 Nandi was a poor widow with no sons to herd cattle; only a daughter to help in the fields. When the umdoni trees were full of flowers they dug for amadumbe (tubers) to eat with their porridge. In Fall, when there were no flowers, they collected the berries and traded them for dried goat meat or sour milk.
One summer day, Nandi went to gather berries but couldn’t find any. When she heard a hissing sound she looked up and saw Snake, who’d wound itself around the tree, eating berries. She called out to it. “You are eating all the berries. What will my daughter and I have for trading if there are none left for us? Snake slithered down the trunk of the tree. Nandi was frightened but she needed the berries. “You have to give me something in exchange for the berries,” hissed Snake. “If I give you a basketful, will you give me your daughter?” “Yes,” said Nandi, thinking only of her need for berries. But once her basket was full, she was horrified at what she had promised. She decided not to go straight home, but to follow a difficult route in hopes Snake would not find her and her daughter. Although the way was challenging, Snake managed to follow her to the hut. When Nandi saw Snake, she began to cry. “I’m sorry Snake. I cannot allow my daughter to go with you.” Nandi’s daughter heard the story and told her mother, “A promise is a promise. You must give me to Snake.” She reached out to Snake and said, “I will give you food and something to drink.” Then she made a bed for them. During the night Nandi had trouble sleeping. She was upset at what she had done. Upset that Snake had found his way to their hut despite her efforts to keep him away. As she got up, she heard voices. Not knowing who was talking, she crept out of her blanket and quietly moved toward the bed of her daughter and Snake. She was amazed to see a fine-looking young man sitting next to her daughter who was weaving beads into a wedding pattern. She wondered if she was dreaming but knew she was not when she heard their tender words, saw their loving looks. Then, Nandi saw the coiled-up snakeskin. Without knowing why, she picked it up and threw it into the fire. Watching the embers, she heard Snake say, “An evil magician cast a spell on me. It could only be broken by a young woman who agreed to marry me and a woman wise enough to burn my skin.” The mother looked at her daughter, radiant with love. She turned to the fine-looking young man and said, “Welcome home.”
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 An old woman lived far away from town in a little hut nestled against the side of a high mountain. During the day she gathered wood and warmed herself at night by building a fire. One night, a horrible creature called out to her. It sounded like a person so she opened the door. Although the old woman was afraid of the terrifying creature, there was nothing she could say or do to keep it out so she let it in.
Because she was so frightened, as she invited the creature to warm itself, she asked, “What scares you the most?” It replied, “Brush growing in a thicket. What are you most scared of, Granny?” The old woman thought for a moment. “Rice cakes and gold coins.” Not knowing what to do, she gave the creature a bit to eat. Finally, it left. The old woman decided to stack thick green boughs around the outside of her house to keep it away. She hardly slept, waiting for morning to carry out her plan. The next night the creature came again and found the brush stacked against the house but there was none on the roof. Furious, it yelled, “I’ll get even with you old woman.” The creature got a bag of gold coins and then bought rice cakes. It carried them to the old woman’s hut, climbed on to the roof, and threw the rice cakes down her chimney. “Oh,” cried the old woman, pretending to be afraid, “I am so frightened.” When the creature threw the little gold coins, she remained silent. The creature called out to the old woman, “Are you still alive?” No response. It yelled again, even louder. No response. The creature decided she had died of fright and ran away. The old woman used the money to move into the village and shared the rice cakes with her neighbors.  There was once a man who wanted to buy himself a pair of shoes. He measured his feet, then wrote the measurements down. When he got to the market, he discovered he had left the measurements at home. After he found the shoes he wanted he went home to get the measurements. When he returned, the marketplace was closed. He could not buy the shoes. When he told a friend what happened, the friend asked, “Why didn’t you use your own foot?” Shaking his head, he said, sadly, “I kept thinking about the measurements rather than my foot.”  Early in the Dreamtime there lived a young woman who decided to leave her village because the elders would not allow her to marry the man of her choice. When no one was looking, she ran away and hid in a place of rocks where there was little food and water. She barely slept and was hungry and thirsty, but she was not willing to return to her people and a marriage she did not want. When she saw the men coming to take her back by force, she ran even further into the barren land. Bruised by stones and branches, exhausted from hunger, thirst, and lack of sleep, she was near death. Still, she kept moving. Any life was better than what she’d known. Her ancestor spirits became so concerned they gently lifted her into a quiet place in the sky world where she would be safe. She slept peacefully for a long time, undisturbed. When she awoke, she found food and water. She lit a camp fire. Although she was alone, she was not afraid, only grateful she was warm and safe. For a while she continued to be angry at the elders who would not let her live as she chose, but as she looked down, she saw that most of the men and women were sad she had left. Her heart began to soften. She felt a bit homesick but was now part of the sky world and could not return to where she had lived. She asked herself, “What can I do? I cannot return yet I would like to help them.” As she kept looking at her people, she noticed they were often cold. Busy with chores, they had no time to warm themselves at the camp fire. She decided to make her fire so big it would warm the people down below. All day she gave heat to her people. At night she let her fire die down because they were able to sit by their own fires. When she saw how much this pleased and comforted them, she lit her fire afresh every morning. Soon, they began to look up each day for her sky-world fire. All the peoples of the earth became grateful for the warmth and light it gave them. They called it sun.  Tortoise decided wisdom was more precious than gold and began to collect wisdom wherever he went, from whomever he met. Whenever he discovered a bit of wisdom he put it into a large pot. For days and weeks and months and years he collected what he found and heard until the pot was full. Tortoise believed all the wisdom in the world belonged to him. Eventually he grew afraid someone would try to steal it. He spent days wondering where and how he could hide the pot so no one would find it. After thinking about possible hiding places, he decided to put it high up in a tree, snuggled in its branches. Tortoise put the pot in his arms and tried to climb the tree. He could not. He put the pot in his left arm and used his right arm but still could not climb. He put the pot in his right arm and tried to climb but he could not. While Tortoise was trying to climb the tree, his son was watching. “Papa,” he said, “why don’t you tie the pot to your back. Then you can use your arms to climb. Tortoise shook his head. “Small child, do you think you know more than your father?” His son replied, “Try it, Papa.” Tortoise tied the pot on his back. Much to his vexation he was able to climb the tree with no problem. He sat on a branch of the tree, holding his pot, feeling sad and disappointed. He said to a little bird perched next to him. “I thought I collected all the wisdom in the world and yet my son has wisdom I did not have.” After sitting for a while, thinking about his pot of wisdom, he pushed the pot off the branch. It fell down, hitting the earth, smashing into bits and pieces, scattering wisdom everywhere.  When Sacaibou was walking across a plain he noticed something white covering a tree branch and realized it was a cotton tree. He took some of the seeds home and planted them. Much to his delight, they were growing into fine trees when he left to go on a hunting trip. When he returned, to his dismay, he found the trees had been torn up. He planted more, but each time he left, he came back to find they had been destroyed. As there was no one around but his son, Rairou, Sacaibou realized he was the one tearing up the trees and decided to punish him. He found a large armadillo (tatu) and put glue on its tail. He told the armadillo to go into its hole but leave its tail sticking out. Soon Rairou came by, saw the tail and thought the armadillo would make a fine dinner. He tried to pull it out but the armadillo was so strong it dragged Rairou into the hole and took him deep into the earth. When Rairou managed to free himself, he wandered around, meeting many different women and men. Just as he was wondering how to return to earth, some kind and handsome people showed him the way home. While Rairou was underground, Sacaibou’s trees grew and bore fruit. He was able to spin the bolls into thread. When Rairou reappeared, he told his father about his journey, all the while thinking about a way to revenge his father’s punishment. “Why don’t we bring up some of those beautiful people to live on the earth?” suggested Rairou. Sacaibou agreed. Rairou went down into the hole of the tatu while Sacaibou sat at the opening and let down a long strong thread of his cotton. After a while, he felt something light and quickly pulled up a man and a woman. Sacaibou saw kindness and beauty in their faces and smiled as they walked away. He dropped the line again, feeling a new and heavier pull. This time there were four ordinary looking men and women. He shrugged, watching them make their way into the world. Sacaibou dropped the line for a third time. It took him a while to pull the heavy bundle of people to the top, surprised to find six disagreeable people. Before he knew what to think, Rairou climbed up and said to his father, “This is my revenge. You will never be able to cover the earth with only good people. There will always be different sorts.” Sacaibou sat on the ground as the sun set. He thought about what happened.  There was once an old woman who lived quietly with her two dogs. One day she decided to visit her only relative, a great-granddaughter. Just before she left, she told her dogs to stay close to home and not wander. She’d been walking for a while when she met a fox. “Hey old woman, I’m going to eat you.” “Wait,” said the woman. “If you eat me now, all you’ll have is a bit of skin and bones. I’m on my way to see my great-granddaughter who will feed me well. Why don’t you wait until I return home? There will be more of me to eat.” The fox agreed. The old woman continued walking. All of a sudden a tiger jumped out, licking his lips. “Hey old woman, I’m going to eat you.” “You don’t want to eat me now, I’m nothing but skin and bones. Wait until I come back from visiting my great-granddaughter. She’ll fatten me up with delicious food.” The tiger agreed. She was close to her granddaughter’s house when a bear spotted her. “Old woman, I’m going to eat you.” The old woman looked at the bear and said, “If you eat me now you’ll feast on skin and bones. Wait until I come back from visiting my great-granddaughter. She’ll feed me well and I’ll be nice and plump.” The bear agreed. The old woman had a wonderful time with her great-granddaughter, who fed her delicious food. When she was preparing to leave, she told her about the fox, tiger, and bear who were waiting to eat her. Her great-granddaughter said, “Don’t worry. I will put you into a hollowed-out gourd with a bit to eat. All they will see is a weather-beaten gourd and you will be safe.” The old woman got into the gourd, settled herself comfortably, and was given a good push that sent it rolling toward her home. Soon the bear, who was waiting for the old woman, saw the gourd but didn’t find the woman inside, nor did it seem good to eat so he gave it a strong push and it rolled away. When the tiger saw the gourd, he sighed. Nothing to eat. He gave it a mighty push and it rolled away. When the fox saw the gourd, he wondered what was inside and gave it a strong kick. The shell broke open and out fell the old woman. “Hey old woman, you can’t trick me again, I’m going to eat you now.” The old woman said, “Of course, but it’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we go sit on top of that hill and I’ll share my rice with you.” When they were on top of the hill, she called to her dogs. “Quickly! Come to me!” Suddenly two enormous dogs rushed to the old woman and snarled at the fox, baring their teeth, barking furiously. Terrified, the fox ran away as fast as he could. The old woman and the dogs walked home in peace.  Little Duck lived in a pond with her family and lots of other young ducks. They were constantly warned, “Never, ever leave our pond. Downstream lives a monster just waiting to eat you . . . or worse.” “What does a monster look like?” asked Little Duck. No one knew for certain but they all had ideas. None of their answers satisfied Little Duck. One day, when no one was looking, she swam downstream. All she wanted was to have a bit of a look, but the monster caught her and would not let her go. “You will be my wife,” he told her. Little Duck refused and tried to escape, but the monster watched her closely. She could not find a way to go back to her home. Even though she became pregnant, he continued to keep watch. One night, when the monster could no longer stay awake, Little Duck escaped and swam back to the pond. Everyone was overjoyed to see her, welcoming her home. Once again Little Duck swam and splashed, delighted to be living among friends and family. But when she gave birth, her children did not look like the other duck children. They did not look like their mother. The other ducks were afraid of Little Duck’s children and told her, “Take your children and leave.” Little Duck tried to convince the ducks her babies could do no harm but they would not listen. “Babies grow up. They are children of the monster. They will hurt us when they can.” Little Duck gathered her babies and left the pond, swimming upstream until she came to a big lake. Here her children grew and flourished. In time they mated and had children of their own. Their children looked like their parents. None looked like Little Duck. Her children were ashamed of her. “You must leave our lake. You do not look like us.” Little Duck took one last look at her children and grandchildren. With an aching heart she swam away, into unknown waters, toward a new life. *Also titled: How Platypuses Came to Australia  Ratu needed a tree to make a new canoe so he went to the forest and picked out the tallest and straightest tree he could find. With his sharpened axe, he chopped down the tree and went home to rest before cutting it into smaller pieces. When he returned, the tree was standing as tall and straight as it was before he chopped it down. Astonished, he cut the tree down once more and this time, he chopped off the branches. The next morning when he went to cut the trunk into pieces for his canoe, once again the tree was standing straight and tall. He was so determined to use this tree to make his canoe he cut it down for a third time. This time, he not only chopped off all the branches, he cut the trunk in pieces that were the right size for his canoe. Too tired to continue, he decided to return at sunrise to finish. Just before dawn, as he approached the tree, he heard fluttering and buzzing and chirping and droning. He hid behind thick bushes and watched. All the birds and animals and insects that lived in the tree were putting it back together branch by branch, leaf by leaf, fitting the bark together as if it were a puzzle. Ratu’s anger grew as he watched the spirits of the forest pull the tree upright. He rushed toward them and yelled, “Stop! This is my tree. I need it to make my canoe.” The creatures gathered behind the spirits and with one voice they asked, “ Who gave you permission to kill one of our trees?”  There was once a husband and wife who had everything they could wish for—except children. They were so unhappy the husband decided to consult a magician. After seeing his distress, the magician said, “Go home. Your wish is granted.” Imagine Stan’s surprise when he opened the front door and saw oodles of children of every size, shape, color, and personality. “How will we feed all our children?” he asked his wife. “We’ll make a garden. You go and see what you can find,” she said The next morning he left to find work but no one would hire him. Stopping to rest, he saw a shepherd tending his sheep. All he could think about was the fine dinner even one sheep would make. Suddenly he heard a horrendous noise, so loud the ground shook. A dragon swooped down, scooped up a lamb in each claw and flew away. Stan helped the shepherd gather the frightened sheep and in return, the shepherd gave him half his dinner. He told Stan how worried he was. “If this keeps up, I’ll soon have no more sheep.” “Hmm,” said Stan, “If I rid you of the dragon, how will you reward me?” “It’s not likely you can, but if you do, I’ll give you enough sheep to start your own herd.” For the rest of the day and most of the next, as he herded sheep Stan tried to think of ways to stop the dragon from stealing them but memories of the dreadful noise drowned out his thoughts. After dinner, when the dragon appeared, rushing toward the sheep, the sound was even more horrible than the night before. Terrified, Stan shouted, “Stop your atrocious noise or I will . . .” The dragon was so startled it stopped in mid-flight, landed and asked, “Who are you?” Stan’s fear spoke for him. “I am Stan, the mighty man. I eat dragons for breakfast. These sheep are mine. Leave now or I will eat you.” “Go ahead, eat me.” Stan stepped forward, knife and fork in hand. “Well,” said the dragon, “if these sheep are yours, I better look elsewhere.” He flapped his wings, ready to leave. “Just a moment,” snarled Stan. “You’ve eaten a lot of my sheep. You need to pay me for my losses. That man over there,” he said, pointing to the shepherd, “knows the exact amount due. Pay up or else!” “I don’t have any money, but my mother does. If you come with me and prove you’re stronger than I am, and if she likes you, she’ll give you more gold than you can carry.” Stan’s terror turned to amazement. He felt himself grow strong and bold. “Lead me to her,” he growled as best he could. The dragon’s mother was bigger and more fearsome than her son. Stan was terrified but thinking about his children gave him courage. “I heard you say you’re stronger than my son. Show me!” She gave her son an enormous barrel. “Throw it as far as you can.” It fell so far Stan could hardly see it. “Your turn,” said the dragon. “Oh,” said Stan, thinking quickly. “It’s a pity I might kill you with this barrel.” “What?” yelped the dragon. Stan explained how a magician had given him a gift. Anything he threw would come back and hit the owner. “Well,” said the dragon, not wanting to die, “in that case, my mother will give you another test. Stan agreed, pretending he was annoyed. The dragon told his mother she needed to give them another test. “Very well,” she said. “The one who is stronger will carry the most water.” The dragon lifted the heavy pail, filled it up and was back in an instant. “Your turn,” he said to Stan. Stan bent down. With his pocketknife he began to dig up earth. “No sense carrying a pail when I can dig a new well close by.” “Stop!” yelled the dragon. That well was dug by my great-great-grandfather. It mustn’t be disturbed. “I’ll carry the water for you.” Stan kept digging. “I’ll give you twice the gold I promised if you’ll stop digging. He filled and emptied the pail twice. When the dragon’s mother saw how much water she thought Stan had carried she devised another plan. The next morning the dragon’s mother said, “Let’s see who can collect the most wood in the next hour.” The dragon had no trouble lifting huge oaks out of the ground, but Stan climbed to the top of the highest tree and noticed a vine creeping up toward him. He tied it to a strong branch, then climbed to the top of a second tree. When he noticed the dragon watching him, Stan explained, “It’s too much trouble uprooting one tree at a time. I’ll tie all of the tallest trees with this vine and pull them up all together.” “No!” yelled the dragon. “My great-great grandmother planted this forest you mustn’t ruin it.” “Very well, but this is the last time I’m going to stop. Once I start something I finish it.” The dragon’s mother decided it didn’t matter who was stronger. She wanted him gone. ‘Very well,” said Stan, “but if you want me to leave, your son will have to carry me and the gold back to my home.” Quicker than an eye can blink, the dragon loaded up the gold, put Stan on his back, and flew down to earth. As they approached the house, Stan heard his children laughing. “Maybe you better stop here,” he said to the dragon. “I have lots of children and they’re all stronger . . . Before he could say another word, the dragon dumped him and the gold and flew off. Stan laughed. Hmm, he thought, there’s enough gold here to feed and clothe my children for the rest of their lives. Not bad for three days work. |
World TalesAge old stories of wit and wisdom from around the world. Tales retold by Nancy King. Archives
October 2025
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Nancy King is a widely published author and a professor emerita at the University of Delaware, where she has taught theater, drama, playwriting, creative writing, and multidisciplinary studies with an emphasis on world literature. She has published seven previous works of nonfiction and five novels. Her new memoir, Breaking the Silence, explores the power of stories in healing from trauma and abuse. Her career has emphasized the use of her own experience in being silenced to encourage students to find their voices and to express their thoughts, feelings, and experiences with authenticity, as a way to add meaning to their lives.
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