Nomusa went on pounding and rolling the corn. She grew tired and wiped off the moisture on her face with the back of her hand. She wondered how her mother managed to pound and pound for such long periods without stopping. As she rested a moment, she heard someone call, “Yo, Nomusa!”
She looked up and saw Sisiwe entering the kraal with a basket on her head. The green tops of vegetables showed above the top of the basket.
“Tired after the elephant hunt?” teased Sisiwe.
“I see you have been weeding your mother’s garden,” Nomusa remarked, ignoring the teasing.
“Yes,” said Sisiwe. “And now I have to fetch water again. I’ll never get ready in time for Damasi’s party. I haven’t even ground my paint yet. Have you?”
“No. I’ll go with you to fetch water. Perhaps we’ll find the right paint stones on the way.”
Nomusa went back to finish grinding the corn while Sisiwe carried the basket of beans and sweet potatoes to her hut.
Soon Sisiwe came out again, looking more cheerful. This time she was carrying an empty water jar and eating something. Nomusa picked up a jar lying next to the thatch of her hut and walked over to meet her half sister, who offered her a piece of melon. Side by side, one with the water jar on her left hip, the other with it on her right, the girls proceeded to the stream.
“Our father has come,” Nomusa said. “Ay, Sisiwe he is as you said. We saw the new belt of wildcat tails.”
“And did he speak of the elephant hunt?” asked Sisiwe.