The•Courage•of•||kabbo * Celebrating•the•100th•Anniversary•of•the•Publication•of•• Specimens•of•Bushman•Folklore edited•by•Janette•Deacon•and•Pippa•Skotnes ‘THE •WOLF • AND • THE •M AN ’• K ATRIENA •SWARTZ R ECORDED • AND • EDITED • BY •J OSÉ •MANUEL • DE •PR ADA-SAMPER TR ANSL ATED • FROM •A FRIK A ANS • BY •MARLENE •WINBERG The•Wolf•and•the•Man This•is•a•short•story. I’m•not•going•to•stretch•it•out. The•man•walked•along•the•road, but•he•wasn’t•in•a•hurry; he•didn’t•look•around. The•road•is•not•straight; he•must•go•over•three•hills.1 He•walks•along•the•road, and•he•is•walking; and•now•he•is•looking•there, he•is•looking•there, and•so•he•is•walking. And•when•he•got•to•the•highest•hill there•were•another•two•hills. It•goes•on,•stretches•out. When•he•was•on•top•of•the•hill, he•saw•in•front: ‘Something•is•coming•along•the•road!’ And•he•thinks: ‘What•can•that•be? It’s•danger!’ So•he•wants•to•do•something, but•he•can’t•think. He•can’t•go•left, he•can’t•go•right, he•must•just•go•on•the•road. Then•he•saw•it’s•a•Wolf that’s•coming•straight•on•to•him. But•the•Wolf•didn’t•see•him! He•saw•the•Wolf•first! Then•he•decided•he•is•just•going•to•lie, he•is•going•to•keep•himself•dead, keep•himself•dead. Because•he•had•heard that•a•wolf•grabs•you, And•runs•with•you•against•the•wind until•you’re•dead, your•breath•is•out, but•then•he•eats•you•[alive].2 He•is•[pretending•to•be]•dead3 he•keeps•his•breath•in. Here•comes•the•Wolf, then•he•smells: ‘This•is•a•human!’ The•first•smell•the•Wolf•thinks: ‘You’re•not•dead! You’re•not•dead!’•[audience laughs] He•takes•him and•he•bites•him•in•the•stomach so•he•can•see•if•the•man•[is•alive]. But•the•man•is•getting•so•sore, he•is•laying, he•keeps•his•breath•up, he•is•dead, he•is•dead. 383 1•Afrikaans:•bultjies. 2•This•last•word•cannot•be•heard• clearly•in•the•recording.•What•is• clear•is•that,•in•order•to•devour•him,• the•Wolf•must•make•sure•that•the• man•is•alive,•and•that•is•the•purpose• of•the•dreaded•operation•of•running• with•him•against•the•wind.•In•an• unrecorded•conversation,•Marlene• Swartz,•the•story-teller’s•daughter,• told•me•that•the•‘wolf’•of•this•tale•is• not•a•hyena,•but•a•proper•wolf,•and• that•this•animal•cannot•eat•a•prey• that•is•already•dead.•In•a•telephone• conversation•with•Marlene•Winberg,• several•months•after•the•conference• in•Cape•Town,•Katriena•said•that•this• is•how•the•story•has•been•told•to•her,• so•she•cannot•explain•why•the•Wolf• must•make•sure•that•the•man•is•alive• before•it•can•eat•him,•although•she•is• aware•that•this•detail•is•what•makes• the•story•so•interesting.•In•the•classic• |xam•version•told•by•Dia!kwain,• the•lion•has•no•qualms•about•eating• a•dead•person,•but•for•three•times• it•verifies•that•his•body•is•properly• placed•in•the•branches•of•a•low•tree,• and•before•actually•walking•away• towards•the•waterhole•to•quench•his• thirst•the•lion•looks•back•three•times• to•make•sure•that•the•man•is•really• dead•(Bleek•&•Lloyd•1911:•175–9).•In• all•likelihood,•the•‘wolf’•in•Katriena’s• narrative•was•originally•a•lion,• although•its•identity•as•such•was• forgotten•in•the•transmission•process,• maybe•because•of•the•use•of•‘respect• names’•for•the•lion. 3•Afrikaans:•morsdood. I 1 It is worth noting, however, that in her Cape Times article, the above mentioned Olga Racster, who accompanied Dorothea in the 1911 field trip, mentions having heard stories from at least one of the people they met at Prieska Location, one of them the well-known tale of the Moon and the Hare. The fact that there is not a trace of these narratives in Bleek’s notebooks suggests that the story-telling happened only for Racster’s benefit, when her travel companion was absent. Apparently, Racster, who in 1911 was beginning her career as journalist, theatre and music critic and dramatist, succeeded where were aspiring ethnographer Dorothea had utterly failed. 2 Elias Namaseb, who collected oral narratives among the last surviving speakers of N|u, a language closely related to |xam, explains in his KVJ[VYHS[OLZPZHIV\[“RVTHUPVYHS literature that it took him more than five years to obtain stories from the three sisters of Anna Kassie, although Anna herself had proved to be a willing consultant since their first encounter. Namaseb, who is Khoekhoe himself, suggests that the sisters’ initial denial of knowing any stories was due to his having ignored during his fieldwork the “RVTHUPWYV[VJVSZMVYHZ[VY`telling performance to take place. ‘Every community’—he writes—‘is proud of their culture, and does not tolerate any gesture that would belittle or devalue their culture ... That is why the three sisters denied any knowledge of the stories. They refused to assume the stereotypical role of the storytellers that foreigners try to impose on them. Their stories were not right for this type of occasion’ (Namaseb 2006, n an article about the oral narratives of the |xam published in 1929, Dorothea F. Bleek wrote that 50 years before ‘every adult Bushman knew all his people’s lore’ but that in 1910, when she visited the area from which the informants of her father and aunt came, ‘[n]ot one of them knew a single story’. Dorothea carried with her a set of proofs from Specimens of Bushman Folklore and when she read some of the texts to her informants, ‘a couple of old men recognized a few customs and said, “I once heard my people tell that.” But the folklore was dead, killed by a life of service among strangers and the breaking up of families’ (Bleek 1929b: 311–12). In the last 80 years, Dorothea’s categorical assertion about the demise of the rich traditions of the |xam has cast a long shadow. It has always been taken at face value and nobody has questioned it, in spite of the fact that Dorothea’s own field notebooks (BC 151, A3.01 & A3.04), and the testimony of Olga Racster (1911), who accompanied her to Prieska in 1911, leave no doubt that these early field trips to the Northern Cape were formative and difficult ones for Bleek (see Bank 2006b), even though at Prieska she found some of the people that had been in Cape Town for a short period in the early months of 1884. Although she eventually developed remarkable skills as a fieldworker (see Weintroub 2010, 2011), these were not yet developed during the 1910 and 1911 trips on which she based her 1929 certification of the death of the tradition that her father and aunt had so carefully documented from 1870 to 1884. The results of these early field trips were mostly in the form of linguistic data and photographs. Given her own inexperience, and the short time she stayed at the places she visited, it is no wonder that she was unable to record stories.1 The references to graves in her 1911 field notebook (A3.04: 171, 187) suggest also that during that trip she dug graves, an action that cannot have earned her the trust of the communities who were the subject of her research. On the other hand, anyone who has attempted to collect oral narratives of any kind, especially traditional stories, knows that the first reaction of many people when asked about them is to flatly deny all knowledge of such things. It takes time, very often a lot of time, to win the confidence of the men and women who carry these traditions, and who may have all sorts of reasons (very often quite legitimate) to distrust an outsider who comes out of the blue requesting old stories. I have had a similar experience when working in the rural areas of my own country, Spain. It is no wonder that Dorothea could not collect a single narrative.2 In 2005, when I first visited the former |xam territory, I was surprised so see so many people who, judging from their physical appearance, were obviously of Khoisan descent. Although I knew of Janette Deacon’s pioneering work in the area in search of descendants of the informants of Bleek and Lloyd, and of her encounter with an elderly man who still knew a few words in |xam (Deacon 1996a, 1996b), I accepted the widespread notion that it was next to impossible to obtain any information from 384 The•Wolf•bites,•bites•him•in•the•stomach; the•man•keeps•himself•stock•still. The•Wolf’s•steps•on•him, he•chews•on•his•nose. Oh,•he•is•so•sore! But•he•keeps•his•breath•in. Then•the•Wolf•decided: ‘But•this•man•must•be•dead, although•he•doesn’t•look•like•a•dead• person.’ But•he•is•so•thirsty, he•is•very•thirsty! So•he•goes•running•with•him; he•is•going•to•make•dead•sure that• this• person• that• he• found• today• is• dead. Because•somewhere•[in•his•body] there•is•something•warm,• he•is•not•sure•what•is•warm, but•he•feels,•feels•his•nose•is•warm. He•chews,•chews, bites,•bites,•in•his•stomach. And•then•the•Wolf•decides that•now•he•is•going•to•grab•him. And•he•grabs•him•by•the•stomach and• there• he• runs• with• him• against• the• wind so•that•the•man’s•breath•can•blow•away. (When• you• are• behind• a• bakkie,• a• truck,• [audience•laughs] and•the•wind•comes,• then•you•know•your•breath•[goes•away].) The•man•is•keeping•his•mouth•closed, his•nose•closed. Oh,•he’s•bleeding!• He•is•so•sore! The•Wolf•throws•the•man•down, smells,•smells, doesn’t•want•to•believe•this•man•is•dead, this•man•is•not•dead•yet! Takes•sand•and•scratches•sand•over•the• man, especially•his•face, rolls•this•side,•rolls•that•side•in•the•sand, bites•him•in•his•stomach. The•man•keeps•himself•stiff, the•man•keeps•himself•dead. The•Wolf•is•too•thirsty, the•Wolf•thinks he•must•first•go•and•find•water. And•the•Wolf•runs, and•the•Wolf•runs. But•the•man•in•the•meantime•is•so•sore, oh•his•stomach•is•so•sore,•so•broken, his•nose•is•bleeding! He,•as•quick•as•he•can, is•moving•away•from•that•place, because• by• tonight• he• is• going• to• be• eaten•up, he•is•going•to•be•wolf•food. Now•he•knows that• the• Wolf• is• not• going• to• continue• running,4 the•wolf•is•just•going•over•the•first•hill, [then]•the•second•hill, maybe•three•times•he’ll•come•back, standing•on•the•hill, to•look•at•the•man to•make•sure 385 4•Afrikaans:•aanhou•hol. the electronic version consulted has no pagination). Namaseb’s experience not only helps us to understand why Dorothea Bleek couldn’t find anyone willing to tell her stories, but also invites us to reflect on the complex set of circumstances and motivations that induced |a!kuńta, ||kabbo and the others to share their stories and other knowledge with Wilhelm Bleek and Lucy Lloyd. 3 Other researchers have interviewed San descendants in other parts of southern Africa (see Jolly 1986; Jolly & Prins 1994, Prins 2009) but, as far as I know, they have not published any narratives. More recently, Renée Rust has collected oral stories from people of Khoisan descent in the Klein Karoo, some of which she published in a recent book about the rock art of the area (Rust & Van de Poll 2011). these modern day descendants about the traditions and way of life of their ancestors, since the general attitude among most of them, at least in areas like the Cederberg, was of flat denial of any connection with the stigmatised ‘Bushmen’. At the time I was unaware of the work of Ansie Hoff, who had conducted research in the area from 1991 and established the presence of |xam descendants who had retained at least some knowledge of the beliefs of their ancestors (see Hoff 1997, 1998).3 When, in 2010, I drafted a work plan to be developed during my period as postdoctoral research fellow at the University of Cape Town’s Centre for Curating the Archive, I included, among the essential work, a field trip to the former |xam territory aimed at recording the oral narratives among the present inhabitants of the area, both white farmers and ‘coloured’ labourers. My idea was to record personal and family histories rather than traditional narratives, as I accepted the general view that there were none to be obtained, with the exception, maybe, of a few tales of European or Nama origin. Yet I felt that it was important to record at least the generational memories of a people who, although largely seen as members of a rural working class with little sense of community and no historical consciousness, were to a great extent descendants of the survivors of one of the worst genocides in history—an unmemorialised tragedy that the reconciliation and redress policies of the new South Africa had largely ignored. I was hoping to find stories about the extermination campaigns which, in the second half of the nineteenth century, had almost completely wiped out the whole |xam population and succeeded in putting an end to their way of life. In March 2011, with the support of the Centre for Curating the Archive, I conducted a 15-day field trip to document the weather phenomena in the former |xam territory during the late summer rains. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I conducted a few preliminary interviews at Varskans, Brandvlei, Swartkop and Springbokoog. I was accompanied by my wife, Helena Cuesta, herself a story-teller, and photojournalist Neil Rusch, who acted as my interpreter. In Varskans, a farm about 30 km southwest of Brandvlei, we had the privilege of making the acquaintance of Maria and Hans Kaptein and listening to their stories. Maria is a remarkable story-teller and, answering to my questions about her family background, told us about her difficult childhood in the Hantam, the area in which she was born. When asked about the Water Snake, she told with great gusto a number of stories about encounters with this creature. Up to this point, I had limited my questions to the subjects my predecessors had already explored: personal history and belief narratives. Later in the interview Helena asked Maria to tell a folktale like the ones she would have heard as a child. She agreed to this and the story she told was an episode of her childhood. That evening we returned to Brandvlei but the following morning we drove to the township in an attempt to locate Magdalena Beukes, whom we had met two days 386 if•the•man•is•still•lying•there that•he•scratching•[covered•up]•there•[with• sand]. And• then• the• man• knows• that• in• his• thoughts, but•he•is•thinking: ‘The•third•time•the•Wolf•is•coming•to• look, Yes,•because•the•Wolf•will•only•look• three•times.’ Then•he•must•go, otherwise•he•is•wolf•food•tonight. The•Wolf•comes•on•top•of•the•hill. He•looks,•he•sees,•no!, the•man•is•lying•there,• just•as•he•had•covered•him. And•he•runs•down•the•hill•again.• Now•the•Wolf•stays•for•a•long•time•behind• the•hill so•that•the•person•can•move•if•he•is•alive, thinks•the•Wolf. But•the•Wolf•does•not•know that• the• man• is• more• clever• than• him.• [audience laughs] And•the•man•is•lying, and•the•man•is•lying, oh,•it•pains,•it•pains because•it•hurts•so! [The•Wolf]•goes•behind•he•hill. Now•the•Wolf•comes•for•a•second•time,• comes•back•a•little•bit,•looks. ‘There•he’s•lying•still•where•I•left•him.’ The• Wolf• looks• if• the• sand• is• still• on• his• face, where•he•scratched•[sand•over]•him. Oh•the•man•is•bleeding! [His]•nose•[is•bleeding]. The•Wolf•looks•for•a•long•time, but•the•Wolf•is•thirsty; he•really•craves•this•man but•he•is•thirsty,•[he•must•have]•water. He•goes•back•over•the•hill; that’s•for•the•third•time. Now•it’s•the•last•time, now•it’s•taking•longer•before. It•comes•back•to•look•a•third•time. Here•comes•the•Wolf, stands•on•the•hill,•looks. Is•he•still•lying•there? Yes,•he•sees•he•is•lying•there, as•he•scratched•[sand•over]•him. The•Wolf•says: ‘You•can’t•be•dead! You•must•be•still•alive! But•if•I•am•coming•back after•that•I•am•running•further•against• the•wind!’ And•the•Wolf•runs,•there,• [kicking•up]•dust5•as•it•is•running, so•he•can•get•to•the•water. And• the• man• shakes• himself• out• of• the• sand, his•stomach•is•sore, his•nose•is•bleeding, now•his•legs•are•sore. He•must•run; when•the•Wolf•comes•back he’s•got•to•be•very•far•away. And• the• Wolf• is• finished• with• the• water• drinking, and•he•comes, he•comes, 5•Afrikaans:•stof. 387 earlier during a performance of reel dancing in the backyard of our guesthouse, when she had agreed to tell us some stories. After asking around for a while, we found her sister, Katriena Swartz, who had also performed at the reel dance and she took us to the residence of a local doctor for whom Magdalena was house-sitting. There, in the garden, we conducted the recording session, delighted to have two story-tellers instead of one. Again, I began by asking about their personal background, although the sisters were no doubt aware of my interest in stories of a more recreational kind. Magdalena and Katriena told us that they came from the Hantam area, north of Calvinia. Magdalena was born in 1955 on a farm called Verdwaalvlei, where she grew up. Katriena, who was the youngest of the siblings, was born in 1963. Their parents moved about very often in a cart drawn by donkeys, so their children could not go to school. But that does not mean that they didn’t receive an education. Their father had a special style of telling stories, and that was his way of teaching the children. The story-telling usually took place in the evenings, after supper, when the farmworkers would visit one another. It was a tradition for everybody to sit in the skerm (a shelter made of branches) and entertain one another by, for example, telling stories. According to Katrien, this is also where the reel dance developed. In those days, she told us, the parents were like one with their children, and they all liked stories. She went on to say that times have changed, and now parents had to be very protective of their children, as they could be hurt and even murdered. In the old days things were more carefree and open, there was more sharing and people could trust one another. Magdalena began working in the house of a doctor in Brandvlei when she was 11 years old, and has lived in that town for the past 30 years, working for several generations of the same family. The relationship with her employers was close, to the extent, she says, that her experience of the apartheid period was less traumatic than for most ‘non-white’ people. As for Katriena, she married when she was 28 years old and now lives in Touwsrivier in the Western Cape, where she and her husband work on a private game reserve. They have a daughter, Marlene, who is now 20 years old. After telling us these things about themselves, the story-telling began in earnest. One of the genres their father liked most was ghost stories, so Katriena proceeded to tell us one, which, although quite engaging, did not feel especially Khoisan. Then she told a humorous story about a man who was so fond of ostrich eggs that eventually, after eating large quantities, his head began to look like an ostrich egg. He then started to have horrible headaches, until one day his skull cracked like an egg, and from it sprang an ostrich chick! After one or two more stories in this vein, Magdalena announced ‘Now I want to tell a piece about the lion, yes, about the Ouma and the lion.’ This was a story about a family who decides to abandon their old Ouma in the house in which they 388 the Wolf comes, the Wolf is running, the Wolf is running. The man was lying, the man is lying across the sand. ‘Now I must run for my life, because the Wolf is not going to look a second time, is not going to believe I’m dead a second time. The Wolf knows I’m alive. Now, this time, this time he is going to kill me.’ And the man is running, the man is running. And the Wolf comes back, the Wolf comes on the first hill. The Wolf looks up to where the man was lying. ‘But he’s gone! He is gone! Agh! he can’t be far!’ And the Wolf is running, the Wolf is running, and the Wolf is running. The second hill the Wolf is running still, looks, sees his man is not there. He couldn’t have made such a mistake to let such a big piece of food go! [audience• laughs] And the Wolf is running, and the Wolf is running and the Wolf is running! To the third little hill he goes and stands to make completely sure of his case, if he is very sure of his case. He sees this is only the heap of sand that is lying there, there is no person. And he comes there and smells blood, he smells blood, he sees the man is gone. He is looking for his spoor. He [the man] knew, the man looked around once, and then he knew he had to run, he’s got to run so fast, he has to run as far as from her to Touwsrivier now. [audience•laughs] Now he’s got to run for his life. The man is running. The Wolf comes, the Wolf doesn’t see the man. The man doesn’t see the Wolf, but the Wolf is tracking his spoor. The man is in the front, the Wolf is smelling his spoor, And the man runs, and the man runs, the man runs. And the Wolf comes, all quicker, and the man is watching, he decides he can’t just continue running all the time, he will have to do something to get the Wolf off his spoor. So he runs, he runs. But he knows about a pit. 389 4•For•a•complete•transcription•and• translation•of•this•narrative,•see•De• Prada•2012c. were•living•and•move•elsewhere,•because•the•woman•was•so•lazy•that•her•bottom• had•become•stuck•to•the•floor•and•she•could•not•move•at•all.•She•was•left•with•a• lad•(klonkie),•who•eventually,•by•magic•means,•attracts•a•lion•to•the•house.•The•lad• escapes,•but•Ouma,•stuck•to•the•ground•as•she•is,•cannot•get•away.•However,•she• gets•such•a•fright•when•the•lion•enters•the•house•that,•in•her•effort•to•flee,•her•torso• breaks•from•the•rest•of•the•body•and•ends•up•hanging•from•the•rafters•of•the•house.4 Up•to•this•point•I•had•the•impression•that•Magadalena•was•telling•us•a•tall•tale• in•the•‘shaggy•dog’•tradition.•But•she•then•proceeded•to•explain•that•the•lion,•after• eating•the•old•woman,•went•after•the•lad,•who,•to•keep•the•lion•from•getting•him,• opened•a•magic•bottle•(one•of•five•he•had)•and•threw•its•contents•behind•him.•The• bottle•was•full•of•little•thorns•(duwweltjies)•that•kept•the•lion•busy•until•he•managed• to•get•rid•of•them•and•resumed•the•chase.•The•mention•of•the•duwweltjies•(the•thorns• of•a•plant•of•the•genus•Tribulus,•also•called•devil’s•claw)•woke•me•up•to•the•fact•that• Magdalena• was• telling• us• a• story• that,• until• that• moment,• we• knew• only• from• the• four• variants• told• in• the• nineteenth• century• to• Wilhelm• Bleek• and• Lucy• Lloyd• by• ||kabbo,• Dia!kwain,• !kweitNjn• ta• ||kNjn• • HUK “NPYPZZL ;OLYL ILMVYL \Z ^HZ SP]PUN proof•that•Dorothea•Bleek’s•tidings•of•the•demise•of•the•|xam•story-telling•tradition• were• quite• premature.• Although• none• of• the• stories• that• Magdalena• and• Katriena• told•us•in•the•remaining•45•minutes•of•the•recording•session•have•direct•parallels•in• the•|xam•corpus,•several•are•of•undoubted•Khoisan•origin,•and•include•motifs•that• are•present•in•some•of•the•narratives•collected•by•Bleek•and•Lloyd•in•the•nineteenth• century.• The• intangible• heritage• of• the• |xam• descendants• of• the• Northern• Cape,• that•so•unexpectedly•emerged•that•morning•at•Brandvlei,•holds•the•materials•for•an• archive•we•have•barely•began•to•build•but•which,•even•at•this•early•stage,•challenges• our•perception•of•the•stories•and•testimonies•in•the•Bleek•and•Lloyd•Collection•as•the• closed•corpus•of•a•vanished•literature. Dorothea•Bleek•had•been•right•in•stating•that•‘a•life•of•service•among•strangers• and•the•breaking•up•of•families’•had•wreaked•havoc•in•the•cultural•heritage•of•the• immediate•descendants•of•the•people•her•father•and•aunt•had•so•carefully•studied,• but• she• was• completely• mistaken• with• regard• to• the• stories.• Yes,• fractured• by• historical• injustices•and• dispossession,• generations•of• families•may• have• lost• much• of• their• sense• of• belonging• and• identity,• yet• these• preliminary• findings• suggest• that,• despite• the• loss• of• their• language• and• their• land,• their• way• of• life• and• their• freedom,•and•the•ravages•of•foetal•alcohol•syndrome•and•illiteracy,•at•least•in•some• cases• the• urge• to• pass• on• the• stories• that• speak• of• their• identity• has• marked• out• a• sense• of• continuity• between• generations.• The• family• of• Magdalena• Beukes• and• Katriena•Swartz•is•certainly•one•of•those•clusters•of•people•who•held•onto•their•oral• traditions,•knowing•that•it•was•their•only•inheritance.•In•April•2012,•again•with•the• encouragement•and•support•of•the•Centre•for•Curating•the•Archive,•I•returned•to•the• 390 and he goes and he jumps into the pit, and he hangs, there is something to hang from. The Wolf comes, he runs past the pit. And the Wolf asks: ‘Where is this man?’ because he does not believe he can be inside that pit. And the Wolf is all around the pit. The man is hanging on something, like a branch, in the pit; he can’t get out, because the Wolf doesn’t want to run away. And what must he do? Now he is in a conflict: if he comes out the Wolf will eat him, and he can’t allow that, because his house is bitterly far. he would walk as fast as his feet would carry him to where he wanted to be, because that day he was almost wolf food. Comments•by•the•story-teller During the recording session on 21 August, during which Andrew and Anja Bank assisted as interpreters, I asked Katriena if she knew stories associated with specific places such as rivers, hills and similar landscape features. She said that she didn’t know stories that referred to specific places, but that she set the stories in places that were familiar to her, and when telling a story she saw it unfolding in that landscape. This is an extract of her comments about this, some of which refer to the story of the man and the Wolf: And so later, the Wolf laid down to sleep there; he had finished drinking water, he is very tired, and he is so hungry, and he craves for that man. And so he fell fast asleep later on. When they [my elders] told the stories, it was to us as if they were explaining specifically in a [spatial] direction. Especially the story I told last night [about the man and the Wolf,] it appeared to us as if it was [set] in a specific area, for example by that hill, by the Bushman art [rock engravings] where there are little hills and little pathways. And the man thinks: ‘Now is my chance!’ And he climbs out, and there he ran! And never again did he on the road mess around with time. If he wanted to be somewhere I see that in my head when I tell the story. When they told about the lion and the little boy,6 that again I saw in an open flat, [a] shallow area where there is a koppie. This is on the other side of the town of Brandvlei, in the Williston direction. 391 6 Told by Katriena at the Anatomy Lecture Theatre, University of Cape Town, Hiddingh Campus, on 18 August. area•for•another•two•weeks,•although•this•time•with•the•sole•purpose•of•recording• oral• narratives.• Besides• Brandvlei• and• Varksans,• I• also• visited• Swartkop• (a• small• settlement•south•of•Verneukpan)•and•Vanwyksvlei•and•interviewed•about•30•people.• The•information•gathered•from•this•new•field•trip•confirms•that•stories•(some•of•them• clearly•connected•with•those•collected•in•the•nineteenth•century)•and•other•forms• of•traditional•knowledge•are•still•very•much•alive•in•what•was•the•home•territory•of• the•informants•of•Wilhelm•Bleek•and•Lucy•Lloyd.•What•I•have•been•able•to•collect• so•far•of•the•genealogy•and•generational•memory•of•the•people•living•there•today• also•confirms•that•they•are,•to•a•large•extent,•direct•descendants•of•the•|xam•bands• that•were•decimated•and•dispossessed•in•the•second•half•of•the•nineteenth•century.• Although•both•the•modern•inhabitants•of•the•area•and•the•traditional•knowledge•of• which•they•are•bearers•reflect•the•complex•and•troubled•history•that•reduced•them• to•their•present•condition,•the•fact•that•they•are•there•makes•the•notion•that•the•|xam• are•an•extinct•people,•highly•inaccurate.•It•is•true•that•their•language•is•dead,•but•the• demise•of•their•language•has•not•meant•the•obliteration•of•their•culture•and•identity.• As•Ouma•Sophia•Januarie•(about•70•years•old),•told•me•regarding•the•presence•of•her• people•in•the•area•in•spite•of•the•hardships•undergone•by•her•elders: It's•like•I•say, a•person•should•be•thankful•for•those•in•this•time, that•[those•in•the•past]•didn’t•get•stuck. Then•[if•that•had•happened,] there•almost•wouldn’t•be•any•people•here•any•more. If•you•think•of•those•things, then•you•only•can•say•‘thank•you’•to•the•Lord, that•there•is•still•life•and•breath•in•you.5 5•Conversation•with•Ouma•Sophia• Januarie,•recorded•in•video•at•her• home•in•Brandvlei,•24•April•2012.• This•excerpt•was•translated•for•me• by•Linka•Maritz.•Ouma•Sophia,• who•is•also•an•accomplished•singer• and•herbalist,•grew•up•on•the•farm• Katkop,•in•the•heart•of•Dia!kwain’s• home•territory. Before• the• ‘Courage• of• ||kabbo’• conference,• the• Centre• for• Curating• the• Archive• decided•to•invite•Katriena•and•Magdalena•to•participate•in•the•story-telling•events•that• had•been•planned•as•part•of•the•conference.•Although•eventually•only•Katriena•and• her•daughter•Marlene•could•come•to•the•conference,•their•presence•was•a•symbolic• act•in•itself.•It•made•it•possible•to•continue•the•conversations•started•in•Brandvlei•five• months•earlier,•and•to•record•additional•narratives,•both•during•the•conference•and• at•the•home•of•Tanya•Barben•on•the•evening•of•21•August. What• follows• is• the• translation• from• Afrikaans,• made• by• Marlene• Winberg,• of• the•story•Katriena•told•at•the•last•story-telling•session.•At•the•end•of•the•tale•I•have• added•some•remarks•about•the•tale•that•Katriena•made•during•our•recording•session• after• the• conference.• These• comments• are• of• special• interest,• as• they• establish• a• connection•between•story-telling•and•landscape•that•appears•to•have•also•existed•for• ||kabbo•and•other•informants•of•Bleek•and•Lloyd•(see•De•Prada•2009:•56). 392 My father didn’t say specifically where the story [of the man and the Wolf] is [set], and this is my sense, but he mentioned koppies and mountains. But that is how I put it in my head because that is how I know this area. We tell the stories a lot to each other [my sister and I], but we never asked where the story was [located]. Just accepted it was at a place. 393 The story is arranged in short-lines, following the principles for such arrangement proposed by Dell Hymes in connection with Chinookan narratives (Hymes 1981), but which, to a large extent, can be applied to other oral traditions. The idea is not to present the stories as poems, which I think, correctly speaking, they are not, but to make visible some formal traits of oral narratives (like parallelism and repetition) which are indeed more akin to poetry than to what we understand as ‘prose’. For reasons of space annotation has been kept to a minimum and the transcription of the original Afrikaans has been omitted. I hope to publish soon a wider selection of the stories so far recorded, with full scholarly annotation. As was the case of ‘The Ouma and Lion’ told by Magdalena Beukes, this narrative is a variant of a tale that was also known to the |xam teachers of Bleek and Lloyd, actually one of the most emblematic tales in the whole corpus. Although there are three variants of it in the Collection (see De Prada 2010: 356–60), the best known version is that told by Dia!kwain, which, in the original manuscript, bears the title ‘The Lion and the Man’s story; what the lion did formerly to the man’ (L.V.7: 4457), a direct translation of the title given to it by the story-teller, although when published in Specimens (Bleek & Lloyd 1911: 175–91) Lloyd called it ‘The young man of the ancient race, who was carried off by a lion, when asleep in the field’. The German folklorist Sigrid Schmidt, the greatest living authority on the oral narratives of the Khoisan peoples, assigned to Dia!kwain’s tale number KH 888A.1 in her Catalogue of the Khoisan Folktales of Southern Africa (1989). In a recent personal communication, Dr Schmidt, who is currently revising and updating her type catalogue, told me that Katriena’s tale, to which she has assigned number KH 888A.4, is closer to the version of the story published in the early 20th twentieth century by G.R. von Wielligh’s (1919: 38–9)—which also lacks the second part, in which the beast of prey demands of the community the man that he could not eat and whom they are hiding—than to Dia!kwain’s rendering. 394