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WIP5006 • SOLUTIONS FOR ALL • ENGLISH HL GRADE EIGHT READER • SIXTEENTH POSITIVE PROOF • 17 MAY 2013

Solutions for allEnglish

Home LanguageGrade 8

Core Reader

Compilers: S CheketriH Nahman

WIP5006 • SOLUTIONS FOR ALL • ENGLISH HL GRADE EIGHT READER • SIXTEENTH POSITIVE PROOF • 17 MAY 2013 WIP5006 • SOLUTIONS FOR ALL • ENGLISH HL GRADE EIGHT READER • SIXTEENTH POSITIVE PROOF • 17 MAY 2013

Solutions for all English Home Language Grade 8 Core Reader

© Compiled and adapted by S Cheketri and H Nahman, 2013

© Illustrations and design Macmillan South Africa (Pty) Ltd, 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, photocopying, recording,

or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder or in accordance with the provisions

of the Copyright Act, 1978 (as amended).Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this

publication may be liable for criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

First published 2013

13 15 17 16 142 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

Published by Macmillan South Africa (Pty) Ltd

Private Bag X19 Northlands

2116Gauteng

South Africa

Typeset in Stone Serif 12/14pt by Positive Proof ccCover design by Deevine DesignCover image from VMS Images

Illustrations by USDI, Robin Mcbride and Sean Verster

Photographic acknowledgementsRuphin Coudyzer: pp. 106, 110, 116, 118, 124, 126, 129, 132, 137

The publishers have made every effort to trace the copyright holders.If they have inadvertently overlooked any, they will be pleased to make the necessary

arrangements at the first opportunity. The publishers would also like to thankthose organisations and individuals we have already approached and from whom

we are anticipating permission.

ISBN PDF: 978-1-4310-2553-4WIP PDF: 5006M000

It is illegal to photocopy any page of this book without written permission from the publishers.


Contents

FOLKLORE 1What is folklore? 2Why Monkey Fears Leopard – An Ndebele folktale, retold by Nick Greaves 3The Bride of the Rainbow – A Shona folktale, retold by Nick Greaves 9The Unicorn – An English legend, retold by Ann Pilling 14The Horned Animals and the Hyena – A Swahili folktale, retold by Sylvanna Cheketri and Hayleen Nahman 20The Magic Verandah Pole – A Venda folktale, retold by Nick Greaves 25The Origin of Day and Night – An Australian Aboriginal myth, retold by Charles P Mountford, Sylvanna Cheketri and Hayleen Nahman 30The Motherly Baboon – A Zulu folktale, retold by Nick Greaves 35

SHORT STORIES 40What is a short story? 41The Road to Mara by Tom Chacha 42The Toilet by Gcina Mhlophe 48Enemy by Lionel Abrahams 54The Setting Sun and the Rolling World by Charles Mungoshi 59The Sound Machine by Roald Dahl 64Dad, Can I Come Home? by Malorie Blackman 70Roppie by Jack Cope 76

POETRY 82What is a poem? 83Ordinance on Arrival by Naomi Lazard 84After Sports Day by John Foster 85Telephone Conversation by Wole Soyinka 86the african pot by Fhazel Johennesse 88Career Woman by Charles Mungoshi 89Our Points of View by Jaki Wa Seroke 90New Boy by Gareth Owen 91Poem for a kitchen by Arthur Nortje 93I sing of Change by Niyi Osundare 95One Small Boy Longs for Summer by Mafika Gwala 96


Aladdin throws away his lamp by Elias Lieberman 98The Sad Story of Percy, the TV Addict by J G Goodacre 99Beerhall queen by Mongane Wally Serote 100To see the rabbit by Alan Brownjohn 102The Hermit by Alan Paton 104

DRAMA 106What is drama? 107Maru by Bessie Head, adapted by Phyllis Klotz 109

GLOSSARY 142

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 146

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Folklore

FOLKLORE

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Folklore

What is folklore?

Folklore refers to the traditional beliefs, myths, art and customs of a specific community, which are passed on from generation to generation in the form of stories. These stories are called folktales. Folktales often explain things that happen in nature or pass on some truth about life and human nature.

PlotPlot refers to the events in a story and the structure of these events. The plot of a folktale usually concerns the explanation of a tradition or belief. Folktales attempt to explain why things are the way they are or why certain people or animals behave in the way they do. In the past, people did not have access to the scientific knowledge that we have today, so they used storytelling to try to explain the world around them.

CharacterisationThe characters in a folktale, even when they are animals, often represent specific character traits in people, such as cheerfulness, determination, vanity or selfishness. These features are often exaggerated in order to teach the listener or reader a particular lesson.

Role of the narratorFolklore is part of an oral tradition, which means that folktales were originally passed along by word of mouth. The narrator is often an elder or ancestor who wants to teach the community about their past.

Messages and themesMany folktales have a moral lesson for their listeners. These moral lessons are passed down from generation to generation, in order to equip the next generation with the wisdom that their ancestors have acquired.

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Folklore

Why Monkey Fears Leopard – An Ndebele folktale, retold by Nick Greaves

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Brand me’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. a) Discuss what you know about folktales. b) Can you name any folktales that you have heard? c) Can you tell any of those stories? 2. What are the Ndebele people best known for?3. What is the relationship between monkeys and leopards in

the wild?

One day, long ago, Ingwe the leopard was sprawled out along the spreading branches of a pod mahogany tree. He was gazing intently at his reflection in the pool below. Ingwe was very particular about his appearance: he spent more time admiring himself than any other animal in the bush. As a result, he was generally considered to be the handsomest animal in the wild.

Now, Ingwe had been so self-absorbed in studying his immaculate appearance that he forgot all about Mpisi, the spotted hyena, who was waiting to see him. Eventually, the hyena made a small giggling noise to attract the leopard’s attention and remind him of their appointment. Ingwe was jolted out of his daydream and remembered that the hyena was patiently hanging about. He stood up, lazily stretched his body and jumped down from the tree in one fluid motion.

‘Well, what is it?’ asked Ingwe, curious as to why Mpisi had asked to see him.

‘News,’ said the hyena, as he trotted forward to meet the leopard. ‘Baboon has found a huge, strange gourd full of water in the forest. He is offering a reward to anyone who can drink it all in one day!’

‘Oh! That sounds easy enough. Is that all there is to this urgent meeting?’ said Ingwe, disdainfully.

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Folklore

‘Yes, that is all,’ replied the hyena, somewhat put out by the leopard’s nonchalance.

‘Hmm …’ mused Ingwe thoughtfully for a while. ‘Where did Baboon find the unusual gourd of water?’ he eventually asked.

‘No one knows for sure. Some say it came from the human village on the other side of the great river.’

‘Indeed? Then I think I will go and see what the commotion is all about. I thank you for having the sense and the manners to notify me of this event. I am much obliged.’

‘My pleasure, I assure you,’ Mpisi grinned with delight, then trotted off down towards the river to give the news to Mvuu, the hippopotamus.

Ingwe stalked off in the direction of the forest and it was only after several hours of travel that he arrived in a large clearing. It was evident that something unusual was happening. An extraordinary event, apparently, had brought together a great many of the animals of the bush and more kept arriving. In the centre of the clearing was a huge, old baboon, sitting with one of his daughters. Next to them was an enormous gourd, filled with a clear liquid, and it was this that everyone was staring at.

For a moment Ingwe surveyed the scene with dignity. Then he walked over to his friend Isilwane, the lion, and enquired whether he knew any more about the mysterious challenge.

‘Just an ordinary gourd of water, as far as I know,’ Isilwane replied. ‘They say there is a prize for anyone who can drink it all in one day. Ridiculous, I say! I could drink it in one hour.’

‘Absurdly easy,’ sneered the leopard. ‘I reckon I could drink it in three-quarters of that time. I shall win the prize!’

‘You have not won yet,’ snorted the lion indignantly. ‘When I said an hour, I actually meant half an hour. Rest assured that I shall win!’

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Folklore

‘And what good is such a boast?’ asked Mvuu, the hippopotamus, as he waddled up to join them. ‘I can beat you all easily! What is a gourd of water to me? It is a mere mouthful. I will gulp it all down in one go and not even notice it.’

The same argument was raging all over the clearing, and the volume of sound rose as the voices became more heated. Suddenly Ndwanguli, the baboon, shouted above the growing clamour and silence descended on the gathering. Baboon confirmed that the rules were as follows: Firstly, the gourd had to be drunk in one day and the individual to do this would be the winner. Secondly, straws would be drawn to see who the first contestant would be.

After a great deal of excitement, it was Mvuu, the hippopotamus, who drew the shortest straw. A hush fell over the crowd as the hippo walked up to the gourd. Looking very confident, as well he might, he took a deep breath and put his mouth to the cool, clear liquid.

A moment later, a huge roar shattered the silence of the clearing. The gathering was amazed to see Mvuu leap wildly into the air and start dancing up and down on the spot. How he roared, bellowed and howled! With tears streaming from his little eyes, he tore off down the pathway towards the river and began frantically washing out his mouth. The liquid from the gourd, though it looked like water, had stung and burnt Mvuu like nothing that he had ever tasted before.

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Folklore

This was not surprising, for the liquid was a gourd of katchass, a brew of powerful liquor that had somehow been stolen from the human village not too far away.

The animals knew nothing of such things. There was another round of noisy chatter and argument and, indeed, a good deal of laughter over Mvuu’s distress. Ingwe was secretly pleased, for he had thought, as had many other animals, that the competition would be over before it started. After all, Mvuu had been the obvious contender to win. But now, Ingwe felt there was a chance that he could win and he stepped forward to take his turn.

Silence once again fell on the clearing as Ingwe approached the gourd. All eyes were upon him as he paused for breath and then took a gulp of ‘water’. There was an instant’s pause and then Ingwe was howling and dancing on the spot. He too thought that his tongue was on fire and so raced off down to the river to wash out his mouth.

Isilwane was next. He drew the gourd to his mouth and then ran howling to the river, as did all the other animals who tried to drink the katchass.

Eventually, Inkawu, the little vervet monkey, walked up to the baboon from a patch of long grass and said he would like to try. But he asked if he could lie down to rest between each mouthful, provided that the gourd had been emptied down to the last drop before the day was done, just as the rules stated. Baboon and the remaining animals conferred and quickly agreed that the little monkey’s proposal fulfilled all the requirements.

Inkawu ran straight up to the gourd, took a sip and ran back to the grass from where he had come. Every few minutes, he would run back to the gourd for another sip and, within a couple of hours, the gourd was half empty. Already the little monkey had done what none of the other beasts of the bush could do, and he had done it making over a hundred brief visits!

Just as the sun was setting, the monkey ran up for the last time and the last few drops of the fiery liquid were consumed.

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Folklore

Most of the animals that had tried to drink the firewater had returned from the river to see whether the monkey could succeed where they had failed. Ingwe, sitting in a nearby tree, was amazed at how the little monkey could possibly stand such torment. But, as he stared at the long grass, he sensed something moving. At first, he thought that it might be a trick of the failing light. But the more intently he looked – and we know that the leopard has remarkably good eyesight – the more certain he felt that something was moving. In fact, several things were moving. No, lots and lots of things were moving! It was the tails of dozens and dozens of vervet monkeys waving in the long grass.

At that moment, loud applause broke out as the crafty little monkey was draining the last drop of ‘water’ and apparently winning the competition, none the worse for wear. In the excitement, no one had noticed the waving monkey tails in the long grass, nor did they see Ingwe sneak out of his tree and stalk into the patch of grass. Then the leopard pounced.

‘Cheats! Frauds! Liars! Tricksters!’ roared the angry cat as he struck wildly at the monkeys nearest to him. ‘How dare you trick us all? You shall be punished for such a crime!’

The monkeys screamed and scattered in fright. Even in their slightly drunken state, they knew they were in great danger and so they turned and ran. When the other animals saw what had happened, they too joined in the chase. The monkeys left the long grass and fled up into the highest trees. The lithe and limber leopard could also climb trees, though, and the monkeys were chased up into the slenderest, topmost branches.

And there they stayed, for no one else could climb so high up into the thin branches. To this day, Inkawu prefers the highest branches. The vervet monkeys seldom come down to the ground – just in case Ingwe the leopard catches them, for he still wants his revenge.

ActivitiesA. Know the facts Give the names of each of the following animals in the

folktale: leopard, hyena, baboon, hippopotamus.

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Folklore

B. Understanding the folktale Plot and sub-plot: Write down the following words and, next

to each word, write the part of the story that applies to it: ● exposition ● rising action ● conflict ● climax ● falling action ● dénouement/resolution Messages and themes: What is the message of the story? C. Language in context Name the figure of speech in the following sentences: 1. ‘How he roared, bellowed and howled!’ 2. ‘He too thought that his tongue was on fire.’ 3. ‘The lithe and limber leopard could also climb trees.’

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Folklore

The Bride of the Rainbow – A Shona folktale, retold by Nick Greaves

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Please call me’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. Where do the Shona people live?2. What is another name for Mosi-oa-Tunya and where is it?

Once upon a time, in a very old place, in a very old time, it fell to the honour of Chibuta and her family that she should sacrifice herself as a bride to the mighty, rainbow-cloaked Rain Lord, Lesa.

Chibuta was not the first of these brides. Every year, one of the prettiest maidens of the BaSonga clan was chosen. She would leave the village at dawn so that she could prepare herself for her bitter-sweet sacrifice. Each evening, there would be the signs of thunder and lightning coming from Lord Lesa’s abode, high up in the heavens. This was the harbinger of the rains, the sign that the Rain Lord was satisfied with the previous season’s sacrifice.

The bride-to-be would throw herself into the mighty Mosi-oa-Tunya waterfall on the Zambezi River, which was sacred to Lord Lesa. Lord Lesa would swallow his bride by embracing her with his waters and the people from the village would hear the last moans of the bride on the stormy wind. The following morning, the Rainbow Children would fill the sky around the great waterfall.

On the day of the ceremony, Chibuta put rattles on her ankles and decorated herself with beads and ornaments so that she could perform the ritual dances and songs. But she cried, as did all the maidens called upon to sacrifice themselves to the Rain Lord, as she carried the pot of palm wine that was to be poured into the cauldron at the foot of the falls. She, herself, would then follow it.

As she made her way down the path to the drumming of the great ngoma, the ceremonial drums, and the chanting of the masked

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Folklore

ngangas, she came upon an old woman who was trying to gather firewood. The old woman did not seem to know who Chibuta was or where Chibuta was headed, because she stopped the young girl and spoke to her in a very faint voice.

‘I am sorry to bother you, dear, but would you please help me collect some firewood?’ she said, showing the young girl her gnarled hands. ‘These old, crippled limbs make the task of collecting firewood very difficult.’

‘Certainly, mother,’ replied Chibuta respectfully. She laid down the pot of palm wine very carefully, making sure she did not spill it, and proceeded to help the old woman collect as much firewood as she could carry.

She turned to the old woman. ‘I would also help you carry this load home, mother,’ she said, ‘but I have a very long journey to take this day and it is a very important task.’

Chibuta had almost forgotten her grief as she helped the old woman.

‘Never mind, my daughter. Thank you,’ the old woman cried as Chibuta lifted the heavy load onto her bent and weary back. ‘For this, and for your other kindnesses, you will be handsomely rewarded.’ Then the old woman disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.

Chibuta continued on her way, starting to sob once again. As she walked, she heard a bird in the branch of the tree above her.

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Folklore

‘Nci-nci-nci!’ called the bird, as it hopped among the lianas that adorned the trees in the rainforest. It was the most beautiful bird that Chibuta had ever seen. It was an astonishing scarlet colour and had long, shiny, tail feathers.

‘Why do you weep, Chibuta?’ asked the little bird.

‘Why shouldn’t I weep, little bird? I am doomed to die so young – am I not entitled to cry some tears of grief?’ Chibuta told the bird her sad tale.

‘Dry your tears, little one,’ said the bird. ‘No harm will come to you. The Rainbow Lord is not the evil being that you think he is. Our Lord Lesa loves his brides and he decrees that, in order to live in the sacred palace up in the heavens, they must give up the evil ways of the world. Only good laws exist up in the heavens. But none of the brides so far have obeyed the laws of the heavens and he has had to swallow them. Had he not done so, no rain would have fallen on earth and the Rainbow Children would be no more!’

‘But how can I know the laws of heaven when I am only mortal?’ asked the girl.

‘You already know them, little sister, for you have been kind to the mother of our Lord Lesa, the old lady that you met on the path,’ the bird replied. ‘All the other girls scorned her, more concerned with their own problems and, like you, they did not recognise her. Now pluck one of my tail feathers to guide you through your perils.’

The little bird sat very still as Chibuta plucked out one of his tail feathers. She gently placed it in a band tied around her hair. She continued on her way, but the sky started to grow gloomy as if a great storm approached. However, it was not a storm. A towering cliff loomed in her path, blotting out the sky.

‘This is but a wall, built by our Lord Lesa to test you,’ the little feather whispered in Chibuta’s ear. ‘Tie me on your shoulder and I will help lift you over.’

Chibuta did this and immediately she grew two powerful scarlet wings. Testing her new wings, she found she could fly with strong

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Folklore

wingbeats – she soared high above the wall and landed on the other side in a beautiful, green valley.

‘Pluck me from your shoulder now, little sister,’ said the tail feather.

Obediently, Chibuta placed the beautiful scarlet feather back in her headband and walked through the pleasant valley. Eventually, she climbed a koppie and she saw beyond it, to her horror, a field of serpents. Their writhing bodies and flashing, forked tongues made her shriek and jump back in fear.

‘What am I going to do now?’ she wondered aloud.

The feather said to her, ‘Throw me among them!’

Chibuta did as she was told, but she was anxious, ‘I am afraid to lose you. You may be eaten!’

‘I will fly back up to you, Chibuta,’ the feather reassured her. The feather landed amongst the serpents and straightaway the field of serpents turned to a sea of scarlet and gold flame lilies. The little feather flew straight back to perch in Chibuta’s hair.

Eventually, the girl and the feather reached the foot of Lord Lesa’s home.

‘Here I must leave you, little sister,’ he said. ‘My Lord Lesa will take you by the hand now.’

‘Farewell, friendly little feather,’ Chibuta said as she watched the scarlet feather float away. It looked like a tiny, red canoe on the vast, blue ocean of the heavens. As she stood there, she was surrounded by a radiant light made up of many colours. It was as if she were surrounded by a rainbow.

‘Hail! Oh, my Lord Lesa!’ she cried as she fell forward respectfully.

‘My best beloved, come with me,’ said a soft, soothing voice. The voice had the sound of the rainbird’s wings and the patter of raindrops on the parched earth. A rainbow bore them up into the

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Folklore

high heavens to their golden thrones in the home of the Creator, Mwari.

And there Chibuta sits to this day, the brave maiden who became the Lady of the Rainbow, Queen of Lesa. She brings the mwana wa murende, the drops from the rainbow that give to Man blessings of a fruitful earth.

ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. What must Chibuta do to sacrifice herself to the Lord

Lesa? 2. What sign will the Rain Lord give the people that he is

pleased with the previous season’s sacrifice?B. Understanding the folktale Setting: Describe the setting of the story. Characters and characterisation: Describe the character of

the Rain Lord Lesa as Chibuta gets to know him. Messages and themes: What is the message of the story? C. Language in context Rewrite in reported speech: ‘I am sorry to bother you, dear,

but would you please help me collect some firewood?’ She showed the young girl her gnarled hands. ‘These old crippled limbs make the task of collecting firewood very difficult.’

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Folklore

The Unicorn – An English legend, retold by Ann Pilling

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Weird and wonderful me’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. What does the word ‘unicorn’ mean?2. Do unicorns really exist? 3. Describe what unicorns look like and what their special

qualities are.4. Who was King Arthur?

Long ago, in the days of King Arthur and his knights, there lived a girl called Rhiannon. Her father had been thrown into prison by the cruel Sir Brangwyn, who accused him of stealing deer from his forest. This was a lie. Rhiannon’s father was one of the most honourable men in the village. With him around, the great lord wouldn’t have dared to cheat and lie and demand such high taxes. Sir Brangwyn got rid of him in order to silence him.

Rhiannon’s mother had to work in the castle’s kitchen to pay for the miserable scraps of food that her husband ate in prison. So, when this story begins, poor Rhiannon had neither father nor mother. People called her ‘Sir Brangwyn’s orphan’, and how she hated him for taking away her beloved, innocent parents.

Rhiannon had to work too, even though she was only thirteen years old. Her job was to hunt in the forest for truffles – the sweet, fleshy fungi that grow on the roots of the trees. Sir Brangwyn was a fat man who loved his food and he loved the delicately flavoured truffles most of all. But truffles were difficult to find and Rhiannon often searched all day and only uncovered a handful.

Next to feasting, Sir Brangwyn loved to hunt. Often, while Rhiannon was out in the woods, he and his knights would come crashing through the trees, chasing after a deer. People said that there were still ancient beasts in Sir Brangwyn’s woods: unicorns and dragons, and basilisks whose gaze could turn you to stone. But Rhiannon had never seen animals of this kind.

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Folklore

A year to the day after her father had been imprisoned, Rhiannon ventured into the woods with her basket. She spent the whole day searching for truffles, but there were none to be found. Rhiannon was miserable, as she knew that Sir Brangwyn was not going to be happy with her for not bringing any truffles to him.

The sun was setting and Rhiannon knew that she needed to start making her way out of the forest before it got dark. As she left the forest, Rhiannon saw that she was being followed to the edge of the trees by a beautiful little foal. It had a pure white coat, with a silky mane and tail.

The people of the village saw the magnificent foal following Rhiannon. They thought that if they caught it and gave it to Sir Brangwyn, he would be so pleased with them that he would take the horse instead of their taxes. But when they tried to catch it, the horse darted away and vanished into the forest, leaving Rhiannon alone. However, to Rhiannon’s surprise, her basket was now heaped with precious truffles. She was not sure what to tell the village people who were looking at her with suspicion, because they knew how hard truffles were to find. Shyly, Rhiannon told them that the

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beautiful, white foal had shown her where to dig in order to find the truffles.

The next morning, the villagers set off to find the little white foal for themselves. If it could lead them to a hoard of truffles, their problems with greedy Sir Brangwyn would be over. They could use the truffles to pay their taxes and even have money left for their own needs. But, even though they waited all day, there was no sign of Rhiannon’s foal. Only when they had gone home did the magnificent creature come to her, shimmering through the trees and, again, as it came close, she found that her basket was filled with truffles.

Day after day, the same thing happened. Sir Brangwyn’s clerk, who was a monk and a clever man, ordered one of the castle servants to spy on Rhiannon in the forest.

The next day, the servant reported back to the clerk. ‘It is just as the girl has told us,’ he said. ‘The creature runs about in the trees and, where it stops and paws at the ground, the young girl digs and finds truffles. When her basket is full, it puts its head in the girl’s lap and she sings to it. It is a fine little beast,’ he went on, ‘there’s just one thing though …’

‘Yes?’ asked the monk, keenly, for he had guessed the truth about this creature.

‘There’s a lump between its eyes,’ said the servant nervously, ‘as if, as if …’

‘As if a horn were growing there,’ murmured the monk, finishing the servant’s sentence. And the monk knew that Rhiannon’s beautiful, white foal was not an ordinary horse. It was, in fact, a magical creature. It was a unicorn.

The monk decided to tell Sir Brangwyn his news, knowing it would make him happy. There hadn’t been any unicorns in the forest for hundreds of years and Sir Brangwyn was very excited, as he realised that a unicorn would be a prize indeed. Sir Brangwyn called together his best huntsmen and ordered them to find the magical little creature.

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Folklore

The people from the village turned out to help him, setting traps and going into the forest to watch for the little white horse, but nothing did any good. Day after day, they all trailed home disappointed because they had not caught the magical creature. The unicorn had vanished.

Sir Brangwyn began to grow impatient. Then the old monk, his clerk, told him what was needed. The surest way to catch the unicorn was to send the young girl into the woods alone, so she would lure it into the clearing. There she could sing to it, until it fell asleep. If it was sleeping, it would not see the huntsmen coming and the prize of this magical unicorn would be theirs.

So poor Rhiannon was dragged before Sir Brangwyn, who told her what she had to do. She did not want to harm her new friend, but her tears and protests did no good at all. Sir Brangwyn told her that he would kill her parents if she didn’t help him capture the unicorn. So she had to go with the royal huntsmen into the forest and wait and watch. She felt sick at heart, as she did not want to betray her new friend who had been so kind to her. The huntsmen reminded her that if she did not help them, she would never see her parents again. They sat her down and piled up a great bank of brushwood, behind which they and their horses could hide until the unicorn came.

All night they stayed there, keeping watch, waiting for the magical, beautiful little foal to come to Rhiannon. Even Sir Brangwyn was there, waiting. He was the most eager-eyed of them all, waiting behind the heaped-up branches on his huge, black horse, holding a spear in his hand.

At last, the unicorn came, like moonlight painting the dark trees. The unicorn looked this way and that, pawing at the ground. Then, scenting its friend, Rhiannon, it bounded up to her and kissed her on the forehead. It lay down next to her and placed its head on her lap.

But this time, Rhiannon did not sing to the beautiful little foal and it could not understand why. The unicorn looked up at her face, puzzled. At that very moment, Sir Brangwyn came thundering through the trees with a cry of triumph. He held his spear above his head as he charged, and it flashed coldly in the moonlight.

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Rhiannon leapt up, flung her arms around her magical new friend’s neck and dragged it into the forest, away from this cruel man and his huntsmen.

Sir Brangwyn could not believe that Rhiannon would dare to defy him. He was furious and chased after Rhiannon and the unicorn, the blade of his spear still poised for one awful thrust.

Creeping out from behind the brushwood, the huntsmen waited for their lord to return with his prize. But nobody came. All they heard was a crashing of hooves and a great neighing noise. There was a long cry of pain and then silence.

Sir Brangwyn’s finest huntsmen entered the forest in search of their master. Rhiannon hid in the shadows and watched as they hunted for Sir Brangwyn. After many hours, they found him lying dead on the forest floor. There was no sign of his horse or of his murderous spear. But something had pierced him through the heart and he lay staring glassily into the trees.

Sir Ivor, the son of the wicked Sir Brangwyn, was as kind as his father had been cruel. He emptied the castle dungeons, freeing all the innocent people, including Rhiannon’s parents, who took her home.

What Rhiannon had seen in the forest remained her secret forever. All her parents knew about her secret were four little words, which she whispered sleepily one night as she was falling asleep in her bed, ‘Unicorns have parents too.’

ActivitiesA. Know the facts What had happened to Rhiannon’s parents?B. Understanding the folktale Point of view: Does the narrator sympathise with Rhiannon

or Sir Brangwyn or the villagers? To support your answer, refer to the way in which the characters are described.

Mood: How does the mood change in this story?

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C. Language in context Name and explain the use of punctuation marks in the

following: 1. Long ago, in the days of King Arthur and his knights, there

lived a girl called Rhiannon. 2. Sir Brangwyn got rid of him in order to silence him. 3. People called her ‘Sir Brangwyn’s orphan’. 4. People said that there were still ancient beasts in Sir

Brangwyn’s woods: unicorns and dragons, and basilisks whose gaze could turn you to stone.

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Folklore

The Horned Animals and the Hyena – A Swahili folktale, retold by Sylvanna Cheketri and Hayleen Nahman

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Mad about anything’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. Point out on a map the countries in which Swahili is spoken.

Which are they?2. Have you heard the Swahili phrase ‘hakuna matata’ before?

What does it mean?

One day, there was huge excitement in the forest; all the animals were tweeting, hissing and roaring about it. There was going to be a magnificent party, but it was by invitation only. The birds and the snakes and the lions could speak of nothing else, as they had heard that this was going to be a very different kind of party. When the invitations went out, some of the animals were sad and disappointed because they had been excluded, while others rejoiced. The invitation read:

Come one, come all,Come big, come small,

If you have a horn on your head,Come and be fed.

There will be food and drink.You will not have to think.Come as early as you dare.

It’s going to be a fantastic affair.

The horned beasts had chosen a beautiful location in the middle of the forest and they had hung colourful decorations from the trees. There were lanterns to provide light at night as the feast was planned to continue for many days. There was also plenty of food and, of course, plenty to drink.

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Folklore

On the first night, only a few horned animals attended the celebrations. The rhinoceros was there, and the waterbuck, impala and springbok too. As word spread further of the wonderful party, more and more horned creatures joined the event. Kudu and his herd came the second day, followed by giraffe, who joined in the fun after a vote was taken as to whether the little stumps on his head did indeed count as horns.

It was a huge gathering and the horned animals ate and drank and chatted and laughed. The more they drank, the louder the conversation and the laughter became. The other animals who were not attending the party could hear the noise all over the forest.

After the initial disappointment had worn off, most of the other animals in the forest, like the leopard and the monkeys, really did not care that they were not welcome at the party of the horned beasts.

‘If they don’t want us un-horned animals,’ hooted the wise old owl, ‘then we don’t want to be there.’

‘That’s how we also feel,’ chanted the tiny working ants as they marched hurriedly along the forest floor. They had work to do, places to go and heavy loads to carry, so they really did not have the time to attend a silly party anyway.

Of course, not everyone had come to terms with the fact that this celebration was only for the horned beasts of the forest. In a burrow in the forest was a very silly hyena, who truly wanted to attend the party, and was very upset that he had been disqualified. The hyena thought about the party all the time, until he decided that not having a horn was not going to keep him from going.

He wandered through the forest for hours, trying to come up with a plan of action. At last, when he had almost given up, he came across the carcass of a buck. He was not sure what kind of buck it was, but it had horns and that was all he needed. He quickly detached the dead buck’s horns, his mind racing with ideas of how he would attach these to himself.

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Folklore

Then he thought of a brilliant plan and went in search of a deserted beehive. It really was the hyena’s lucky day, because it was not long before he found a deserted beehive. And, as he peered inside, he knew that he was even luckier to find more than enough sticky wax for him to use to stick the dead buck’s horns on his head.

‘Hee, hee, hee,’ the hyena chuckled to himself. ‘Those silly, horned beasts thought they could have a party and not include me …’ As he stuck the horns in place, he continued chuckling, ‘… I’ll show those horned beasts!’

The monkeys in the trees watched the hyena, and they squeaked and screeched, ‘That poor hyena is going to make such a fool of himself, and all for this silly party!’

The leopard was crouching lazily behind a rock, trying very hard to understand why the hyena was so determined to make a fool of himself. ‘I just don’t understand that foolish beast,’ he said as he licked his paw. ‘Doesn’t he know that he is not welcome?’

And the hippopotamus, who saw the hyena run past the river on his way to the party with the horns stuck on his head, mumbled, ‘That ridiculous hyena – what is he getting himself into?’

When the hyena finally arrived at the party, it was the early hours of the morning and the creatures did not take much notice of him as they had been partying all night. The beasts who weren’t at the party waited patiently to see what would happen when the hyena entered. They were very surprised that he was not kicked out immediately!The hyena managed to stay at the feasting table because a lot of the horned beasts were feeling rather groggy from the night before and weren’t alert enough to notice that there was something strange about the newcomer.

All was going well for the ‘horned’ hyena. He was eating like a king, drinking like a queen and laughing like a jester, but his fun did not last long. The cool morning air started becoming warmer as the sun began its ascent into the sky. As it moved higher and higher, it became warmer and warmer in the clearing and the beeswax that held the buck horns in place on the hyena’s head began to melt.

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Folklore

The hyena could feel the dead buck’s horns slipping off his head. He had to think of something to do and he had to think fast, before the horns fell off completely … And so he lifted his front paws, held the dead buck’s horns on and called out to all the other horned animals at the party, ‘Quickly!’ he cried out, ‘those of you whose horns come off, take them off now!’

The foolish hyena seemed to think that there were some other horned animals there whose horns could come off. He thought that those animals would also take their horns off with him. At that moment, the other horned beasts finally saw through the silly hyena’s trick and were furious with him for invading their special party.

‘He’s cheating us; he must go!’ they shouted as they drove the silly hyena away in disgrace.

The real horned creatures carried on with their party and the hyena was not allowed to forget his disgrace, as he could hear the revellers celebrating and partying in the forest for many more days.

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Folklore

ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. Which creatures could not attend the party? 2. Why does the hyena decide to attend the party? 3. Explain how the hyena disguises himself.B. Understanding the folktale Characters and characterisation: Describe the hyena’s

character.C. Language in context Read the following sentence: Then he thought of a brilliant plan and went in search of a

deserted beehive. It really was the hyena’s lucky day. 1. Give synonyms for these words: thought, brilliant, plan,

deserted, lucky. 2. Give antonyms for these words: brilliant, deserted, lucky.

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Folklore

The Magic Verandah Pole – A Venda folktale, retold by Nick Greaves

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Spaced out’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. Where do the Venda people live?2. What do you know about the Venda people?

Once upon a time, there lived a young man who had no parents. His mother and father had died when he was very young. This meant that he was alone: he lived alone and he spent his days herding cattle alone in the lonely bush. When night fell, the young man would return home to his empty hut, with nothing but the cold, moaning, night wind to keep him company.

The hut that he lived in had been built by his father many years before. It was old and it had been neglected. The young man knew that his little hut was in desperate need of repair. One morning, he decided he needed to do something to fix the dilapidated structure. He went into the bush and began cutting down poles and collecting thatch for a new roof. The largest poles were used for the verandah, which would support the roof frame, which, in turn, would support the thatch.

When the young man had completed the work on his new roof, he carved the last pole into the shape of a woman. He carved this woman so that she was most beautiful, from her shapely feet to the intricate topknot of hair that helped support the thatch edge. The people who passed by the young man’s hut would remark on how fine the carving was. The young man was lonely and so he would often find himself talking to the verandah pole as he went about his household tasks.

One day, soon after the young man had left to herd his cattle in the bush, the pole stirred, shook and turned into a beautiful woman.

The lovely woman swept the courtyard and smeared the floor with fresh cow dung. She put porridge and water in the young man’s pots

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Folklore

next to the fire, ready to be cooked when he returned that night. As night began to fall, the young man returned to his hut with its new roof. He was astonished to find that all his household chores had been completed while he was gone. He had no idea who could have done this for him, for the young woman had turned back into a verandah pole.

Many times, after the young man had left for the bush, the carved pole would turn into the beautiful, young woman. Each time, she would do the young man’s chores while he was herding his cattle. The young man was determined to find out who was doing his household chores – he wanted to solve the mystery and thank the kind person who had helped him.

So, one day, instead of herding the cattle as he usually did, he hid himself in a clump of ferns that stood near his hut. He watched his hut and was amazed to see the pole on his verandah turn into a beautiful, young woman. The work of his own hands had become a living, breathing being. He leapt out from the fern and clasped the young woman’s hands. He declared his love for her and expressed his wish for her to become his wife. The young woman gladly accepted his proposal and the two of them were married. They lived blissfully together and were content. Never again, she said, would she be a lifeless piece of wood.

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Folklore

Some time later, a messenger from the chief arrived to say that all the people must come together to work on the chief’s kraal.

‘You must come,’ the messenger commanded the young man. ‘And bring your wife too. Not one person can remain behind. Everyone has to help. Whoever lingers will be subject to a heavy fine.’

The young man had a strong feeling of foreboding and said, ‘But I have no wife. I will come alone.’

‘You’re lying!’ replied the messenger. ‘You have a wife. If you leave her behind, then you will have to pay a large fine.’

The young man’s fears were soon realised. The chief had an eye for beauty and, as soon as he saw the young bride, he wanted her to become his junior wife.

‘She must not work out in the hot sun,’ the chief said. ‘Let’s put her to work in the shade with the bearers of food.’

The young man finished early and left for home. The young woman worked until sunset, but when she was ready to leave, the chief refused to let her go.

The other bearers of food left the chief’s kraal and came singing cheerfully through the bush in the twilight. The young man saw that his bride was not among them.

‘Where is my wife?’ he asked.

They stopped singing and looked sad as they replied, ‘She is not with us. The chief has taken her as his junior wife.’

The young man was distraught, but he did not know what to do. Loneliness once again enveloped him and it seemed ten times worse than before, since now he knew how sweet companionship could be.

He resolved to get his wife back, even if he should die in the attempt.

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Folklore

And so the young man took his musical bow and gourd and set off towards the chief’s kraal. He disguised himself as a wandering performer. At the meeting place, he stood dead still and began to play his instrument. Then he danced and sang. The words of his song were so haunting that the people stopped to listen, and some called for the chief’s wives to come and hear. The young man sang his sweetest melodies and, as she listened, tears welled up in the young woman’s eyes.

Suddenly, a dust devil whirled through the kraal. When it cleared, the chief’s newest wife was nowhere to be seen. All that remained in the meeting place was a carved verandah pole, lying on the ground.

The lonely young man went back to his remote hut in the bush while the people gathered around the pole in amazement.

‘How odd is this?’ they asked each other, studying the beautifully carved pole. ‘We must go immediately to tell the chief of these strange happenings.’

When the chief saw the pole and listened to the story of what had become of his junior wife, he was afraid.

‘The singer must be a powerful witchdoctor. I want no part in sorcery,’ he said. ‘Take this pole and return it to his home, for it is of no value to me.’

So the people of the royal kraal returned the verandah pole to the young man’s hut and they threw it to the ground at the entrance.

‘Here is your verandah pole!’ they called out to the young man. ‘Our chief has no use for it now.’

As soon as the people had left, the pole changed back into the beautiful, young woman and the couple embraced in great joy. The chief was afraid of the young man who had performed magic – and so left the young couple alone. The young man and his beautiful, young wife lived a happy and contented life.

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Folklore

ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. How did the young man come to have a beautiful

verandah pole? 2. How did the young man find out who was doing the

chores around his house? What did he do then?B. Understanding the folktale Conflict: Explain where the conflict in the story comes from. Suspense and surprise: How are suspense and surprise used to

maintain the interest of the reader until the end of this story?C. Language in context Copy the following table into your workbook and complete it.

The heading is: Degrees of comparison.Positive Comparative Superlativelonelyneglectedbeautifullovelysweet

solutions for all - online.htseden.co.za · the magic verandah pole – a venda folktale, retold by...

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