He saw this species before him
Ruling the world supreme,
Exterminating all animal life
From the jungles and seas—
He saw this species contaminate the very stars . . .
And turn upon each other,
Killing their own kind like ravaging beasts
Across the astonished face of the earth.
With a hoarse croak the Chief quickly summoned his Elders
And they went into council till deep in the night,
Discussing what exactly they should do
With the female of this queer species.
Many suggestions were made,
All aiming at her outright destruction,
But in the end it dawned on them
That through her they might save their own race!
Their own females had recently gone sterile
And their Chief should have the honour . . .
The vote in favour was unanimous
With Gorogo’s vote in the lead!
But under the earnest discussion,
Amarava made good her escape
And by the time they took their decision
She had put a great distance between them and herself.
But her freedom was actually of short duration;
Towards sunset they recaptured her
And frogmarched her back to Gorogo’s cave
Where a rather forcible marriage took place.
Indaba, my children, now you know
What we mean by ‘a Frog’s Bride’—
Throughout this Dark Land
From the Xhoza to the land of the Baganda
‘A Frog’s Bride’ means a forced marriage—
A girl thrashed into marrying
A man she does not love.
The Holy Legends tell us that Amarava
Became the Queen of the Frogmen
And in due course fulfilled her purpose
By laying numerous eggs.
From these eggs there soon hatched
A yellow frog-like people
Cunning little rascals these—
The Bushmen and the Pygmies.
In the third year the Frogmen were struck by disaster;
In those days all men reached maturity
In only a year or three,
And Amarava’s offspring was adult and fighting fit.
As usual she could not sleep
As a result of the pain she suffered;
The Frogmen had prescribed a special root powder,
But this was not fully effective.
She was lying in her cave overlooking the lake
And the half-submerged village of these queer people,
When loud yells, mingled with dying croaks, reached her ears
And she realised a battle was in progress.
Her offspring were now armed with bows and arrows,
Tipped with a deadly paralysing poison;
And in no time the Frogmen ceased to exist—
The last to fall was Gorogo, their Chief.
Thus died a near perfect race,
Nearly as perfect as the Kaa-U-La birds;
Imperfect man had made his return—
Foul, destructive, homicidal man.
My children, our tribal Wise Men solemnly curse
The day that Man set his foot upon this earth,
And they insist most seriously that the Universe
Shall never know peace as long as Man
Infests the earth like a vile leprosy.
Amarava had grown to like the intelligent non-human Frogmen
And her grief knew no bounds as she saw them wantonly murdered;
She raised her voice and called on the murderous bands,
Now skulking amongst the mud huts of their victims.
‘Come out of there, you creatures most foul!
Come and hear what I have to say.’
They came out and stood some distance away—
A wild and brazen-eyed naked rabble—
Far worse in appearance and general behaviour
Than a hunger-ravaged troop of thieving baboons.
Amarava felt hatred boiling within her—
Anger and grief deprived her of speech;
When she found her voice she harshly shouted
A blistering curse on her sons and daughters.
‘Be gone – hence you vile little bastards . . .
Henceforth you and your miserable descendants
Shall be nothing but vagabonds and thieves!
By thieving and cunning you shall live to the end of time,
And never progress or rise above
What you are today.’
They
