I remember that Hans even asked me once if I would not come and peg out the exact place where I should like to be buried, so that I might be sure that there would be no mistake made when I could no longer speak for myself.

On that occasion I kicked Hans, one of the few upon which I have ever touched a native.

The truth was that I had not the slightest intention of being buried.

I wanted to live and marry Marie, not to die and be put in a hole by Hans.

Only I saw no prospect of marrying Marie, or even of seeing her again, and that was why I felt low-spirited.
Of course, from time to time news of the trek-Boers reached us, but it was extremely confused.