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to the jetty. The boat was still in sight, if only barely; but although they all screamed at the top of their voices for the boatman to turn back and return, it was all to no avail. The deaf boatman, his back to the jetty, poled the boat further away. All that Yemoja and her folk saw was a smiling Tortoise waving insouciantly at them!

 

But the deity was determined to have her revenge. Summoning the Crocodile, she instructed him to proceed with all dispatch, overhaul the boat, and bring back the malefactor so that she could visit condign punishment upon him.

 

The Crocodile set off at once but in spite of his phenomenal strength, so great was the distance that the boat had covered, he was only able to catch up with the boat just as the Tortoise was preparing to disembark on the opposite shore; that rapid chase had taxed the Crocodile’s much-vaunted powers! But he was a conscientious person, the Crocodile, and, tired or not, he was determined to carry out the commission with which he had been charged. So, in the sternest tones he could manage given his breathless state, the Crocodile informed the Tortoise that he had been mandated to arrest the Tortoise and bring him back to face the deity; therefore, he could not permit the Tortoise to proceed further at the present time.

 

Somewhat to the Crocodile’s surprise, the Tortoise evinced no alarm at his declaration. In calm tone, the Tortoise declared his intention of returning with the Crocodile to hear what it was that the deity had to say to him. Whatever it was, Tortoise continued, he was certain that he could explain it all.

 

“But, dear messenger,” the Tortoise went on looking at the Crocodile shrewdly, “it seems to me that you are somewhat out of breath; that long swim must have been somewhat taxing, even to one of your renowned strength!”

 

The Crocodile admitted that the swim had indeed taxed his powers.

 

“In that case”, the Tortoise continued insinuatingly, “I’m sure that a little rest before we set back will be most welcome. Coming by boat, myself, I didn’t have to tax myself at all” he finished with a kind smile.

 

The Crocodile was extremely grateful for the Tortoise’s understanding and, after the Tortoise had communicated with the boatman by means of signs that he was to wait and convey them back, the Tortoise climbed up into the branches of a nearby tree and seemed to drift off into sleep. The Crocodile was pleased at the manner things had gone; settling himself under the tree in which the Tortoise was calmly ensconced, he tried to catch a nap himself.

 

Now whilst the Crocodile was enjoying his well-deserved nap, the seemingly sleeping Tortoise’s inventive mind was working furiously as to how to get himself out of the scrape into which he had gotten himself.

 

Suddenly, the Crocodile felt someone poking at him. Snapping out of his napping state, he discovered that it was a smiling Tortoise poking at him.

 

“Say, loyal messenger,” the Tortoise declared heartily. “We oughtn’t to keep Her Majesty waiting for longer than is absolutely necessary.”

 

A pang of guilt went through the Crocodile’s body for he had been thinking along these same lines when he had fallen into his now disturbed nap. But what could he do? He was so tired that he did not think he could fulfill his office if he didn’t get a bit of rest.

 

The Tortoise had a benign smile upon his face as he answered.

 

“Just as I thought. Now, I have found in the past that if a tired person plays a game then he is more likely to recover himself than if he just lay around! Why don’t we play a game? Then we can get on our way all that much quicker.”

 

The Crocodile thought that this was a great idea, but he didn’t know any games, really. Did the Tortoise have any ideas? Well! For a while, both the Tortoise and the Crocodile lay there thinking about what game it was that they could play so as to speed up the restoration of the Crocodile’s strength. After a little while, the Tortoise brightened up and spoke excitedly.

 

“Dutiful messenger, I’ve thought of a game.”

 

The Crocodile was all ears.

 

“I don’t know if you’ve ever played this one, but it was quite a favorite when I was growing up and it always worked wonderfully to relieve fatigue.”

 

The Crocodile admitted, somewhat shamefacedly that he had never been overly involved in games; he had always been much more involved in hunting, he told the Tortoise.

 

“Well, that’s nothing to worry about” returned the Tortoise with a benign smile upon his face. “I’ll teach all about this one. It involves the use of fire, though; I have noticed, during my short sojourn amongst you folk, that you people don’t really make much use of fire, hmmmn?”

 

It was an even more embarrassed Crocodile who had to admit that fire was a rarity amongst the water-dwelling folk.

 

The Tortoise was quick to reassure him that the game was the epitome of simplicity. Without further ado, the Tortoise had gathered a great deal of dead palm fronds and other combustible materials that were littered all around the beach and built them into a pile. In the twinkling of an eye, the pile was blazing merrily. Then, climbing back up into the tree, the Tortoise came down with a very stout forked branch.

 

The game was all simplicity; one player would lie down among the burning embers whilst being held down by the other player by means of the forked branch. When the player lying in the burning embers had had enough, he would cry out “STOP!” Then the players would exchange places and a rollicking time would be had by all. By the time they had finished playing the game, the Crocodile would have recovered fully from his exhaustion. He would go first, the Tortoise declared and forthwith he leapt into the flames, lay upon his back and cried out in a joyous voice “let the play begin!”

 

This seemed a great idea to the Crocodile, and he entered into the fun most wholeheartedly. He snatched up the forked branch and pinned the Tortoise down in that fiery heap, at the same time that the Tortoise withdrew his head and all his other extremities into the recesses of his shell. After a while, out popped the Tortoise’s head and from his mouth came “STOP!”

 

The Crocodile stopped immediately and the Tortoise jumped out of the now red-hot embers. Declaring that he had never felt so rejuvenated in his entire life, the Tortoise begged that the Crocodile allow him another go!

 

This request was not to the Crocodile’s liking; it was his turn. The Tortoise had had his go, and it seemed unfair to the Crocodile that the Tortoise wanted another shot at the fun when he had yet to have a go! And the Crocodile made his views known in no uncertain terms. The Tortoise was all contrite; the pleasure of the game had so overwhelmed his senses as to overcome his natural belief in fair play! It was a most humbly apologetic Tortoise who agreed that it was the Crocodile’s turn.

 

“But, you must agree to let me have another go before we leave to return to Yemoja!” the Tortoise declared and the Crocodile was pleased to acquiesce to the Tortoise’s demand.

 

So the Crocodile leapt into the red-hot embers and, lying on his back, cried out “let the play begin”. The Tortoise was more than willing to set the play into motion. Grabbing the forked branch, he pinned the Crocodile down in the hot embers with all his strength. Now, after a few minutes, the Crocodile began to think that this was a pretty hot game! Unable to bear the increasing heat, he cried out “STOP!”

 

The Tortoise was completely unmoved. Laughing maniacally, he held the Crocodile down with all his strength and, although he struggled fearsomely, not even the Crocodile’s great strength was sufficient to enable him break out from the trap in which he had unwittingly placed himself. As the Crocodile’s struggles grew feebler with every passing minute, the boatman cast off and, poling furiously, went posthaste to report to Yemoja all that had happened. Most of the presents that that grateful deity had given to the Tortoise were still in the boat, for the Tortoise had only brought out one bundle of the numerous ones packed in the boat at the time that the Crocodile had arrived on his mission. As for the Crocodile, he was roasted to death in those hot embers.

 

The Tortoise was a little bit sorry that the boatman had fled with his presents but, all in all, he considered the loss small in exchange for his life; for he was absolutely certain in his mind that if he had had to return to face that furious and grieving deity not even his much-vaunted fluency of tongue would have availed to save his skin. So it was with a light heart that the Tortoise opened up the only package left to him. To his delight it contained some extremely fine and sharp knives as well as several lengths of tough, durable cloth. With a song on his lips and merriment in his heart, the Tortoise set about the butchering of Yemoja’s unfortunate messenger.

HOMEWARD BOUND

 

Sometime later, the Tortoise had completed his job as butcher and had partially smoked the chunks of meat that used to the Crocodile so as to preserve them on his homeward journey. Once the chunks of meat were done to his satisfaction, the Tortoise carefully arranged the meat and wrapped them up in the manner of a corpse in the cloths that were in the one package that he had been able to get away with from all the presents that the grateful Yemoja had bestowed upon him. Placing the package upon his head, the Tortoise began to make his way home.

 

As the Tortoise started to approach closer to home, he began to weep, wailing at the top of his voice with the tears flowing copiously from his eyes. As he started to meet other passers-by, they asked him as to the cause of the tears. It was his beloved mother, the Tortoise declared; she had finally succumbed to the effects of the dreadful famine and given up the ghost. Even now, he was on his way to perform the final rites as demanded by family tradition and practice. Everyone that he met was full of sympathy for all knew that the famine had caused considerable ravages amongst all members of the community. Many offered to go with him to assist in the burial rites but unfortunately this was not to be for, as the Tortoise explained sadly, it was a peculiar family custom amongst his lineage that a mother's burial be performed solely by her son. So, the folk commiserated with him and went their way whilst the Tortoise continued on his. Just as he thought he had outwitted all inquirers, for his home was now just around the next corner or two, the Tortoise met up with the Leopard. In answer to the Leopard's inquiry, the Tortoise made his now customary response.

 

However, the Leopard was just a tad skeptical. He

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