Part 6

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.”

[Illustration: [Children]]

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.

[Illustration: [Children]]

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.

[Illustration: [Huts]]

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.

[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]]

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!