"Mother Peixe Caball', you are

the tide went out, she went out with it.1 carrying me on a good road, rocking among the waves," said Lob. She took him far out to sea. "Let me go now!" said Lob, "I remember Zabel Gonçalbe." "I haven't got you, you've got me," rejoined Peixe Caball'. "Who are you?"-"I'm uncle Lob." - "I gave you my breast, thinking you Pedr. I like Pedr because he stays by me when the tide is low against the birds who would eat me. This time I'll put you ashore. But don't come again."

(10) As soon as uncle Lob reached land, he ran home to find Pedr. "Where is Pedr?" he asked Zabel Gonçalbe. "Don't ask me," she answered in a temper. "Unless you leave Pedr alone, he will kill you." But Lob started out again to find Pedr. Pedr was tied up because they had caught him stealing in a mandiocera. "Xubrinh, what are you doing here?" asked uncle Lob. "There's a festa on here," answered Pedr. "They want me to eat, but I don't feel like eating, so they have tied me me," says uncle Lob. "I'll loose you, and you tie me." Lob sees them coming with a gamella. Thinking they are bringing him something to eat, he jumps with joy. "Pedr is crazy not to want those good things!" In the gamella was a red-hot iron, and they shove it at him. "It's not me, it's Pedr!" he yells. "It's not me, it's Pedr!" Away on a little hill stood Pedr, playing his tamborinh and singing, —.

We have here a
That pattern is

1 Mama, "mother," "breast;" bax (baixo), "down;" riba, "up." somewhat confused use of the "open sesame, close sesame" pattern. well used in another Cape Verde tale in connection with a fruit-tree. "Down" or "up" is said to the tree. (A variant is found in the Bahamas.) In this tale the pattern is transferred from the tree to the fish.

2 Patch of manioc.

3 Large wooden platter.

4 Curup is an onomatopoetic word for the sound of feet.

This is one of the formula endings common to all the Cape Verde Islands. Properly told, every tale should have such an ending, although it may be omitted, as in the preceding tales, either from carelessness or from sophistication.

SURINAM FOLK-TALES.

BY A. P. AND T. E. PENARD.

DUTCH GUIANA, or Surinam, with its diverse population, offers an exceptionally fertile field to the student of folk-lore.

Scattered through the jungles bordering the numerous waterways, especially on the banks of the more or less inaccessible creeks, and in the open savannas, there are several tribes of Indians. There also are the so-called Boschnegers (Bush Negroes), descendants of Negroes who escaped from slavery in the early days, and, in defiance of the authorities of the time, set up independent communities in the wilderness, retaining many of their African customs and beliefs. But for the investigator who does not care to experience the hardships and dangers of a trip through the wild river-lands, in the sun-baked savannas, or to the practically unknown hinterland, there still remain excellent opportunities in city, town, and plantation, among the extremely mixed and interesting population in which the Negro element heavily preponderates.

So far as the writers are aware, no Negro folk-tales from Surinam have ever been published in English, and even in other languages the number published is comparatively small. The following bibliography, comprising only those items in which the tales are actually recorded, while not very extensive, is probably not far from complete.

1. M. D. TEENSTRA. De Landbouw in de Kolonie Suriname. Groningen 1835, Tweede Deel, p. 213.

Two fragments.

2. J. CREVAUX. Voyages dans l'Amerique du Sud. Paris, 1883. 190 p.

One story.

3. H. VAN CAPPELLE. Surinaamsche Negervertellingen (in Elsevier's Maandschrift, November, 1904, 14 [No. 11]: 314-327).

4.

Two stories and reference by title to six others. The author states also that twenty-five stories were collected for him by Mr. M. H. Nahar. The writers are not aware that they have been published.1 Suriname in Woord en Beeld (in Nederlandsche Zeewezen, July 15, 1905, 4: 212-214).

One story.

5. (H. F. RIKKEN). Ma Kankantrie (in De Surinamer, Paramaribo, 1907, Chapter VI).

Five stories. This work is one of the most interesting dealing with the negro folk-lore of Surinam.

1 Since the above was written the stories referred to (39 instead of 25) have been published by Dr. van Cappelle in Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde van Ned. Indië; The Hague, 1916, Deel 72, Afl. 1 en 2, 233–379.

6. H. SIEBECK. Buschnegermärchen aus Surinam (in Hessische Blätter für Volkskunde [Leipzig, 1908], 7 [pt. 1]: 10-16).

Three stories, collected by F. Stähelin.

7. F. STÄHELIN. Tiermärchen der Buschneger in Surinam (in Hessische Blätter für Volkskunde [Leipzig, 1909], 8 [pt. 3]: 173-184).

Six stories.

8. (ANONYMOUs). De Spin en de Teerpop (in Voor Onze Jeugd; Bijlage van het Maandschrift Op de Hoogte, March, 1911, 8: 40-41).

One story, by "Tante Jo."

9. J. G. SPALBURG.

pp. 10-12.

One story.

Bruine Mina, De Koto-Missi. Paramaribo, 1913,

10. H. SCHUCHARDT. Die Sprache der Saramakkaneger in Surinam (Verhandelingen der Koninklijke Akademie van Wetenschappen te Amsterdam; Amsterdam 1914, Afd. Letterkunde, Nieuwe Reeks, Deel 14, No. 6, p. 41).

One story.

The sounds of the words in the Negro language appearing in this article are as follows:

The consonants have the same sound as in English, with the exception of j, which is pronounced like y in year.

In general, the spelling will be found to agree with that given either in Wullschlägel's Deutsch-Negerenglisches Wörterbuch (Löbau, 1856) or in Focke's Neger-Engelsch Woordenboek (Leiden, 1855); but the writers have deviated from both authorities wherever they deemed it advisable for the sake of uniformity, without introducing forms which would confuse the Dutch reader. The Dutch diphthong oe, having the sound of oo in the English word boot, has been retained for the

same reason.

The Surinam Negro is an excellent story-teller, and many of the tales collected show no mean attainment in the art. As may be expected, many of the stories may be traced to African sources, naturally influenced by the New-World surroundings. A number are of undoubted European origin, retold with characteristic alterations and additions. There are also some which seem to have no exact counterpart elsewhere.

The stories lose much by translation, and there can be no doubt that one must be thoroughly familiar with the expressive Negro language in order to appreciate them to the fullest extent. There is

always that intangible something in the manner of the narrator, the quaint and often forceful expressions, the hushed whisper or sudden outburst, the gesture, the imitative speech, the chanting phrase or little song, the occasion upon which they are told, the very environment, that impart to these stories an interest which it is impossible to maintain in translation or to appreciate in the comfort of a welllighted library in a distant land.

As in other places in the West Indies, the stories go by the name Anansi-(s)tori (e.g., Spider-Stories), because in the majority of them Anansi, the Spider, is the chief actor. But there are many so-called Anansi-tori in which Spider does not play any part; and even the orthodox European nursery-tales, such as "Cinderella" and "Little Red Riding Hood," sometimes go by the same name.

Anansi is a wise, wily, treacherous rascal; a liar, a thief, and a murderer. His chief claim to attention lies in the display of his matchless cunning, which upon all occasions stands him in good stead and often is the means of saving his life. He is a supernatural being, now appearing in human form, then again as the bona-fide spider of our natural-histories. He possesses the power to increase his size or diminish it at will, and his resources are without limit. Indeed, he is a wonderful creature, this Anansi.

The name "Anansi" applies to all members of the order Araneina. Sometimes the narrator refers specifically to the large bush-spider (Mygale sp.), but he has particularly in mind the husky, long-legged crab-spider (Heteropoda venatoria) commonly found in dwelling-houses in Surinam. These harmless house-spiders conceal themselves in the triangular spaces formed by the overlapping boards, where the latter are secured to the upright studding and columns of the buildings. These little holes are called postoros or postoe holo ("post-holes").

This curious life-habit of the spider gives rise to the closing statement of a large number of the stories, to the effect that to this day Anansi lives in the postoros. And so also there is a series of stories accounting for the markings on the spider's back, usually the result. of a beating he receives at the hands of some one he has deceived. But the explanatory element is not essential to the majority of the stories. In many of the tales exhibiting this tendency the object is not to account for some natural fact; but rather, in the development of the plot, circumstances arise which lend themselves readily to an amusing explanation of the origin of some trait or fact, and furnish the narrator with a suitable formula for the end of his story. In some, however, the motive is deliberately explanatory. The story of "How Man made Woman respect him," here related, is of this type; and so are a number of others collected, among which we may mention tales accounting for the origin of Monday and the origin of labor-pains. VOL. XXX. NO. 116.-16.

Among the animal-actors we find Dog, Horse, Ass, Cow, Goat, Cat, Rat, Elephant, Whale, Deer, Howling Monkey, Agouti, Aboma (Boa constrictor and Eunectes murinus), Snake, Caiman, Tortoise, Snail, Toad, Vulture, Cock, Hen, Wren, Sen-sen (cricket), Cockroach, Fly, and many others. But chief of these is Tiger (the jaguar), the mortal enemy of Anansi. Kings and princesses, and ordinary men and women, also play their part; and trees, vegetables, celestial bodies, inanimate objects, diseases, and even Death itself, are characters endowed with the power of speech. Then, too, there are hosts of mythical beings, among which may be mentioned the watramama (a water-spirit), the boesi-mama (a wood-spirit), the jorka (ghost), the bakroe, the leba,2 the mysterious azema, and a legion of other takroe sani ("bad things").

Anansi-tori are not told exclusively to children. They form an important diversion for the older people. They are told in the mining-camps, around the camp-fire in the woods, at small gatherings, and at wakes (dede-hoso). But they are gradually going out of fashion, and the day is not far when they will be completely supplanted by the European tales. It is considered unlucky to tell Anansi-tori in the daytime; but, if this is to be done, the narrator may avert the

1 The bakroe is commonly conceived as a dwarf, one side of whose body is wood, and the other flesh. When any one approaches him, the bakroe presents his side of wood to receive the blows which he expects; but he may also take the form of an old woman, an animal, a headless cock, or an inanimate object. He haunts bridges, ditches, and wells. Bakroes are not very malicious unless molested, but they allow themselves to be used by the obiaman ("sorcerer") in his evil practices.

2 The Leba is the spirit of Misery. She is described as having the appearance of an old woman whose body is completely covered with rags. She is bowed down by a heavy burden of debts and sins, a portion of which she is constantly attempting to pass to the unwary wanderer who approaches her. Especially children fall an easy prey to her cunning. The presence of leba in a person manifests itself by loss of appetite, listlessness, - a feeling as if the body were carrying an unnatural weight. At first amulets are applied; and all kinds of light objects, such as dry leaves or pieces of cork, are worn by the sufferer with the idea of reducing the heavy weight. But if these means fail, then the patient must submit to the wiwiri-watra ("herb-water") treatment, which is administered by the obiaman.

The reader will find more detailed descriptions of leba and bakroe in an article by F. P. and A. P. Penard entitled "Surinaamsch Bijgeloof," in the Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land-, en Volkenkunde, Deel 67, Afl. 2 (The Hague, 1912), 157-183.

The azema, or azeman, is represented as an old woman who can cast off her skin and pass through very small openings, such as keyholes. She sucks the blood of her victim, who gradually loses his health. The azema may be caught in various ways. One way is to find the skin she has cast off, and rub the inside of it with Cayenne pepper: the azema will not be able to put on the skin, and may be captured. Another way is to throw some rice in front of the door: the azema feels compelled to pick up the grains, which takes her so long that she is still busy at daybreak, when she may be captured. The notion of azema is evidently closely allied to that of the Werwolf and the Vampire.