PAPA TIGER AND PAPA SHEEP

A CREOLE STORY

A LONG, long time ago the sheep was feared by all the animals on the savannas, and in the great forests. When he passed along the road, walking slowly, his face grave and stern, with his long white beard and his curved horns, it was frightful, and the animals who met him saluted him politely, then ran away as fast as their legs could carry them. Had he ever eaten any of his neighbors? The gossips of the country dared not say so positively, but he looked so terrible, that, as they say, it is better to believe it than to go to see. By degrees, from hearing it said that he was to be feared, he finally came to believe it entirely himself. Once when he was stooping over a brook to drink, he saw his image in the stream, and jumped three feet back, frightened at the sight of his beard and his horns.

A Tiger, which lived not far from Papa Sheep’s hut, plucked up all his courage one day, and determined to make a formal visit to his neighbor. He took with him his son, a little tiger already able to walk about. As far off as he could see Papa Sheep, he saluted him very humbly, and when he came near he asked after his family.

“Neighbor, I have come to pay my respects to you, and my wife would have been pleased to pay her compliments to Madam Sheep if she had not been kept at home by indisposition.”

Papa Sheep invited Papa Tiger to come into his house. While the two fathers conversed gravely on the affairs of the country, little Tiger went to play in the garden with little Sheep.

“Be very polite to little Sheep,” said his father to him, “or else he will eat you.”

So the two children began to play together; after a moment or so little Tiger jumped on little Sheep and threw him down head over heels. Then little Sheep laughed.

“Bless me! what little teeth you have!” said little Tiger to him.

“It is so with all my family; Papa’s are all like mine,” said little Sheep.

This remark made little Tiger reflect; and when the visit was over, and father and son had left their hosts, little Tiger scarcely waited for Papa Sheep to shut the door before he said to his father,—

“Papa, Papa, little Sheep has very small teeth, and he told me that his father’s were no longer than his own.”

“Hold your tongue, hold your tongue, you rascal; if Papa Sheep should hear us, he would eat us both up.”

Papa Tiger resolved, however, to know the truth of this matter. Certainly, Papa Sheep had seemed to him very fat, and only the thought of it made him lick his moustaches. But how could he see Papa Sheep’s teeth? This was not easy. Papa Sheep scarcely ever opened his mouth to speak, and his beard entirely covered his lower lip and chin. However, the opportunity came to the Tiger as it does to all those who know how to wait. The day that Papa Sheep and his son returned his visit, while the children were playing outside, he was exceedingly polite to Sheep, and gave him a bottle of his best wine, then a second, and a third. Papa Sheep became extremely gay, and losing his seriousness, he opened his mouth wide so as to enjoy his laugh. Then Papa Tiger saw his guest’s little teeth. Without hesitation he jumped on the Sheep and throttled him. Hearing his father scream, little Sheep ran off as fast as he could, and reached his home before the Tiger, excited over his first prey, had thought of following him.

All day long there were nothing but tears and groanings in the Sheep’s hut. Mamma Sheep and her son cried until it was a pity to hear them. Hearing the noise they made, the Queen of the Birds came flying from the great forest near by, and lighting on the roof of the hut, she asked Mamma Sheep the cause of her grief.

“Alas! kind lady, Papa Tiger has eaten up my poor husband! My child and I do not dare to go out, for he will come prowling around here to eat us also.”

Touched by her grief, the Queen of the Birds consoled her as well as she could, and promised her a complete revenge. Then with a few flaps of her wings she soon reached the neighboring forest. All the birds of the great forest responded to her appeal; the large Aras, with their brilliant plumage; the Cockatoos, with their white crests; thousands of emerald Paroquets, with coral beaks; little scarlet and green Humming-birds, looking like precious stones, to which God had given wings. The Queen told them of the death of Papa Sheep. “Let us swear to avenge our good neighbor,” cried she. “We swear it!” squalled, whistled, and screamed the birds, each in his own language.

At this deafening noise, the Alligators ran to hide themselves in the high grass, the Boas and Rattlesnakes ran hastily into the hollows of the trees.

“Be confident!” said the Queen of the Birds. “To-morrow is Sunday; I will give a great feast in the forest. As soon as high mass is over I wish all the birds of the forest to assemble. My pretty Paroquets, fly around and give the invitations. Get everything ready for the feast; be prompt at the appointed hour, and obey me in everything. I will fly over myself and invite Papa Tiger.”

Flattered by the visit of the Queen of the Birds, Papa Tiger promised to come to the great ball in the forest. He put on his finest clothes, curled his moustache, and before setting out he kissed his wife on her lips, and his son on his two cheeks.

As soon as they saw him come the Queen of the Birds cried to all her subjects,—

“Take your places quickly, form the quadrilles, and let each one of you begin to dance, hiding his head under his wing. Music, play!”

And the orchestra played,—

The Queen of the Birds flew down before Papa Tiger, and bade him welcome. How splendid the feast was! Papa Tiger was dazzled by it! Long lines of birds with rich plumage placed themselves opposite each other. “The quadrille is beginning now,” said the Queen; “you shall be my cavalier.” Papa Tiger stood up beside his partner, and the orchestra played,—

At once the birds, their heads under their wings, began to dance to the music. The Queen also hid her head, and when Papa Tiger, proud, and marching with his head high, was about to make the first turn, she cried,—

“But, Papa Tiger, you don’t understand! It is the custom at my court, that in order to take part in the dance, you must have no head. Look at all my invited guests; they would consider they had been wanting in the manners of distinguished society, indeed, in the simplest politeness, if they dared raise their heads before their sovereign. So, my friend, do as they do, and you will then be able to move with distinction in the quadrille of the Queen of the Birds.”

Papa Tiger blushed red with shame.

“My Queen,” he cried, “I beg your pardon humbly for this breach of etiquette. I am a wild hunter, accustomed to pass entire nights on the watch, and I am ignorant of the customs of courts. Kindly promise me a quadrille and I will return in a moment in the attitude that you require.”

With a few bounds Papa Tiger was at home. He said to his wife,—

“My wife, in order to have the honor of dancing with the Queen of the Birds, it is essential to have no head; I saw all the guests dancing in that condition. It is the etiquette of the court. Take this axe and cut off my head.”

“You have lost it already, my poor husband,” said Mamma Tiger. “Instead of dancing with Queens, you would do better to stay at home with your wife and children. I do not like husbands who leave their wives in the lurch and pass the night at balls.”

“If you do not obey me,” growled the Tiger, in a rage at being scolded by his wife, “I will strangle you this moment.”

Then Mamma Tiger seized the axe, and with one blow cut off her husband’s head. It killed him outright, as you may imagine.

Two Paroquets, waiting in ambush, flew off rapidly to carry the news of the Tiger’s death to the Queen of the Birds. Then the birds all took their heads from under their wings; all the beasts of the forest were brought in; each of them wished in his turn to embrace Mamma Sheep and her son. After that, they formed a line to dance and the orchestra began to play:—

It would be impossible to tell you how they leaped, how they fluttered! At last it was necessary to go away, for everything comes to an end in this lower world; but before doing so, they took up a collection and gave the money to little Sheep and his mother.

Sheep, and you children who hear me, let the death of Papa Sheep be a lesson to you; it is better not to open your mouth than to laugh with people you know nothing about.

Loys Bruyere.