Adventure Magazine Cover — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

42 they are able to withstand the heat of the earth far better than any walking shoe made, for having gone barefoot ever since she could toddle along, her soles by constant usage have become so hard and horny that only green and half-dried thorns are able to penetrate this wonderful formation that nature has provided her with, in common with the other natives. The mother swings along over the veld, down by emtengen, thence by a kloof follow- ing the dried-up course of the river until she reaches the zdinga where she leaves the kalabaas and goes in search of ist spingo and some ingwenye (a kind of wild plum) and other tropical wild fruits that are to be found abundantly in the forests and the jungles. But she goes more to enjoy the cool shade of the wonderful trees. In an hour or so she comes back to the tdinga, fills her kalabaas with water; and though it is a large one and filled to the brim, she lifts it up with ease and grace, places it on her head without spilling a drop, this being one of the household ‘‘duties” that she was taught in her girlhood. She starts for home to prepare the daily meal for her lord and master. She enters the gate even as the sun is going down; the glorious rays die one by one. The air re- sounds to the trot, trot, trot of cattle, sheep and goats as they are driven into the space called sibayi which is in the center of the village. The mongrel dogs set up a great yelping and howling. Into a certain hut a stalwart form enters and turns to the side of the males. He sits down on his haunches and some nkobe is served to him. He eats in silence, his first wife watching him all the while. Hav- ing finished, he demands to see the babe. None of his wives dare speak or utter a single word unless they ask permission or are spoken to first by the head of the house. The mother timidly yet proudly unbinds the child from astraddle her hips, where it has been sleeping peacefully. The child awakes to find a pair of eyes regarding it intently. In irritation at being awakened, it doubles its fists and pokes them into its eyes, trying to rub the sleep and smoke out of them. The stalwart one speaks— “Di funga umaa mgum mzungo.” The mother’s face beams, because here for the first time in nyanga ezt nezt her lord and master was pleased. Adventure And so she and the other wife eat their meal and having finished put away the few meager wooden vessels. The rush mat is laid out for the stalwart one; his hide robe that he covers himself with is brought: to him; a live coal is fished out of the fire for him, and put in his pipe. The burning sticks are taken out of the fire and put out, leaving the red-hot heart to burn, and even that gets dimmer and dimmer. The heavy breathing of persons asleep is heard, but above this sounds the hungry, noisy suckling of a babe, and in the dying light of the fire, the mother smiles, because, though the day has been hard and long, still the stalwart one had said— “Mzungo.” 3 And that was wonderful, and made it a perfect day. Ill WHEN the infant was about a month old, two very important things happened to it. One was that it was given a name, and that it was marked with the tribal mark. Again-let it be said that the giving of a name among the natives to a child is a far different thing from what is done in civiliza- tion, for whereas the doting parents-in- law and other relations scramble all over themselves in order to palaver over the new-born child in civilization, the child and only the child decides and determines what its name shall be among the natives. How is this done by a mere infant? Simply thus: for the first few weeks after birth his or her actions are observed closely, and the most preponderating action or characteristic begets the child its name. In the case of the babe under consideration, it had been given the name of Upina, which in translation means, ‘“‘Where is he?”’ This was because the little one when taken off his mother’s back would at once quietly crawl away on his hands and knees. His mother with a start would glance about the dim hut, then frantically rush outside and question the first person met— “Upina um mitwana wam? mbonae”’ The answer invariably would be negative. She would search in the near vicinity and return in anguish to her hut. A chuckle in the dim recess of the hut would catch her hearing and upon investigation she would Kwam Coin Clooolkks co iin