The Jaboti and the Onça

Note: This article has been excerpted from a larger work in the public domain and shared here due to its historical value. It may contain outdated ideas and language that do not reflect TOTA’s opinions and beliefs.

“The Jaboti and the Onça” from Traditionary Stories Extant among the Tapoia Indians Inhabiting the Valley of the Middle Amazon in Northern Brazil by Edward Sprague Rand, 1882

A Jaboti was once climbing up a large Sipo.

A Tiger Cat passing by said: "What are you doing Jaboti?"

"Why, Onça, I am playing."

"What are you playing?" said the Onça.

"Why, I am jumping; do you wish to see how I jump? I will climb up again."

Said the Onça: "Climb up and let me see."

The Jaboti had previously fixed in the ground a stout stick of Praconvula wood, the top of which he had sharpened. He climbed up the sipo and let himself fall upon the stick, from which striking upon his hard shell, he rebounded to the ground unhurt.

Said the Onça: "You know nothing about climbing, Jaboti; I can do it better than you." So the Onça climbed up the sipo far higher than the Jaboti and let himself fall, as the Jaboti had done, but striking upon the pointed stake it impaled him, piercing his belly and coming out through his back, and he died miserably.

Then the Jaboti brought a large knife and cut off the legs of the Onça. Taking off the skin and flesh, he cleaned the bones, and piercing them with holes, he made a flute. Then he went playing through the wood-paths and singing, "My flute is the bones of an Onça; my flute is the bones of an Onça."

The father of the Onca heard him, and coming into the path, called; "What are you singing, Jaboti?"

"I am only saying, 'I have my flute,' " replied the Jaboti.

"But I heard you saying, 'My flute is the bones of an Onça,'" said the Onça.

"Oh, no; you did not hear me well," rejoined the Jaboti.

"It is well," said the Onça; "adios, I am going away."

But he only went a short distance, and hid in the wood. The Jaboti thinking him gone, went on singing as before, "My flute is the bones of an Onça."

But the Onça listening, said to himself, "O, Jaboti, if I do not eat you, no one shall; I will go and wait for you at the door of your hole." So the Onça went to the Jaboti's house and waited for him at the door.

In a little while the Jaboti arrived, and seeing the Onça, called out: "What are you doing there, Onça?"

"I am only looking round."

"And why are you looking round my house?"

"O, Jaboti," said the Onça, "your day has come, for to-day I will eat you, because you have killed my son."

"Well," said the Jaboti, "if you were a man, perhaps you could; but you are only an Onça."

"It makes no difference," replied the Onça, "I will catch you by the legs when you are entering your hole."

So the Jaboti crawled into his hole, laughing to himself at the Onça. But the Onça caught him by the hind leg and held him fast.

"O, Onça," said the Jaboti, "do you think you have caught me? You have only hold of the root of a tree."

So the Onça let go, and the Jaboti going into his hole, took his flute and sang, "My flute is the bones of an Onça."

"May the devil take you," said the Onça; "but I will wait for you here; when you come out I will catch you." But the Jaboti was tired and went to sleep and slept for three days and three nights. The Onça waited long, but at last, tired and hungry, went away, and so the Jaboti escaped.

Rand, Edward Sprague. Traditionary Stories Extant among the Tapoia Indians Inhabiting the Valley of the Middle Amazon in Northern Brazil. Geo. S. Davis, 1882.

Edward Sprague Rand

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