Where pretty white one? Where little white one, Where do you go?
Tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! cried the Hare, and ran back to its grandmother. “See, grandmother,” said the timid little creature, “what the Lynx is saying to me,” and she repeated the song. “Ho! Nosis,” that is to say, courage my grandchild, run along, and tell him you are going home to your native land: so the Hare went back and began to sing,
To the point of land I roam, For there is the white one’s home,— Whither I go.
Then the Lynx looked at the trembling Hare, and began to sing,
Little white one, tell me why Like to leather, thin and dry, Are your pretty ears?
Tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! cried the Hare, and she ran back to her grandmother, and repeated the words. “Go Nosis, and tell him your uncles fixed them so, when they came from the South.” So the Hare ran back and sang,
From the south my uncles came, And they fixed my ears the same,— Fixed my slender ears.
and then the Hare laid her pink ears upon her shoulders, and was about to go on, but the Lynx began to sing again,—
Why, why do you go away? Pretty white one, can’t you stay? Tell me why your little feet, Are made so dry and very fleet?
Tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! said the poor little Hare, and she ran back again to the lodge to ask again. “Ho! Nosis!” said the grandmother, who was old and tired, “do not mind him, nor listen to him, nor answer him, but run on.”