For a list of Hindoo stories in which the hero is only a span high, see Parker, 2 : 256.

Page 25-26 (B1-5). In a Biloxi tale not belonging in other respects to our group, the hero's uncle puts the hero to some hard tests, hoping to make away with him (see Thompson, 376).

Page 26 (B2). The attempts to kill the hero in a well by throwing huge rocks on him are found in some of the American variants of the "Strong John" cycle. (See Thompson, 435-436, for French-Canadian and Maliseet versions.)

Page 26 (D.) In a Maliseet tale (Thompson, 340) the strong hero sets out on his travels with a giant cane that will hold fifty salted cattle.

Page 27 (E). In ten of the American Indian versions of "John the Bear" are found the extraordinary companions (see Thompson, 336-344).

Page 29. With Kakarangkang's adventure inside the crocodile, compare an Araucano story (Sauniere, No. 3), in which the heroine with a knife is swallowed by the big king of fishes. She cuts her way out, saving her brother and others imprisoned.

4.

Interrupted-cooking episode. For a Negro version from Bahamas, see MAFLS 13, No. 93; also bibliography on p. 142 (footnote). In his analysis of "John the Bear" stories among the American Indians, Thompson (336-342) notes this episode in Assiniboin, Tehuano, Shoshone, Thompson River, Maliseet, Loucheux, and Micmac versions.

Bee-hive hoax. Three Mexican variants on this idea may be noted. In one (JAFL 25 : 237), rabbit pretends that the bee-hive is a school, which he permits coyote to keep. In another (ibid., 206) rabbit pretends that a wasp-nest is a cradle, and gets coyote to rock it. The third is a Cora story given in abstract by Dr. Boas (ibid., 260), which is nearest the form of the incident as found in our tales. Opossum pretends that the bee-hive is a bell which coyote is to ring when he hears the sky-rockets. In a New-Mexican Spanish story (JAFL 27 : 134-135) fox tells coyote that the bee-hive is his school humming.

5.

Parker's Sinhalese story "The Elephant-Fool" (3 : 100-111, No. 203) tells of a man who borrowed another's elephant; but the beast died before it could be returned. The borrower offers payment or another animal, but the owner will accept nothing but his own elephant alive. Through the cleverness of his wife, the borrower is able to make the obdurate man break a water-pot, and in turn demands his very water-pot back unbroken. Unable to do anything else, the owner of the elephant says that the two debts cancel each other, and goes away. Parker notes that in another Sinhalese form of this story both persons institute law-suits. He also cites a Chinese variant (p. 111).

6.

Page 51, line 41. For bibliography of Grimm, No. 183, see Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 333-335.

Parker (2 : 247-268, No. 137) gives a Sinhalese story, with three variants, which is definitely connected with our tales, and confirms my belief that the "False-Proofs" cycle is native to southern India. In Parker's main story the false proofs are five,—ass (voice), two winnowing-trays (ears), two bundles of creepers (testicles?), a tom-tom (eye), and two elephant tusks (teeth). In variant b the false proofs are drum (roar), deer-hide rope (hair), pair of elephant tusks (teeth).

For another Sinhalese story of how a man and his wife "bluffed" a terrible Yaka hiding under the bed to kill him, see Parker, 1 : 148-149 (No. 17).

7.

Page 62. Analogous to the task cited from Jataka, No. 546, is one of the problems in the Liberian story "Impossible vs. Impossible" (JAFL 32 : 413). Problem: Make a mat from rice-grains. Solution: Old rice-mat demanded as pattern.—For making rope out of husks, and analogous tasks, see Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 513.

Page 62 (3). In Parker, No. 79, a king requires a man to put a hundred gourd-fruits in a hundred small-mouthed vessels. His clever daughter grows them there. Parker cites a story from Swynnerton's Indian Night's Entertainment, in which a clever girl sends melons in jars to a prince and requires him to remove the melons without injuring them or the jars. This problem is identical with one on our p. 58 (16-17).

In still another Sinhalese story a foolish king requires a Panditaya, under penalty of death, to teach the royal white horse to speak. The wise man's daughter saves her father's life by telling him what to reply to the king (Parker, 1 : 199-200, No. 27).—In Parker, 3 : 112-113 (No. 204), a country-girl meets a prince, to whose questions she gives enigmatical replies. He is clever enough to interpret them correctly.

Page 63 (4). In Parker, 2 : 7-9 (No. 78), a king requires milk from oxen. The clever village girl's answer is of a kind with Marcela's (our collection, p. 55): she sets out for the washerman's with a bundle of cloths, is met by the king, and tells him her father has come of age in the same manner as women (i.e., he has menstruated).

8.

For stealing eggs from under bird, see Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 57-58. Bolte-Polivka's notes on Grimm, No. 192, include a discussion of both the "Master Thief" cycle (3 : 379-395) and the Rhampsinitus "Treasure-House" saga (3 : 395-406). Two Sinhalese variants of the latter cycle, lacking in Bolte-Polivka's bibliography, are Parker's No. 189 and variant (3 : 41-46). Here the thieves are father and son; son cuts off father's head to prevent identification. The stories end with the exposure of the body and the escape of the son, who falls from a tree when his mother bursts into laments at the sight of her husband's corpse.

Four American Indian versions of the "Master Thief" are analyzed by Thompson (427-429),—Maliseet, Dakota, Thompson River, Wyandot.

A Oaxaca version of the "Master Thief" is given in Radin-Espinosa, 226-227 (No. 116): it preserves a number of features of the Rhampsinitus story. Likewise a New-Mexican Spanish tale (JAFL 24 : 423-424), in which, after preliminary skill-tests, the two thieves rob the king. The Mexican thief is caught; the Spanish thief cuts off his head. The corpse, by order of the king, is carried through town, and the house of the mourner is marked with blood. The Spanish thief escapes by marking all the houses with blood. (For the bibliography of marking all the house-doors with chalk to prevent discovery, see Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 145, note.)

9.

Page 78. Not counting self. This incident occurs in a Sinhalese story (Parker, 1 : 258, No. 44). (See ibid., 259, for three variants from India and one from China.) Comparative bibliography of this motif is given in Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 149 (note 1).

Page 78. Killing fly on face. Sinhalese (Parker, 1 : 319-321, No. 58): The stupid hero strikes with a rice-pestle at a fly on his mother's head, and kills her. Wyandot (Thompson, 423): The numskull hero hits the head of a sleeping child to kill mosquito, and kills child. Ojibwa (Laidlaw, 63): Flies on baby's head "killed" with rubber boot.

10.

Page 87. Add to the bibliography of the "Magic Ring" cycle three American forms of the story,—French-Canadian, Micmac, and Maliseet (analyzed by Thompson, 398-399).

An interesting Sinhalese version is Parker's No. 208 (3 : 127-131). Here a lazy prince buys a cobra, parrot, and cat. From the snake-king he receives a ring by means of which he can create anything he wants. He creates a palace and a princess. The princess and ring are stolen by an old woman acting as agent for a king who came to know of the beautiful princess (hair floating down-stream). Through the aid of his faithful animals, especially the cat, which coerces the king of the rats, the hero recovers his wife and magic object. (See also Parker's extensive notes [131-135] for other Oriental versions.)

11.

Page 114. See Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 483-486, for notes on Grimm's fragment "The Louse." Bolte and Polivka (3 : 84-85) give brief notes on Grimm, No. 134, mostly in the nature of addenda to their notes on Grimm, No. 71, with which this story is closely related.

Three American Indian variants of Grimm, No. 71, are analyzed by Thompson (346-347).

For a Negro version from the Bahamas, see MAFLS 13, No. 20.

12.

Page 125, line 21. For "Diego and Juan" read "Diego and Pedro."

Page 128, note 3. Dr. Farnham presents a fuller and more recent study of the cycle of the "Contending Lovers" in Publications of the Modern Language Association, 28 (1920): 247-323.

Page 128. Full bibliographical treatment of our Type I, the "Creation of Woman," may be found in Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 53-57.

Page 133. Bibliography of Grimm, No. 124, will be found in Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 10-12; of Grimm, No. 129, ibid., 45-58. Bolte and Polivka are of the opinion that Grimm, Nos. 71, 124, and 129, are all related (3 : 45).

A New-Mexican Spanish variant of Grimm, No. 129 (JAFL 24 : 411-414), tells of three brothers sent out to learn trades. One becomes a carpenter; another, a silversmith; and the third, a thief. They are tested by the king, who is satisfied that they have learned their trades well. A Negro version from the Bahamas (MAFLS 13 : 43-44, No. 23) tells of four brothers who went out and became skilled (tailor, robber, thief, archer). Skill-test with egg (stealing from nest, shooting it into four parts, stitching egg together, replacing under bird). Rescue of princess stolen by dragon (stitching planks of shattered ship together).

Very close to the Bahamas tale, except in the denouement, is a Sinhalese story (Parker, 2 : 33 ff., No. 82). Four princes set out to learn sciences: the first learns sooth; the second, theft; the third, archery; the fourth, carpentry. They are tested by their father the king (stealing egg from crow, cutting it with arrow, repairing it, and restoring it to nest). They then search for and bring back the queen, who had been stolen by a Rakshasa. They then quarrel as to who should have the sovereignty. In variant a (ibid., 36-39) a nobleman's five sons learn sciences (soothsayer, marksman, thief, runner, physician) and jointly restore a dead princess to life. In variant b (39-42) seven princes become skilled. In variant c four Brahmans learn sciences to win the hand of a princess, and afterwards restore her to life. As they cannot settle their quarrel, they all give her up. (For other versions, see Parker, 2 : 43-45, 157-159 [No. 109]).

Page 136, line 31. For "Tagic" read "Jagic."

13.

In a Oaxaca story (Radin-Espinosa, 249-250, No. 137) a rich compadre tries with no success to advance the fortunes of his poor compadre, and comes to the conclusion that he who is born to be poor will always be poor.

14 b.

A Oaxaca version of "The Thief and his Master," with the transformation-combat detail, is given in Radin-Espinosa, 240 (No. 131). An analogous story has also been recorded by F. Boas at Zuni.

Three Sinhalese versions of "The Magician and his Pupil" may be found in Parker, 3 : 400-407 (No. 266). Many other Oriental variants are given in abstract in the notes to these stories (ibid., 408-410).

15.

In JAFL 31 : 480-481 is given a Guatemala droll which is clearly derived from the Arabian Nights form of our story.

For additional bibliography of the tricky thief who pretends he had been transformed into the ass which he has just stolen from the simple peasant, see Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 9. Related to this motif are two Oriental tales given in abstract by Parker (3 : 205-206).

17.

Page 161. Identical with our first task is one found in a Oaxaca version (Radin-Espinosa, 223, No. 112). No. 109 in this same collection is a variant of "John the Bear." An excellent New-Mexican Spanish version of "John the Bear" is given by Espinosa (JAFL 24 : 437-444). (For American Indian versions of this cycle, see Thompson, 336-344.)

Page 165. For comparative bibliography of the "Forgotten Betrothed" cycle, see Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 516-527 (on Grimm, No. 113) ; for American versions of the tasks and magic flight, MAFLS 13 : 54 n2; and for American Indian versions of this cycle as a whole. Thompson, 370-381. In only four of the twenty Indian stories analyzed, however, does the incident of the forgetting of his fiancee by the hero occur.

The first part of the "Forgotten Betrothed" cycle is found in an Araucano story (Sauniere, No. 9), in which the hero takes service with a supernatural being, falls in love with his daughter, performs two difficult tasks and answers three questions, and flees with her in a transformation-flight that ends with the death of the pursuer.

In a Negro story from Bahamas (MAFLS 13 : No. 27) are found the tasks, magic-flight, and forgotten-betrothed elements.

18.

Our story is closely related to Grimm, No. 82 a (see Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 190-196, for text), a story derived from Musaeus. Grimm, No. 197 (Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 424-443), is also related. Thompson (410) cites a Micmac version that agrees with ours in its main outlines,—a version which he believes goes back to a French original. A very brief Kutenai version is given in Boas, "Kutenai Tales" (Bulletin 59, Bureau of American Ethnology), p. 34.

19.

See Bolte-Polivka's notes on Grimm, No. 108 (2 : 234 ff.).

20.

Page 196. The following American Indian variants of motifs found in our stories are analyzed by Thompson (419-426):—

Fatal imitation (G1): Maliseet (wife), Ojibwa, Dakota, Zuni.

Substitute for execution (H): Maliseet, Ojibwa, Wyandot, Thompson River, Dakota, Tepecano, Creek, Yuchi, Jicarilla Apache, Pochulta, Chalina, Aztec, Tuxtepec.

Marine cattle (J): Micmac, Maliseet, Ojibwa, Thompson River, Dakota, Tepecano.

Frightening robbers under tree (F5): Micmac, Maliseet, Wyandot, Ojibwa (for Ojibwa see also Laidlaw, 196).

For a Negro (Bahamas) variant of G1, see MAFLS 13, No. 41; of F5, ibid., No. 46. In a Oaxaca story, "Los Dos Compadres" (Radin-Espinosa, 198-199, No. 101), one compadre frightens a band of robbers unwittingly and acquires treasure (sale-of-ashes incident). Then follows the incident of the borrowed measure returned with coins adhering, whereupon the rich compadre tries to "sell ashes," and is killed by the robbers. For bibliography of the motif coins sticking to borrowed measure, see Bolte-Polivka, 1 : 520; 2 : 6; 3 : 143 n.

The incident of frightening robbers under tree appears to be characteristic of the Pedro di Urdemales group (see JAFL 27 : 119-134, especially 125, 133). For the sack-by-sea episode in the same story, see ibid., 134.

To Bolte-Polivka's bibliography of Grimm, No. 61, should be added a Sinhalese version (Parker, 2 : 116-119, No. 101), which contains the rejuvenating-cudgel, sack-by-sea, and marine-cattle motifs.

21.

Page 206. In a Oaxaca story (Radin-Espinosa, 246, No. 134) closely related to our No. 21, a king sentences a gentleman to death for having said, "El que tiene dinero hace lo que quiere." This sentiment is almost identical with that found in the Sicilian story by Pitre. In both, too, the device by means of which the hero discovers the hidden princess is a golden eagle which gives forth beautiful music.

In a New-Mexican Spanish version (JAFL 27 : 135-137) the hero gains access to the princess by means of a bronze eagle.

23.

Page 213. In a New-Mexican Spanish story (JAFL 27 : 128) one of the adventures of Pedro di Urdemales is to make a pact with the Devil in return for much money. In hell he wins his freedom by sticking the demons to their chairs with varnish and then frightening them with a cross. This version seems nearly related to our story. In a Tepecano tale of the same hero (ibid., 171) Pedro frightens and beats devils with a holy palm-leaf.

24.

Page 221. Add to Benfey's Oriental versions a Sinhalese story by Parker (2 : 288-291, No. 141). Parker analyzes three other Hindoo variants which should be noted.

Page 222. Parker, No. 252 (3 : 339-341), "How Maraya was put in the Bottle," is a close variant of Grimm, No. 44. Death is finally outwitted by the hero, who persuades him to creep into a bottle to demonstrate that he had been able to enter a closed room through a keyhole. Thereafter all the hero has to do to cure a sick person is to place the bottle at his head! This detail of enclosing a demon in a bottle is found in Caballero's story.

In another Sinhalese story (Parker, 3 : 185-186, No. 222) a water-snake, pleased by a beggar's actions, promises to make him rich by creeping up the trunk of the king's tusk elephant and making the animal mad. The beggar "cures" the elephant when he tells the snake to leave, and becomes wealthy.

27.

Thompson (413-414) cites two American Indian stories, Penobscot and Maliseet, which open with the obtaining of a gold-dropping horse from an old man because of kindness, the loss of it at an inn at the bands of a rascally landlord, and the recovery of the animal through the generous use of a magic cudgel. The remainder of the two stories is connected with the last part of the "Golden Goose" cycle (Grimm, No. 64).

Page 237. To the East Indian variants of this story add Parker, No. 97 (2 : 101-104), in which an indigent man who frightens a Yaka obtains from the demon a magic self-filling plate, a ring which when sold will always return to its owner, and a gold-dropping cow. These are stolen from him on successive days by a Hettiyae, and worthless imitations substituted. Then the Yaka gives the hero a magic cudgel, with which he regains his magic articles. (See Parker, ibid., 104-105, for other Oriental versions.)

29.

Page 247. A Sinhalese story, "The Mouse Maiden" (Parker, 1 : 308 f., No. 54), tells of a princess in the form of a mouse who was married to a prince. Her permanent disenchantment is brought about by the burning of her mouse-jacket. Similarly in No. 223 (Parker, 3 : 187-188) the youngest of seven princes is married to a female hare, which is permanently disenchanted when her husband burns her hare-skin. This story and another cited by Parker, in which the youngest of seven princes married a female monkey who in the end proved to be a fairy and took off her monkey-skin (Chilli: Folk Tales of Hindustan, 54), appear to be related to the Indian Maerchen cited by Benfey (1 : 251).

For other tales of animal-marriages with transformation, see Parker, Nos. 151, 207 (turtle), No. 163 (snake), No. 164 (lizard), No. 165 (frog); without transformation, No. 158 (bear), No. 159 (leopard).

30.

A Sinhalese variant of the "Chastity-Wager" story is Parker, No. 149 (2 : 334-336).

33.

In a French-Canadian version (JAFL 32 : 161-163), while a jealous hunchback is away from home, three other hunchbacks (unrelated to the husband) apply to the wife for food. While they are eating, she sees her husband returning. She hides her three guests in a chest, where they are smothered. The remainder of the story is regular.

35.

Page 278. Our story appears to be related to some of the variants of Grimm, No. 22, though there is little resemblance between it and the German story itself. Compare, however, an Ojibwa tale (JAFL 29 : 337), in which a princess is offered in marriage to whoever can propose a riddle she cannot solve (in our story it is the hero who must give the answer to the princess's riddle). On his way to court, the hero receives magic objects. He successfully outriddles his opponent, but is put in prison. He wins release and the princess's hand by means of the magic objects. (See Thompson, 415-416.)

36.

Page 283. A New-Mexican Spanish variant of "Juan Tinoso" (JAFL 24 : 403-408) combines features from "John the Bear."

Page 284. The "Iron Hans" cycle (Grimm, No. 136) Bolte and Polivka (3 : 97) outline as follows:—

(A1) A prince sets free a wild man, Iron Hans, whom his father has captured; (A2) the prince flees from the machinations of his hostile or wanton step-mother; (A3) the wild man bestows on a childless couple a son, who, however, after a definite term, must be surrendered to him.

(B) While with Iron Hans, whose orders he disobeys, the boy acquires golden halt, and (B1) is either forgiven and restored to favor, or (B2) escapes on a talking horse.

(C) After covering his gold hair with a hat or cloth, he takes service as a gardener at a king's palace, where the princess falls in love with him.

(D) At a tournament he appears three times on a magnificent horse that Iron Hans has furnished him with, and he gains the hand of the king's daughter.

(E) He manifests his nobility as victor in a combat, as a dragon-killer, as a bringer of a cure for the sick king (cf. No. 97), or on a hunt, where he disgraces his mocking brothers-in-law.

(F) Iron Hans or the helpful horse is disenchanted.

For American Indian variants of the "Iron Hans" cycle, see Thompson, 350-357.

Page 284, line 3. For throwing of apples to intended husbands, see Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 381; 3 : 111.

Line 16. For the branding of the brothers-in-law, see Grimm, Nos. 59, 91, 97; also Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 114 (note 1).

Juan Tinoso means John the Scabby. Two French versions have exactly the same title, "Jean le Teignous" and "Jean le Tigneux" (Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 99). A somewhat distant Sinhalese relative of "Juan Tinoso," in which the hero is a turtle, is Parker, No. 151 (2 : 345-352).

In an Osage Indian story occurs the release of an imprisoned monster by a boy (Thompson, 331).

38.

Page 288. For bibliography of the question "How much is the king worth?" see Bolte-Polivka, 3 : 232. The Negrito's counter-demand to the king's third task (i.e., drink all the fresh water) is identical with the counter-demand to the task of counting the drops in the sea (ibid., 3 : 231).

Page 291. Bolte and Polivka (3 : 214) emphasize the fact of the mutual borrowing of incidents by this cycle and the "Clever Lass" cycle.

Two Sinhalese stories not unlike our No. 38 are given by Parker,—"The Three Questions" (1 : 150-152), "The Four Difficult Questions" (153-154).

40.

Page 299, "Pitong." In a Oaxaca story (Radin-Espinosa, 204, No. 104) occur the abandoned-children opening, corn-trail, fruit-trail, ogre's house, advice of rat, ogre pushed in oven. A Chile version of "Le Petit Poucet" is "Pinoncito" (Sauniere, 262). The following American Indian versions are noticed by Thompson (361-365): Thompson River (3), Shuswap (2), Ojibwa, Maliseet, Ponka, Bellacoola, Mewan, Uintah Ute.

45.

For a Negro (Bahamas) version of "Cinderella," see MAFLS 13, No. 17; for American Indian versions, Thompson, 384-385.

47.

Compare a Negro story from the Bahamas (MAFLS 13, No. 14); also a Sinhalese tale, "The Roll of Cotton" (Parker, 1 : 364-366, No. 69), in which the two women are sisters.

48.

Two Hindoo (Sinhalese) versions of the "Puss-in-Boots" cycle are Parker, No. 49 (1 : 278-283) and No. 235 (3 : 243-248). These are of extreme importance in trying to establish the provenience of our stories: for in both the helpful animal is a monkey; both contain the incident of the borrowed measure, the incident of the killing of the demon by the monkey (obscure but unmistakable in No. 49) and the claiming of the monster's palace as his master's; in both the monkey marries his master to a king's daughter. These two stories differ from ours in the conclusion: the master proves ungrateful, and the faithful monkey runs off into the forest. Again, too, in the opening, these two Sinhalese stories differ from ours: the monkey's gratitude is not motivated; the animal is not a thieving animal, hence there is no tar-baby device.

Page 336, Tar-Baby. For the distribution of the "Tar-Baby" story among the American Indians, see Boas (JAFL 25 : 249), supplemented by Thompson (444-446). For Negro versions, see MAFLS 13 : Nos. 10, 11, 12; JAFL 30 : 171, 222; Thompson, 440. Other American versions are Mexico (JAFL 29 : 549); Guatemala (JAFL 31 : 472 f.); Oaxaca (Radin-Espinosa, 120-121, 183, 197; JAFL 25 : 200, 201, 235-236).

49.

In a Sinhalese noodle-story the foolish hero joins a band of thieves and tries to steal a millstone, wakening the owner of the house and asking him for assistance (Parker, 2 : 70-75, No. 90). In another tale in the same collection, No. 57 (1 : 317-318), a gang of robbers steal a devil-dancer's box. While they are sleeping, one of their number, a fool, puts on the costume. They awake, think he is the Devil, and flee, the fool pursuing and calling, "Stay there! stay there!" This story is like our "Juan and the Robbers" (348-349). Compare also the story cited by Parker on p. 318.

50.

Since writing the notes to No. 50, I have found a Sinhalese version of the "Hat-pays-landlord" story which is essentially the same as ours, only a three-cornered hat, not a painted one, is the hoax. The motive of the hero's trick is his desire for revenge on three sharpers who have cozened him out of a bull which they pretend is a goat (Parker, 3 : 200-205, No. 226). For this last situation, compare our No. 15 and notes.

53.

In the Sinhalese "Story of the Bitch" (Parker, 3 : 102-104, No. 201) a bitch gives birth to two princesses, who marry princes. Later the elder daughter drives her dog-mother away when it seeks to visit her, but the younger treats it kindly. The elder daughter is killed by a cobra-bite because of her avariciousness. This version is nearly related to Miss Frere's old Deccan story.

54.

In the latter part of a long Sinhalese story (Parker, No. 145) a king conceives a passion for the hero's wife, and resorts to the same ruse as the wicked datu in our story,—underground tunnel, and letter to parents in the underworld. The hero escapes by means of a cross-tunnel, returns with marvellous raiment (provided by heroine) and news that the king's father and mother are happy. The avaricious king makes the same trip, and is destroyed. Parker, No. 146 (2 : 313-314), contains almost the identical situation.

55.

Page 371 (E). Probably the earliest literary version of the drowning-turtle motif (undoubtedly the prototype of the brier-patch punishment) is Buddhistic: Jataka, No. 543. This motif occurs in a Sinhalese story otherwise wholly unrelated to the cycle of which this punishment is usually a part (Parker, No. 150, 2 : 339-340; see also 343-344).

For additional bibliography of the brier-patch punishment, in many of the American Indian versions of which the turtle or tortoise is substituted for the rabbit, see Thompson, 446-447; JAFL 31 : 229 (note). Thompson (440) also lists some American Negro variants.

Page 372. With Jataka, No. 273, compare a Negro story from the Bahamas (MAFLS 13 : 92, No. 45, II). Skinner (JAFL 32 : 295-297) gives an Ojibwa story in which occurs the "drowning" of the turtle and the biting-off of otter's testicles by the turtle. This second detail appears reminiscent of the turtle's revenge discussed on our pp. 372-373.

56.

Page 379. Some American versions of the house-answering-owner episode are the following: Oaxaca (Radin-Espinosa, 184-185; 194, rabbit and coyote; JAFL 25 : 208, rabbit and crocodile); Chile (JAFL 26 : 248, a curious modification of the motif); Mexico (JAFL 29 : 552). In another Mexican story we find the episode of the rabbit crossing the river on the crocodile's back (JAFL 29 : 551-552).

In a Sinhalese story of "The Crocodile and the Jackal" (Parker, 1 : 380-381, No. 75), the crocodile shams dead. Jackal says, "In our country dead crocodiles wag their tails." (This appears to me a variant of the house-answering-owner motif.) Later follows the incident of the seizure of the foot of the jackal, who pretends crocodile has hold of a root. (See also Parker, No. 36 [1 : 235 f.] for deceptions turtle practises on jackal.)

57.

Page 381. A Oaxaca story (Radin-Espinosa, 190, No. 94) combines an account of a war between the animals and the winged creatures (animals defeated) with a race between the lion and the cricket.

59.

American versions of the let-me-take-your-place motif are numerous: Oaxaca (Radin-Espinosa, 121, 153, 183, 185, 197; JAFL 25 : 201, 236); Mexico (JAFL 29 : 550); Tepecano (JAFL 27 : 162); Negro (JAFL 32 : 400, 402; MAFLS 13 : Nos. 12, 33, 39).

60.

The following American forms of the accumulative story may be noted: Guatemala (JAFL 31 : 482-483); Mexico (JAFL 25 : 219 f.); Oaxaca (Radin-Espinosa, 195, No. 99); New-Mexican Spanish (JAFL 27 : 138); Tepecano (JAFL 27 : 175). See also Thompson, 453-454. The stories resemble ours only in general method, not at all in detail. For discussion and abstracts of some South American variants that are closer to our form than are those of Central and North America, see Boas (JAFL 25 : 352-353 and notes).

A curious Sinhalese accumulative story, No. 251 in Parker's collection (3 : 336-338), tells how, when some robbers were apprehended for digging into the king's palace and were sentenced, they replied that the mason who made the walls was at fault, not they. The mason accused his lime-mixer; the lime-mixer, a beautiful woman for having distracted his attention; the woman, a goldsmith. The goldsmith is condemned, but by a ruse succeeds in getting a wholly innocent fat-bellied Mohammedan trader executed in his place. Parker abstracts a similar story from southern India (p. 338). (See also his No. 28 [1 : 201-205] for another kind of "clock-story" nearer the type of "The Old Woman and her Pig.")

61.

Page 392. Parker's No. 107 (2 : 146-149) is an elaboration of Jataka, No. 374. (For other Oriental variants of this theme, see ibid., 149-150.)

71.

For a Negro version of a flight-contest (not etiological) between a crow and a pigeon, see MAFLS 13 : No. 53.

79.

The Upper Thompson Indians have a story of how the raven and the crow were sent out after the Flood to find land. They did not return, but fed on the corpses of the drowned people. For this reason they were transformed into birds of black color, where formerly they were white-skinned (JAFL 29 : 329).

82.

For bibliography of the relay-race motif among the American Indians see Boas (JAFL 25 : 249; Thompson, 448-449). Thompson cites fourteen American Indian versions, in all but two of which the winner is the turtle. In one, the clever animal is a gopher; in the other, a frog. For American Negro variants, see Thompson, 441; JAFL 31 : 221 (note 2); JAFL 32 : 394. In a Negro version from Bahamas (MAFLS 13 : No. 54), horse and conch race; horse is defeated, and kicks the little conches to death (cf. the ending of our No. 82). For a Mexican version (rabbit and toad) see JAFL 25 : 214-215; for Oaxaca (toad and deer), Radin-Espinosa, 193.

In an Araucano story (Sauniere, No. XI) the race between the fox and the crawfish does not assume the relay form.



NOTES

[1] I am greatly indebted to Professor E. Arsenio Manuel, Department of Anthropology, University of the Philippines, for biographical and other data with regard to Dean S. Fansler. Mr. E. D. Hester kindly furnished additional details.

[2] A common nickname for "Juan," equivalent to the English "Jack."

[3] Datu, old native name for "village chieftain."

[4] Casco, a commodious wooden cargo-boat commonly used in rivers and propelled by poling.

[5] Carabao, a gray water-buffalo used throughout the Archipelago as a draught-animal.

[6] The usual means of getting into a native grass house is a bamboo ladder.

[7] This is a common Tagalog expression, and means, "I consider that you are all inferior to me in every respect."

[8] Petate (Sp.-Mexican), a sleeping-mat made of woven straw.

[9] Cavan, a dry measure used in the Philippines, equal to about 75 quarts.

[10] Bolo, a cutlass-like knife used by the natives either for agricultural or war purposes.

[11] The usual Filipino salute of respect for parents or grandparents.

[12] This name literally means, "only one palasan [a large plant of llana]." The hero was so called because he was the strongest man in his town.

[13] So called because he used as a cane (Tag. tungkod) the large cylindrical piece of iron used for crushing sugarcane (Tag. bola).

[14] Literally, "one who can overturn a mountain."

[15] For the "Fee-fi-fo-fum" phrase in folk-tales, see Bolte-Polivka, 1 : 289-292.

[16] Literally, "without fear, fearless."

[17] Paridis may possibly be identified with Paderes, the strong man whom Rodrigo de Villas (the Cid) meets in the woods, who uproots a huge tree with which to fight the hero, but who is finally overcome. Paderes and Rodrigo become fast friends. This character occupies a prominent place in the metrical romance entitled "Rodrigo de Villas," which has been printed in the Pampango, Ilocano, Tagalog, and Bicol dialects. Aolo may be a corruption of Afigalo, represented in Ilocano saga as a great fisherman. Many legends told to-day by the Ilocanos in connection with the Abra River, in northern Luzon, centre about the heroic Afigalo.

[18] Aba! a very common exclamation of surprise. It sometimes expresses disgust.

[19] We seem here to have a myth element explaining why the Negrito's hair is kinky. See notes for definition of pugut.

[20] The root pugut is found in many of the dialects, and has two distinct meanings: (1) "a Negro or Negrito of the mountains;" (2) "decapitated, or with the hands or feet cut off." Among the Tagalogs, Bicols, and Visayans, the word is not used to designate a night-appearing demon or monster. Tag. cafre, which is equivalent to Iloc. pugut, is Spanish for Kaffir. Blumentritt defines cafre thus: "Nombre arabe (kafir), importado por los Espanoles o Portugueses; lo dan los campesinos Tagalos de la provincia de Tayabas a un duende antropofago, al que no gusta la sal. En las provincias Ilocanas denominan asi los Espanoles al Pugot."

Speaking of the demons and spirits of northern India, W. Crooke writes (1 : 138) that "some of the Bhut [= pugut ?], like the Kafari [= cafre ?], the ghost of a murdered Negro, are black, and are particularly dreaded."

[21] For full translation, see Jataka, ed. by E. B. Cowell (Cambridge University Press, 1895), 2 : 207-215; and FLJ 3 : 337 f. See also C. H. Tawney's discussion of the story in the Journal of Philology, 12 : 112-119.

[22] Camisa china, a thin native coat-shirt worn outside the trousers.

[23] Patianac, mischievous birth-spirits that live in the woods and fields, and lead travellers astray at night.

[24] Pagui, the sting-ray, or skate-fish. Its tail is very efficacious against evil spirits and witches, according to native belief.

[25] Tuba. a wine distilled from the coco and other palm trees.

[26] Typhoon (Ar. tufan), a wind of cyclonic force and extraordinary violence.

[27] Literally, "Give us here in the ceiling some good food."

[28] Manglalabas, literally, "the one who appears;" i.e., apparition.

[29] Barrio, a small collection of houses forming a kind of suburb to a town.

[30] Mangkukulam, an old woman endowed with the powers of a witch.

[31] Paragos, a kind of rude, low sledge drawn by carabaos and used by farmers.

[32] Pipit, a tiny bird.

[33] Why peso, I cannot say. A hole the size of a peso would accommodate a rope, but hardly a man or a large tub. The story is clearly imperfect in many respects.

[34] Mankukulam, see note 1, p. 53.

[35] As Mr. Gardner notes, a chap-book form of "Aladdin" exists in Tagalog. The full title of my copy runs thus (in translation): "The Wonderful story of Aladin, who got possession of the Marvelous Lamp, and of his Marriage with the Princess of China the Great. Manila, 1901. (Pp. 127.)" W. Retana, in his "Aparato Bibliografico" (Madrid, 1906), cites an edition before 1898 (see item No. 4161). The story has also been printed in the Pampango, Ilocano, Bicol, and Visayan dialects.

[36] From the Spanish corredor ("runner").

[37] From the Spanish mirador ("seer, gazer").

[38] A Tagalog boys' game played in the streets, with lines marked off by water (tubig).

[39] From the Spanish puntador ("gunner").

[40] From the Spanish cargador ("carrier").

[41] From the Spanish soplador ("ventilator, blower").

[42] From the Spanish oidor ("hearer"). These six proper names are given here exactly as they appear in the original narrative. Strictly speaking, they are not derivatives from the Spanish: they merely suggest the Spanish words from which they have been coined as patronymics.

[43] Tuma, Tagalog, Pampangan, and Malayan for "louse."

[44] Perhaps from the Spanish conocer ("to know, understand"). For the names of the other companions, see footnotes to the preceding tale.

[45] In Spanish this word means "witch, sorceress."

[46] Whether or not these powers reside in the men themselves, who have acquired them through practice, or in magic objects which they find or are presented with. Benfey (loc. cit., p. 969) makes two distinct cycles on an entirely different basis from mine, both derived from India: the one telling of the extraordinary endowments of men; the other, of extraordinary properties of objects (i.e., magic objects). It seems to me a mistake, however, to make a cycle of this second group, for magic articles are only machinery in a story. A family of folk-tales cannot turn merely on things; the magic objects are only latently powerful until guided and controlled by the human hero.

[47] For example, "The Grateful Dead," "John the Bear," "The Child and the Hand," "The Ransomed Woman," etc.

[48] The most recent investigation of this cycle that I know of is that of W. E. Farnham in connection with the sources of Chaucer's "Parlement of Foules" (in Publications of the Modem Language Association, 32 : 502-513 [1917]). Dr. Farnham has named the cycle "The Contending Lovers," the stories of which, he says, fall into six clearly marked types. My discussion of the cycle may require some modification in the light of his study; but I have printed it here as I wrote it, some two years before Dr. Farnham's article came to my notice.

[49] For practically this identical judgment, see the Dsanglun (St. Petersburg, 1843), p. 94 (cited by Benfey, 1 : 396, note 2).

[50] Tag. for "rich."

[51] Tag. for "poor."

[52] A native dug-out or canoe.

[53] A Spanish word meaning "a woman who keeps a little shop or store [tienda]."

[54] Canamo, ordinarily a kind of coarse cloth made from hemp. Here the word probably means the thread from which hempen ropes are made.

[55] Darak, "bran, shorts, chaff."

[56] Mungo. a small legume about the size and shape of a lentil. Same as mongo.

[57] Carreton, a heavy two-wheeled springless cart drawn by a carabao.

[58] Hacienda, a ranch of considerable extent. The fact of Pedro's living at some distance from the doctor might account for the success of the ruse.

[59] Chupa, a measure, equal roughly to about four handfuls of raw rice.

[60] Camotes, sweet potatoes.

[61] Mongo, a variety of legume slightly smaller than the lentil (same as mungo).

[62] This episode is found in a Tagalog folk-tale collected by Gardner (JAFL 20 : 304). This folk-tale, it might be noted, is based directly on a corrido, The Story of the Life of Dona Maria of Murcia, Manila, 1909. The romance has been printed in Pampango and Tagalog. Retana (No. 4166) mentions an edition between 1860 and 1898, and one dated 1901 (No. 4307).

[63] I have the text and a complete English paraphrase of a Tagalog metrical romance which combines incidents from this story with incidents from "The Adarna Bird" (supra). The romance is entitled "The Story of the Life of King Don Luis, his Three Sons, and Queen Mora. Manila 1906." Retana (Nos. 4190, 4362) cites editions 1860-98 and 1902. This story contains the quest for the water of healing, the two hermits, the flight on the eagle's back, the sleeping enchanted queen, the stolen favor and the theft of the slipper, the ransoming of the two older brothers, their treachery, the hero disguised as servant in his father's palace, the invasion by the magic queen and her recovery of her lover the hero. This story is closely related to Groome No. 55. Compare also Groome's summary of Vernaleken's Austrian story of the "Accursed Garden" (p. 232), which in some respects resembles this Filipino romance more closely than does the Gypsy tale.

[64] These were the leaves of a plant which the Tagalogs call Colis (see note 2, p. 285).

[65] Tulisanes, highway robbers or bandits.

[66] Salop, a dry measure of about fifteen centimetres cube.

[67] Carreton, a heavy two-wheeled springless cart.

[68] Sirena, a beautiful enchantress, half woman and half fish, who was supposed to dwell in certain rivers. This belief is fairly common in La Laguna province, especially in the town of Pagsanjan.

[69] One of the most common Tagalog proverbs.

[70] Novena, a devotion consisting of prayers held for nine consecutive days and asking for some special favor.

[71] Novenario, the act of performing or holding a novena.

[72] There seems to be an inconsistency here,—Clara was the mother of Ido,—or, if not an inconsistency (there might be two Claras), at least a useless and confusing repetition of names.

[73] Cintas, a holy belt worn by women.

[74] See note 1 on pagui ("sting-ray"), p. 43.

[75] Guachinango, defined by the narrator as "vagabond." The word is used in Cuba as a nickname for the natives of Mexico.

[76] While the term duende is Spanish, the other three spirits mentioned—tigbalang, iki, mananangal—are good old native demons.

[77] See footnote 1, p. 217.

[78] Same as the Cuban isabelina.

[79] The episode of a mutual cure being effected by a blind man and a lame man, we have already met with in two of the versions of our No. 6.

[80] It may be noted, in passing, that among certain of the Tagalogs the pestilence (cholera particularly) is personified as an old woman dressed in black, who goes about the town at night knocking for admittance. If any one pays attention to her summons, the result is fatal to him. This evil spirit is known as salut.

[81] That is, "Purse, spit money from your throat!"

[82] Compadre and comadre, the godfather and godmother of one's child.

[83] That is, "Goat, leap about!"

[84] That is, "Table, spread yourself!"

[85] That is, "Cane, whip!"

[86] (Spanish) "At him, cudgel!"

[87] Capitan. In the Philippines this word is used as a title of address to a justice of the peace (gobernadorcillo). It is also used to designate the office itself.

[88] "Golden," in this story, does not mean merely "of the color of gold," but also "made of gold."

[89] Banca, a native dug-out.

[90] Boroka, apparently a corruption of the Spanish bruja ("witch").

[91] Coles,—Memecylon edule Roxb. (Melastomata taceae), a common and widely distributed shrub in the forests, with small purple flowers and small black or purple berries. It is found in the Indo-Malayan region generally.

[92] For this very old symbol of beauty and noble lineage, see Prato, Zeitschrift fuer Volkskunde, 5 : 376; 6 : 28.

[93] Mangrove tree.

[94] The Filipinos have many mocking children's rhymes making fun of personal deformities, such as pock-marks, cross-eyes, very black skin, etc. They always raise a laugh when recited.

[95] The Arabian story, I believe, is well worth study in connection with the theory of the Buddhistic origin of this cycle. The role of the ape; the conflict between the good and bad jinn, the ape belonging with the latter group; and the narrator's statement, "All this I have received from the bounty of God, whose name be exalted!"—suggest at the base of this version the struggle between Buddhism and Mohammedanism; with Mohammedanism triumphant, of course.

[96] Bayluhan (from the Spanish baile), "a dancing-party." Katapusan (Tag.; from tapus, "end, finish"), a fiesta given nine days after the death of an adult, or three days after the death of a child.

[97] Silong, the ground floor of a Filipino house. Usually it has only a dirt floor, and is not finished off.

[98] The narrator has probably made the original episode a little more delicate here. There are inconsistencies in the present form of the story: a lizard would feel cold, not hot; besides, it would hardly remain clinging to Juan's coat as he rushed through the forest. Clearly, something other than a lizard fell on Juan.

[99] Tuntung is the earthen cover of an earthen pot. The verb derived from it, tuntungan, has two meanings: one is "to cover something," the other is: to step on or over something." Hence Juan's mistake.

[100] Unfortunately this work is inaccessible at present, and I am unable to indicate definitely its episodes. It contains nothing unique, however.

[101] Mangla, big land-crabs.

[102] Cagang, small land-crabs.

[103] Bataktak, non-edible frogs.

[104] Hu-man, land-snails.

[105] Aninipot, fireflies.

[106] Lamoc, mosquitoes.

[107] Camanchile, Pithecolobium dulce Benth. (Leguminosae), a native of tropical America; introduced into the Philippines by the Spaniards probably in the first century of Spanish occupation; now thoroughly naturalized and widely distributed in the Archipelago.

[108] Bathala, the Supreme Being of the ancient Tagalogs.

[109] This and the serial numbers following refer to corresponding numbers of tales.

THE END