Chief Zitu squatted on his special bamboo mat in the hut of his wife
Makanya. He sniffed the food in the bowl Nomusa handed him.
“I think I know what meat this is,” he said to his wife.
“It is Nomusa’s wild boar,” Makanya said, proudly.
“I have heard about it.” Nomusa’s father looked at her keenly. “It is a
pity Nomusa is a girl, because she would have made a good hunter. I
could use another strong, brave boy to help on this hunt.”
“If I were allowed to go with you on the hunt, I might be able to catch
another boar for you on the way,” Nomusa suggested, surprised at her own
daring.
“Nomusa! What are you saying!” reproved her mother.
But Zitu smiled good-naturedly and caught her arm in his powerful hand,
feeling her hard little muscles. “Nomusa is strong—as strong as many
boys older than she is. And she is clever and brave.”
He looked at his daughter again, and then at his wife. “If Nomusa
wishes, she may come on the hunt. But she must be sure to cause me no
shame.”
Nomusa’s eyes widened with surprise. Makanya was speechless. “Oh, my
father, thank you!” Nomusa burst out. “Please let me go with you, yes,
yes!” She turned to her mother. “I know Sisiwe will do some of my work.”
As if her father had already arranged everything, he declared, “Mdingi
lost the cow, and you found her, so he will not go on the hunt this
time. Kangata, of course, is too young. Between your brothers and
Sisiwe, your mother will be able to get her work done.” Zitu pushed away
his bowl, saying, “I have finished.”
Makanya handed him some white clay with which to remove the grease from
his fingers. When Nomusa brought him the water gourd again, he rinsed
his mouth and with his fingers rubbed the food from his teeth. He was
clean again.
The business of the hunt settled, Zitu gave his attention to his wife
and baby. Nomusa slipped quietly out of the hut.
She felt as if she would burst with joy and looked for someone to tell.
Themba was standing outside the hut, looking lonely. To relieve her
feelings, Nomusa picked him up, pulled his hair gently, and turned him
upside down until his little pink heels wriggled in the air. Themba
squealed with delight, and Dube hopped up and down, bewildered at this
curious kind of play.
Sisiwe came along, bearing vegetables from her mother’s garden.
“Oh, Sisiwe,” Nomusa cried, “our father says I may go on the elephant
hunt!”
Sisiwe was too surprised to say anything.
“Will you take care of Dube for me while I am gone?” Nomusa asked.
“Of course, my sister,” Sisiwe answered. “And I will help your mother,
too,” she added generously. “Yo, Nomusa, what do you think the other
girls will say?”
There were no preparations to make for the trip, and the two days before
the hunters were to meet were very long ones for Nomusa. She would have
liked to talk about the hunt with her family. But she did not, because
she saw Mdingi was hurt because she was going and he was not. Perhaps he
really should be the one to go. Still, her father had said plainly that
Mdingi would not be allowed to go, since he had lost the cow.
Timidly she spoke to Mdingi about her feelings. “I wish you were going
on the hunt, my brother.”
“It is no matter,” Mdingi said indifferently.
But he was unhappy, Nomusa knew. How she wished there were something she
could do to help him! If only Zitu knew how clever Mdingi was at
composing songs and stories, how much he knew about birds and animals!
And even so, he was a better shot with the bow and arrow than most of
the boys. He had proved that at Damasi’s party.
It was just that Mdingi did not care as a boy should for shooting and
hunting and such things. Still, his pride was hurt when the chief chose
his daughter to go with him on the elephant hunt instead of his son.
At dawn on the morning of the departure, Nomusa crept out of her hut
very quietly, taking with her the empty water jar. She would leave
everything in readiness for her mother when she awoke.
There would be just time enough to fetch the water, grind some mealie
corn, and stir up the fire before it would be time to leave.
When she carried Dube over to Sisiwe’s hut, he complained sleepily at
being disturbed.
“It is going to be hard for me to leave you, little Dube,” Nomusa said
to him.
She fastened a cord to an outer post of Sisiwe’s hut and attached the
other end around Dube’s neck. Then she gave him a bowl of _amasi_, which
he dearly loved. Soon he began eating; the curds were too good to
ignore.
While Dube ate, Nomusa looked in the direction of her father’s hut to
see if any of the hunters had yet arrived. She saw two glistening
hunters entering through the kraal gate, their spears and large shields
held close to their bodies. Nomusa left Dube abruptly and ran back to
her hut. She had forgotten to get a handful of fat to rub on her body to
make it glisten like the bodies of the other hunters. She had heard that
fat made one active and supple.
Rubbing and polishing herself did not take long. Nomusa had done her
work well, and she was ready to leave the hut. With a final glance to
see that all was prepared for her mother when she awoke, she decided
that she could now leave. She had just got outside without awakening any
of her family when she heard an insistent call. “Nomusa, wait!”
Startled, she turned round and saw Mdingi with a bow and arrows in his
hand. Her heart leaped. Had he determined to go and make her stay
behind?
“What is it?” asked Nomusa.
“Here. Take these with you. You will need a good weapon,” and he offered
her the bow and arrows.
“They are your best bow and arrows!” exclaimed Nomusa, too surprised
even to touch them.
“Ay, but I want you to have them. I am disappointed that I have to stay
at home, but I am not angry with you.”
Overcome by Mdingi’s generosity, Nomusa did not know what to say. She
hesitated to take the offered bow and arrows, but finally did so. “You
are good, my brother. I am sorry it is not you who will use the bow and
arrows. I shall take good care of them.”
“It matters not about them. Only see to it that no harm comes to _you_,”
Mdingi said. “We shall be awaiting your return.”
He touched her arm affectionately and ran to the cattle kraal without
another word.
[Illustration: [Children]]
[Illustration: [Huts]]