Before Nomusa reached the cattlefold, Mdingi came rushing to meet her. “You found her!” he cried in relief. “I have been worried about you!” There was much more that Mdingi wanted to say, but Nomusa knew what he felt.
“Go quickly,” she said gently. “Nyawuza needs milking.”
“I go,” Mdingi said.
Nomusa turned back to the other children, who were playing a spitting game. At a given signal, they passed their hands before their mouths, spitting on the palm as it passed. Then each child was given a chance to guess where the spit had hit the hand.
Nomusa watched for a few moments, but she was too tired to play. As she was about to enter her hut, she saw her father sitting outside the entrance gazing at the rising moon and smoking his oxhorn pipe. Without turning his head, he said quietly, “I am glad you found the cow, my daughter.”
Astonished, Nomusa said to herself, “By what magic does my father always manage to know everything that is happening in the kraal?”
Before unrolling her mat, Nomusa took some half-cooked pumpkin and some stewed meat from the pot. Drowsily she began to eat. Puleng came to help her, and together they finished the pumpkin and meat.
With one arm around her dog’s neck, Nomusa stretched out her tired legs and fell sound asleep.
