You seek to know where your oxen have run for shelter from the cold! Is it not so ?" "It is so, Doctor," answered the White Man.

"You have long ears." "Yes, my white father, I have long ears, though they say that I grow deaf.

I have keen eyes also, and yet I cannot see your face.

Let me hearken! Let me look!" For awhile he was silent, rocking himself to and fro, then he spoke: "You have a farm, White Man, down near Pine Town, is it not?
Ah! I thought so--and an hour's ride from your farm lives a Boer with four fingers only on his right hand.

There is a kloof on the Boer's farm where mimosa-trees grow.