Oshino shitimwitira shaNgede, mushani waghushi, ntani mukafumughona wamakurulya va ta Gingle. Liyuva limwe opo ayendire Gingle aka shane a yuvu Ngede ana ku mu yito. Gingle ava vareka kukugwemena pakughaya ushi. A yimana ategherere nawa, kupupwida dogoro a mono shidira pamutavi pamutwe wendi. “Chitik-chitik-chitik,” shina kutjopitira shidira, omo shina kuteremba-teremba kuta shitondo yenda shitondo.”Chitik-chitik-chitik,” a shi yita, kuminanga kadidi mposhi Gingle a kwame.
This is the story of Ngede, the Honeyguide, and a greedy young man named Gingile.
One day while Gingile was out hunting he heard the call of Ngede. Gingile’s mouth began to water at the thought of honey. He stopped and listened carefully, searching until he saw the bird in the branches above his head.
“Chitik-chitik-chitik,” the little bird rattled, as he flew to the next tree, and the next.
“Chitik, chitik, chitik,” he called, stopping from time to time to be sure that Gingile followed.
Muruku rwaukahe waviri, ava katika mughukuyu waunene. Ngede ayimana munda yadimutavi. Nko shungiri pamutavi umwe nko kungumukira Gingle naku mu tantera ashi, ” Odino pano! Yiya ngoli! Vinka una kudighamena weyo?” Gingle kapi adi monine mpuka uye munda yashitondo, ene ngoli a huguvalire Ngede.
After half an hour, they reached a huge wild fig tree.
Ngede hopped about madly among the branches. He then settled on one branch and cocked his head at Gingile as if to say, “Here it is! Come now! What is taking you so long?”
Gingile couldn’t see any bees from under the tree, but he trusted Ngede.
Gingle nko kutura lighonga lyendi palivhu munda yashitondo, a pongayiki tuhako natumushoni twakukukuta a vankede mundiro. Opo wahwamine mundiro utwere nawa, a turapo tutondo twakukukuta mposhi ghukwate mundiro. Shikuni shinya kwayuvikire mukutapa muti waghuyingi pakutwera. A vareke kuronda, kuno uye ana patende shitiki shina kutumuku muti namayegho.
So Gingile put down his hunting spear under the tree, gathered some dry twigs and made a small fire.
When the fire was burning well, he put a long dry stick into the heart of the fire. This wood was especially known to make lots of smoke while it burned.
He began climbing, holding the cool end of the smoking stick in his teeth.
Na kadidishi a vareke kuyuva muyoyo wampuka. Darupuka tupu dangene kurupako- muutuo wado. Opo a katikire Gingle a yweke kanya katondo katutumukiro muti kurupako. Mpuka adi vareke kurupuka mo, dina garapa ntani dina keregenya. A di tuka mukondashi kapi daholire muti- ene ngoli kumeho yavyo da mu yuvitire tjutju Gingle paku mu bota!
Soon he could hear the loud buzzing of the busy bees. They were coming in and out of a hollow in the tree trunk – their hive.
When Gingile reached the hive he pushed the smoking end of the stick into the hollow.
The bees came rushing out, angry and mean. They flew away because they didn’t like the smoke – but not before they had given Gingile some painful stings!
Opo da rupukire, Gignle a ngeneke lighoko lyendi mushitunguru. A ghupu mo lighoko lyakuyura lyaushi, kuna kushonya ushi wamaghadi, ndya dadikenu. A di tura mu ncunu yandi nko kukukambeka, a vareke kudumpuka kushitondo.
When the bees were out, Gingile pushed his hands into the nest. He took out handfuls of the heavy comb, dripping with rich honey and full of fat, white grubs.
He put the comb carefully in the pouch he carried on his shoulder, and started to climb down the tree.
Ngede kengire navintje vinya a rughanine Gingle. Kwa mu tatililire tupu a mu shushivereko ushi wampandu- kwa muneghedi waushi. Ngede a narauka kutunda tunda mutavi yenda mutavi, nakukokera pendi napalivu. Kuruku Gingle a ya tiki palivu munda yashitondo. Ngede a nyotama paliwe pepi namumati a tatere mfuto yendi.
Ngede eagerly watched everything that Gingile was doing. He was waiting for him to leave a fat piece of honeycomb as a thank-you offering to the Honeyguide.
Ngede flittered from branch to branch, closer and closer to the ground. Finally Gingile reached the bottom of the tree.
Ngede perched on a rock near the boy and waited for his reward.
Ene ngoli, Gingle a dimita mundiro, a damuna lighonga lyendi nko kayenda kumundi, nakushuva shidira. Ngede a yiyiri naugara, “VIC-torr! VIC-torrr!” Gingle a yimana, a tetuka nakukengurura shidira nko kushepa unene. “Una shana udhi ndi, una shana, muholi wande? Ha! Ene ngoli ame kurughana virughana navintje, kumwe nakuntjuma mpuka. Mukonda munke tukutaperera ushi nove?” Nko kayenda. Ngede a garapa! Kapi wakalire muteku wauwa unya kwendi! Ana hepa ku mu vyuta ruvoko.
But, Gingile put out the fire, picked up his spear and started walking home, ignoring the bird.
Ngede called out angrily, “VIC-torr! VIC-torrr!”
Gingile stopped, stared at the little bird and laughed aloud. “You want some honey, do you, my friend? Ha! But I did all the work, and got all the stings. Why should I share any of this lovely honey with you?” Then he walked off.
Ngede was furious! This was no way to treat him! But he would get his revenge.
Liyuva limwe muruku rwa vivike vyangandi Gingle a yuvu shivito shaushi sha Ngede. A vurukuka utovali waushi, nko kukwama shidira shinya nka. Muruku rwaku mu pititira Gingle kuntere yawiya, Ngede a yimana a pwiyumukeko mushitondo muugumbaghamo. “Ahh,” A ghayara Gingle. ” Ushi mpoghuli una hepa kukara ngoli muno mushitondo.” Nko kuvankeda mundiro wangu-wangu, kumwe nakuvareka kuronda, ano katondo kamundito kana kutumuko muti ana kapandeka navayegho. Ngede a shungiri a mu kengere.
One day several weeks later Gingile again heard the honey call of Ngede. He remembered the delicious honey, and eagerly followed the bird once again.
After leading Gingile along the edge of the forest, Ngede stopped to rest in a great umbrella thorn. “Ahh,” thought Gingile. “The hive must be in this tree.” He quickly made his small fire and began to climb, the smoking branch in his teeth. Ngede sat and watched.
Gingle a rondo, na kuteteka ngoli ashi morwa nka ana kupulira kuyuva mpuka. “Walye hushi ure una kara mushitondo,” a ghayara. A shenye shimpe pamutavi umweya. Mulivango lya kumona ushi, hawe twaka-twaka namajto ghalishimbu! Lishumbu lina garapa mukonda yakuluyakumuna paturo. Nko kuferera kadidi, nakuyashama lineghede mayegho ghalyo ghamanene ghamatwe.
Gingile climbed, wondering why he didn’t hear the usual buzzing. “Perhaps the hive is deep in the tree,” he thought to himself. He pulled himself up another branch. But instead of the hive, he was staring into the face of a leopard!
Leopard was very angry at having her sleep so rudely interrupted. She narrowed her eyes, opened her mouth to reveal her very large and very sharp teeth.
Kumeho yakurenka ashi lishumbu livatukire Gingle, a kwangura kudumpuka. Mukukwangulita ngoweyo a potomoka kumutavi, nko kakudaya palivu nk kateturuka lighuru. A rambuka wangu-wangu. Lirago tupu ashi, Lishumbu kwa kalire shimpe kapu tuna lipu turo mukurenka ashi li mu tjide. Ngede, muneghedi waghushi, a vyitire ruvoko. Ano Gingle a kushongilire ko.
Before Leopard could take a swipe at Gingile, he rushed down the tree.
In his hurry he missed a branch, and landed with a heavy thud on the ground twisting his ankle. He hobbled off as fast as he could. Luckily for him, Leopard was still too sleepy to chase him. Ngede, the Honeyguide, had his revenge.
And Gingile learned his lesson.
Makura, vana va Gingle opo va yuvire shitimwitira shino sha Ngede ava fumadeke ngoli shidira shinya. Ntjeneshi kuna kavanda ushi, kehe pano kava kamushuviirango ushi wauyingi naye muneghedi waushi.
And so, when the children of Gingile hear the story of Ngede they have respect for the little bird. Whenever they harvest honey, they make sure to leave the biggest part of the comb for Honeyguide!
