The King and Kíní-kíní

Ellis's teller opens: "My alo is something about a certain king". One day the king called all the birds to come and clear a piece of ground. But he forgot to call kíní-kíní. All the birds came. They set to work and cleared a large piece of ground. In the middle of it was an odan tree. At midday, when the sun was hot and all the birds had left their work for the day, kíní-kíní came and perched on the odan tree, and began to sing. Original (Yorùbá refrain as retained by Ellis, in 1894 orthography, no tone marks or subdots; the drum names are Yorùbá) > The king sent to invite my companions, > Kini-kini. > He assembled all the children of the folk with wings, > Kini-kini. > Grow grass, sprout bush, > Kini-kini. > Come, let us go to the house, > Kini-kini. > And there we can dance the bata, > Kini-kini. > If the bata will not sound we will dance the dundun, > Kini-kini. > If the dundun will not sound we will dance the gangan, > Kini-kini. Literal gloss - kini-kini the bird's name, which is also its cry - bàtá, dùndún, gángan three named drums, glossed below Idiomatic English as printed above; Ellis renders the sense-lines into English and keeps the refrain and the drum names in Yorùbá. Translator: A. B. Ellis Notes on the translation. As in `alo-the-poor-woman-and-the-aranran-bird`, what survives is a partial song: a Yorùbá refrain carrying the rhythm with English sense-lines between. The refrain is the bird's own name, so the song is self-naming in the manner of oríkì, and every second line the singer announces who is doing this. `yoruba-oriki` treats the form. The song's structure is worth setting out because the translation flattens it. Two lines of grievance, "the king sent to invite my companions / he assembled all the children of the folk with wings," then the working line, "grow grass, sprout bush," then four lines that are pure celebration, a party the bird proposes to go to. The curse sits in the middle and is one line long. The bulk of the song is the excluded bird describing the dance he was not invited to, and then inviting himself: "come, let us go to the house, and there we can dance the bata." Next morning, when the birds came to work, they found the ground they had cleared all grown over with grass and bush. They told the king, and the king said: that is nothing; clear it again. They cleared it again and at midday went away. Kíní-kíní came back and sang his song again, and again the grass and bush sprang up. The next day the birds informed the king. No matter, said the king, clear the ground again. A third time they cleared it and went away, and a third time kíní-kíní came and sang so that the grass and bush sprang up. The next day the birds asked the king for authority to seize the person who had played this trick. The king said: very well. Then all the birds went back, put a great quantity of birdlime on the odan tree, and went home. Next morning they cleared the ground again, and at midday went and hid in the bush close by. Kíní-kíní came and perched on the odan. He sang his song, and the grass and bush grew up. Then he wanted to fly away, and found himself held by the birdlime. All the birds flocked to the tree and seized him and brought him to the king, saying: behold the one who has caused us so much trouble. The king made him come near and asked: what have I done to you, that you should act thus? And kíní-kíní said: > When you called all my companions to clear the ground you left me out, therefore I have revenged myself. When the king heard this, he raised his hand to give the bird a slap. Pardon, pardon, said kíní-kíní. If I find any cowries I will give them to you. When I get any kola-nuts I will bring them to you. The king gave him a slap, and kíní-kíní voided cowries till the room was filled. What is this, said the king, much astonished, and raised his hand again. I beg pardon, said the bird, repeating the same promise. The king slapped him again, and the bird voided still more cowries than the first time. The king sent messengers through all the country and summoned all his people to assemble on the fifth day to see a marvel. All the people promised to come. Then the king put kíní-kíní in a basket, covered the top, and went out. His little son, who wanted to give the bird a slap himself, uncovered the basket, and the bird flew away. When the king came home he went to the basket, found no bird in it, and called his son. Where is the kíní-kíní, he asked. The boy answered that he had gone to play with it and the bird had flown away. The king took the little boy and beat him. He beat him, he beat him, and in his anger he cut off one of his ears. Go quick, he said. Go quick, and find the bird. And he pushed him out of the house. The boy made a little drum and went out on the road to the bush. He sat down in a place where the birds were accustomed to come, and began to beat on his drum, and the drum said: Original (drum text as printed by Ellis) > Tinliki, tinliki, tinli-puru. > Tinli-puru. Literal gloss: Tinliki, tinliki, tinli-puru (onomatopoeic drum rhythm syllables; untranslated vocables) Idiomatic English: Tinliki, tinliki, tinli-puru. Tinli-puru. (drum sound pattern) Translator: A. B. Ellis Notes. This is drummed sound rather than words, printed as syllables. The corpus treats the Yorùbá talking drum and its rendering of speech in `yoruba-drum-poetry`; what is preserved here is a rhythm pattern, not a sentence, and no meaning is supplied for it. Ellis offers none. All the birds flocked round, and each danced in turn. When it came to kíní-kíní's turn, he did not want to dance. All the birds begged him, but he refused. Then the boy played quicker. He beat, and beat, and beat, while all the birds begged kíní-kíní. At last the bird began to yield. He twisted here and he twisted there. He flew three times round the head of the little boy. The boy continued beating as if he had not noticed anything, and kíní-kíní began to dance. He turned here and twisted there. He turned, and twisted, and turned, till he came quite close up to the drum. Then the little boy thrust out his hand and seized him by the leg. All the other birds flew away. The boy brought kíní-kíní to his father. I have caught him, he said. Here he is. And then the line the tale is built to arrive at: > Won't you do something now to restore my ear? Then the king got up. He took a dead leaf and put it in the place of the ear. And the dead leaf softened and changed into an ear.