Part 5

“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.

TWELVE: Off to the Hunt

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.

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.

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.”

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.”

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.

THIRTEEN: An Unexpected Feast

The following morning the direction the hunters took led them toward high land. The air was gray and a little misty. Out of the mist Nomusa heard a voice calling out to her. It was Damasi’s. His teeth flashed white as he smiled at Nomusa. They walked along side by side, saying little; the long climb made them both rather short of breath.

“It is a long way to the elephant country,” Nomusa said at last.

“Yes,” Damasi replied. “Some say five sleeps away, some say more.”

By noonday they were high up in the hills. Below them they saw the rolling, grassy plains. The hot rays of the sun were beginning to make the air before Nomusa’s eyes appear in crooked, glassy waves.

When the hunting party reached a waterfall that cascaded over boulders to the rocks and plains below, Zitu ordered a halt. Nomusa hoped it was so that they might eat. She was not used to going without food for such long periods. At home, when the children were hungry, they ate. There was always enough.

While Nomusa and Damasi and the other boys set to work finding dry twigs and branches with which to start a fire, the older hunters cooled their perspiring bodies under the waterfall. They laughed and enjoyed themselves immensely, shouting and splashing each other.

However, when they saw the fire well under way, the men quickly came out from under the waterfall. Taking their weapons they went to look for game.

Nomusa and Damasi and Zabala took their turn under the splashing water. Emerging cool and refreshed, they stood in the sun to dry their dripping bodies.

Nomusa was looking at the plain below when something caught her eye. It looked like a black ball and a brown ball moving horizontally across the skyline at great speed, apparently without touching the earth. They became bigger, blacker, and browner as they moved closer.

“Look, Damasi!” she cried. “What can that be?”

Damasi looked in the direction Nomusa pointed to, puzzled for a moment. Then he said: “I know! Ostriches! A male and a female. They must have been frightened by something. They are galloping so fast we cannot see their legs.” Damasi looked at Nomusa, laughing. “We might wish we could run as fast if some wild animal were chasing us.”

The barking of dogs heralded the return of the hunters. They had had good luck, and now everyone fell to cleaning and preparing the birds and animals for cooking. After the meal they slept. It seemed to Nomusa that she had barely lain down when there came urgent calls to get up and march on.

There was no time for an extra stretch or another wink. When her father said, “We go!” he meant it. The hunters had already extinguished the fire.

Toward evening they found themselves on a scrubby plain dotted with old thorn trees. Nomusa admired the reddened sky, flushed by the quick and beautiful sunset. The sunsets never failed to leave her astonished by the vivid coloring that faded swiftly into gray, then almost black. It was a marvel how quickly the sunset was over. Down went the sun into the mysterious horizon like a stone dropped in a pool.

The shadows became heavier and blacker. The hunters grew more watchful. This was the kind of country lions liked to roam.

Nomusa hoped her father would not decide to spend the night on this unpleasant-looking plain. She could not help feeling it was dangerous. But how much farther could they walk in the darkness? The dogs whined uneasily and drew close to their masters.

All at once the hunters who led the way stopped. There was a sudden hush, and the men held their weapons ready.

What was it that had stopped them? Nomusa looked up at her father questioningly, but he was too concerned with something under a large thorn tree to notice her. Zabala and Damasi, now boldly in front, were pointing at something very long and thick lying on the ground. It bulged in the middle, with two high knobs jutting under its flesh.

The object did not move. Whatever it was, it seemed to be dead. Now the hunters moved closer, step by step, holding back the excited dogs.

As they drew nearer, Nomusa saw that the object was a huge snake that had swallowed some small animal.

“The snake is dead,” announced her father. “Let us cut him open and see what he has swallowed.”

The snake was carefully cut open right around the part that bulged. There lay a young spotted deer, completely intact, that had apparently been swallowed not very long before. The two knobs under the snake’s skin were the deer’s budding horns.

Damasi came running over to Nomusa. “Do you see what has happened?” he asked excitedly. “The snake must have swallowed the young deer and then lain quietly down to digest it. When he fell asleep the horns of the deer ripped through his flesh and killed him. What a feast we shall have tonight!”

And what a fine story this is going to make for Themba, thought Nomusa.

“I have not tasted deer meat for a long time,” said Damasi, smacking his lips.

“It is a pity that I am not as hungry now as I was at noonday,” Nomusa sighed.

Zitu ordered an extra large fire to be made. Not far from the dead snake the hunters roasted the deer, pleased over their good luck in finding such a magnificent supper with so little effort. They gorged themselves with food as if they had not eaten for days, and even Nomusa could not resist the delicious smells of the roasting deer meat.

Sentinels were now appointed to watch over them while they slept, and a large crackling fire was kept burning to ward off any wild animals and to warm the hunters when the night grew cold. Nomusa did not enjoy having to sleep on this plain, especially as the dead snake was near enough to attract jackals or hyenas to their neighborhood.

She stared into the leaping flames, determined not to fall asleep. She would be a self-appointed sentinel tonight. Two would not be too many. But the warmth of the fire and her overburdened stomach conquered her determination to stay awake. Nomusa slept peacefully until sunrise the next morning.

FOURTEEN: Elephant Country

“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.