EIGHTEEN: The Song Of Mdingi
As the hunters approached the kraal, those who had remained behind rushed out to meet them. The four huge ivory tusks were exclaimed over and admired.
“These are the finest tusks I have ever seen,” said an old man, touching them with his hand. “They will be worth much in exchange.”
Nomusa ran forward to greet her mother and to hug Themba joyously and dance him up and down.
“What stories I have to tell you, Themba! And here is a present for you,” Nomusa added, putting the large beetle the Pygmy woman had given her into his fat little hands.
Sisiwe squeezed through the crowds, carrying Dube on her shoulder. The little monkey looked frightened at the crowds of people and the noise. Had he forgotten her, Nomusa wondered? She greeted Sisiwe affectionately and then spoke to Dube.
At the sound of her voice, Dube was all aquiver. When he saw her he strained forward. With one leap he was in Nomusa’s arms, chattering “Tchirk? Tchirk?” as if to ask her why she had stayed away so long.
“He still loves you best,” Sisiwe said, a little sadly.
“But you may play with him as often as you want,” Nomusa said. “I shall not forget what good care you have taken of him, my sister.”
Nomusa soon realized that she was indeed at home, for she heard her mother calling from their hut. “Nomusa! Fetch water!”