Goats Of The Wood And Of The Town

This tale has been adapted from the original for readability:

Long ago, Spider wasn’t like he is now. In those days he’d become a proper big man, with a huge cassava farm, and he decided to show off. He invited all the goats to come and greet him, then he went out and dug up cassava after cassava, piling it higher and higher until the heap seemed to reach the sky. When he was done, he said, “Right then. Anyone who wants to go into town, off you go into town. Anyone who wants to go into the bush, off you go into the bush.” Then he shared out the cassava. To the goats who said they were going to town, he handed out four sticks each. “Am I not a person?” he boasted. “You lot should live like people.” And they answered, “All right.” But to the goats who said they wanted the bush, he only gave two sticks each. And that, people say, is why bush goats have never liked Spider, and why they keep to the bush to this day.

And there was another old tale too, about why a cow lashes her tail so fiercely. In the time when the animals could swim and talk as they pleased, the cow used to tie a big cassava to her tail, saving it there to chew later. When she wanted a bite, she would swing her tail up and thump it against her back, so she could reach and chew it properly. So when you see a cow standing there, flicking and whipping her tail against her backside, it isn’t only flies she’s chasing. She’s remembering that cassava from long ago, and the old habit of turning it within reach.