“Greeting to you!” said the woman.
“Good-morrow!” answered my mother. “What do you seek?”
“Food, and a hut to sleep in,” said the woman. “I have travelled far.”
“How are you named?—and what is your people?” asked my mother.
“My name is Unandi: I am the wife of Senzangacona, of the Zulu tribe,” said the stranger.
Now there had been war between our people and the Zulu people, and Senzangacona had killed some of our warriors and taken many of our cattle. So, when my mother heard the speech of Unandi she sprang up in anger.
“You dare to come here and ask me for food and shelter, wife of a dog of a Zulu!” she cried; “begone, or I will call the girls to whip you out of our country.”
The woman, who was very handsome, waited till my mother had finished her angry words; then she looked up and spoke slowly, “There is a cow by you with milk dropping from its udder; will you not even give me and my boy a gourd of milk?” And she took a gourd from her bundle and held it towards us.
“I will not,” said my mother.
“We are thirsty with long travel; will you not, then, give us a cup of water? We have found none for many hours.”