You are getting fat, Prester John, he chided the pony. Allegedly, hisgrandmother had been a Bushman slave captured by the Boers in one of thelast great slave raids of the previous century. A marble eagle, perched on a tattered battle standard, was onthe point of flight, with wings spread. Manfred picked up his pack and blanket roll and stepped out ofthe undergrowth onto the dusty rutted road.
Sit down, Mater. It'snot fair. I didn't catch your name. You wait here with Henny.
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