The Vain Acacia Tree and the Weaver Birds

Told to Chris and Andrew on the way to Mapungubwe, Saturday 5th August, as a way of explaining why some trees had weaver nests in them, and some didnt. Back in the time when the trees could walk, some trees thought themselves better than others. This was not linked to one particular species, but simply to each trees personality. Trees living in Africa had to move to get water, just like modern wildebeest and zebra do now. The trees used their roots to glide through the soil in search of the precious liquid, and needed all their strength to do so. Some of the trees, being vain, would invite birds to nest in their branches, to make themselves look more beautiful than the others. One of the Acacia trees were the most vain, and invited the clever weaver birds to build their homes in her branches. She kept on inviting more and more of the birds to come, until her branches were hidden underneath the tapestry of nests. Then, one day, a drought came. Many of the other trees started moving away, but the vain acacia was stuck the nests had made her branches too heavy for her roots to lift out of the soil. And so she was stuck, and had to struggle to find the precious water that would keep her alive. This story was spread around the trees, and so many trees did not allow birds to build their nests in them. But still today, on the N1 that travels north from Pretoria to Polokwane in South Africa, you can still see some of these foolish trees, stuck in the soil because they allowed too many weaver birds to build their nests in their branches.

/opt/scribd/conversion/tmp/scratch31290/62194903.doc On 31/08/06, page 1 of 4

The Stinky Hippo Story

Told to Chris and Andrew on the way to Mapungubwe, Saturday 5th August, after Doug had mentioned that a stinky hippo had followed Andrew around one day... Once upon a time, the Limpopo flowed West rather than East and made the Kalahari Desert the Kalahari Lake. It was a beautiful lake, where a large flock of fish eagles eagerly consumed the abundant fish. All was peaceful until by chance a clump of the stinky bean plant started growing. The plant was delicious to eat, but had unfortunate and rather smelly side effects. This frightened the fish, and they swam so deeply that the fish eagles could no longer catch them. This made the fish eagles very annoyed and they were most emphatic in insisting that no-one ate the stinky bean plant, using their talons and beaks to underline how important this was. So, the stinky bean plant grew and grew, and no-one dared eat its delicious leaves. The fish eagles were happy because they could catch fish. The fish were happy, because they could swim on the surface and catch insects. No-one asked the insects what they thought. This calm was disturbed by the arrival of a small family of hippos down the Limpopo. These hippos found the stinky bean plant ideal to eat, and so guzzled as much as they could. Since the hippos were in the lake, the fish were frightened by the smells, and swam deeply. The fish eagles were greatly annoyed and began to peck and claw the hippos. The hippos were irritated by the rudeness of the fish eagles, so began to open their mouths widely for the eagles to crash into. This upset the eagles so much that they flew away to the Bujagali Falls in Uganda, where they are today. The hippos carried on eating the stinky bean plants, and it grew and grew and grew. Now, hippos make a real mess of the mud and sand in a lake, and unearthed a large quartz crystal. The Suns rays shone onto this crystal and it acted as a magnifying glass. The concentrated beam of light blazed onto a leaf of the stinky bean plant and it caught fire. And then this fire ignited the smelly gas from the hippos, and there was a huge explosion. The explosion was so big that not only did all the plants burn to ashes and the hippos get cooked, but all the water evaporated and the earth buckled so much that the Limpopo ran back the way it came and emptied into the Indian Ocean rather than the Atlantic, and the Kalahari Lake turned into the Kalahari Desert. And that is the end of the Stinky Hippo story.

/opt/scribd/conversion/tmp/scratch31290/62194903.doc On 31/08/06, page 2 of 4

The first drums

Told to Rachel and Chris on 9th August at Marakeli tented camp whilst the Braai was warming up. This was after wed met Phineas the drum maker and bought Chris Venda drum. Some elements came from the story of The lady who build her hut on the Elephant highway from the African story book that JJ (Jolys son, from Uganda) gave Chris (the lady by herself, the children by themselves, the gathering of wood) but the constellation, bushbuck, drum and logs were mine, and inspired by the workings of Phineas the drum maker.) Once upon a time, long ago, there lived a lady who had many children. Her husband was away looking after his cattle, finding them new pastures. It was difficult for the lady to constantly keep an eye on the children, and she struggled to find food to eat, and wood to cook with. One day, she was very busy. She had many things to do: clothes to mend, the roof to rethatch, beadwork to finish to sell, and the four babies needed baths. She had to ask her eldest daughter to go into the bush to find enough wood for the cooking fire. Well, once shed finished her jobs, she called her daughter. But there was no reply. She left the children with a neighbour, and went into the bush, calling, and calling for her daughter. Still no reply. She realised that her daughter had got lost! And now, as she had rushed off in a hurry, she was lost as well! There was nothing for it. She had to find her daughter, and eventually, after several hours, she did. But now the Sun had set, and it was dark as dark. The moon had not risen. And so she worried how she was going to get home. She looked up to pray for help, and noticed a group of stars in the shape of a bushbuck. The bushbuck was the emblem of her village, and she took this as a sign that this direction was the way home. And this was confirmed when she carried on walking and found a bushbuck curled under a tree. And a few minutes later she saw the fires from her village, and soon walked into her house with great relief and joy. Her children greeted her with tears in their eyes, and hugged her and her eldest daughter. Fed, warmed, sheltered, they went to bed, still singing. The lady sat and thought. Her eyes were closed, she slept, but she still thought. The morning star rose, then dimmed as the Sun rose in the African sky, silhouetting the Baobab and fever trees. She went back into the bush, and found the bushbuck where it was lying under the tree. She approached it, and to her surprise, found it was dead. She went back to her home, and called her sons to help her. While gathering the animal, she found a large log, and a small log by its side. Back in the village, they used fire and axes to hollow the logs. She skinned and cleaned the bushbuck skin. Using water she stretched the skin over the hollowed-out logs, and the Sun dried the skin and tightened it. She showed the children how by hitting the skins they could make a loud ddddrrrrrruummmmmmmmmhhhhh noise. The larger one she kept at home. The smaller one she gave to her children when they went out to collect firewood in the bush. This meant that the bushbuck skin drums would always guide her children home, just as the bushbuck constellation had guided her home that fateful night.

/opt/scribd/conversion/tmp/scratch31290/62194903.doc On 31/08/06, page 3 of 4

How the peregrine got its speed

Told by CPH, just after the drum story at Marakele. The peregrine was once the slowest bird in the world, and was not looking forward to the animal Olympics. The race started and the birds raced away. As expected, the peregrine was the slowest bird, and was despondently in last place. The Creator saw that the bird was not suited to going that slowly, so took pity on it and gave it more speed. So surprised was the peregrine that it flapped its wings faster and faster, and won its race. Full of gratitude, it praised and thanked the Creator, who allowed it to keep its speed.

/opt/scribd/conversion/tmp/scratch31290/62194903.doc On 31/08/06, page 4 of 4