Nomusa’s father had already come out of his hut to greet the hunters who
had coughed their notice of arrival. He was standing in front of his two
tall neighbors, laughing and talking with them.
As Nomusa came up to her father, carrying Mdingi’s bow and arrows, she
politely said, “_Bayete!_”
Zitu said proudly, “Here is Nomusa, my daughter.” Then, looking at her
with a twinkle in his eye, he added, “She will show us how to catch wild
boars. She is an expert.”
Those who were not going on the hunt were already awakened by the noise
of the hunters; they hurried to stand a short distance off in order to
watch what was going on. Although Themba could not see his sister,
Nomusa could see him staring, wide-eyed, curious about all that was
going on. More and more hunters arrived with their dogs, until there
were about forty men and boys and a dozen dogs.
Nomusa heard one of the hunters saying, “I starved my dog three days to
make him keen for this hunt.”
“Ay,” answered another, “mine is like a hyena. He has had no food for a
long time, either. Are you sure the bitter bark you told me to chew on
the morning of the hunt will strengthen my wind? So far I do not feel
its benefit.”
“Yo! It has never failed,” said the first. “Look, over there. Someone is
sweeping one of the huts. Bad luck! In our kraal, no one is allowed to
sweep on the morning of the hunt, lest we return empty-handed.”
The moment Nomusa heard this, she was filled with such dread at this bad
omen that she crept out between the long black legs of the hunters, ran
to Themba, and said, “Go quickly and tell Somcuba’s sister that there
must be no sweeping on the morning of the hunt, or we shall have bad
luck.”
Themba hurried off to carry out Nomusa’s order.
[Illustration: [Family]]
Now that all the hunters had assembled, they formed little bands of
relatives or close neighbors. First they began by saluting their chief,
dancing before him. Each group danced and rushed around the kraal,
yelling and boasting of their courage and strength. Then they formed a
huge circle around their chief and stood respectfully before him.
Nomusa’s father began to instruct them as to their positions in the
hunt. Every time he finished a sentence, the hunters would strike on the
ground with their spears and shout, “_Tshilo!_”
Zitu said, “You all know the rules of the hunt, but in case anyone has
forgotten, I shall tell you again that the first man to draw the blood
of the prey is the owner. The next man to stab it can claim a leg, and
if it is necessary for a third to strike, he may have a shoulder. The
chief receives a leg from every animal.” He looked around with a severe
expression to see if everyone was paying attention, and continued. “If a
small animal is killed, the hunter who has killed it must immediately
carry it to me and claim it as his own. In this way there can be no
quarrels. You have all heard?”
There were loud calls of “_Yo!_” “_Hau!_” “It is understood.”
“We go now,” said Nomusa’s father.
A happy murmur rose through the crowd, accompanied by the clink of metal
weapons as the hunters arranged their shields, spears, bows and arrows,
and liana ropes. The journey began.
Nomusa could hardly believe they were really on their way. Filing out of
the kraal close behind Zitu, she turned her head hastily to see if she
could catch a last glimpse of Dube. Perhaps Sisiwe was in the crowd,
holding the little monkey, but Nomusa’s view was blocked by a solid wall
of moving men. It was hopeless to try to see anything behind them.
As they marched along, the warming rays of the rising sun fell on the
dew-soaked ground which looked so green and fresh. The wet grass swished
damply against the hunters’ naked bodies. Nomusa wondered what the
elephant country would be like. Would it be as rolling, would there be
as many narrow little streams, would there be wide meadows? Nomusa had
never been further than Damasi’s kraal on its flat-topped hill. She had
often tried to imagine what the country might be like far beyond. That
there were places where there were eland, lions, elephants, inyala,
sassaby, and springbok she knew from having heard stories of previous
hunts. She had heard that there was even a world of water called an
ocean, if one kept walking east as far as one could go.
The hunters talked and laughed, now and then pointing to some indistinct
moving object off in the distance. Their curiosity and laughter were
easily aroused. It interested Nomusa to see how playful these grown men
were. They behaved no more seriously than her small brothers. Only her
father remained dignified, walking ahead with a long stride, eyes alert,
ears keen.
After Nomusa had walked behind him for some time, Zitu unexpectedly
turned his head in her direction as if he had suddenly remembered that
Nomusa was with them. He looked at her and said, “We have far to go. I
hope you do not tire easily.”
“That I do not,” answered Nomusa, looking into Zitu’s friendly eyes. At
the moment it was difficult to imagine how fierce and angry he could be.
Should she dare to ask him how far they were to walk before they reached
elephant country? It would be useful to know, so that she would not be
expecting to see elephants crash out at them all along the way. Not that
she was afraid, but it was good to know what to expect.
“Come, Nomusa. Walk along beside me,” suggested her father. “It will
make it easier for you if you have anything to ask.”
Quickly Nomusa ran forward, trying to match her step to his. She thought
her father even slowed up a little so that she would not have to take
little running steps to keep up with him.
“Is it far to the elephant country?” asked Nomusa.
“It is about five sleeps away,” Zitu answered, his eyes on the path
ahead. “It may be nearer or farther than that. Much depends on whether
herds of elephants are moving south or north, and whether we walk along
speedily and without any mishap. We are headed for some high country and
wide rivers where elephants like to wander.”
Nomusa listened carefully. That was just what she wanted to know.
Proudly she walked, letting nothing escape her notice. Oh, there was a
crested crane! She had never seen one before, but she knew what it was.
“Look, Father!” urged Nomusa excitedly.
“Not good to eat,” Zitu replied, indifferent.
[Illustration: [Bird]]
Nomusa was about to say that she had pointed it out for its beauty and
not as something to eat, but she checked herself. Perhaps hunters should
not think of things along the way except as a possibility for food or
for exchange, like elephants’ tusks.
She now walked along silently, thinking of the red bush lily she saw in
one place, of the grassland flowers she saw in another. The farther they
walked from the kind of country she was used to, the more different
trees and wild flowers she saw. She must remember to tell Sisiwe about
the gladioli she saw growing wild next to that narrow stream at which
they stopped to drink. She would hardly believe it. And the birds! Even
Mdingi had never seen so many. A flying hammerkopf attracted her
attention as it snapped up frogs in a marshy pool.
After some distance, Nomusa saw her father wiping his perspiring brow
with the back of his hand. “The sun is high,” he declared. “In a little
while we must stop to eat and rest until the sun’s rays are not so hot.”
[Illustration: [Bird]]
When they reached a clear running stream, the chief turned and called to
the hunters, “Here! A good place for eating and resting.”
Immediately all came together, and as if they had already agreed on what
was to be done, some left to go off into the woods to look for small
animals, others began gathering brushwood for a fire. Several took out
of a small sack some mealies and yams.
Nomusa looked at everything with the liveliest interest. She quenched
her thirst in the swiftly moving stream and then hurried to help carry
twigs and branches to the blazing fire. Zabala, Damasi, and the other
boys did their share of the work, obeying the orders of the older
hunters.
Before long the hunters returned one by one with rabbits, partridges,
some quail, and a guinea hen, which they set to cleaning and roasting.
As they waited for the food to cook, Nomusa rested. Soon Damasi came to
her, holding two half-cooked partridge legs. “For you,” he said,
offering Nomusa one.
When everyone had eaten, the hunters lay on the grassy bank under the
protecting shade of tall plane trees. They rested or slept until Zitu
gave the signal to start off again.
Towards evening Nomusa felt so weary as she trudged along that she could
hardly wait for her father to call a halt. And though she did not like
to admit it, even to herself, distant sounds of animals half frightened
her. She heard the hoarse growl of a lion and barks she could not
identify. Nomusa looked at the others, but they went on as if they had
heard nothing. With the early moon climbing high over the horizon, there
was still plenty of light to walk by so long as they kept to the open
spaces. At last, however, it was necessary to stop, for a dark wood lay
in front of them which the moon’s rays could not penetrate. Zitu called
a halt.
Now a very large fire was made. It would not be used only for cooking
and warming purposes; it would have to last all through the night to
keep away prowling animals, as well. Tonight there was no time for any
of them to hunt for food, and they depended on what they still had in
their sacks of mealies and yams. The food, though not plentiful, was
filling; and when each had eaten his share, he lay down to sleep, close
to the fire. Nomusa was glad to hear Zitu appoint one of the hunters as
sentinel.
Nomusa was lying on her back looking up into the star-studded sky,
wondering how far they were from their kraal, when she saw something
moving high up in the trees. Her heart thumped wildly. She was about to
move over quietly to warn her father, when she saw the leaves stir
again. A baboon! _Hau!_ There was another, holding a baby. A baboon
family was nesting in the tree.
Suddenly there was a muffled squeal as one of the mothers slapped her
baby and grabbed it by the hair on the back of its head. Apparently it
had put something in its mouth that it should not have. The mother
baboon stuck her finger into the baby’s mouth and pried out what it was
eating. The howl from the baby caused dozing hunters to reach for their
weapons. Then they saw the baboons, and one said, “They will not bother
us if we do not bother them.”
[Illustration: [Bird]]
A loud bark came from the father baboon. He seemed to be scolding and
saying, “Stop that awful noise!” The cries ceased, and all was still in
the baboon family once more. Everything seemed safe and peaceful, and
Nomusa fell asleep.
[Illustration: [Huts]]