"I'm not agoing to. Mind how you step, else you'll obset that buttermilk--not that it would matter much, for it ain't been rightly made. Should ha' been kep' in a calabash with a drop of old milk in the bottom, to flavour it with a taste of biled leather and smoke that belongs to the proper article. But all the old arts is dying out, and insects and beasts is the only critturs that keep up the old customs. Conservatism is a law of nature--among men who have broken away from nature it's a blind, unreasonin' protest against change. Conservatism is the preserving wisdom of the aged, the salt of experience, and change is born of the rashness of youth. I'm a Conservative--I'm old. I should be presarved for the edification and guidance of the young. Give me the buttermilk." As he would not move, I tilted his chair over by kicking the legs away, and passed over his recumbent body to the bedroom. After a wash down I found him still outspread on the ground, his long legs hooked over the chair, and his head resting on his arm, while the glow of his pipe showed that he was still calmly smoking. "What's brought you over here, Uncle?" "Well, I 'spect I walked. Have you ever observed, sonny, that the human body is so built that it will fit itself to any position? This is comfortable and the tobacco is fair to middlin', fair to middlin', with a touch of sulphur in it." I sat down on the stone steps to listen to the most delightful of all sounds--those made by the domestic animals and birds settling to rest; while from the deep black of the sky the stars shot out with a sudden blaze, and the cool night wind came softly whispering through the acacias. Uncle Abe gathered himself up, and bunched upon the rail, his back bent like a sickle to keep his balance. "What's acrost over yonder?" he said. "My boundary ridge." "Your boundary ridge! An' a euphorby tree, and a sprinkling of white thorn acacias, with the gum drops glistenin' on the rough bark, and a few grey stones all covered with moss and a stretch of grey veld. Go 'long; there's more than that under the curtain of the dark, for if there weren't why would you an' me sit here and look away off, an' look an' look, as ef behind the curtain was all the mysteries of the unknown world. The dark makes a wonderful difference." "So it does--when you're five miles from home and hear the `gurr' of a tiger." "Sonny, I've downed that black tiger." "You have!" "That's so. Ole Abe Pike has come out on top--and soon's I skinned him I lit out to tell you the news. You see it was my wits against his. Traps was no good, so I determined to set my skin against his and trust to the ole gun. I calculated to tackle him right close up to his lair." "In the kloof?"