In the heart of the African savanna, where the great river wound its way through golden grasslands like a silver serpent, there lived a hyena whose reputation for ingenuity was matched only by his love of fresh fish. This was no ordinary scavenger who waited for carrion on the plains, this hyena had discovered the ancient art of trapping, and his method was so effective that every sunrise brought him a feast from the flowing waters.
Down by the river’s edge, where the reeds whispered secrets to the wind and the muddy banks showed the footprints of countless creatures who came to drink, Hyena had constructed his masterpiece of cunning. His fish trap was a marvel of natural engineering, woven from supple branches and positioned with such precision that the current guided unsuspecting fish directly into its woven embrace. Each morning, as the first light of dawn painted the sky in shades of amber and rose, Hyena would lumber down to the water’s edge with anticipation dancing in his yellow eyes.
And each morning, his cleverness was rewarded. The trap would be heavy with the night’s catch silver-scaled fish that flashed like liquid mercury in the early sunlight, their bodies plump and promising. Hyena’s belly was never empty, his strength never wanting, all thanks to his remarkable invention and the river’s generous bounty.
But success, as the wise ones say, often attracts the attention of those who prefer to take rather than toil. In this case, that attention came from Hare the notorious trickster whose reputation for mischief stretched across the savanna like morning shadows. Hare’s large ears were always tuned to opportunity, his bright eyes constantly searching for ways to profit from others’ labor, and his nimble paws ready to seize whatever advantage presented itself.
One morning, as Hare hopped along the riverbank on some forgotten errand, his keen nose caught the enticing aroma of fresh fish. Following the scent with the determination of a hunter tracking prey, he soon discovered Hyena’s secret fishing spot. His whiskers twitched with delight as he observed the ingenious trap, and his mind immediately began calculating the possibilities.
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“What magnificent fish!” Hare whispered to himself, his voice barely audible above the gentle lapping of water against the shore. “Fat and gleaming, enough to feed a family for days. Why should Hyena, that clumsy scavenger, enjoy such luxury when I, clever Hare, could put these treasures to much better use?”
The temptation proved too strong for Hare’s mischievous nature to resist. When he was certain that Hyena had returned to his den for the day, Hare crept through the tall grass with the stealth of a shadow. His heart raced with the thrill of his planned deception as he approached the trap, which was indeed filled with the most beautiful fish he had ever seen.
With practiced efficiency, Hare emptied the trap of its precious contents, slinging the silvery catch over his shoulder like a triumphant warrior returning from battle. But Hare’s wickedness didn’t stop at mere theft his trickster’s mind demanded an extra flourish of deception. Searching along the muddy riverbank, he gathered a collection of the fattest, ugliest toads he could find, their warty skin glistening in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the overhanging branches.
One by one, Hare stuffed these croaking creatures into Hyena’s trap, replacing fish with toads in a substitution that made him chuckle with wicked delight. Then, humming a jaunty tune and practically dancing with glee at his own cleverness, he bounded away through the grassland, leaving no trace of his visit except for the sound of his laughter echoing across the water.
The next morning brought Hyena lumbering down to his trap with his usual expectations of a fine breakfast. But when he lifted his woven masterpiece from the water, instead of the familiar weight of plump fish, out tumbled a collection of indignant toads, their croaking protests filling the morning air like a chorus of complaint.
Hyena’s yellow eyes widened in bewilderment as the toads hopped away toward the water, their movements awkward and ungainly on the riverbank. He scratched his spotted head with one massive paw, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Most peculiar,” he muttered, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. “Perhaps the river spirits are playing tricks today, or maybe the fish have been bewitched by some strange magic. Surely tomorrow will bring better fortune.”
But tomorrow brought only more toads, and the day after that, and the day after that. Each morning, Hyena would approach his trap with diminishing hope, only to find the same disappointing collection of warty amphibians where his fish should have been. What had begun as puzzlement gradually transformed into suspicion, and suspicion slowly kindled into the burning flame of indignation.
On the seventh morning, as Hyena stood staring at yet another trap full of croaking toads, his keen predator’s instincts finally pierced through the veil of his confusion. He lifted his great muzzle to the morning breeze and sniffed deeply, his nostrils flaring as they detected traces of a scent that didn’t belong near his fishing spot. His lips pulled back in a snarl as recognition dawned.
“This is no river magic, no coincidence of nature,” he growled, his voice carrying the dangerous edge of a predator who has identified his prey. “Someone, some clever, sneaking thief has been robbing me! But who would dare steal from a hyena’s trap?”
His answer came in the form of a plan so cunning that it would have made his ancestors proud. Hyena spent the entire day gathering materials from the riverbank and surrounding grassland: strong reeds that bent without breaking, supple branches that could be woven and shaped, and most importantly, the sticky, amber-colored sap that oozed from the holly trees that grew in thick groves along the water’s edge.
Working with the focused intensity of a craftsman creating his masterpiece, Hyena carved and bound and shaped until he had created a figure that resembled a man standing upright. The proportions were roughly human two arms, two legs, a torso, and something that might pass for a head in the dim light of dawn or dusk. But this was no ordinary scarecrow or guardian figure.
Every inch of Hyena’s creation was coated with holly sap so thick and gummy that it gleamed like honey in the afternoon sunlight. The sticky substance clung to the figure’s surface with the tenacity of tree roots in rich soil, creating a trap within a trap a guardian that would hold fast to whatever dared touch it. Even the smallest feather would become permanently attached to this marvelous snare, and Hyena chuckled with satisfaction as he imagined his thief’s surprise upon encountering this ingenious deterrent.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and crimson, Hyena positioned his sap-covered sentinel beside the fish trap like a silent guard standing watch over precious treasure. Then, with the patience of a hunter who knows his quarry will inevitably come, he concealed himself among the tall grasses that grew in thick clusters along the riverbank, settling down to wait for dawn and the arrival of his mysterious tormentor.
The night passed slowly, filled with the gentle sounds of the river and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures going about their business under the stars. As the first pale light of morning began to chase away the darkness, Hyena’s keen ears detected the sound he had been waiting for the soft patter of approaching footsteps on the muddy riverbank.
Sure enough, along came Hare, practically bouncing with anticipation and whistling a cheerful tune that spoke of his confidence in his own cunning. His bright eyes sparkled with mischief, and he rubbed his paws together in gleeful anticipation of another successful raid on Hyena’s trap. But as he drew closer to his usual prize, his bouncing gait slowed, then stopped entirely.
There, standing motionless beside the fish trap like a statue carved from wood and shadow, was the figure Hyena had created. In the uncertain light of early dawn, it looked almost human certainly human enough to give a mischievous hare pause for thought.
“Good morning to you, friend,” Hare said politely, his voice carrying the false cheer of one who hopes to charm his way past an obstacle. His large ears swiveled forward attentively, waiting for some response that would tell him whether this newcomer was friend or foe.
The figure stood silent as stone, offering no greeting, no acknowledgment, no sign that it had even heard Hare’s courteous words. Only the gentle morning breeze stirred its surface, causing tiny ripples in the thick coating of holly sap.
Hare’s politeness began to give way to irritation, and his tone sharpened with the edge of wounded pride. “I said good morning! Surely even a stranger by the river should have the courtesy to return a civil greeting. Now step aside like a proper fellow and let me pass about my business.”
Still no response came from the sticky sentinel, and Hare’s famous temper began to kindle like dry grass touched by lightning. His nose twitched with indignation, his whiskers bristled with offense, and his bright eyes narrowed to angry slits.
“So!” he declared, his voice rising with each word, “you think yourself too important to speak with a clever hare, do you? You stand there like some great lord, too proud and grand to acknowledge your betters! Well, I’ll show you what happens to those who ignore Hare the Trickster!”
Without another moment’s hesitation, Hare drew back his right paw and delivered what he intended to be a stinging slap across the figure’s face. But instead of the satisfying smack of paw meeting cheek, there came only the soft, sucking sound of sticky sap claiming its victim.
Hare’s paw was stuck fast, held as firmly as if it had been nailed to the figure’s surface. He pulled and twisted, his eyes widening with the first stirrings of panic, but his paw remained trapped in the golden prison of holly sap.
“Release me this instant!” Hare demanded, his voice cracking with fear and fury. “How dare you grab hold of me like some common thief! Let go, I say!”
In his desperation, Hare struck out with his left paw, hoping to force his opponent to release its grip on his right. But this second blow only resulted in a second capture, leaving both of Hare’s front paws hopelessly mired in the sticky trap.
Now truly panicked, Hare began kicking with his powerful hind legs, driving his feet against the figure with all the force he could muster. But each kick only added to his predicament, until both hind paws joined his front paws in their gummy captivity.
As a final act of desperation, Hare butted the silent figure with his head, hoping that brute force might succeed where cunning had failed. But this last effort only completed his capture, leaving him stuck fast from ears to tail, held as securely as a fly trapped in amber.
It was at this moment of complete helplessness that Hyena emerged from his hiding place among the reeds, his massive form seeming to materialize from the morning mist like a spirit of vengeance. His yellow eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and his lips pulled back to reveal teeth that gleamed like ivory daggers in the growing daylight.
“Aha!” Hyena’s deep voice boomed across the riverbank like thunder rolling across the plains. “So you’re the sneaking thief who has been stealing my fish and mocking my honest labor! I should have known it would be Hare the Trickster, always ready to profit from others’ work while contributing nothing himself!”
Hare wriggled and squirmed against his sticky prison, his usual eloquence reduced to desperate whimpers and pleas. The holly sap held him as firmly as chains forged from the strongest iron, and all his celebrated cleverness could not free him from the consequences of his own greed and arrogance.
Hyena approached his captive with the slow, deliberate stride of a victor savoring his triumph. He reached out with one massive paw and lifted Hare by his long ears, holding him up like a trophy for all the world to see.
“Now, trickster,” Hyena said, his voice carrying the satisfaction of justice finally served, “you will learn what happens when cleverness is turned to theft, when wit is used for wickedness. Let us see if all your famous cunning can save you from the consequences of your own greed!”
And from that day forward, the animals of the savanna say, Hare never again dared to steal fish from Hyena’s trap. The lesson of the holly sap had taught him that even the cleverest trickster can be caught by his own overconfidence, and that honest work will always triumph over dishonest schemes in the end.
The Moral Lesson
This classic African trickster tale teaches us that cleverness without honesty ultimately leads to downfall, and that those who profit through deception will eventually face the consequences of their actions. Hare’s intelligence and wit, when used for selfish theft rather than honest work, become the very tools of his capture. The story reminds us that true wisdom lies not in outsmarting others for personal gain, but in using our abilities constructively and respecting others’ labor. It also shows that persistence and honest work, like Hyena’s patient planning, will ultimately prevail over quick schemes and dishonest shortcuts.
Knowledge Check
Q1: What kind of trap did Hyena create to catch the fish thief in this African folktale? A: Hyena created a sticky figure made from sticks and reeds, covered entirely with gummy holly sap. He positioned this sap covered sentinel beside his fish trap to catch whoever was stealing his fish, knowing that anything touching the sticky surface would become permanently trapped.
Q2: How did Hare steal from Hyena’s fish trap in this trickster story? A: Hare would sneak to Hyena’s fish trap when the hyena wasn’t around, steal all the fish, and then replace them with croaking toads from the riverbank. This deception continued for many days before Hyena became suspicious of finding toads instead of fish.
Q3: What led to Hare’s capture by the holly sap figure in this African tale? A: Hare’s own anger and pride led to his capture. When the sticky figure didn’t respond to his polite greetings, Hare became offended and started attacking it first slapping with one paw, then the other, then kicking with both feet, and finally butting with his head, becoming completely stuck.
Q4: What does the character of Hare represent in this African trickster folktale? A: Hare represents the classic trickster archetype clever and cunning but also greedy, arrogant, and prone to using his intelligence for selfish gain rather than honest work. His character shows how cleverness without moral grounding can lead to one’s own downfall.
Q5: How does Hyena’s patience and planning triumph over Hare’s trickery in this story? A: Hyena’s methodical approach observing the pattern, identifying the thief through careful investigation, and creating an ingenious trap demonstrates how honest work and patient planning ultimately prevail over quick schemes and dishonest shortcuts.
Q6: What African cultural values does this Hare and Hyena folktale represent? A: This folktale represents African values of honest work over theft, patience over impulsiveness, justice over deception, and the belief that moral behavior will ultimately be rewarded while dishonesty will be punished. It teaches respect for others’ labor and the consequences of greed.
Source: retold from The Multicoloured Dairy
