Anansi and Snake

Anansi and Snake
Tale from Jamaica

Tiger was the undisputed king of the forest. Tiger Lilies were named after him. Tiger Moths were named after him. And the stories of the forest were called Tiger Stories.

Anansi was a nobody in the forest heirarchy. When the animals gathered together, they would ask idle questions like "Who is the strongest animal?" or "Who is the bravest?"

All together, they would chorus "Tiger!". And just to poke fun, they would say, "Who is the weakest?" Like a church choir, they would all sing out "Anansi!".

Anansi got sick and tired of it all.

One day he met Tiger face to face in the forest. Anansi bowed low to Tiger, but Tiger did not acknowledge Anansi in the least. He had no time to waste on such an insignificant speck.

"Tiger," said Anansi, "you have it all. Can't you just ease me up and let me have one thing named after me?"

Tiger wanted to ignore Anansi, but his curiosity got the better of him. "And just what is it you want to bear your name, Anansi?"

"The stories," replied Anansi. "I want them to be called Anansi stories."

Now Tiger loved those stories, and did not intend to give them up to this crawling nobody. Still, even the undisputed king of the forest needed a laugh sometimes. So he said to Anansi, "If you can do one small thing for me, I will let you call the stories Anansi stories or any other name you like."

Anansi didn't like the sound of this. "What one thing would that be, Tiger?" he asked cautiously.

"Nothing too hard... just capture Snake for me by the end of the week, and all the stories will be known as Anansi stories forever more."

Good thing Anansi had eight legs to stand on, because at least four of them buckled same time! This Snake was not your flimsy garden variety snake. Snake of the jungle was big. Very big. And Anansi was small. Very small.

But Anansi could think big, so he said "I'll do it."

At that, there was a huge burst of laughter from all the other animals who had been eavesdropping on the conversation. They went home, tears of amusement rolling down their faces.

Anansi went home, very worried. But thinking.

This was on Monday.

Next day...

Anansi went on the trail he knew Snake travelled on everyday. He made a large noose out of a strong vine, and placed some of Snake's favourite berries inside it. He hid in the bushes, holding the other end of the vine.

Snake came slithering along the path. He spied the berries and his mouth watered. But he also spied the noose. He lay the weight of his body on the vine, then reached in and ate the berries quickly. Anansi tried and tried but he could not pull the vine to close the noose. Snake's body was too heavy!

Next day...

Anansi went a little further down Snake's favourite trail, and dug a pit in the ground. He placed a luscious hand of ripe bananas in it, then smeared the sides of the pit with grease, so that Snake would slip in when he tried to get the bananas.

Snake came along the path. He spied the bananas and his mouth watered. But he also spied the grease. So he wrapped his tail around a thick tree trunk, then reached into the hole with his head and ate the bananas. If he had lips he would have licked them. He raised his head out of the pit, unwrapped his tail, and slithered away.

Next day...

Anansi made a square trap out of sticks, with spaces on three sides, and a door on the other. He put some mangoes inside. Soon a piglet came along and went straight for the mangoes. He didn't notice when Anansi shut the door behind him. Anansi figured that Snake could get inside the trap through the spaces, but that he would be too fat to get out after he had eaten the piglet.

Snake came along, and saw the piglet. The creature was so terrified when he saw Snake that he went berserk, squealing at the top of his lungs and smashing the trap into pieces. The piglet fled into the bushes, and Snake's mouth did not even get the chance to water. Anansi muttered to himself, "Fool-fool, good for nuttn pig."

Next day...

It was Friday, the end of the week, and Anansi was still Snakeless. He went directly to Snake's house, and sat outside, looking dejected. Snake came out and looked at Anansi in surprise. "But you bright, eeh? All week long you trying to catch me, and now you sitting here barefaced in mi yard?"

Anansi looked at Snake and sighed. "Yes, is true. But I was trying to catch you for a worthy cause. Now the other animals will continue to talk behind your back."

"What you talking about, Anansi? What they saying about me?"

Anansi said, "Well, I really shouldn't be telling you, but they saying that you believe you are the longest thing around, and that you think you are God's gift to longness, when even the shortest bamboo around here is longer than you!"

Snake was outraged. "Measure me, Anansi, measure me! Cut down the longest bamboo you can find and let me shut up those backbiters!"

Anansi ran and cut down the longest bamboo. He rested it on the ground and Snake stretched out beside it. "Call them, Anansi. Let them see that nothing around here can test me!"

Anansi scratched his chin. "Well, Snake, there's a problem. You look longer than the bamboo, but how do I know that when I go up by your head you not crawling up to look longer, and when I go down by your tail you not shifting down on that end?"

"Tie mi tail, then Anansi. if you don't believe me."

By this time curious animals were gathering around to watch.

Anansi tied Snake's tail tightly to the bamboo with some vines. Then he said to Snake, "Stretch, Snake, Stretch. You almost there. Stretch till you eyes shut and you can't stretch no more."

Anansi had never seen a snake sweat. Snake stretched till his eyes were squeezed shut, and in a flash Anansi tied his head to the pole, then his middle.

The animals who had been watching were silent. There was no laughing at Anansi this time. He had said he would capture Snake, and he did.

And from that day to this, the stories have been called Anansi stories.

Jack Mandora, mi nuh choose none!


THEME: Triumph of weak over the strong, with brains, not force


This is one of the best known Anansi stories, showing up Anansi's tricky, clever side. Compared to others, it shows Anansi in quite a positive light, as the underdog using his brains to triumph in a hopeless situation. Other Anansi stories show up his lazy, greedy side as well, and some tell us of Anansi being too smart for his own good!

Anansi was an important character to generations of slaves, as he demonstrated the ability of the weak and the downtrodden to use brains, wit and cunning to triumph over the oppressor.

The phrase "Jack Mandora, mi nuh choose none" is usually said at the end of Anansi stories and other Jamaican folk tales. It is believed to be a disclaimer, in which the storyteller is informing heaven's gatekeeper (Jack Mandora) that the story is merely being passed on as it was heard, with nothing added to or omitted from it. This is a safeguard, as some of Anansi's activities do not take the moral highground, so to speak, and the storyteller does not want to seem to be in agreement with them!

Anansi Stories originated in West Africa. They were brought to Jamaica and other parts of the New World by Ashanti slaves, and were handed down orally through generations. Anansi exists as a spider, a man, or a combination of the two. His name is sometimes spelt Anancy, and his stories called Anancy stories.

Anansi is no goody-two-shoes hero. He is a greedy, lazy, inventive trickster, cunning and smart in the extreme. Anansi loves a joke, and when he's not sleeping, is always up to something.

The Great Big Enormous Turnip

The Great Big Enormous Turnip
Tale from Ukrain
By Alexei Tolstoy

An old man planted a turnip seed.
It grew very big! The turnip was enormous!
The old man thought he just had to pull on the leaves to get it out.
He tried to pick his turnip but it didn't come up.

He quickly called his wife.
The old woman was in the living room with her cat, dog, and bird.
The old man pulled the turnip leaves and the old woman pulled him.
But they couldn't pull the turnip up.

The old woman called her granddaughter.
The granddaughter was reading in a tree.
The old man, the old woman, and the granddaughter tried
But could not pull the turnip up.

The granddaughter called the black dog.
The dog was on the couch.
The old man, his wife, the granddaughter, and the dog tried
But could not pull the turnip out.

The dog called the cat in the flower garden.
The old man, his wife, the granddaughter, the dog and the cat tried
But the turnip did not move.

The cat called the mouse.
A teeny tiny mouse.
The old man, his wife, the granddaughter, the dog, the cat and the mouse tried
They all worked together and the turnip popped out -ZABOOM!

They all fell splat!
They were so excited! Then they went to the kitchen with the turnip and ate it up.


THEME: cooperation.

Jump & Jive Fall 2008 - This material has been created by Colleen Willis for the Infopeople Project [infopeople.org/], supported by the
U.S. Institute of Museum and Library Services under the provisions of the Library Services and Technology Act, administered in California
by the State Librarian. Any use of this material should credit the author and funding source.

The Gifts of Wali Dod

The Gifts of Wali Dad
A Tale of India and Pakistan
Told by Aaron Shepard

Published as a picture book by Atheneum, New York, 1995, and also printed in Australia’s School Magazine, June 2002

In a mud hut far from town lived an old grass-cutter named Wali Dad.

Every morning, Wali Dad cut and bundled tall, wild grass. Every afternoon, he sold it as fodder in the marketplace.

Each day, he earned thirty paisa. Ten of the small coins went for food. Ten went for clothes and other needs. And ten he saved in a clay pot under his bed.

In this manner Wali Dad lived happily for many years.

One evening, Wali Dad dragged out the pot to see how much money it held. He was amazed to find that his coins had filled it to the brim.

“What am I to do with all this money?” he said to himself. “I need nothing more than I have.”

Wali Dad thought and thought. At last he had an idea.

The next day, Wali Dad loaded the money into a sack and carried it to a jeweler in the marketplace. He exchanged all his coins for a lovely gold bracelet.

Then Wali Dad visited the home of a traveling merchant.

“Tell me,” said Wali Dad, “in all the world, who is the noblest lady?”

“Without doubt,” said the merchant, “it is the young queen of Khaistan. I often visit her palace, just three days’ journey to the east.”

“Do me a kindness,” said Wali Dad. “The next time you pass that way, give her this little bracelet, with my compliments.”

The merchant was astonished, but he agreed to do what the ragged grass-cutter asked.

Soon after, the merchant found himself at the palace of the queen of Khaistan. He presented the bracelet to her as a gift from Wali Dad.

“How lovely!” she said, admiring the bracelet. “Your friend must accept a gift in return. My servants will load a camel with the finest silks.”

When the merchant arrived back home, he brought the silks to the hut of Wali Dad.

“Oh, no!” said the grass-cutter. “This is worse than before! What am I to do with such finery?”

“Perhaps,” said the merchant, “you could give it to someone else.”

Wali Dad thought for a moment. “Tell me,” he said, “in all the world, who is the noblest man?”

“That is simple,” said the merchant. “It is the young king of Nekabad. His palace, too, I often visit, just three days’ journey to the west.”

“Then do me another kindness,” begged Wali Dad. “On your next trip there, give him these silks, with my compliments.”

The merchant was amused, but he agreed. On his next journey, he presented the silks to the king of Nekabad.

“A splendid gift!” said the king, admiring the silks. “In return, your friend must have twelve of my finest horses.”

So the merchant brought the king’s horses to Wali Dad.

“This grows worse and worse!” declared the old man. “What could I do with twelve horses?”

But after a moment Wali Dad said, “I know who should have such a gift. I beg you, keep two horses for yourself, and take the rest to the queen of Khaistan!”

The merchant thought this was very funny, but he consented. On his next visit to the queen’s palace, he gave her the horses.

Now the queen was perplexed. She whispered to her prime minister, “Why does this Wali Dad persist in sending gifts? I have never even heard of him!”

The prime minister said, “Why don’t you discourage him? Send him a gift so rich, he can never hope to match it.”

So in return for the ten horses from Wali Dad, the queen sent back twenty mules loaded with silver.

When the merchant and mules arrived back at the hut, Wali Dad groaned. “What have I done to deserve this? Friend, spare an old man! Keep two mules and their silver for yourself, and take the rest to the king of Nekabad!”

The merchant was getting uneasy, but he could not refuse such a generous offer. So not long after, he found himself presenting the silver-laden mules to the king of Nekabad.

The king, too, was perplexed and asked his prime minister for advice.

“Perhaps this Wali Dad seeks to prove himself your better,” said the prime minister. “Why not send him a gift he can never surpass?”

So the king sent back twenty camels with golden anklets, twenty horses with golden bridles and stirrups, twenty elephants with golden seats mounted on their backs, and twenty liveried servants to care for them all.

When the merchant guided the servants and animals to Wali Dad’s hut, the grass-cutter was beside himself. “Will bad fortune never end? Please, do not stop for a minute! Keep for yourself two of each animal, and take the rest to the queen of Khaistan!”

“How can I go to her again?” protested the merchant. But Wali Dad pleaded so hard, the merchant consented to go just once more.

This time, the queen was stunned by the magnificence of Wali Dad’s gift. She turned again to her prime minister.

“Clearly,” said the prime minister, “the man wishes to marry you. Since his gifts are so fine, perhaps you should meet him!”

So the queen ordered a great caravan made ready, with countless horses, camels, and elephants. With the trembling merchant as guide, she and her court set out to visit the great Wali Dad.

On the third day, the caravan made camp, and the queen sent the merchant ahead to tell Wali Dad of her coming.

When Wali Dad heard the merchant’s news, his head sank to his hands. “Oh, no!” he moaned. “Now I will be paid for all my foolishness. I have brought shame on myself, on you, and on the queen. What are we to do?”

“I fear we can do nothing!” said the merchant, and he headed back to the caravan.

The next morning, Wali Dad rose before dawn. “Good-bye, old hut,” he said. “I will never see you again.”

The old grass-cutter started down the road. But he had not gone far when he heard a voice.

“Where are you going, Wali Dad?”

He turned and saw two radiant ladies. He knew at once they were peris from Paradise.

Wali Dad sank to his knees and cried, “I am a stupid old man. Let me go my way. I cannot face my shame!”

“No shame can come to such as you,” said one of the peris. “Though your clothes are poor, in your heart you are a king.”

The peri touched him on the shoulder. To his amazement, he saw his rags turn to fine clothes. A jeweled turban sat on his head. The rusty sickle at his waist was now a gleaming scimitar.

“Return, Wali Dad,” said the other peri. “All is as it should be.”

Wali Dad looked behind him. Where his hut had stood, a splendid palace sparkled in the rising sun. In shock, he turned to the peris, but they had vanished.

Wali Dad hurried back along the road. As he entered the palace, the guards gave a salute. Servants bowed to him, then rushed here and there, preparing for the visitors.

Wali Dad wandered through countless rooms, gaping at riches beyond his imagining. Suddenly, three servants ran up.

“A caravan from the east!” announced the first.

“No,” said the second, “a caravan from the west!”

“No,” said the third, “caravans from both east and west!”

The bewildered Wali Dad rushed outside to see two caravans halt before the palace. Coming from the east was a queen in a jeweled litter. Coming from the west was a king on a fine horse.

Wali Dad hurried to the queen.

“My dear Wali Dad, we meet at last,” said the queen of Khaistan. “But who is that magnificent king?”

“I believe it is the king of Nekabad, Your Majesty,” said Wali Dad. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

He rushed over to the king.

“My dear Wali Dad, I had to meet the giver of such fine gifts,” said the king of Nekabad. “But who is that splendid queen?”

“The queen of Khaistan, Your Majesty,” said Wali Dad with a smile. “Please come and meet her.”

And so the king of Nekabad met the queen of Khaistan, and the two fell instantly in love. A few days later their marriage took place in the palace of Wali Dad. And the celebration went on for many days.

At last Wali Dad had said good-bye to all his guests. The very next morning, he rose before dawn, crept quietly from the palace, and started down the road.

But he had not gone far when he heard a voice.

“Where are you going, Wali Dad?”

He turned and saw the two peris. Again he sank to his knees.

“Did I not tell you I am a stupid old man? I should be glad for what I have received, but . . . .”

“Say no more,” said the other peri. “You shall have your heart’s desire.” And she touched him again.

So Wali Dad became once more a grass-cutter, living happily in his hut for the rest of his days. And though he often thought warmly of his friends the king and queen, he was careful never to send them another gift.
About the Story



THEME: Generosity

This is a retelling of “Story of Wali Dâd the Simple-hearted,” found in Andrew Lang’s Brown Fairy Book (1904). The tale was given to Lang by a Major Campbell—a British army officer stationed in India’s Punjab—who heard it from “an Indian.” Since the Punjab was later split between India and Pakistan, I have thought it best to attribute the tale to both countries. The dominant influences of the story are Islamic and Zoroastrian rather than Hindu.

The paisa is the smallest Indian coin. Peris are an import from Persian mythology. Originally considered evil, their image changed gradually to benevolent beings akin to fairies or angels. It is said they feed only on the odor of perfume.