It was near the beginning of things, but it was not really right at the beginning. Life was good. The land was fat, and luscious with grass. The herds of the people were free from any sickness, for there was not yet any sickness in the world. Nor was there any strife, nor any sort of evil.
The cause of all this was the buffalo, Wonder-Worker-of-the-World. Whenever the people needed anything they would ask him for it. If a man needed a large assegai he would go to Wonder-Worker-of-the-World, and lean upon his big black shoulder, and sing:
“Ah, my father, it is from you
Comes all goodness.
It is from you
Comes this long spear.”
Then he would take the assegai and go away to hunt.
Or if a woman needed a length of colored cloth she would come to the buffalo and lean upon his shoulder and say:
“Oh, my father, it is from you
Comes all goodness.
It is from you
Comes this fine cloth.”
Then she would take the cloth for a body wrap.
So things went on, and for a while, Wonder-Worker-of-the-World thought that things were good, and then he saw that they were too good. “These people will never do anything,” he said. “Whatever they ask I must give them, but I do not wish that they should not be able to get anything for themselves.” So he went away from his people, and they were left on their own.
At first the people were confused, but then they found other ways of getting the things they needed. They found they could make spears and spin cloth and dig for metal in the ground.
And it was ever the custom, when they got what they needed, to sing:
“Oh, my father, it is from you
Comes all goodness.”
Thus it was with most of the people. But there were those who were lazy, who thought badly of Wonder-Worker-of-the-World because he left them. They took what they wanted from those who made it and killed those who tried to keep what they had made. Murder and theft came into the world and with them many other evil things: sorrow, hunger, disease, and so forth.
Again, there was confusion among the people. Things became worse and worse. The fat land became thin and worn out with the people’s struggle. The grass was trampled into bloody dust.
An old man who remembered the early, easy days said “It must be that we have offended our father, Wonder-Worker-of-the-World. He has given us everything, and we have returned nothing to him. We must give our father a most valuable gift. Then he will see that we love him, and all will be well once more.”
Now this old man was quite wrong, but no one knew that. Everyone believed him. Some thought that if the people gave back to the buffalo some of what he had given them, he would take away all misery and confusion. Others thought that if the gift were great enough, their father would come to them to stay, again taking care of all their needs.
There was much discussion as to what the proper gift would be. At last it was decided that the only suitable thing would be to give him one of themselves. So they chose a beautiful, strong young maiden named Untombinde and clothed her in finely woven wraps. They put golden ornaments in her hair and on her breasts. Then she was ready and they had to learn how to send their gift to Wonder-Worker-ofthe-World.
The old man told them, “You must kill Untombinde. Kill her. It is the only way she will come to our father, who is gone from among us.”
Again, the old man was wrong, but again all believed him, because he was so old.
The people took up all their weapons and gathered in a circle. Untombinde stood at the center, filled with fear. The people took a step towards her and she fell to her knees. “No,” she cried. “Do not kill me!” But the people with their weapons drew a step nearer, and she fell onto the ground. Then she felt a sinking feeling, and she lifted her head. She saw that she had sunk into the earth as high as her waist. She screamed again and again. The people stepped nearer and nearer, and held their weapons high to strike. She felt the earth pull her down, so that now only her head was above ground. Untombinde gave one final scream, and down came the knives and death clubs. But they did not kill her, for she was safe under the earth.
Untombinde was riding on the back of an enormous buffalo.
She knew it was her father, Wonder-Worker-of-the-World. At first everything was black around her, but gradually she came to see. The road was shining like starlight. The plants and trees along the way were like the moon behind thin clouds. All glowed softly with a dim beauty.
Wonder-Worker-of-the-World took her to his kraal. He said “I asked my people for no gift, but since they were so evil as to try to slay you, you will stay with me and be my wife.” He showed her where they would sleep, and where the garden was, and many other things to do with their life, some of which were wonders.
The buffalo had three wells. One of them was sweet and one was salty and one was sour like beer. Untombinde had to water the vegetables from the proper wells. She had to learn songs to sing to the spirits of the garden, those which would encourage the vegetables to grow.
The buffalo had three fires: a red fire, a green fire, and a black fire. Untombinde had to tend the fires. Each needed a special fuel. Wonder-Worker-of-the-World told her that bad things would happen if the fires went out. “And if it is the black fire which dies,” he told her, “it is all over for the both of us.”
The buffalo had three windows. One showed the land there below the earth. One showed what happened in the land above the sky. But the third showed nothing, for it was kept covered.
The buffalo gave Untombinde three jars. In the first was a red paste. “Use this, he told her, “and polish my horns.” So she did. The second jar contained a green paste. “Use this to polish my hooves.” So she did that, using the green paste. The third jar was larger than the other two and was filled with a black liquid. “Use this when you brush my hide,” he said, and again she did as she was bid.
Thus Untombinde lived with Wonder-Worker-of-the-World. She groomed him and cared for his garden and tended his three fires. When she was not busy she looked through the open windows and saw many strange things. She would have been very happy if not for that third window.
At first she was just bothered by the way that her husband kept it covered. She teased him and teased him. Wonder-Worker-of-the-World had never been good at refusing to give things to his people, and finally he allowed Untombinde to uncover the window. It showed her all the things that were happening on the earth.
Now that she had gotten what she wanted, Untombinde was still not happy. Far from it. For though the people had tried to kill her, she did not really believe they were evil, but only ignorant. And there they were, no better off than they had been before, while she was living a life much improved. So she watched and watched as her people suffered and she was filled with sorrow.
The sadder she became, the more time she spent looking through this window at the things that made her sad. Even when she looked through the other windows she was still seeing the wars and plagues that troubled the earth. Even when she attended to her tasks she cried for the sorrows of her people. The sweet and sour plants became weak and sickly because of the salt tears that fell constantly upon them from the eyes of Untombinde. The salty plants grew rank, like weeds, and dominated the garden.
She did not notice; she saw only the sorrows of the earth. Untombinde wept into the pots of grooming paste and ruined them.
Her husband’s coat grew patchy and thin; his horns and hooves grew dull. She did not notice, for she saw only the sorrows of the earth.
But one day Untombinde looked up from her weeping and saw to her horror that her tears were drowning the black fire! Quickly she sprang up to feed it. The air grew dark around her; the land’s dim light faded and she had to gasp for every breath. Groping about, she found a little bit of kindling which had not been soaked through with her tears. She placed the kindling on the smoldering black fire and blew upon the coals with her feeble breath. At last the flames shot high again and everything came back as it had been. Just then her husband dragged himself in through the door. “What happened?” he asked when he had strength enough to speak. He himself had nearly died because of her neglect.
Untombinde told him everything, and the buffalo was very sad. “It is clear that you do not belong here, but on earth where you were born,” he said. “But how should I send you back to your people who wickedly would have slain you? They do not deserve to have you among them.”
Then Untombinde pleaded with him. It was true she missed her people and she wished that she might be able to help them. Yet also she had come to love her husband, Wonder-Worker-of-the-World, and if he sent her back above to live, she would never be happy again.
The couple talked and talked. After many days they decided what to do. Now some of the time Untombinde lives on the earth, and some of the time she lives below it. And sometimes she travels alone, and sometimes she rides on the back of a big, black buffalo. And if you see a beautiful, strong young maiden riding such a beast, you must lean against his shoulder and sing for me:
“Oh, my father, it is from you
Comes all goodness.
It is from you Came this story.”