‘I do!’
‘May I ask Oom’s name?’
‘Certainly, young man; my name is Zarl Venter.’
‘Will Oom have a shelter for us to-night.’
‘Young friend, I have never turned a stranger away from my door, even though I am poor; and hope I never will. If you are satisfied with the best we have, which is not much, you are welcome.’
‘Thank you, Oom; we have food, but we should like a shelter as it looks like rain, and a little food and shelter for our horses.’
‘Food and shelter for yourselves, I have already told you you are welcome to the best we have. As to your horses, I have no stable, but those big trees are as good as any stable if it does not rain very much. As to forage, my son has a little; you must ask him.’
‘We will pay him for it, uncle.’
‘Speak to him yourselves.’
The horses were soon tied up and fed, and our young men found themselves in a low room, barely furnished, with a few chairs and a table. Supper was on the table, and consisted of coffee and bread ad lib, nothing more.