~~~ Two African Tales of Fire and Wrath ~~~

Long, long ago when the San people first came to Africa's wild open spaces, they didn't know how to live on the land. They asked the beasts for help. Back then, animals and people could understand each other's speech.

Otter, clever creature of the river, taught the San people how to swim and catch fish.

Baboon, clever creature of the savanna, taught them which wild fruits and plants to eat.

Rhino knew how to make fire -- but he was a grumpy old fellow, always in a bad mood. He refused to help the San.

Often the humans told Rhino, "We are so cold at night, and so fretful and fearful in the dark. Please, won't you teach us to make fire?"

Each time, Rhino snorted through his heavy nostrils and stormed away, shouting, "I do not know how. Go away!"

It was a lie. He knew the secret, all right. He simply refused to share.

Each time Rhino lied, the horn on his nose set to itching. Itching like mad. Itching so badly he must hunt out a tree and rub his horn on the rough bark. He would rub so hard he set the tree on fire.

Again and again, whenever he refused to help, his lies triggered another bout of terrible itching, more scratching -- and another trunk burst into flame.

He never did have a change of heart. The smoke of countless fires made his eyesight weak. All those trees he set ablaze stained Rhino's hide forever grey with ash.

~~~

Long, long ago when the animals lived together in a village, there was a young ram by the name of Lightning. He had a temper so short that any little thing would set him in a rage, and when he raged, his temper blazed so hot he lit fires wherever his hooves trod.

After every flare of temper, Lightning's mother nagged him something awful. She scolded in such a loud booming voice, it made the other animals cringe. Her name was Thunder.

The animals gathered and debated what to do about the anger and the fires and the nagging and the noise. They ordered mother and son to move to the outskirts of the village to cut down on the all the disturbance and stress.

Even on the outskirts, Lightning found reason to rage. Thunder's scolding still boomed in everyone's ears.

The animals made Thunder and Lightning move into the hills.

Even there, Lightning fumed at every little thing. Wildfires flared in the hills, and smoke and cinders drifted over the village. Thunder's angry clamor still rolled through the fields and the marketplace.

At last the animals decreed that the two bothersome sheep must move further away, clear up into the sky. Surely that would end the troubles.

But even in the sky, Lightning found reason to flare in anger, an anger so fierce it stabbed to the ground. Thunder still boomed a scolding voice from the heavens. And so it goes to this very day.