Many, many years ago there lived a bride and bridegroom. Now among the Kafir people a newly-wedded pair always spend their first year with the bridegroom’s mother, for there are many important ceremonies to be completed before the bride can be given a home of her own.

So the bride and bridegroom lived in a little hut close to the hut of the old mother. Every day they all went out to hoe their land, on which they grew maize, sugar-cane, pumpkins, and calabashes. The calabashes are good to eat when they are green, and when they are ripe the skin becomes quite hard, and they make beautiful drinking-vessels. The mother worked at her patch, and the young people at a [59]separate one of their own. And every day before they started the young wife made beautiful food for her husband, and left it in the hut ready for his return from work, when he would be hungry. There was green mealie-porridge flavoured with the juice of sugar-cane, young calabash and spinach, all set out neatly in brown clay pots, and cool native beer in a big calabash. All was made ready for the evening, when they would return and her husband would be hungry. But the old mother saw the beautiful food and longed to have it. So when the young people were hard at work on their patch she took off her kilt of black ox-skins and hung it on the handle of her pick. Then she said to the pick, “Pick, go on working till I return.” This the pick obediently did, and thus whenever the son looked towards his mother’s patch some one appeared to be working there.

When all seemed in good order the old mother ran away back to her son’s hut, entered in and put on his beautiful kilt of jackal and cat-skins, and all his bead ornaments, which the bride had made for him. She took, too, his long staff carved at the head, such as no woman uses, and hung with tails of many animals. In this way [60]she deceived all who passed, and sat down to her meal, singing a gleeful little song to herself:—

Then she sat down and ate up everything. When she had finished she went back to her mealie-patch and hoed busily till it was time to go home. The bride was dreadfully disappointed when she found all the beautiful food gone which she had made for her husband, for she was anxious to show him how clever a cook she was, and so to win the praises of all his family.

So the next day she tried again, and did yet better. But in the evening the food had disappeared once more. This happened several days in succession. So at last the bride and bridegroom consulted together, for no one knew who the thief was.

“I have a plan,” said the bridegroom. “To-morrow morning you will make the food as usual, and we will start out together very early and say we are going to be out all day. Then in an hour or two I will come back secretly and watch by the hut. In that way I shall be sure to catch the thief.” [61]

So the next morning the bridegroom returned secretly and sat near his hut to see what would happen. He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw his own mother come running back from the field. When he saw her enter the hut, put on his dress, and begin to eat his food, his horror was such that he could hardly speak. He rose immediately, went into the hut, and accused her of being the thief.

“Alas, it is true,” moaned the old mother. “The food was good, and I was tempted. What can I do to be forgiven?”

“For this crime,” said the son, “you deserve to die, for you have sinned against nature. But I will not kill you. Only you must go far away from here and travel into strange countries, and you must never come back till you have found the water in which there are no frogs, no fishes, and no animals of any kind. When you have found it, fill this calabash with it and bring it back to me.”

So the mother took the calabash and set forth on her journey. She walked for many days over dry and barren country. At last she came to a beautiful clear pool. She went down to the edge of the water and struck it with her staff, crying [62]out, “I have been bidden by my son to find water in which there are no frogs, no fish, and no animals of any kind.”

Instantly she heard a loud croaking all round the pool, and hundreds of frogs came out to look at her. So then she knew that this was not the promised water. She took up her staff and calabash and journeyed on once more.

And after many more days she came to another pool. This was beautifully clear, and shone bright blue, like the sky itself. But directly she came to the edge and struck it with her staff, hundreds of little silver fishes put their heads out and told her this was not the pool she was seeking.

Then she was very sad, and thought she would never see home any more. But she took up her calabash and started again. And after many days of travel in a dry sandy country she came to a big forest. Here the trees were very tall, with big glossy green leaves, and underneath were thick bushes all covered with thorns. But the forest was full of little paths, which crossed and recrossed one another, and up and down them passed all kinds of animals. On one side of the forest lay a mountain, and towards this [63]she journeyed. After a long tramp through the bush she reached its foot. There at last she saw the most beautiful water. It fell in a cascade right down the mountain-side, and it glittered like the moon. Below it formed a pool clear as crystal, and when the old mother struck it with her staff there was no sound or ripple.

Then she knew she had reached her journey’s end. So she sat down to rest under a big tree close to the pool, and took snuff. Then she began to observe the animals who went and came busily by many paths. Presently they approached and sniffed at her, and at last they said, “Do you know where you are? This forest and this water belong to a great King. He allows no one even to set foot in it, and if he finds you here you will die.”

Then the old mother tried to rise and get away quickly. But she found she could not do it. While she had been sitting down the limbs of the tree had grown round her and held her fast. She knew then nothing could save her, and burst into tears.

In the meantime the animals consulted together as to what could be done for the old woman. The Lion, their King, was absent in [64]the depths of the forest, so the Elephant spoke first.

“We must choose wisely,” said he, “for she may help us all. Let the Giraffe protect her; his neck is so long that he can see through the trees easily.”

But the Giraffe refused, and suggested that the Tiger was better. He was so strong and his claws so sharp that no one under his care would be touched.

“That is quite true at night,” said the Tiger, “but in the day I sit with my eyes half-closed and see nothing. No! let the Rabbit be sent; his eyes are large and bright, and no one in all the forest is half so clever as he.”

The Rabbit consented, and went up to the old mother, saying, “Dear old mother, why are you crying?”

“I am crying,” she answered, “because I shall never see my home again. I stole my child’s food, and can never be forgiven till I have found water in which are no frogs, no fish, and no animals of any kind. Here I have found the water, but the tree has grown round me and I cannot move.”

“I will help you,” said the Rabbit. He set [65]to work at once with his pretty little teeth, and soon he had nibbled through the branches which grew round her, and she stood upright again. Then he filled her calabash from the pool and said, “Get out of the forest as fast as ever you can, before the King sees you, and go straight home. Do not stop to thank me; your escape will bring us great good fortune.”

The old mother took the water and hastened away. After many days she reached home, and gave the water to her son. At that very moment the forest behind her disappeared, and all the animals in it. Instead appeared a big, big town full of people. All the little paths became winding streets, and the trees became beautiful round huts, woven with great skill. The animals became men and women, who lived happily together in peace and plenty. Many years before a wicked enchanter had bewitched them, and they had been freed by the old mother who had carried the water to her son.

As for her, she was forgiven, and awarded every honour in her own home. [66]