“Today we are in elephant country.” Zitu’s words were loud enough for
everyone to hear, though he spoke to Nomusa, who was walking by his
side. “I expect we shall see elephant tracks before sunset.”
“You were right then, my father,” Nomusa said admiringly, “when you
first told me the elephants were five sleeps away.”
“I have been here before—many times,” the chief replied. “Usually
elephants stay in about the same places. It was not any special wisdom
on my part that I should know this.”
Nomusa was proud that her father, though an important Zulu chief, never
pretended to know more than he actually did. She had heard of chiefs who
claimed to have mysterious sources of knowledge and power, who were
haughty and imperious with their people. Sometimes they were cruel, too.
But not Zitu. He was simple and just. Although as chief he was entitled
to a larger share of whatever came to them, he never took more than an
ordinary Zulu.
Nomusa and her father were passing a grove of trees when she called:
“See, over there! How strange those trees are! Why do they have no bark
on them?”
Zitu looked where Nomusa pointed. It was as she said. There were trees
without bark, or with large strips of it peeling off and hanging limply
to the ground. Even the sides of some of the trees looked worn down.
“Yo! Elephants have been using this grove,” exclaimed Zitu. “You have
sharp eyes, my daughter.” He looked keenly at the trees and the ground
around them. Several of the smaller trees had been uprooted, and not a
blade of grass remained. Nomusa saw the enormous footprints of the
elephants in the soft earth.
“Hear me!” Zitu spoke in a very serious tone, and the hunters listened
to him with respectful attention.
“Now that we are really in elephant country, we must be more cautious
than ever before. Those of you who have never been on an elephant hunt
do not know how dangerous it can be.
“A few years ago, Caluza, one of our bravest hunters, was killed and two
others were badly wounded by an enraged elephant. We came upon a herd
that had smelled us before we knew where they were. The first thing we
heard was their furious trumpeting; then suddenly we saw them, waving
their trunks and fanning out their great ears menacingly.
“With no further warning they charged us. We leaped to one side to throw
our spears at the beasts. But one elephant seized Caluza with his trunk.
He dashed him over and over against a tree until there was no life in
him. Then he threw him down and trampled his body horribly.”
Zitu paused, looking at the ring of faces. “We took back tusks from that
hunt,” he said slowly, “but we paid too dearly for them. Let us hope
there will be no sorrow in the kraals when we return from this hunt.
“We must find the elephants before they find us. And each one must do
his part at just the right time. One more thing: we must not kill an
elephant too close to the river, for then he will fall in the water and
we shall never get the tusks.
“Use your eyes and use your ears! We go now.”
As they started Zabala came running to his father. “Look over here!”
Zabala had found the path by which the elephants entered and left the
grove. It was smooth and hard; they must have used it many times.
“These tracks are not fresh. I think it is many days since the elephants
visited this grove,” said one of the hunters. “The droppings look old.”
“Let us go in that direction,” Zitu decided, pointing the way. “And
quietly. Hold your weapons ready but do not use them until I give the
signal.”
As they moved along the path, Nomusa wondered how many elephants they
would find at one time, how they would manage to get an elephant back to
their kraal, how she would succeed in hitting an elephant with Mdingi’s
arrow in just the right spot to kill it. Her mind was so full of these
thoughts that she did not look carefully in front of her. All at once
she stepped on a bunch of dry twigs, making such a loud snapping noise
that the hunters were startled. They turned angrily, frowning at Nomusa.
Zitu said quietly: “We do not want anyone to say that this is what
happens when we take a girl along. Such a noise might drive the
elephants at us or away from us entirely. Let them but smell or hear us
and things might go badly! One person’s carelessness can endanger us
all. Do not let it happen again.”
As if her father had to tell her that! Nomusa was overwhelmed by her
feeling of disgrace. Zitu would know better than to take a girl with him
another time.
On went the hunters, paying no further attention to Nomusa. She walked
along in their midst, her eyes fast to the ground, still filled with
shame. After a while she felt a gentle nudge at her elbow. At first she
paid no attention to it, thinking one of the hunters had accidentally
bumped her. But when the nudge became more insistent, she looked up and
saw Damasi. He grinned sympathetically and offered her some wild figs.
Nomusa felt too unhappy to take any, and she solemnly shook her head in
refusal. Damasi did not press her, but began eating them himself. They
continued walking side by side for some time. Then Nomusa turned her
head to see if Damasi had left any figs for her. He caught her glance
and rubbed his middle enthusiastically to show how good the figs had
been. He held out an empty hand and pointed down his throat to show
where the plump figs had gone.
Nomusa’s disappointed look amused Damasi, and he could not help
laughing. She decided that he was a greedy boy, no different from all
the others.
[Illustration: [Men]]
But soon Damasi nudged her again and teasingly showed her the same
handful of figs he had held out to her the first time. Despite herself,
Nomusa smiled. Damasi had only pretended he had eaten them. This time
she did not risk refusing the figs, but took them eagerly. She gave back
half to Damasi, and together they walked on, eating cheerfully. By now
Nomusa had forgotten her disgrace, but she did not forget to be careful.
Just before noon, the elephant path they were following disappeared into
the grassy plains.
“This is the time to take greatest care,” Zitu said, and the word was
passed quietly among the hunters. They moved slowly and noiselessly,
searching for new elephant tracks.
As they approached a wide deep river, they heard loud splashing sounds.
The hunters stood still for a moment, listening; then they moved on
silently toward the river.
As they drew closer, the splashing sound grew louder. Their view of the
water was hidden by what looked like a wall of large, light blue
butterflies, hundreds and hundreds of them, fluttering up and down all
the way from the ground to a height taller than the tallest hunter.
The chief signaled to the hunters to creep behind some bushes so they
would not have to part the butterfly wall to see the river. As she came
noiselessly from behind the bushes, Nomusa was surprised and delighted
to see a mother elephant pushing her baby elephant into the water for a
bath. The baby did not want to go in, but the determined mother was
shoving it into the river with her trunk.
In the meantime, the father elephant, quite unconcerned, was giving
himself a shower bath by sucking up great quantities of water through
his trunk and then squirting it—_swooshh!_—over his back. Again and
again the huge bull elephant did this. He was having a wonderful time.
The corners of his mouth were pulled back, and his eyes were partly
closed as he sprayed the water over his massive head.
The cow elephant finally succeeded in pushing her baby into the water,
and she blew a shower of water over it. The little one tried to escape
by scrambling up the bank. Some of the hunters raised their spears,
prepared to hurl them as soon as their chief gave the sign.
But Zitu signaled the hunters not to throw their spears at the
elephants. Nomusa was surprised, and strangely happy, too. The chief
pointed to the elephant tusks and showed with his hands that they were
too small. Now Nomusa understood. They had not come to hunt elephants
just to kill them, but to obtain the largest tusks possible. She
remembered now that she had heard that white traders were very glad to
get large elephant tusks and that good exchanges were made for them.
[Illustration: [Elephants]]
The little elephant seemed very content to be in the water now, and he
splashed and spluttered as much as his father and mother. In a
mischievous moment, the baby sucked up a great trunkful of water and
blew it full in his father’s face. Astonished and irritated, the bull
elephant rushed at his disrespectful offspring. He pushed him into such
deep water that he lost his foothold.
Frightened, the little elephant lifted his short trunk into the air and
trumpeted frantically while he swam to shallower water. At last he
scrambled safely to shore. He had learned how to behave toward his
father.
The hunters moved on until they were far from the river scene. Then they
stopped to eat.
They rested for a while; then Zitu rose. “We must be on our way. We are
in the neighborhood of elephants, and I do not want to spend the night
in their midst without locating some with good tusks.”
After they had walked for some distance, Zitu stood still, listening.
The men stopped, waiting for their chief’s decision. In the dismal hush
different calls of forest birds could be heard, mingled with an
occasional howl from some animal. Then faintly there came to their ears
the sound of low rumblings and gurglings. Nomusa pointed urgently in the
direction from which the sound had come. Her father nodded, now smiling.
He had heard too, and so had all the others.
Very, very carefully they moved in the direction of the sound, weapons
ready. While they crept closer, stopping from time to time in order to
keep away from the wind side, Zabala’s arm suddenly waved up and down in
a frenzy as he saw something moving between two tall trees. A large ear
could be seen flapping slowly. Yo! They had come upon a herd of
elephants feeding. The hunters stood stock-still, their eyes wide with
excitement.
When Zitu decided which elephants they would attack, he pointed out to
each of his men what position to take. Nomusa wormed her way forward
after Zabala and Damasi. She peeped through the screen of leaves to see
the enormous creatures whose ears seemed to flap among the topmost
branches of the trees.
Eight elephants were in the clearing, three of them bulls, four cow
elephants, and one baby elephant, a very small one indeed. Nomusa drew
back stealthily and held up eight fingers to show her father how many
elephants she had seen. The hunters nodded their heads, well pleased
with the information.
Zitu crept forward and peered through the bushes. He had to find out
which elephants had the best tusks. Nomusa looked again when her father
did, and now she saw a sight that delighted her. The baby elephant was
under her mother, trying to suck some milk from her while the mother was
grazing. The mother elephant kept pushing the little one out from under
her, but her persistent baby would not stay away.
It amazed Nomusa to see the size of the bulls. They were huge, bigger
than anything she had ever seen. While they ate, their stomachs rumbled,
and they slobbered with their mouths and ground their teeth. None of the
beasts ever seemed to stand still. They were constantly moving and
shifting their feet, flapping their great ears.
[Illustration: [Elephants]]
Two of the bull elephants had especially large, heavy tusks. These were
the ones Zitu pointed out to his men. They got into positions from which
they could get a better view of the herd and a closer aim. Unless they
hit the elephants in exactly the right spot, they would not be able to
kill them. Nomusa knew that a wounded elephant is a ferocious beast.
These next few moments would be extremely dangerous ones. Her heart
began to pound so hard she was afraid the elephants would hear it.
The chief now made a quick sign. With all their strength and skill the
hunters hurled their sharp-pointed spears at the two bull elephants.
Nomusa’s bow twanged as she let her arrow fly, aiming for the vulnerable
spot under the elephant’s ear. Zabala and Damasi hurled their short
spears.
A great uproar set up among the elephants. Trumpeting and screaming,
their heads up and tails held out stiffly, they charged the bushes where
the hunters lay hidden.
Suddenly there was a great thud, and unexpectedly the herd turned in the
opposite direction and thundered off. After a moment the hunters crept
out of their hiding place to see what had happened.
One of the huge bull elephants lay on its side, a mountain of flesh
enclosed in a gray wrinkled skin. Nomusa and the others stared at the
enormous mass, hardly able to believe they had killed this giant.
“We were very lucky,” said Zitu. “I think I know what happened. As the
herd charged at us, this one fell dead in its path. That turned the
others.”
The chief rubbed his hand along the handsome tusks of the dead elephant.
“They are fine tusks.”
In the meantime Nomusa and Damasi had been looking at the path made by
the herd as they rushed off. Small trees had been uprooted and great
branches broken off others. Nomusa stared at the ground.
“Look!” she cried. “A trail of blood!”
“The other elephant must have been very badly wounded,” Zitu said,
crouching down to examine the tracks.
He stood up, looking at the sun. “It grows late,” he said, concern in
his voice. “But if we do not find the wounded bull today, we may never
do so.
“We must follow him now,” the chief decided; and he led the way.
[Illustration: [Huts]]