0,99 €
Mehr erfahren.
- Herausgeber: Abela Publishing
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
ISSN: 2397-9607 Issue 57In Issue 57 of the Baba Indaba Children's Stories, Baba Indaba narrates the Celtic legend of A Good Action. The Dagda sat with his back to an oak tree. He looked like a workman, and his hands were as hard as the hands of a mason, but his hair was braided like the hair of a king. He had on a green cloak with nine capes, and along the border of every cape there was a running pattern embroidered in gold and silver and purple thread. Opposite the Dagda sat his son, Angus Og, with his hands clasped about his knees. He was in rags, and his hair was matted like the hair of a beggar: a bramble had scratched his nose, but his eyes were smiling…..and so begins the legend of the Dagda and the Great Harp.Baba Indaba is a fictitious Zulu storyteller who narrates children's stories from around the world. “Baba Indaba” translates as "Father of Stories".Each issue also has a "WHERE IN THE WORLD - LOOK IT UP" section, where young readers are challenged to look up a place on a map somewhere in the world. The place, town or city is relevant to the story, on map. HINT - use Google maps.INCLUDES LINKS TO DOWNLOAD 8 FREE STORIES33% of the profit from the sale of this book will be donated to charities.
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
Ähnliche
A GOOD ACTION
A CELTIC FOLK TALE
Baba Indaba Children’s Stories
Published By
Abela Publishing, London
2016
A GOOD ACTION
Typographical arrangement of this edition
©Abela Publishing 2016
This book may not be reproduced in its current format
in any manner in any media, or transmitted
by any means whatsoever, electronic,
electrostatic, magnetic tape, or mechanical
(including photocopy, file or video recording,
internet web sites, blogs, wikis, or any other
information storage and retrieval system)
except as permitted by law
without the prior written permission
of the publisher.
Abela Publishing,
London, United Kingdom
2016
ISSN: 2367-9607
Issue 57
Email:
Website:
www.AbelaPublishing.com
Introduction
Baba Indaba, pronounced Baaba Indaaba, lived in Africa a long-long time ago. Indeed, this story was first told by Baba Indaba to the British settlers over 250 years ago in a place on the South East Coast of Africa called Zululand, which is now in a country now called South Africa.
In turn the British settlers wrote these stories down and they were brought back to England on sailing ships. From England they were in turn spread to all corners of the old British Empire, and then to the world.
In olden times the Zulu’s did not have computers, or iPhones, or paper, or even pens and pencils. So, someone was assigned to be the Wenxoxi Indaba (Wensosi Indaaba) – the Storyteller. It was his, or her, job to memorise all the tribe’s history, stories and folklore, which had been passed down from generation to generation for thousands of years. So, from the time he was a young boy, Baba Indaba had been apprenticed to the tribe’s Wenxoxi Indaba to learn the stories. Every day the Wenxoxi Indaba would narrate the stories and Baba Indaba would have to recite the story back to the Wenxoxi Indaba, word for word. In this manner he learned the stories of the Zulu nation.
In time the Wenxoxi Indaba grew old and when he could no longer see or hear, Baba Indaba became the next in a long line of Wenxoxi Indabas. So fond were the children of him that they continued to call him Baba Indaba – the Father of Stories.
When the British arrived in South Africa, he made it his job to also learn their stories. He did this by going to work at the docks at the Point in Port Natal at a place the Zulu people call Ethekwene (Eh-tek-weh-nee). Here he spoke to many sailors and ships captains. Captains of ships that sailed to the far reaches of the British Empire – Canada, Australia, India, Mauritius, the Caribbean and beyond.
He became so well known that ship’s crew would bring him a story every time they visited Port Natal. If they couldn’t, they would arrange to have someone bring it to him. This way his library of stories grew and grew until he was known far and wide as the keeper of stories – a true Wenxoxi Indaba of the world.
Baba Indaba believes the tale he is about to tell in this little book, and all the others he has learned, are the common property of Umntwana (Children) of every nation in the world - and so they are and have been ever since men and women began telling stories, thousands and thousands of years ago.
Where in the World – Look it Up!
This next story was told to him by a sailor from Mulranny. Can you find Mulranny on a map? What country is it in?
The Dagda
Artist Unknown
A GOOD ACTION
A Celtic Folk Tale
A story, a story
Let it come, let it go
A story, a story
From long, long ago!
HE DAGDAsat with his back to an oak tree. He looked like a workman, and his hands were as hard as the hands of a mason, but his hair was braided like the hair of a king. He had on a green cloak with nine capes, and along the border of every cape there was a running pattern embroidered in gold and silver and purple thread. Opposite the Dagda sat his son, Angus Og, with his hands clasped about his knees. He was in rags, and his hair was matted like the hair of a beggar: a bramble had scratched his nose, but his eyes were smiling.
"If you only knew how ridiculous you look in that cloak," he was saying to the Dagda, "you would not wear it."
"My son," said the Dagda, with dignity, "it is the only cloak the people of the Fomor have left me, and the evening is cold."
"Why don't you keep yourself warm by working?" said Angus. "It's what I would do myself if you had brought me up to a trade."
"Angus," said his father, "remember I am one of the gods: it is not necessary to talk sense to me."
"O dear! " said Angus, "a bramble scratched me on the nose this morning--it's all because you have lost your Magic Harp and the Cauldron of Plenty! Soon even the snails will make faces at me. I can't go wandering round Ireland in comfort any more. I'll change myself into a salmon and swim in the sea."
"The salmon must come up the rivers once a year, and when you come the Fomorians will take you in their net, and it is likely Balor, their king, will eat you."
"'Ochone a rie! ' I must be something else! I'll be an eagle."
"You will shiver in the icy grip of the wind that goes before the Fomor--the black bitter wind that blows them hither to darken the sun for us."
"'Ochone, Ochone, my Grief and my Trouble!' I must think of something else. I'll be a good action. The Fomor never meddle with a good action."
While Angus was talking a Pooka came out from between the trees. It looked like a little snow-white kid with golden horns and silver hoofs, but it could take any shape it had a fancy for. When it saw Angus it smiled and made one jump on to his shoulder.
Look at this " said Angus. " I never can say anything important without being interrupted!"
"What do you want?" he said to the Pooka, pretending to be cross.
"O nothing at all, only to listen to your wise talk; it does me good," said the Pooka, prancing on Angus' shoulder.
"Well, keep quiet if you want to listen!" said Angus. "I was saying," he continued to the Dagda, "I will be a good action."
Just at that moment an ugly deformed animal, with a head like the head of a pig and a hound's body, came tearing through the wood; behind it was a young boy of the Fomor. He was ugly and deformed, but he had a rich cloak and a gold circle on his head. The moment he saw the Pooka he threw a fire-ball at it. The Pooka jumped behind Angus, and Angus caught the fire-ball. It went out in his hand.
"I am a Prince of the Fomor," said the boy, trying to look big.
"I was thinking as much," said Angus; "you have princely manners."
"I am Balor's own son. I have come out to look for treasure, and if you have anything I command you to give it to me at once."
"What would you like?" said Angus.
