Then he came down the hill, shouting for joy and bearing roots and berries in his hand.

But when he reached the spot where Nada was, he found that her senses had left her through hunger, cold, and weariness.

She lay upon the ground like one asleep, and over her stood a jackal that fled as he drew nigh.

Now it would seem that there but two shoots to the stick of Umslopogaas.

One was to save himself, and the other to lie down and die by Nada.