Jeffrey Ploskonka/National Museum of African Art

A wooden headrest. The elaborate carvings indicate that the piece belonged to a person of great prestige or power.

Arrow Owner answered, “I want only my own.”

“Well,” said the chief, “let them pay you ten rifles.”

“No, I want only my arrow.”

“I have had enough of this,” said the chief, disgusted.  “All of you go home.  Let him do as he wants.”

So, the lad who shot the arrow went searching for it from morning till night.  His name was Arrow Searcher.

The name of the owner of that lost arrow was Headstrong. 

One day Arrow Searcher went to sleep.  In his dream he was told to kick over the termite hill where the trail was lost.

He went to the spot, kicked over the hill, and at once saw a deep hole that led to a bloodstained trail.  Stooping, he entered the hole, following the trail.

He came into a field where he saw women talking.  They asked him, “Why do you come here? You living and we dead have nothing to do with each other.”

“I follow a boar I hit with somebody else’s arrow.”

The women said, “It is your father you hit.  He said, ‘Let us go to the field of the child I left behind and dig out some manioc to eat.’  And that is how you shot the arrow that hit your father.  He lies in that house over there.”

Crying, Arrow Searcher entered the house where his father was.  His father was surprised and said, “Eh! Why are you here?”

“I am looking for the arrow with which I hit you.”