Chapter III: Part 3

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.

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.

]

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.

]

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.

]

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.

]

FIFTEEN: A Wounded Bull

The trail of blood was easy to follow at first, but it was not very long before Nomusa understood why Zitu was worried. The sun was sinking deeper and deeper, and Nomusa remembered how quickly darkness came after sunset.

From time to time they came to large patches of flattened grass where the wounded elephant had fallen, to rise again and move on.

The hunters kept their eyes on the ground, and their ears were keenly alert to all the sounds about them. They knew how dangerous a wounded bull elephant could be, and other fierce animals might be prowling.

It became more and more difficult to see the trail of the animal, and Nomusa began to fear night would fall before they found him.

Then Sihkulumi, one of the hunters in the lead, stopped dead in his tracks, pointing.

“Hau!” he said. “There he is!”

Ahead of them they saw the wounded elephant lying against a tree that seemed to bend with his huge weight.

“He is dead!” Sihkulumi cried, and he rushed forward. Zitu spoke a restraining word; then he raced after Sihkulumi.

Even as the hunter reached him, the elephant heaved his huge bulk upright. His trunk shot out, enveloping Sihkulumi. He would surely be killed, crushed to death by the powerful trunk.

Nomusa saw her father, fearfully close to the elephant, taking sure aim. Then his bow twanged, and the arrow sped to the elephant’s brain.

The beast dropped dead, and Sihkulumi’s body fell to the ground. Zitu was beside him in a moment. Soon Sihkulumi sat up, not hurt, only shaken and frightened. But he could not look at the chief, and when he spoke his voice was full of shame.

“I was not worth risking your life for,” he said. “If I had remembered to wait for your orders, there would have been no danger.”

Zitu helped him to his feet. “I am thankful that you are alive,” he said simply. “I believe you will never be foolish again.”

He turned to the others. “We shall stay here tonight. We shall need a very large fire to frighten away animals.”

Nomusa went about gathering wood with the others, but she could not forget the sight of Zitu as he faced the elephant. This was a story that would be told about the evening fires for many moons.

The hunters cut off great chunks of elephant meat to roast over the fire. What a feast they had! Nomusa was surprised to discover how good the meat tasted. But it was very tough to chew. When everyone had eaten as much as he wanted, Zitu chose the first sentry for the night, and all lay down to sleep.

What animals howled or roared through the night, only the sentinels knew. Nomusa and the other weary hunters were awakened at dawn the next morning, greeted by the smell of roasting elephant meat.

In the morning the men started the difficult task of cutting the huge tusks out of the elephant’s jaw. It took hours and hours. But at last they were out and lying side by side on the ground, where everyone admired their size and beauty. Then Zitu appointed two men to carry each tusk. “Everyone take turns,” the chief said.

As they marched, Nomusa began to feel very tired and thirsty. Her head ached and throbbed, and although the day was not hot, she felt as if she were burning. And how unbearably thirsty she was!

Insect bites and sores on her body which she had received along the way, and to which she had paid little attention, now seemed very troublesome. Still, she was determined that she would not make Zitu regret taking her on this hunt. Not a word would she say about being thirsty and tired. But she had lost interest in elephants and in anything that was to be seen along the trail. Her only thought was of her longing for water and a place to lie down. How she wished she were with her mother. Makanya would be sure to know what to do to make her feel better.

Finally Nomusa could go no farther. She would have to stop no matter what happened. The others could go on without her.

Nomusa lay down on a grassy slope, hidden by the long grass. She closed her eyes. The hunters filed past without knowing she was lying there. How long she lay there Nomusa did not know. She must have fallen asleep.

She lay like a stone on the earth; then she became dimly aware of someone bending over her and saying, “Are you sick, Nomusa?” The voice sounded far away.

Nomusa opened her eyes. “Oh, Damasi,” she said weakly, “I am very tired, and so thirsty.”

“We have come to a little stream, not far from here, where we are all bathing and resting. Come,” he urged.

“You were good to come back for me,” murmured Nomusa.

“It was not I who thought of it first,” admitted Damasi. “While we were sitting at the stream your father suddenly missed you and asked me to go back and look for you. Let us go. I shall help you.”

When they came to the hunters, Damasi took Nomusa directly to her father. “Sit here,” Zitu said. “Damasi, bring water.”

Out of a pouch in his belt Zitu took some powdered herbs, which he mixed with water. It was a bitter drink, and Nomusa shuddered as she swallowed it.

“Now rest,” her father said gently.

As she drank more water Nomusa began to grow comfortably warm, and her cold sweat turned to warm perspiration. “Ah, that is well,” said her father as he felt her brow. “You will feel better now. I think you did not chew the elephant meat well enough. The first time I ate elephant meat I felt ill, too.” It comforted Nomusa to hear this.

Before long Nomusa felt quite strong again; she was ready to get up and go along. When Zitu saw this, he gave the signal to start.

“It is not very far from here where we left the first elephant,” he said.

Nomusa kept a sharp lookout, hoping to be the first to see it. But it was Zitu’s keen eyes that found the animal. The chief stopped, frowning.

“_Hau!_” he cried. “What is this?”

]

There, swarming over the elephant like black ants, were many tiny dark people. Who were they and what were they doing on her father’s elephant? Nomusa wondered. There would certainly be trouble now. Nomusa saw the faces of her father and the other hunters fill with anger. Chief Zitu shouted, “We killed this elephant! It belongs to us!”

The small people answered in a storm of words none of the Zulus understood. Threateningly they picked up their toylike bows and arrows. The Zulu hunters raised their spears, ready to use them at a word from their chief. Nomusa was excited and afraid too. There would surely be a terrible fight.

But Zitu spoke to them again, in a quieter tone. He made signs with his hands, saying that he and his men must have the tusks, but the little people could have the rest of the elephant. At last they understood, and they laid down their weapons, to the great relief of all. The Zulus, too, dropped their weapons on the ground and slowly approached the dead elephant.

The small people began cutting open the huge animal. As Nomusa watched, she saw how carefully they pulled out the eyelashes and the long hairs from the elephant’s ears. They seemed to treasure these especially. Some of them were cutting off chunks of elephant meat and eating it raw. How sick they will be! thought Nomusa.

Full of curiosity about these small people, Nomusa drew near her father and asked, “My father, who are these strange people? They do not seem at all like us.”

“They are Pygmies, who live in the forest here,” Zitu replied. “Only once before have I ever met any, and that was when we had gone on a hunt ten sleeps away. These Pygmies have wandered a long distance from their home, far to the north.”

Nomusa kept her eyes fixed on the fascinating little people. She noticed that the tallest among them was just a little taller than she was. They were lighter in color than the Zulus, and much hairier.

While the hunters were hacking out the elephant’s tusks, Nomusa stayed close to the Pygmies so she could learn as much as possible about them. They wore nothing but a small flap of eland skin below their fat bellies and had no ornaments of any kind. To Nomusa they looked very drab and bare without beads or bracelets. Their arms seemed too long for their bodies; their legs were short; their feet were very large. But their toes were the most remarkable of all. They were so long that they looked more like fingers than toes. How wonderful they must be for climbing trees! thought Nomusa.

The Pygmies moved quickly and seemed to have a natural cleverness in doing things. Nomusa felt much attracted to the little people when she saw how merry and playful they were, how helpful and kind to each other.

Some of them had made a fire and were smoking large chunks of elephant meat on pointed sticks. Others crawled inside the elephant and cut out the heart and liver, handing them to others on the outside.

After a while Nomusa noticed that from time to time a few Pygmies would disappear into the forest, carrying smoked meat on long sticks. She wondered where they went. Perhaps her father would let her follow them.

But this was no time to ask for a favor. Zitu was busy, and he did not like working with so many Pygmies swarming about him. They got in his way so that it was difficult to move without bumping into one of them. The little people were as curious about the Zulus as Nomusa was about the Pygmies.

When she saw her father looking more cheerful, Nomusa went to him and said, “My father, I am very curious about these small people and how they live. May I follow one of them when he goes into the forest?”

Zitu was silent for a moment, and Nomusa thought he was angry at her foolish request. But he only turned his head and called: “Sikhulumi! Come!”

Sikhulumi came quickly, and Zitu said: “My daughter wants to see where the Pygmies live. Go with her and look after her. You know a little of their language.”

Sikhulumi nodded gravely. The tall hunter was pleased and proud that the chief entrusted him with such an errand, especially after his recklessness of the day before.

Zitu added, smiling: “Nomusa seems very much interested in these little people. Perhaps you can find her a husband among them.”

Sikhulumi laughed, and Nomusa made a face.

As one of the Pygmies started off with a load, Zitu tapped his shoulder. Smiling, he pointed to Nomusa. The Pygmy grinned, looking at Nomusa with great interest; but they could see he did not understand what was meant. Sikhulumi said a few words in the Pygmy language. The Pygmy finally smiled and nodded his head. He would guide them to the place where his people lived.

]

]

SIXTEEN: The Pygmy Settlement

Nomusa and Sikhulumi followed the little man through the dense forest. He walked swiftly and quietly, half running through bushes and under low branches. There was no path, and Nomusa and Sikhulumi had to move quickly to keep the Pygmy in sight. If they lost him, they might not easily find their way back to the hunters, much less find the Pygmy settlement.

Now and then the Pygmy turned to see if they were still following. Sometimes he slowed down to allow them to catch up with him. He was much stronger than he looked. Although he carried a heavy load of meat, he did not stop to rest even once.

At last they came to the Pygmy settlement. When the other Pygmies saw Nomusa and Sikhulumi, they stopped, looking startled. Nomusa’s Pygmy companion said something to them, pointing to the visitors. Then the Pygmies came forward and helped carry the smoked meat to one of their little houses.

Nomusa saw that these huts were made of bent branches tied together with vines. Leaves were laid over the branches to keep out the sun and rain. The huts were small and not carefully made. Perhaps the Pygmies did not bother to make a better hut because they did not stay in one place very long. The Zulu huts were much larger and stronger, for they stayed in the same place for years and years.

Sikhulumi explained to Nomusa that the Pygmies lived only on what wild animals they could catch and on roots and berries found growing in the forest. The Zulus owned cattle, and they planted their own gardens with a wide variety of vegetables and fruits. They did not have to wander from place to place in search of food like the Pygmies.

Their Pygmy guide now invited them to come and see the inside of a hut. Sikhulumi decided he was too big to enter, but he urged Nomusa to go in. When she crawled in through the low opening, she saw a woman, smaller than herself, carrying a baby astride her hip. The woman was cooking something in a black pot over a fire. From time to time she left the hut, returning quickly with caterpillars or winged ants, snails or lizards. All these she threw into the pot. Once a small boy, little more than half the size of Themba, came in with a bush rat to put into the pot.

Nomusa observed that these people did not sleep on mats, but on dried skins of animals, or on leaves. The hut was empty, except for a few gourds. How different were the Zulu huts, thought Nomusa. Since her people stayed a long time in one place, it did not matter how many things they collected and kept in their huts. To people like the Pygmies, who moved often, it was important not to have many things to carry.

When Nomusa came out of the hut, she found Sikhulumi talking to a Pygmy who knew something of the Zulu language. He was asking Sikhulumi if he had any salt.

Sikhulumi shook his head regretfully. “If we come next year, we will surely bring some,” he promised.

The Pygmy seemed delighted with Nomusa. He asked her, “Are you married?”

]

Nomusa giggled. “No, I am only ten years old.”

The man looked surprised. He came close to Nomusa and measured himself against her. He was only a tiny bit taller than she was. As he stood there Nomusa looked with interest at a necklace he wore. As she looked, she realized what it was. Now she knew why the Pygmies saved the elephant’s eyelashes.

The Pygmy saw her interest in the elephant-hair necklace and quickly took it off and offered it to her. “Bring good luck,” he said.

Nomusa looked at Sikhulumi.

“Take it,” he advised. “You will have something very unusual to show your brothers and sisters.”

Sikhulumi turned to the Pygmy. “How do your people kill elephants?”

“Come,” said the little man. “I will show you.”

The Pygmy brought out bows and arrows as well as slender spears so small that Nomusa thought little Themba would have been able to use them.

Nomusa saw that the tiny arrows were made of straight twigs of hardwood cut from a bush. The ends of the arrows were slit and a green leaf was stuck in each, instead of a feather such as the Zulus used.

The man pointed to the tips of the arrows and spears, saying, “Poison!”

“Where do you get the poison?” Nomusa asked.

The Pygmy explained. His people searched for poisonous herbs as well as for poisonous barks of trees. They also got poison from a certain black ant whose bite was terribly painful.

With many gestures, the Pygmy explained how they climbed trees under which they expected elephants to pass on their way to feeding grounds. The men in the trees threw down their poisoned spears on the passing elephants, while Pygmies on the ground shot poisoned arrows at the animals.

If the elephant did not die at once, the Pygmies knew that some of the poison would finally work inside the animal’s body and kill him. They would follow him until he dropped. Usually, he assured them, they did not have long to wait.

Nomusa was still full of curiosity. “Do the boys take care of the cattle as my brothers do?”

The Pygmy looked surprised. “We have no cattle,” he said. “We live by hunting.”

“How long have you been living here?”

“Two moons. Soon we leave. More fruit, berries, tortoises, and monkeys in new place.”

Nomusa suddenly remembered Dube. “You like monkeys?” she asked hopefully.

“Ay, very good to eat!”

It was time to go. Many of the small people came to look at the visitors curiously. Nomusa noticed that, like the men, the women wore no ornaments, beads, or bracelets.

Nomusa had a final question for the Pygmy. “How many wives do Pygmy men have?”

He looked shocked, then amused. “How many? One, of course.”

Now Nomusa really felt sorry for these people. She realized how very poor the Pygmies were, for among the Zulus it was only a poor man who had but one wife.

Their guide was ready to take them back to their camp. The Pygmies waved a friendly farewell to their visitors. One woman gave Nomusa a present—a huge dried beetle, the largest Nomusa had ever seen.

With no load to carry, the Pygmy guide sped through the forest so quickly that Nomusa and Sikhulumi had to run to keep up with him. He no longer bothered to look back to see if they were following. Perhaps he thought that anyone who had been over the ground once would surely know it again.

It was close to sundown, and when the long purple shadows of the trees fell across the ground, it became increasingly difficult to see the Pygmy.

At last what they feared had happened. Sikhulumi stopped, completely confused. Nomusa needed no word from him to tell her they were lost. The Pygmy was nowhere to be seen, and they did not know which path to take. Sihkulumi looked very anxious. Then they heard a whistle.

“It is he!” cried Nomusa. “But where?”

Where, indeed? Sihkulumi looked all about him. Then the whistle sounded again, and Sihkulumi’s dark face broke into a grin. He raised his eyes to the high branches of a tree. There was the Pygmy, his small body barely discernible among the green leaves.

Down he scampered, agile as a monkey. In his hand was a big piece of honeycomb, some of which he gave to Nomusa and Sihkulumi. They walked along more slowly now, and together, eating the delicious honey. But Nomusa kept a watchful eye on the Pygmy. Perhaps he might decide to play another joke on them.

But they soon reached the others, without any difficulty. The Pygmies were still smoking elephant meat, but the Zulu hunters had finished their work. They squatted about the huge fire, resting and eating. Nomusa and Sihkulumi were glad to dip their fingers into the food pot, too.

As they ate and rested, Zitu spoke.

“We can be thankful that we have had a safe and successful hunt. Tomorrow at sunrise we set out for our kraals. Let everyone remember to take care along the way so that we shall have no mishap.”

Growing drowsy by the fire, Nomusa thought of all the wonderful stories she had to tell Themba. And Mdingi would be sure to make good songs about many of the things Nomusa would tell him. Yo! She was every bit as eager to get home as she had been to leave!

Everyone was getting ready to sleep, and a sentinel had been appointed. Nomusa looked over at the Pygmies to see what they were doing. The night had grown chilly, and the little men were beating their bodies with their hands and huddling close to the fire. Nomusa saw some Pygmies crawl inside the elephant. She expected them to come right out again. But they did not, and after a bit Nomusa went over to see why they stayed so long.

Inside the elephant the Pygmies lay, one next to the other, fast asleep.

]

SEVENTEEN: The Leopard in the Pit

On the homeward trip Nomusa kept watching for interesting birds and animals. She could never have too many stories to tell Themba and Umpondo and the other little brothers and sisters.

When they were about a day’s journey from the kraals, the party rested on a flat-topped hill. Looking down on the valley, Nomusa beheld a wonderful sight. A number of lions, lionesses, and cubs lay among the tall grasses. The older animals seemed to be drowsing in the sun, but the cubs refused to stay quiet. Like kittens they played together, tumbling about, nipping each other’s ears and tails.