Ìjàpá Rides the Elephant

Ellis's teller opens: "My alo is about Tortoise and the elephant". Ìjàpá told the other animals one day that he would ride the elephant. All the animals said no, you cannot ride the elephant. Well, said Ìjàpá, I will make a wager that I will ride the elephant into town. And the other animals agreed to the wager. Ìjàpá went into the forest and found Erin. He said to him: my father, all the animals say you are too stout and big to come to town. Erin was vexed. The animals are fools, he said. If I do not come to town it is because I prefer the forest. Besides, I do not know the way to town. Oh, said Ìjàpá, then come with me. I will show you the way to the town, and you can put all the animals to shame. So Erin followed him. When they were near the town Ìjàpá said: my father, I am tired. Will you kindly allow me to get on your back. All right, said Erin, and knelt down, and Ìjàpá climbed up. Then Ìjàpá arranged the signals. My father, when I scratch your back you must run, and when I knock my head against your back you must run faster; then you will make a fine display in the town. Erin said very well. When they came near the town Ìjàpá scratched, and Erin began to run. He knocked with his head, and Erin ran faster. The animals, seeing this, were frightened. They went into their houses, but they looked out of their windows. And Ìjàpá called out to them: > Did I not say I would ride my father's slave to town? What do you mean by "your father's slave," said Erin, growing angry. I am only praising you, said Ìjàpá. But Erin saw the other animals laughing, and grew angrier. I will throw you down on the hard stones here, he cried, and break you to pieces. And here the tale turns on a single speech: > Yes, yes, that is right. Throw me down here. That will be all right. Then I shall not die; then I shall not be hurt. If you really want to kill me, you ought to carry me to a swamp. There I shall die at once, for the mud and water will drown me. Erin believed him. He ran to the swamp and threw Ìjàpá into the mud, then stretched out his foot to kick him, but Ìjàpá dived into the mire and came up somewhere else. The other animals were watching, and Ìjàpá called out to them again: did I not say I would ride my father's slave to town? When Erin found he could not catch him, he ran back to the forest at full speed. There he told the other elephants what "that broken-back" had done to him, and they said: you were a fool to carry that broken-back to town. Since then the elephant has not come to town any more.