Far way, in a very hot country, there once lived a man and woman who had two children, a son named Koane and a
daughter called Thakane.
Early in the morning and late in the evenings the parents worked hard in the fields, resting, when the sun was
high, under the shade of some tree. While they were absent the little girl kept house alone, for her brother
always got up before the dawn, when the air was fresh and cool, and drove out the cattle to the sweetest patches
of grass he could find.
One day, when Koane had slept later than usual, his father and mother went to their work before him, and there
was only Thakane to be seen busy making the bread for supper.
'Thakane,' he said, 'I am thirsty. Give me a drink from the tree Koumongoe, which has the best milk in the
world.'
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'Oh, Koane,' cried his sister, 'you know that we are forbidden to touch that tree. What would father say when he
came home? For he would be sure to know.'
'Nonsense,' replied Koane, 'there is so much milk in Koumongoe that he will never miss a little. If you won't
give it to me, I sha'n't take the cattle out. They will just have to stay all day in the hut, and you know that
they will starve.' And he turned from her in a rage, and sat down in the corner.
Thakane did not know what to do. She was afraid to disobey her parents, who would most likely beat her, yet the
beasts would be sure to suffer if they were kept in, and she would perhaps be beaten for that too. So at last she
took an axe and a tiny earthen bowl, she cut a very small hole in the side of Koumongoe, and out gushed enough
milk to fill the bowl.
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'Here is the milk you wanted,' said she, going up to Koane, who was still sulking in his corner.