Luno luli lukano lwa Nabuukhi, umwoolesi we bubuukhi, n’umusooleli we kumukhabyo isi balaanga bari Muluungo. Shifukhu shitweela nga Muluungo ali khuyiima tsisaanyi, waawulila khulaanga khwa Nabuukhi. Muluungo aananikha khuutsutsukhaka kamare nga alyambaasile khu buukhi. Emikha waarekeeresa buulayi, waaheentsa khukhwoolesa n’abona khanywiinywi (Nabuukhi) angaaki khu lusokya. Khanywiinywi khafwiiti khasoka khari, “kingili-kingili-kingili, nga ni khapamburukha khukhwaama khu kusaala kutweela khuutsya khu kwiilakho. Khasoka nga khalaanga khari, “kingili-kingili, kingili”, buli mbuka khaatsya nga kheemikha khuuhandalasa nga Muluungo waakhaloondilekho.”
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.
Lwanyuma lwe shisiintsa she saawa, boola khu kusaala Kukhuuwa, kuukali kwe musiru. Nabuukhi waasuniaakila nga efulyuungula mu musokya. Lwanyuma waakwa khu lusokya lutweela, waabokekha kumurwe isi Muluungo, nga afwaana uloma ari, “Buli ano! Yiitsa ari! Shiina kila uli khukhwikhweekhweesa?” Muluungo s’aanyalisa khuubona intsukhi yoosi khukhwaama mu kusaala mwisina ta, ne eyikina Nabuukhi.
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.
Aryo Muluungo waasimikha lifumo lyeewe aasi mwisina mwe kusaala, waangalisaka bisaantsu bibyoomu, waasa kumulilo. Nga kumulilo kwahaambile buulayi, aasobekha lusaala lulwoomu luleeyi akari mu mulilo. Lusaala luno abe lwaamanyikhana lwe khuurusa lisuusi, lyepoowa naabi nga lulikho luya. Kila ananikha khuniina khu kusaala, nga walumile khu meeno luhaande lwe lusaala lulukhalikho kumulilo khukhwipoowa lisuusi ta.
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.
Lubaluba, wawulila khuwuuma khuukali khwe ntsukhi, iili khuuroka bubuukhi. Niyo yaba yingila nga nirura mu khoombe ye kusaala – kumusiinga kwayo. Nga Muluungo woolile khu musiinga, aasobekha lusaala lulwipoowa lisuusi mu khoombe. Intsukhi yasookha mu khoombe, nga yaarafuyile, luundi nga yalunduumile. Yaapururukha yaatsya, lwekhuuba siyakana lisuusi - ne yaatsa khutsya nga yaamalile khuutsiinikha Muluungo tsimboola tsitsoolakho.
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!
Nga intsukhi yaaruriremo, Muluungo aasobekha kumukhono mu musiinga. Aryo waasoolakamo kamasasari kakaaroka bubuukhi, nga kerururkukha bubuukhi butitinyu, luundi nga ketsuule ni kamaana kamanefu, kamawaanga. Aabiikha ni bubwiheembe buukali kamasasari mu wootswa isi aaba waabaliile khwiibeka, nio waananikha khukhwiikha aasi khukhwaama khu kusaala.
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.
Nabuukhi niya ofwaasa ni shirukuruku shiikali buli shoosi sheesi Muluungo aaba ali khuukhola. Aaba waaliindiliile lisasari lititinyu nga khaasiimo lwe khuumwoolesa eena isi bubuukhi buli. Nabuukhi waasolakila khukhwaama khu lusokya lutweela naatsya khu luundi, nga eekha aasi, aasi, khukhwoola aambi khwiloba. Lwanyuma lwayo, Muluungo woola aasi mwisina mwe kusaala. Nabuukhi weereka khwiibaale aambi n’umusooleli nga ashiliinda khaasiimo kheewe.
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.
Ne Muluungo aasimisa kumulilo, waakhuula lifumo lyeewe, waananikha khuutsya ingo weewe, nga s’enaanayo khu khanywiinywi ta. Nabuukhi waakukuula ni lirima liikali ari, “BUBUUKhi! BuBUUkhi!” Muluungo weemikha, waahunguusa tsimoni khu khanywiinywi, luundi waakhatsekhelela luukali. Wareeba ari, “Ukanakho bubuukhi, manya nawe, musaale wase?” Waatsekha ari, “Haa! Ne ise ikholile kimilimo kyoosi, naafuna tsimboola tsoosi. Khu lwashiina ingabanana ni nawe bubuukhi buulayi buno?” Lwanyuma wakyeenda waatsya. Nabuukhi waakhalala naabi. Yino siili niyo isaambo iye khuumubirisa ta. Ne kane elihaasibwe.
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.
Shifukhu shitweela, nga ilibirirewo tsisabiti tsitsoola mukhono, Muluungo ndi waawulila shikukuulo sha Nabuukhi. Waakhebulila bubuukhi buutokota, ni shirukuruku, waaloondelela khanywiinywi luundi. Lwanyuma lwe khuraangilila Muluungo khu lwaakha lwe shisaali, weema wawolela mu sokya tse kusaala kwe kamawa. Kila Muluungo ambaasa ari, “Ahaa! Kumusiinga kwaakha khuuba kuli mu shisaala shino.” Khaangukho waasa kumulilo kweewe, waananikha khuniina, ni lusokya lulwipoowa lisuusi, nga waalulumile khu meeno. Nabuukhi eekhala waalolelela.
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.
Muluungo waniina, ne nga eyaanga lwashiina aaba nga s’awulila khuwuuma khwabusheele. Weyambaasakana ari, “Manya oosi kumusiinga kuli mu kusaala mukari.” Wesikula khu lusokya luluundi lwe angaakikho. Ne mu shifwo she kumusiinga, waalosana bubweeni ni Ingwe! Ingwe yaakhalala naabi khulwe khuukisisimusa mwiilo lyayo. Yaalolela mu bwooya, yaasama mu khanwa khukhwookesanisa kameeno kaayo kamaboofu naluundi kamooki naabi.
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.
Ne Ingwe yatsya khuloma iri imukwakho, Muluungo awololokha khu khukhwaama khu kusaala. Mu khuhakara khuukali, aasuba lusokya, wemuula kumuwuulo aasi, waabunutsa mu selengele. Aayikikila nga yanyala, waatsya. Ikhabi indayi, Ingwe yaba ishiwungukhila, nga sinyala khuumutimisa ta. Nabuukhi, Umwoolesi we bubuukhi, waaba welihaasile Muluungo. Muluungo naye aaba weyikile lisoma lyeewe.
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.
Ni lwe lomo iyo, nga babaana ba Muluungo, ni babetsukhulu beewe, baawuliile lukano lwa Nabuukhi, beesa lukoosi mu khanywiinywi khafwiiti akho. Buli lweesi batayila bubuukhi, babona bari balekhela Mwoolesi we bubuukhi shishiintsa she lisasari shishiminyisa buboofu.
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!
