Some from other lands say:
That we are defective wells
Lacking the kindliness of water
And the solid foundation of truth:
That our selfish and intolerant treatment
Of the Dark People—our fellow-countrymen—
Degrades us below the level
Of the red-blanketed heathen,
Who shares his scanty meal
With the passing stranger:
That our politics and administration
Are spoiled by corruption,
Even as sound mealies—carelessly stored—
Are riddled and destroyed
By the avid weevil;
And that the shrewd, sharp-nosed jackal—
Favourite hero of our nursery stories—
Should be to us a national emblem
Far more fitting than the gay and guileless springbok.