Just so stories
we won’t do any more to-day. We’ve got shu-ya all right, haven’t we? But
this las is a teaser. La-la-la’ and he waved his shark-tooth.
‘There’s the hissy-snake at the end and the carp-mouth before the
snake--as-as-as. We only want la-la,’ said Taffy.
‘I know it, but we have to make la-la. And we’re the first people in all
the world who’ve ever tried to do it, Taffimai!’
‘Well,’ said Taffy, yawning, for she was rather tired. ‘Las means
breaking or finishing as well as ending, doesn’t it?’
‘So it does,’ said Tegumai. ‘To-las means that there’s no water in the
tank for Mummy to cook with--just when I’m going hunting, too.’
‘And shi-las means that your spear is broken. If I’d only thought of
that instead of drawing silly beaver pictures for the Stranger!’
‘La! La! La!’ said Tegumai, waiving his stick and frowning. ‘Oh bother!’
‘I could have drawn shi quite easily,’ Taffy went on. ‘Then I’d have
drawn your spear all broken--this way!’ And she drew. (14.)
‘The very thing,’ said Tegumai. ‘That’s la all over. It isn’t like any
of the other marks either.’ And he drew this. (15.)
‘Now for ya. Oh, we’ve done that before. Now for maru. Mum-mum-mum. Mum
shuts one’s mouth up, doesn’t it? We’ll draw a shut mouth like this.’
And he drew. (16.)
‘Then the carp-mouth open. That makes Ma-ma-ma! But what about this
rrrrr-thing, Taffy?’
‘It sounds all rough and edgy, like your shark-tooth saw when you’re
cutting out a plank for the canoe,’ said Taffy.
‘You mean all sharp at the edges, like this?’ said Tegumai. And he drew.
(17.)
‘’Xactly,’ said Taffy. ‘But we don’t want all those teeth: only put
two.’
‘I’ll only put in one,’ said Tegumai. ‘If this game of ours is going
to be what I think it will, the easier we make our sound-pictures the
better for everybody.’ And he drew. (18.)
‘Now, we’ve got it,’ said Tegumai, standing on one leg. ‘I’ll draw ‘em
all in a string like fish.’
‘Hadn’t we better put a little bit of stick or something between each
word, so’s they won’t rub up against each other and jostle, same as if
they were carps?’
‘Oh, I’ll leave a space for that,’ said her Daddy. And very incitedly he
drew them all without stopping, on a big new bit of birch-bark. (19.)
‘Shu-ya-las ya-maru,’ said Taffy, reading it out sound by sound.
‘That’s enough for to-day,’ said Tegumai. ‘Besides, you’re getting
tired, Taffy. Never mind, dear. We’ll finish it all to-morrow, and then
we’ll be remembered for years and years after the biggest trees you can
see are all chopped up for firewood.’
So they went home, and all that evening Tegumai sat on one side of the
fire and Taffy on the other, drawing ya’s and yo’s and shu’s and shi’s
in the smoke on the wall and giggling together till her Mummy said,
‘Really, Tegumai, you’re worse than my Taffy.’
‘Please don’t mind,’ said Taffy. ‘It’s only our secret-s’prise, Mummy
dear, and we’ll tell you all about it the very minute it’s done; but
please don’t ask me what it is now, or else I’ll have to tell.’
So her Mummy most carefully didn’t; and bright and early next morning
Tegumai went down to the river to think about new sound pictures,
and when Taffy got up she saw Ya-las (water is ending or running out)
chalked on the side of the big stone water-tank, outside the Cave.
‘Um,’ said Taffy. ‘These picture-sounds are rather a bother! Daddy’s
just as good as come here himself and told me to get more water for
Mummy to cook with.’ She went to the spring at the back of the house and
filled the tank from a bark bucket, and then she ran down to the river
and pulled her Daddy’s left ear--the one that belonged to her to pull
when she was good.
‘Now come along and we’ll draw all the left-over sound-pictures,’ said
her Daddy, and they had a most inciting day of it, and a beautiful lunch
in the middle, and two games of romps. When they came to T, Taffy said
that as her name, and her Daddy’s, and her Mummy’s all began with that
sound, they should draw a sort of family group of themselves holding
hands. That was all very well to draw once or twice; but when it came to
drawing it six or seven times, Taffy and Tegumai drew it scratchier and
scratchier, till at last the T-sound was only a thin long Tegumai with
his arms out to hold Taffy and Teshumai. You can see from these three
pictures partly how it happened. (20, 21, 22.)
Many of the other pictures were much too beautiful to begin with,
especially before lunch, but as they were drawn over and over again on
birch-bark, they became plainer and easier, till at last even Tegumai
said he could find no fault with them. They turned the hissy-snake the
other way round for the Z-sound, to show it was hissing backwards in a
soft and gentle way (23); and they just made a twiddle for E, because
it came into the pictures so often (24); and they drew pictures of the
sacred Beaver of the Tegumais for the B-sound (25, 26, 27, 28); and
because it was a nasty, nosy noise, they just drew noses for the
N-sound, till they were tired (29); and they drew a picture of the big
lake-pike’s mouth for the greedy Ga-sound (30); and they drew the pike’s
mouth again with a spear behind it for the scratchy, hurty Ka-sound
(31); and they drew pictures of a little bit of the winding Wagai river
for the nice windy-windy Wa-sound (32, 33); and so on and so forth and
so following till they had done and drawn all the sound-pictures that
they wanted, and there was the Alphabet, all complete.
And after thousands and thousands and thousands of years, and after
Hieroglyphics and Demotics, and Nilotics, and Cryptics, and Cufics, and
Runics, and Dorics, and Ionics, and all sorts of other ricks and
tricks (because the Woons, and the Neguses, and the Akhoonds, and the
Repositories of Tradition would never leave a good thing alone when they
saw it), the fine old easy, understandable Alphabet--A, B, C, D, E,
and the rest of ‘em--got back into its proper shape again for all Best
Beloveds to learn when they are old enough.
But I remember Tegumai Bopsulai, and Taffimai Metallumai and Teshumai
Tewindrow, her dear Mummy, and all the days gone by. And it was so--just
so--a little time ago--on the banks of the big Wagai!
OF all the Tribe of Tegumai
Who cut that figure, none remain,--
On Merrow Down the cuckoos cry
The silence and the sun remain.
But as the faithful years return
And hearts unwounded sing again,
Comes Taffy dancing through the fern
To lead the Surrey spring again.
Her brows are bound with bracken-fronds,
And golden elf-locks fly above;
Her eyes are bright as diamonds
And bluer than the skies above.
In mocassins and deer-skin cloak,
Unfearing, free and fair she flits,
And lights her little damp-wood smoke
To show her Daddy where she flits.
For far--oh, very far behind,
So far she cannot call to him,
Comes Tegumai alone to find
The daughter that was all to him.
THE CRAB THAT PLAYED WITH THE SEA
BEFORE the High and Far-Off Times, O my Best Beloved, came the Time of
the Very Beginnings; and that was in the days when the Eldest Magician
was getting Things ready. First he got the Earth ready; then he got the
Sea ready; and then he told all the Animals that they could come out and
play. And the Animals said, ‘O Eldest Magician, what shall we play
at?’ and he said, ‘I will show you. He took the
Elephant--All-the-Elephant-there-was--and said, ‘Play at being
an Elephant,’ and All-the-Elephant-there-was played. He took the
Beaver--All-the-Beaver-there-was and said, ‘Play at being a Beaver,’
and All-the Beaver-there-was played. He took the Cow--All-the
Cow-there-was--and said, ‘Play at being a Cow,’ and
All-the-Cow-there-was played. He took the Turtle--All-the-Turtle
there-was and said, ‘Play at being a Turtle,’ and
All-the-Turtle-there-was played. One by one he took all the beasts and
birds and fishes and told them what to play at.
But towards evening, when people and things grow restless and tired,
there came up the Man (With his own little girl-daughter?)--Yes, with
his own best beloved little girl-daughter sitting upon his shoulder, and
he said, ‘What is this play, Eldest Magician?’ And the Eldest Magician
said, ‘Ho, Son of Adam, this is the play of the Very Beginning; but you
are too wise for this play.’ And the Man saluted and said, ‘Yes, I am
too wise for this play; but see that you make all the Animals obedient
to me.’
Now, while the two were talking together, Pau Amma the Crab, who was
next in the game, scuttled off sideways and stepped into the sea, saying
to himself, ‘I will play my play alone in the deep waters, and I will
never be obedient to this son of Adam.’ Nobody saw him go away except
the little girl-daughter where she leaned on the Man’s shoulder. And the
play went on till there were no more Animals left without orders; and
the Eldest Magician wiped the fine dust off his hands and walked about
the world to see how the Animals were playing.
He went North, Best Beloved, and he found All-the-Elephant-there-was
digging with his tusks and stamping with his feet in the nice new clean
earth that had been made ready for him.
‘Kun?’ said All-the-Elephant-there-was, meaning, ‘Is this right?’
‘Payah kun,’ said the Eldest Magician, meaning, ‘That is quite
right’; and he breathed upon the great rocks and lumps of earth that
All-the-Elephant-there-was had thrown up, and they became the great
Himalayan Mountains, and you can look them out on the map.
He went East, and he found All-the-Cow there-was feeding in the field
that had been made ready for her, and she licked her tongue round a
whole forest at a time, and swallowed it and sat down to chew her cud.
‘Kun?’ said All-the-Cow-there-was.
‘Payah kun,’ said the Eldest Magician; and he breathed upon the bare
patch where she had eaten, and upon the place where she had sat down,
and one became the great Indian Desert, and the other became the Desert
of Sahara, and you can look them out on the map.
He went West, and he found All-the-Beaver-there-was making a beaver-dam
across the mouths of broad rivers that had been got ready for him.
‘Kun?’ said All-the-Beaver-there-was.
‘Payah kun,’ said the Eldest Magician; and he breathed upon the fallen
trees and the still water, and they became the Everglades in Florida,
and you may look them out on the map.
Then he went South and found All-the-Turtle-there-was scratching with
his flippers in the sand that had been got ready for him, and the sand
and the rocks whirled through the air and fell far off into the sea.
‘Kun?’ said All-the-Turtle-there-was.
‘Payah kun,’ said the Eldest Magician; and he breathed upon the sand and
the rocks, where they had fallen in the sea, and they became the most
beautiful islands of Borneo, Celebes, Sumatra, Java, and the rest of the
Malay Archipelago, and you can look them out on the map!
By and by the Eldest Magician met the Man on the banks of the Perak
river, and said, ‘Ho! Son of Adam, are all the Animals obedient to you?’
‘Yes,’ said the Man.
‘Is all the Earth obedient to you?’
‘Yes,’ said the Man.
‘Is all the Sea obedient to you?’
‘No,’ said the Man. ‘Once a day and once a night the Sea runs up the
Perak river and drives the sweet-water back into the forest, so that my
house is made wet; once a day and once a night it runs down the river
and draws all the water after it, so that there is nothing left but mud,
and my canoe is upset. Is that the play you told it to play?’
‘No,’ said the Eldest Magician. ‘That is a new and a bad play.’
‘Look!’ said the Man, and as he spoke the great Sea came up the mouth of
the Perak river, driving the river backwards till it overflowed all the