“Hateful monkeys!” cried all the ngozos.
“See how dilapidated some of us look,” said one of the late comers; and one of the flock, turning her back, cried, “Look at me. I am almost without a tail. An ugly monkey plucked it off. It was hard for me to fly and reach our meeting-place, for having hardly any tail I flew with difficulty.”
“Look at me,” said a second one, as he also turned his back to the ngozos. “My feathers are all gone between my wings. I wonder how I escaped from that savage monkey.”
All the ngozos listened silently when they heard this tale of woe.
A third one said, “Look at me, ngozos. See the state of my poor feathers and how many have been plucked by one of those monkeys. But I succeeded in giving him a bite and cut off one of his fingers, and he had to let me go. He gave such a cry of pain.”
“Good for you!” shouted all the parrots; “good for you, ngozos!”
“How did the fight happen?” asked one of the wise ones who had been listening. “Tell us.”
Then the chief of the flock said: “Our flock was on a tree feasting on delicious fruits, when suddenly we heard a troop of monkeys coming. Soon they leaped on our tree and wanted to drive us away, and attacked us. We tried to resist, but the monkeys are so quick of motion, and they have hands and feet that can clutch, while we ngozos can only bite. The combat was unequal. One of our number was killed by them. The reason that we are so late is that we had to fly slowly on account of our disabled ones. We did not want to leave them behind, for we are all good comrades and we love one another dearly.”
“That was right. You are true ngozos,” cried they all.