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crime and punishment: primary source documents 273 Africa • The Xosa Tale of Nyengebule (undated) • So it was with Nyengebule He had two wives, who, one day, went out together to collect firewood in the forest The younger found a bees’ nest in a hollow tree, and called her companion to help her take out the honeycomb When they had done so they sat down and ate it, the younger thoughtlessly finishing her share, while the elder kept putting some aside, which she wrapped up in leaves to take home for her husband Arriving at the kraal, each went to her own hut The elder, on entering, found her husband seated there, and gave him the honeycomb Nyengebule thanked her for the attention, and ate the honey, thinking all the time that Nqandamate, the younger wife, who was his favourite, would also have brought him some, especially as he was just then staying in her hut When he had finished eating he hastened thither and sat down, expecting that she would presently produce the tidbit But he waited in vain, and at last, becoming impatient, he asked, “Where is the honey?” She said, “I have not brought any.” Thereupon he lost his temper and struck her with his stick, again and again The little bunch of feathers which she was wearing on her head (as a sign that she was training for initiation as a doctor) fell to the ground; he struck once more in his rage; she fell, and he found that she was dead He made haste to bury her, and then he gathered up his sticks and set out for her parents’ kraal, to report the death and demand his lobolo-cattle back But the little plume which had fallen from her head when he struck her turned into a bird and flew after him When he had gone some distance he noticed a bird sitting on a bush by the wayside, and heard it singing these words “I am the little plume of the diligent wood-gatherer, The wife of Nyengebule I am the one who was killed by the house-owner, wantonly! He asking me for morsels of honeycomb.” It kept up with him, flying alongside the path, till at last he threw a stick at it It paid no attention, but kept on as before, so he hit it with his knobkerrie, killed it, threw it away, and walked on But after a while it came back again and repeated its song Blind with rage, he again threw a stick at it, killed it, stopped to bury it, and went on his way As he was still going on it came up again and sang: “I am the little plume of the diligent woodgatherer ” At that he became quite desperate, and said, “What shall I with this bird, which keeps on tormenting me about a matter I don’t want to hear about? I will kill it now, once for all, and put it into my bag to take with me.” Once more he threw his stick at the little bird and killed it, picked it up, and put it into his inxowa He tied the bag up tightly with a thong of hide, and thought he had now completely disposed of his enemy So he went on till he came to the kraal of his wife’s relations, where he found a dance going on He became so excited that he forgot the business about which he had come, and hurried in to join in the fun He had just greeted his sisters-in-law when one of them asked him for snuff He told her—being in a hurry to begin dancing and entirely forgetful of what the bag contained—to untie the inxowa, which he had laid aside She did so, and out flew the bird dri-i-i! It flew up to the gate-post, and, perching there, began to sing He heard it, and, seeing that every one else had also heard it, started to run away Some of the men jumped up and seized hold of him, saying, “What are you running away for?” He answered—his guilty conscience giving him away against his will—”Me! I was only coming to the dance I don’t know what that bird is talking about.” It began again, and its song rang out clearly over the heads of the men who were holding him They listened, the meaning of the song began to dawn on them, and they grew suspicious They asked him, “What is this bird saying?” He said, “I don’t know.” They killed him From: Alice Werner, Myths And Legends of the Bantu (London: G G Harrup, 1933)
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