Outdoors it was dark and still. Who could find a monkey now? From
somewhere far off Nomusa could hear the shouts of the older boys. In the
waning moonlight she began walking toward the huts in which she had not
made a search. How thankful she was that there were still places to
search.
Walking toward the hut nearest the kraal entrance, she was suddenly
startled by a long black shadow that seemed to withdraw hastily as she
approached. Nomusa stood still, frightened but curious. Something was
prowling outside the kraal fence. There was no doubt of that.
Again the shadow passed the kraal entrance, as if deciding whether it
should come in or not. Nomusa felt goose flesh creep over her whole
body. Was it a wild animal about to attack them? What should she do? She
had no weapon with which to drive it off or kill it. She wanted to run
or shout for help. The children might be in great danger if she did not
act quickly. But if she screamed to attract the attention of Damasi’s
father and uncle, she might cause whatever it was to rush in at once and
attack.
[Illustration: [Girl]]
Again she saw the indistinct form. At the same time, as the moon
reappeared from under the clouds, Nomusa’s eye caught the glint of
something long and pointed lying next to one of the huts. Could it be a
spear? What a lucky thing if it was a weapon of some kind! When the
shadow disappeared again and the moon floated under the clouds once
more, Nomusa dashed to the object she hoped was a spear. Yo! It was. She
picked it up just as if she had been accustomed to holding such weapons
all her life. Nomusa did not doubt for a moment that she would know how
to handle it. Often enough she had watched the men and boys throwing
spears. Secretly she had even practiced with long, heavy sticks.
She felt the point of the spear with her finger. It was very sharp. She
began moving cautiously. Nomusa’s hair fairly stood on end as she saw
that the black thing was a wild boar. Only too well she knew how fierce
a wild boar could be. Every Zulu feared and hated this vicious beast
with his dangerous tusks. Standing with her back flattened against the
kraal fence, close to the entrance, with spear up and ready, Nomusa hid
in the deep shadow. She waited tensely for the boar to venture in. The
wind, fortunately, was blowing in such a direction that the boar
couldn’t get her scent. Her upraised arm trembled a bit, then became
steady as she waited.
Soon the boar’s ugly head appeared within the kraal entrance not far
from Nomusa. He had decided to come in. It was a rare chance for him.
Ordinarily the kraal fence was entirely closed, but tonight, because the
older boys were out, the kraal gate was left open for them. Slowly the
beast moved his clumsy body through the kraal entrance. Once within, he
lowered his head as if he had got a whiff of something and, with a
snort, got ready to rush in the direction of the hut where the girls
were playing _ngelitshe_.
There was no time to lose. With all her might, Nomusa hurled her spear
at the neck of the boar. _Hau!_ The spear caught him in the throat. With
an enraged snort, he rushed toward Nomusa, the spear still sticking in
his neck. He stumbled, and got up again. His roars, mingled with grunts
of pain, woke up Damasi’s father and uncle, as well as everyone else who
had been asleep. Intombi and Sisiwe rushed out of the hut, followed by
the other girls. When they saw the wounded boar they ran behind the hut.
The boar had now fallen, close to one of the huts. He made powerful
efforts to raise himself and almost got up, when Damasi’s father dashed
up. He let fly an arrow from his bow, and the boar fell dead.
Nomusa ran to the side of Damasi’s father. “How glad I am you came!”
Amazed, he asked, “Was it you who hurled the spear?”
Nomusa nodded.
Everyone crowded round the dead boar in astonishment.
Damasi’s father said: “Nomusa is a brave girl. It was she who discovered
the boar and wounded him. She has saved us from great danger. I shall
tell her father, Chief Zitu, about her bravery.”
There were loud cries of agreement. “Hau! Yo!”
Damasi’s father put his arm around Nomusa’s shoulder. “Come and rest.
You are weary.”
She followed him obediently. Unrolling a mat in the little hut occupied
by Damasi’s mother and his baby brother, she threw herself upon it,
exhausted. Only now did Nomusa realize fully the great danger she had
been in and how lucky she had been. Oh, how tired and sleepy she was!
Yawning, she put her arm under her head as a pillow and was about to
fall asleep when there flashed through her mind the memory of her lost
monkey, whom she had forgotten in all the excitement.
Her eyes filled with tears and she tried to swallow the lump in her
throat. She buried her head in her arms. The joy of the day was entirely
gone. Though she had been a brave hunter but a short time before, now
she was only a small girl crying bitterly over a lost pet.
At last she dozed off and fell to dreaming of her search through deep
and dangerous forests for her little monkey.
Muttering restlessly, Nomusa tossed from side to side in her sleep. She
put her hand on her neck to scratch herself. Suddenly she felt something
soft and warm moving across her shoulders and the back of her neck. She
woke up with a start and clutched at the thing with both hands. There
was a squeal of pain as she pulled it forward. Her fright turned to joy
as she saw that what she held in her hand was the tail of a monkey.
Dube!
“Oh, I have hurt you!” cried Nomusa, taking Dube in her arms and hugging
him.
Damasi’s mother smiled and said, “I am glad you like the little monkey.
Damasi went to a great deal of trouble to get him when he was tending
the cows in the pasture. He kept him as a pet for himself until you won
him as a prize.”
Just then Damasi’s baby brother wailed. “_Tula!_ We must be quiet now,”
warned Damasi’s mother, and then, lying down on the mat next to the
baby, she began nursing him. Soon he fell asleep again. Nomusa lay down
on her mat, too, drawing Dube close to her.
“Where did you go to, you bad little Dube?” she whispered to him
affectionately.
“Tchirk? Tchirk?” Dube answered, snuggling beside her. The warmth of his
body next to her shoulder soothed Nomusa into a sleep from which she did
not waken until she heard loud calls of “Come! Come! Time to go back to
our kraals. Hurry, we are going!”
The sun was just rising above the horizon. The sky was lined with rose
and deep blue, but the early morning air was cool, and the waiting
children jumped about to keep warm. Pink and red flowers dotted the
fields a short distance away, and a few birds were beginning to twitter.
The older boys straggled back into their groups exhausted and irritable
because they had not slept all night. But they were aroused into
curiosity by cries of “Did you hear? Don’t you know?”
“What? What? Tell us,” they demanded eagerly.
“Nomusa and her wild boar. She hit it with a spear. You can see it over
there—behind the cattle kraal.”
Those who had not yet seen the dead boar ran off at once, to return full
of astonishment. They all agreed Nomusa was as good as any boy. Sisiwe
had to admit that it was lucky for all of them that Nomusa liked
shooting and hunting.
Nomusa was surrounded by the girls in her group, who gazed upon her with
pride and envy. What a lot she would have to tell Themba! She could
hardly wait to see his face when she showed him the monkey. She knew he
would ask her to tell him the story of the boar over and over again.
There was a loud whistle. The children fell into lines, waving good-by
to Damasi and his brothers and sisters and cousins. Tired and
bedraggled, the children marched off. Some pushed each other
ill-humoredly and quarreled on the way home, but finally they reached
their kraals in time to begin their various duties—the boys going off to
the pasture, the girls to their tasks. The boys hoped to make up their
lack of sleep while tending the cows; but the girls knew they would have
to wait until evening before they slept again. As soon as Nomusa entered
her kraal with her brothers and sisters, she went directly to her hut to
start her work.
In a few moments Nomusa was out of the hut again, headed for the stream
with Dube perched on the empty water jar that rested on her hip. She
fairly danced along the path as she looked at Dube and thought, “Never
will my trips for water be tiresome again.” She tweaked his ear gently,
and Dube looked up at her and said, “Tchirk, tchirk.”
[Illustration: [Huts]]