“A snake!” gasped Nomusa.
But it was not a snake bite after all, but a cut made by something sharp, perhaps the very thing she could use to cut the vine. Nomusa bent down, feeling about cautiously for the sharp object that had cut her.
Ah! She had it—a stone with a knifelike edge, half embedded in the earth. Nomusa dug it out, with some difficulty, and ran to Nyawuza. She knelt in front of the cow and held her leg firmly with one hand while she chopped at the vine with the stone.
Nyawuza looked on with melancholy eyes. The task of cutting the liana was not easy, though the stone was sharp. The vine was tough and full of sap, and it did not break easily. But Nomusa worked and worked at one place until she had cut it through. Finally Nyawuza was free.
By this time Nomusa was so tired that she felt as if the kraal were a hundred miles away. “Come, good Nyawuza. We must hurry home. Our mother is waiting.”
On their dark journey homeward, Nomusa kept up a conversation with the cow to reassure her. Now and then Nomusa stumbled over rough ground and unexpected bumps. Sometimes she was not at all sure which was the right direction, and she grew frightened at the thought of being lost.
It seemed a very long time before Nomusa felt under her feet the familiar path leading to her kraal. Delighted to be so near home, she gave Nyawuza an affectionate and resounding slap on her rump.
The cow gave a sudden leap forward, and went galloping into the kraal, almost dashing against a group of Nomusa’s older brothers and sisters.
But Nomusa did not stop to speak to them, for she must find Mdingi at once. It was long past the cow’s milking time, and her udder was swollen.