Negro myths from the Georgia coast, told in the vernacular — A Reader’s Guide

Trickster Dynamics and Moral Ambiguity

Buh Rabbit dominates the collection as a trickster who wins through cunning rather than strength. In one tale, he retaliates against Buh Elephunt for crushing his children by stuffing dry leaves and grass into the elephant's ears and setting them alight, leaving him with permanently floppy ears. The rabbit's revenge is brutal and final. Elsewhere, he tricks Buh Wolf out of turtle eggs by feigning concern: he claims the eggs gave his wife colic, then retrieves them after Wolf throws them away. When caught red-handed eating the eggs, Rabbit escapes up a persimmon tree, then bribes Buh Possum with sweet fruit to abandon his guard post. The stories rarely moralize; instead, they reward quick thinking and punish gullibility, with Buh Wolf often left "bex eh dunno wuffer do."

Coastal Setting and Vernacular Voice

The tales are anchored in the specific ecology of the Georgia coast: rice fields, riverbanks, marshes, and sea islands. Characters hunt "Cooter agg" along the riverbank when the tide is high, and Buh Alligatur never sleeps far from the river bank. The dialect is rendered phonetically, with features like "duh" for "doing," "enty" for "ain't it," and "tek" for "take." Jones's prefatory note explicitly contrasts this "sui generis" lingo with Middle Georgia dialect. The stories also incorporate local flora—pussimmon trees, dry leaf and dead grass—and fauna such as mash-hens, king crabs, and porpoises, grounding the narratives in a recognizable landscape.

Patterns of Deception and Escalation

A recurring structural pattern involves a character being tricked, then seeking revenge, which in turn escalates the conflict. In the turtle-egg episode, Buh Rabbit's initial theft leads to a chase, a tree standoff, and the duping of Buh Possum. The cycle often ends with the trickster escaping punishment, leaving the dupe to vent frustration. The tales also feature layered deceptions: Rabbit uses false sympathy, bribery, and distraction to achieve his ends. The narrator occasionally comments dryly, as in "Eh tek a smart somebody fuh head Buh Rabbit," acknowledging the trickster's superior intelligence. These patterns suggest a worldview where wit is the primary survival tool in a precarious environment.

Readers should approach these tales as transcriptions of oral performances, noting the rhythmic repetition and direct dialogue that suggest a live storytelling context. The dialect may require slow reading, but the plots are straightforward and reward attention to the characters' shifting alliances. Comparing these coastal versions with Harris's interior tales reveals how geography shaped the region's folklore.

The rain slid down the windows while Buh Rabbit’s schemes unfolded in that rich, unhurried Georgia voice. Something about his patient cunning lingered, a quiet thread pulling eastward. Later, shelving damp books, my hand found a slimmer volume, its stories speaking in that older, measured cadence. The same trickster spirit, the same knowing pause. Folk-Lore and Legends: Oriental — Reading Companion felt less like a discovery, more like a familiar echo.