The Baboons Who Went This Way and That (10 page)

When an important chief died down in that far part of the country, there were many people who went to see him buried. It was a time of great sorrow, as this chief had ruled over many people for many years and had been the son of one who had served with a very great chief.

Two friends, who liked to play tricks on one another and on other people, decided that they would go to the burial too. They walked past a place where there were many mourners, all sitting under a tree and singing about how sad they were that the chief had died.

“We are very sad too,” the two friends said. “We are sad because that great chief was our father.”

When they heard this, the people under the tree were surprised. They asked the two friends if they were sure that the chief was their father, and they replied that they were.

“You must give us money,” one friend said. “You must give us money because we are the sons of the one who has died.”

The people knew that they should do this, but they were unwilling to give money to people whom they did not know.

“If you come with us to the grave,” they said, “then we shall be able to find out whether you really are the sons of that great chief.”

The two friends agreed to do this. There was no reason for them to refuse to go to the grave, and already they were thinking of ways of fooling these people under the tree.

When they reached the grave, there were many people milling about, calling out in sorrow and saying how sad they were that the chief had gone. Even those who had not liked the chief were there, saying that they were more sorry than any others. If the chief had been alive, he would have been pleased to see so many of his enemies shedding so many tears on his death.

The people from under the tree told one of the friends to stand by the side of the grave. He did this, but while he was moving into that position, the other friend hid in a bush which grew near the edge of the grave.

Then one of the people from under the tree called out into the sky.

“Is it true that these men are your sons?”

Everybody was surprised when a voice called out:

“They are my sons. And you must give them lots of money.”

“The chief himself has spoken to us,” the people from under the tree said. “We must do as he says.”

The other friend then slipped out of the bush. The voice had been his, of course, but everybody had thought that it had come from the grave.

The two friends stood respectfully by the grave while people walked past and put money into a box which one of the friends had with him. Then, crying loudly to show how sad they were, they walked back to the house of one of them.

“I shall keep the money here until it is counted,” said the friend whose house it was. “Then one day you may come and claim your half share.”

The next day, the friend returned to the house of the friend who had kept the money. That friend’s wife greeted him sadly and told him that his friend was unfortunately very ill and would have to stay in his bed for a long time.

“He will not be able to give you your money,” she said. “He is too ill to do that.”

“Then I shall wait,” said the other friend. “I shall wait by his bedside until he is better.”

“That may not be for a few years,” said the wife. “He says that he is very ill.”

“I can wait that long,” said the friend.

The wife could not persuade him to go away and so she had to show him into the friend’s room. The ill friend was lying under a blanket, his face covered and only his toes showing at the end.

“I am here to wait,” the friend said. “When you are better we shall be able to divide the money that those people gave us.”

The friend in bed said nothing.

As the day wore on, it became hotter and hotter. The friend under the blanket began to feel as if he were in an oven, and then, at last, he had to throw the blanket aside to let cool air in.

“I am glad that you are better,” his friend said to him. “Now we shall be able to divide the money.”

Reluctantly, because he knew that there was nothing else he could do, the friend retrieved the box and gave his friend his share of the money. The friend thanked him and said how pleased he was that his friend had recovered from his illness.

“You are fortunate to get better in two hours rather than two years,” he said. “Perhaps it is the good hot air that cured you so quickly.”

The friend who had pretended to be ill buried his share of the money in a tin box. Unfortunately for him, the box had a hole in it and when he dug it up the following month the ants had eaten all the money. His wife told him that this is what happened to people who obtained money through tricks.

“The ants like to play tricks too,” she said. “It is your own fault for being such a wicked trickster.”

The other friend fell into a large hole on his way home from collecting the money. He was unable to get himself out of it and so he was very pleased when he saw some people walking by. These people were the people who had been under the tree.