Based on the information in the story, what would have happened if Nsue did not have an offering at the Festival of the New Moon? A. Nandi would have shared her honey. B. Father would have been disappointed. C. Nsue’s name would have remained the same. D. Old Man, Gao would have told stories of birds. 1 Silently he crept through jagged thornbushes. Bare feet moved swiftly over hot, arid soil to the edge of a waterhole where the kudu was drinking. The great animal suddenly looked up, spiral horns curving sharply into the endless African sky. Nsue1 did not reach for his pouch of poisoned arrows. He had no heart for killing. This would not be the day he would change his childish boyhood name.

2

Nsue left the salt pan and climbed the barren hillside to the cool twilight of the rock caves. Tonight would be the Festival of the New Moon, and Nsue had nothing to contribute to the feast. His sister, Nandi, had found four plump tsamma melons to share.

3

Nsue lay on his back and studied the ancient paintings that lined the rock walls. They reminded him of the many stories that Gao, the Old One, told about the San people of long ago. In this harsh desert climate, everyone must hunt for food to survive. Gao’s stories honored the brave hunters. Nsue wanted to hide in the caves until the stories were over. It was there that his father found him.

4

Nsue’s father knew the reason for the boy’s unhappiness. He had often heard the older boys teasing his son about his name. Nsue means “ostrich egg.” He was given this name because when he was a baby in a sling on his mother’s back, his shiny oval head looked just like an ostrich egg gleaming in the sun.

5

“Nsue is a fine name,” his father said. “Ostrich eggs are of great value to our people. One egg can feed twelve hungry men. The empty shells are used to carry and store water. Even the broken pieces become tools or jewelry. Be proud of your name!”

6

Nsue turned his head away. “It is the name of a child, not a hunter,” he cried. “I will never be a skilled hunter like you, Father. I do not wish to kill the beautiful animals of our desert.”

7

Nsue’s father squatted on his heels and surveyed the vast Kalahari beyond. “The spirit gods did not intend for all men to be hunters,” he said softly. “Some men tell stories around the cooking fires. Others paint our history on the walls of the rock caves. Men like Nxou are keepers of water. Without water, even the bravest hunters would soon die.”

8

Despite his anxiety, Nsue had to smile as he thought of skinny Nxou pressing a dry reed through the sand in just the right place, drawing water to fill 15 ostrich eggs for tonight’s celebration. “I will find something to share at the Festival of the New Moon,” Nsue promised as he left the cave and walked into the shimmering heat.

9

In time, Nsue grew tired and stopped to rest in the shade of a thornbush. At first he thought the wind was playing tricks on his ears, but there it was again: “Nta-nta-nta-nteee!”

10

When he heard the excited cry of the honeyguide bird, Nsue leaped up and began to answer with the grunts and growls of the honey badger. As he ran along, he remembered the stories of Gao, who told of the bird who seeks out other creatures to invade the combs of honeybees.

11

Nsue ran like the desert wind, and eventually the honeyguide led him to the base of a baobab tree, standing like a lonely giant against the setting sun. The hollow tree revealed an opening, with bees buzzing angrily around the excited bird.

12

Nsue quickly tore a piece of fibrous bark from the base of the tree and began to climb. Without hesitation, he reached into the hollow center and dipped his scoop into a great comb of golden honey. He returned to the ground so quickly that only a few bees were able to avenge the intrusion with angry stings.

13

Although Nsue was in a hurry, he remembered Gao’s words: “If you do not leave a portion of the comb for the honeyguide who brought you to this golden treasure, the next time it will lead you to a hungry lion instead of thick, sweet honey.”

14

It was dark when Nsue returned, and the Dance of the New Moon had already begun. His heart sang more loudly than the beautiful voices of the children. His face and arms were swollen from bee stings, but his lopsided grin was full of pride as he stepped forward and offered to share his golden prize.

15

As the music ended, his father announced, “From this day forward, my son shall be known to all as Ratel, the fierce and clever honey badger.”

Nsue: pronounced neh-SOO-ee

From “Nsue and the Honeyguide” by Sharon Howard, Faces, November 1, 2008