Adventure Magazine Cover — page 187: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Camp-Fire I went over to where the bearded man sat eating; having reached him, he looked me over closely, felt my ankles, my chest and looked under my arm-pits for the much detested Jsi cawu se gosha (sheep- spider) that makes its home under the arm-pits of young boy cowherders. Having made these examin- ations and found no sheep-spiders, he laughed ‘‘Ho, “ho” again and asked me did I like meat. I answered eagerly yes. He put his hand into the dish in front of him and fished around in it a second or two and brought out a piece of nice, oozy, dripping black goat’s-tripe. Let me say to you that a goat’s-tripe is black and not white like a cow’s. I cupped my two hands and said ‘“‘Msutw” as he placed it there. I was commanded to sit down and obeyed, and ate the hot black tripe. So far off as it is now, to my childish mind and palate it tasted good. The voices of the men rumbled in different tones of discussion and argument. Expectant of some more meat, I waited patiently but was forgotten. The day had been long and the cattle rather troublesome on the homeward trip, which meant to say that I and the other boys tending them had almost run our little legs off. I was very tired and fell asleep, the rum- bling voices being the lullaby that I went to the land of dreams in. “Vukal Vukal” were the next words that I heard coming from that booming voice that I had heard some time. I sleepily sat up, and drowsily looked around me. It was rather dark, yet there seemed to be a sort of a haze about; a girl was blowing the fire to a small blaze, the white ashes hurling around and above her every time she blew a breath. The sticks became aflame in a feeble way; she stopped blowing, yet remained in her kneeling position. The flying ashes settled gently on her head, making her look very old and wise. The bearded-one spoke to me, ‘We are going to see thy mother. We go far, far away. You will have to sleep in places where the lions and snakes play about and the w Aili lives. Are you a man enough to go with me or just a very small boy who wants to stay here?”’ Knowing what was expected of me, I told him I wanted to go, though the small boy wanted to stay very badiy.. “All right (Lungile),” said he; “Go and get you intonga and impahla and bring them here.” I darted out of the hut and ran to the nlwenkwes ngugwala and, treading on my comrades’ noses and mouths and bodies, I gathered up my treasured sticks, five of them, a fur bag made of a wildcat, 7 ngada, two nciyas. I blundered around on my way to the door, but tripped against some one’s arm and fell heavily on top of him. He woke up with a yell of pain. The next instant two boys were fighting each other in the semi-darkness of a hut. A booming voice from the door demanded “Yi nxionz? Vi notini?” and the fight stopped instantly. I groped around for my belongings, found them, and made my way to the door and there the bearded man was still waiting. T was still dark outside, but there was a blue haze hanging over the earth. The air was intensely cold and the ground unbearable; so, with a “Masz hambe,” the bearded-one strode off at a moving stride with me tagging behind, past huts that were dark except where some one was blowing the embers of the night before to a blaze. There was no one to bid us good-by. My feet tingled at the pace set. Up a gina we went, down into a small clump of trees, where the air was very damp and sharp so one a unable to breathe. With a suddenness 177 that was startling the sun blazed o’er the eastern horizon. The heavy dew on the “man high” grass began to shake time and time again. The bearded- one and I were drenched through. The sun went higher and higher and it became so hot that the bearded-one sought out some large rocks under whose shade we sat and ate some isz kaff. He propped himself against the rock and, with a nod or two, was soon fast asleep. I watched the sheep- cleaver birds wheel overhead with their constant cry of ‘“‘Kouliee, Kouliee,” got tired of that and be- gan to speculate how far it was to the sky and what it was made of and at that point fell asleep. :\ booming voice whispered in my ear “Vukal Vuka mfanl”’ 1 litted my head suddenly and collided with the mouth and teeth of the bearded-one. The whiskers tickled my ears. He laughed ‘‘Ha, ha! you want to break my teeth?” I smiled and rubbed my ear. It was getting dark; the bearded-one handed me some dried meat and I ate it with relish, for I was hungry. Having finished my piece of meat, the bearded-one gathered up his belongings and I did the same, and in the twilight we began our journey. HE dark swooped down for a short time, and soon the stars came out, many and many of them. They lit up the small path that we were following. The air was filled with terrible noises, the waa-whooa of the owl, the nya nya nyal of some hyenas, the terrible screams of monkeys as they were awakened possibly by a snake looking for its — supper or a leopard making a meal off one of them. On we went, these sounds all around us. I must say that the very small boy wished he had stayed at the: Kraal, and he did walk very closely to the heels of the bearded-one. More than once the bearded-one asked me kindly to keep off his feet, but a sudden noise nearby made me walk on his heels again and again. The stars twinkled above and numbers of them twisted and turned in every direction imagin- able. My legs became numb. Down by a Donga we went, and there the bearded-one stopped and knelt down and took a long drink. I imitated him the best way I could. After quenching our thirst we climbed the bank. He told me to stand still while he walked about in a circle two or three times, widening it every time. He reached his starting-point. This was in order to see if there were any snakes about there. He seemed satisfied that there were not any, came back to where I was standing and told me to go to sleep. I sank down to the ground gratefully and in three breaths was in the land of sleep. HARLY the next morning before the sun was up * we started on our journey and repeated what had been done the day before, and did this for four days and nights. At the end of the fourth day my father informed me that we would sleép in the same hut as my mother, if I was a man and not a small boy. I stoutly maintained that I was a man, and so we kept on our way. The sun set for the fifth time, and the road or path became very stony. In my eagerness I found this out, for I had asked to be put infront. I kicked against set stones in the path that T could not see, sometimes loose ones that shot away with a rattle and a ping! I manfully stifled my whimpers and kept my eyes on the path and lifted my feet high, trying to save them from further pain. The path went on its tortuous way and suddenly ended in a broad way—a wagon road. I sighed inwardly. A high hill hid anything further and we cCoOmiclbook \@) S co iin