The warriors volunteered. The hunters volunteered. But each was too tall, too loud, or too proud. The stone ear admitted none of them.
"So be it. You will become the one who stands at the burrow's mouth. Your back will curve. Your hands will become paws. Your eyes will learn to see the shadow of the hawk before the hawk knows itself. And you will stand guard—not for one season, not for one lifetime, but for all the generations of the Kalahari." the story of the makgabe
"I would trade everything," Makgabe said, "for my people to see rain again." The warriors volunteered
When she emerged, the warriors who had mocked her were gone. In their place, a new creature blinked at the sun—small, upright on its haunches, with rings of dark and light around its watchful eyes. The stone ear admitted none of them
Makgabe did not flinch. "Then do not give me the secret. Change me. Make me small enough to live where water hides. Make me watchful enough to warn my people of the coming heat. Make me part of the land itself, so I can never leave."
The Second Ancestor coiled tighter. "We do not give secrets to those who cannot keep them. You are mortal. You will speak. You will forget. You will die, and the secret dies with you."