Indi ehungi ohunga na Ngede, onḓera youitji nomuzandona womunenetima, Gingile. Eyuva rimwe ngunda Gingile a i okukayeva eye wa zuva eraka ra Ngede. Otjinyo tja Gingile tja uta okuwenga omate tji me ripura nouitji wozonyutji. Eye wa kurama na puratene nawa, ama yevayeva inga okazera nganduu tje ke muna motutavi kombando tjiuru tje. “Chitik-chitik-chitik,” okazera ka ṱina ṱina, ngunda amake tukatuka okuza komuti ngaa komuti warwe, na warwe. Chitik-chitik-chitik, oko ka pose, amake kurama noku tara kutja Gingile me ke kongorere.
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.
Kombundo oiri ohinga, ovo va vaza pomuti omunene womakuyu. Ngede ake utu okutukatuka tjimuna okaṋa koviyoze, kombando tutavi. Kuzambo ake haama porutavi rumwe nake takere Gingile otjiuru aayo make tja, “Owo mbwi! Indjo mba! Wa ombo pu ye?” Gingile kaa munu ozonyutji okuza kehi yomuti pa kuramene, nungwari wa ri nongamburiro mu 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.
Okutja Gingile watwa enga re pehi kehi yomuti, na nyanga oukuṋe na yakisa okamuriro okaṱiṱi. Omuriro tji wa yakura nawa, wa hitisa okati okakukutu mokati komuriro. Okarukuṋe kosaneno ndjo ke tjiukwa kutja ke tjita omuise omuingi tji ka yakura. Eye wa ṱiza okati komwise nomayo na rondo komuti.
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.
Tjimanga wa uta okuzuva ombosiro yozonyutji nḓu maze pose. Ozo tjandje maze piti nokuhita momututu womuti mu za tura. Gingile tje ya pomututu womuti wa undurira ohonga yokati komwise momututu. Ozonyutji za purukuta aza pindike, aza handja tjiri. Ozo za tuka okuzapo, tjinga amaze nyengwa imbwi omuise – nungwari rutenga za rumata noku twera Gingile ozonane!
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!
Ozonyutji tji za pita, Gingile wa hitisa eke re momututu. Eye wa nana omahira, nga pakwa nawa woutiva ouvapa mbwa ṋuna mu mamu toto ouitji wozonyutji. Eye wa twa omahira mondjaṱu ye yo kotjiṱuve, na utu okuheruka komuti.
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 nombango ondwe wa tarera avihe Gingile mbi ma ungura. Eye aa undju kutja Gingile me mu syerepo ehira rimwe rokutja okuhepa ku ye. Ngede aake tukatuka okuza korutavi norutavi ngatji ke ya pehi. Rusenina, Gingile wa vaza pehi. Ngede wa toromanene kokaruuwa ama undju otjisuta tje.
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.
Nu ngwi Gingile wa zemisa omuriro, a toora enga re na kaenda okuyaruka konganda noku hi na okutaviza ku inga okazera. Ngede wa ravaera nomazenge, “VIC-torr! VIC-torr!” Gingile wa kurama, a tara inga okazera na yoro ohaura. “Ove mo vanga ouitji wozonyutji, otji pe ri, panga randje? Haa! Nu owami ngu mba ungura avihe, ngu mba rumatwa. Ongwaye tji tu sokuhaṋasana imbwi ouitji worwaze mbwi?” Eye a kawondja. Ngede wa pindika tjinene. Ovandu tjive kara pamwe kave tjita sana nao! Posiya mutu me tji munu ko.
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.
Eyuva rimwe kombunda yovivike ovingi Gingile wa zuva omaravaerero womatjivisiro wouitji wa Ngede. Eye wa zemburuka imbwi omutjato omuwa wouitji nu nombango aihe a kongorere inga okazera rukwao. Tji ka za nokuhongorera Gingile nga kozondjendjeto zehwa, Ngede ka kurama okusuva komuti womakwiya omukwaa nehika. “Ahh,” Gingile we ripura. “Okutja oruuto mutu ru ri momuti mbwi.” Eye wa yakisa okamuriro ke na utu okuronda komuti, nokati komwise ka handa nomayo. Ngede tjandje wa haama ma tarere nawa.
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.
Gingile ngunda ama rondo tjandje wa himwa kutja ongwaye tje hi na okuzuva ombosiro yozonyutji. “Ngahino omututu u ri oukoto tjinene momuti, ’ eye we ripura. Eye wa ryama okuvaza korutavi rwarwe. Nungwari moruveze rwokumuna omututu, we kerimuna tji ma ve tarasana nongwe! Ongwe ya pindikire tjinene okupendurwa mozomboṱu zayo momuano omuhazendu mbwa sana ngo. Oyo ya siringa omeho, ai paturura otjinyo okuyarisa omayo wayo omare nomatwe tjinene navi.
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.
Ngunda indji ongwe ai hiya katukira mu Gingile, eye wa heruka tjimanga. Mohakahana ndja ri na yo eye wa heza korutavi, e kerikunda pehi na pihuka otjingombwe. Eye wa kaenda ama tenḓuna hakahana otja pu ma sora. Ouṋingandu we, ongwe ngunda ya ri mozomboṱu nu ai ha yenene okumuramba. Ngede, okazera kouitji, ka sutisa. Nu ngwi Gingile we rihonga ozondunge.
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.
Okutja, ovanatje va Gingile tji va zuva ehungi ra Ngede va harere ondengero kokazera ngo. Aruhe ovo tji mave tapa ouitji aave kondjo okuisa ehira rimwe enene pehi kutja ri rire orokazera kouitji!
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!
