“You were good to come back for me,” murmured Nomusa.
“It was not I who thought of it first,” admitted Damasi. “While we were sitting at the stream your father suddenly missed you and asked me to go back and look for you. Let us go. I shall help you.”
When they came to the hunters, Damasi took Nomusa directly to her father. “Sit here,” Zitu said. “Damasi, bring water.”
Out of a pouch in his belt Zitu took some powdered herbs, which he mixed with water. It was a bitter drink, and Nomusa shuddered as she swallowed it.
“Now rest,” her father said gently.
As she drank more water Nomusa began to grow comfortably warm, and her cold sweat turned to warm perspiration. “Ah, that is well,” said her father as he felt her brow. “You will feel better now. I think you did not chew the elephant meat well enough. The first time I ate elephant meat I felt ill, too.” It comforted Nomusa to hear this.
Before long Nomusa felt quite strong again; she was ready to get up and go along. When Zitu saw this, he gave the signal to start.
“It is not very far from here where we left the first elephant,” he said.
Nomusa kept a sharp lookout, hoping to be the first to see it. But it was Zitu’s keen eyes that found the animal. The chief stopped, frowning.
“Hau!” he cried. “What is this?”