“Not many boys your age can shoot a bird on the wing,” said Damasi admiringly. “Where did you practice shooting?”
“In my mother’s garden,” answered Nomusa.
Just then Mdingi appeared. “Let me shoot,” he said.
“Let us take turns shooting,” said Nomusa. “You first, Damasi. Then Mdingi, then I.”
Damasi let his arrows fly swiftly, one after the other. “Three out of five,” announced Nomusa, running to pick up the fallen arrows.
“Your turn, Mdingi,” said Damasi.
Taking careful aim, Mdingi shot his five arrows. “Four out of five!” he shouted.
Nomusa aimed and shot. “Three out of five, like me, Nomusa,” Damasi said.
By now the younger children had grown tired of being husbands and wives—especially the girls, since they had to do all the work for the boys. The smaller girls began to play with clay dolls, and the little boys ran outdoors to play horse.
Sisiwe came up to Nomusa. “What will everyone think of you, playing with boys, shooting at a mark,” she scolded. “You make us ridiculous with your tomboy ways! What good will it do you to know how to trap and shoot? You will never be allowed to go on a hunt. It is better for you to know how to be a good wife.”