Once, ever so many years ago, there lived a very pretty maiden whose name was Mulha, “the Fair One.” She dwelt with her father and mother and two little sisters in a lonely kraal among the mountains. They seldom saw any one, for the land around them was poor and very few cared to settle there. Indeed Mulha’s mother grew all her crops in a fertile valley some miles away, and was often obliged to be absent many days.

As spring approached every year she took her hoe, left the kraal in charge of Mulha, and went away to set the new corn. Now it happened once that the father was away on a hunting expedition when the time of sowing arrived, and not likely to be back for a long time. So the [225]mother had to leave all three children alone; but as Mulha was a big girl and would soon be grown up, she did not fear for their safety. She gave all three plenty of corn and many kinds of beans to cook for their daily food.

When she had finished providing for them, she called them to a big pot which lay on one side of the hut.

“Children,” she said, “never open this pot. You have plenty to eat and will need nothing. Promise me faithfully to obey. If you are good I will give you all a little feast when I return; we will kill a goat and make beer, and each of you shall ask your little friends.”

The children promised to be good and not to touch the pot. Then the mother bade them farewell and started on her journey. The girls were quite happy for a few days. They cooked their food and kept house, and the kraal had not looked so neat and tidy for a long time. Then they grew weary of being alone, and the two younger children said to their sister, “We are tired; our mother stays away too long.”

Mulha then got up and said, “Do you know what I am going to do?”

“No,” said they. [226]

“I am going to open the big pot.”

“Oh no, you mustn’t,” said the other two; “we all promised faithfully not to touch it.”

“I am going to see what is inside,” said Mulha with determination. She went straight to the pot and opened it, but instead of the store of food she expected to see out came a huge ogre, who instantly filled all the hut. There was no room left for any one else, and the little girls fled in terror. But the ogre called after them and spoke so nicely that they soon came back.

“I will do you no harm,” said he; “you two elder girls must go out to get water while I keep your youngest sister here to cook the food.”

But while they were away he killed the little girl, and put her into the big pot to be cooked for dinner. When the two sisters returned they found the pot already boiling, though they could see no fire.

“Come,” said the ogre, “and sit down. I have a nice little dish ready for you. Your sister has not returned yet.”

But just at that moment a huge bee came in at the door and buzzed all round their ears. Soon they distinguished words. “Do not eat [227]anything,” it said. “It is your own little sister who has been killed in your absence.”

So they answered that they were not hungry and sat still. After that Mulha made constant plans to escape with her sister, but the ogre always knew of them at once and followed her everywhere. Once they thought that they were quite safe and well away when the ogre suddenly appeared right in their path and said, “Where are you going to?”

“Oh,” said they, “we are not going far; we are going to play by the river a little while.”

They ran on a little farther, and though the ogre followed them suspiciously the younger sister managed to slip away through the bushes and swim down the river to the bottom of the valley. Thence she made her way to the fields in which her mother was at work. There she besought her to come and help Mulha, and rescue her from the horrible Inzimu.

But the mother shook her head. “You are punished,” said she, “for your disobedience. I can do nothing till the proper time comes; we must wait for your father.”

In the meantime the ogre kept Mulha alive, for he did not like to eat her, as Inzimus always [228]have a stock of provision in reserve, and do not use the last of the store. One day he left her in the hut while he went out to search for fresh prey. She took the opportunity to escape, and this time she was successful. She ran on and on by many winding paths, keeping always to the trees which followed the water-courses, till at last she had left her own valley behind and could run straight forward to her mother’s lands. There at last she found both her mother and sister, and very glad they were to see her.

She begged her mother to kill the ogre, but her mother only shook her head once more and said, “What can we do? Your father is not back yet.”

But while they were still talking, their father came in sight, to their great relief and joy. He was told the whole story of their troubles, and in great anger and indignation he seized his shield and assegai and started forth to find the monster and kill him.

The next day he returned with a sad face. “We cannot go home any more,” said he to his wife. “We must build a new hut here. I threw my assegais at the monster with all possible force and skill, but they simply fell powerless on the [229]ground. It is useless to think of revenging ourselves, the monster is a magician.”

At this news the mother called the two girls and told them the Inzimu was not dead, and it would no longer be safe for them to return home. As he would be sure to search, especially for Mulha, who had last escaped him, she had decided to send her right away.

“You shall go to your married sister. She is in a good position and will look after you, and presently, no doubt, some one will want you for his wife. But remember to go straight along the road, and on no account to touch the manumbela1 which grows by the way.”

Then Mulha put on all her prettiest beads and dressed herself in a length of black stuff gaily striped with green and blue, which she knotted round her waist. No girl in all Swaziland was prettier than she, or walked with a freer air. Her mother watched her go with pride, and had little doubt that she would soon marry a Chief’s son.

Now you would have expected Mulha to be [230]very careful and obedient after her last sad experience, and for a long time she travelled very soberly. But the afternoon was very hot, for it was full summer, and she gradually became very thirsty. There was no water near, and at a turn of the path she came in sight of beautiful manumbela covered with rich ripe berries. The manumbela is, you know, the Forbidden Fruit.

Mulha looked at it longingly, and at last she said, “Oh! I am going to eat it!” and climbed straight up the tree.

Directly she got up and picked a berry a deep bass voice called out of the trunk: “Dear good girl, give me some ripe fruit.”

The voice was so deep that the whole tree shook. Mulha gathered the fruit and came down in a fright. Immediately the tree opened and out came a big ogress, an Imbula, with an ugly snout like a wolf, and long red hair all over her body. The ogress took the fruit and said, “You are not safe travelling alone, a pretty girl like you. Give me all your things and I will give you mine, then no one will know you.”

Mulha gave her the striped cottons, but did not want to part with all her beautiful beads. [231]However, the Imbula insisted on having them, and promised to give all back when they approached the married sister’s kraal. She then gave Mulha her own skin to wear as a disguise. To her horror the poor girl found that the skin clung to her as tightly as if it grew on her. Nothing would remove it. The Imbula, without her horrid lumpy skin covered with red hair, looked like a pretty girl; her wolf’s snout had disappeared, and she had the whitest and most even teeth that ever were seen. It was she who was now Mulha, “the Fair One,” while the real beauty had become a loathsome monster.

Just outside the sister’s kraal Mulha tried to make the ogress give her back her dress and ornaments, but the monster absolutely refused. They soon came to the gate; the Imbula went right in, asked for her sister, and was welcomed by all and given great honour.

“What are we to do with your companion?” asked the married sister, with a glance of disgust at Mulha.

“Oh, just put her anywhere,” said the Imbula. “She can feed quite well with the dogs in some old hut.”

“Very well,” said the married sister. “She [232]can live with the old woman over there; no one will see her or be troubled by her.”

So the ogress passed as a beautiful Princess, and great attention was paid her. She looked exactly like a very pretty girl, but she had one great difficulty. All Imbulas have a tail, just like Inzimus, and this tail she could not get rid of. She coiled it round her waist and hid it under her girdle, but every day she feared discovery. However, no one dreamt of such a possibility, and for a long time all went well.

Meanwhile the real beauty lived in the hut with the old woman. She was deeply hurt at being treated thus by her own sister, but presently she discovered that her skin gave her magic powers, so she began to use them.

“Tell me,” she said to the old woman, “would you like to be made young again?”

“Yes, indeed,” said the old woman.

“Very well, you shall,” said Mulha. And the next morning every one was wondering what had happened to the old woman, for she once more looked like a girl. But Mulha bound her to silence, for she was far too indignant to let her sister have any hint of the truth. So the two lived together quietly but in much comfort, [233]for Mulha found that she was able to obtain excellent food for them both by a mere command, and they never touched the scraps which were thrown to them.

Now the real monster soon had ever so many lovers, for the fame of her beauty spread far and wide. At last she announced her engagement to a very wealthy and handsome Prince. Her behaviour, however, puzzled every one very much. She would never allow him so much as to kiss her, and declared that she was far too modest to allow him even to sit by her. The real beauty knew quite well why this was, but every one else thought it very strange.

Soon after the engagement was announced Mulha told the old woman that she was going down to bathe. The married sister heard of this. She said to herself, “I should much like to see this strange creature in the water,” and followed the supposed monster to the river.

There she saw a most wonderful sight. Directly the misshapen being touched the river her skin floated away, and she stood in the sparkling water, the most beautiful maiden that ever was seen. Then she stretched out her arms and sang: [234]

And at once beautiful girls came from all sides and played and laughed with her as their Princess. When Mulha had played long enough she got out of the water. The skin fitted on her again as tightly as ever, and she became a hateful beast once more.

The married sister went home certain that something was wrong, and consulted an aged Princess noted for her wisdom. The next time that the supposed monster bathed they went down to the river together and caught her just before she left the water. She soon told them she was the true Mulha, who had been overcome by an Imbula, but she did not wish to change her condition.

“Why do you bother me? I have everything I want and do not care to be troubled. You took the Imbula in as your sister; now you can keep her.”

“It is not right that men should be deceived by a monster,” said her sister. “I will speak to the King about it.”

The two women laid the whole story before [235]the King, who soon devised a method of settling which was the beauty and which the beast.

“Dig a big hole in the middle of the kraal, and place in it all kinds of food and plenty of fresh milk in a calabash. Then make every woman in the kraal walk round the hole alone, and we shall soon see who is the Imbula.”

All was done as the King commanded, and all the women in the kraal, young and old, walked round the hole. At last it came to the turn of the supposed Princess.

“There is no need for me to walk round the hole,” said she. “Every one knows that I am a pretty girl. Besides, I am far too shy to show myself off before everybody.”

She twisted and turned, and spoke in a tiny voice, just as she had done whenever the Prince approached her. But the King would have none of it, and commanded her to walk round the hole on pain of death.

So the Imbula was obliged to come, and started to walk round the hole. But at the sight of the milk all her instincts awoke, and she forgot everything. Her tail instantly uncoiled, and leapt down into the hole to suck up the [236]milk. No Inzimu, male or female, can control their tail when milk is on the ground. This the King had counted on when he laid the trap.

Directly the King saw that the real monster was discovered he sent his men to kill her. When all was over, Mulha came out to see the last of her rival. But she was now in her true form, and so radiantly beautiful that the Prince who had been deceived by the Imbula fell in love with her at once. The marriage was soon arranged. One hundred cows were paid to Mulha’s father at the wedding. He thus became a rich man, and so after many adventures all were made happy. [237]