The Old Chief Mshlanga. Doris Lessing

is Chief Mshlanga,’ said the young man.

      ‘I will tell my father that I met you,’ I said.

      The old man said: ‘My greetings to your father, little Nkosikaas.’

      ‘Good morning,’ I said politely, finding the politeness difficult, from lack of use.

      ‘’Morning, little Nkosikaas,’ said the old man, and stood aside to let me pass.

      I went by, my gun hanging awkwardly, the dogs sniffing and growling, cheated of their favourite game of chasing natives like animals.