“F’um Fredericksburg, I tooken de horse mos’ ter de ferry, and den I tu’n him loose, kase he had sense ’nough fer ter git ter de boat by hisse’f. So arter I seen him mos’ up ter de boat, me an’ Rattler, we all lights out arter de kerriage fo’ Black Sam an’ Gumbo have time fer ter hunt fer me, an’ we foller de track clean f’um Fredericksburg ter dis heah place.” Billy told this as if it were the commonest thing in the world for a boy and a dog to follow a coach more than a hundred miles from home. George was so astonished he could only stare at Billy and gasp out: “How did you manage to keep the track?” “Dunno, suh,” replied Billy, calmly. “Rattler, he know de way better ’n me. When de rains come an’ I los’ de wheel tracks, I say ter dat ar’ dog, ‘Lookee heah, dog, we is follerin’ Marse George’--_he_ know dat jes as well as a human; an’ I say, ‘You got ter fin’ dat trail an’ dem tracks,’ an’ dat dog he know what I was talkin’ ’bout, an’ he wag he tail, an’ den he lay he nose to de groun’, an’ heah we is.” The earl had laid down his book and was listening intently to Billy’s story. “And what did you live on--what did you have to eat on the way--let me see--nearly eight days?” “We didn’t have nuttin much,” Billy admitted. “De mornin’ we lef’ home I tooken a big hoe-cake an’ put it in my sh’ut when warn’ nobody lookin’. De fus’ day I eat some, an’ gin some ter de dog. Arter dat I foun’ chinquapins an’ ches’nuts an’ some tu’nips ’long de road-side, an’ I could eat dem, but de dog couldn’, so I kep’ dat hoe-cake fur Rattler, an’ give him de las’ piece yistiddy.” “Billy,” asked George, with tears in his eyes, “were you _very_ hungry?” For the first time a distressed look came into the boy’s face. He was at his journey’s end, he was with Marse George, he had nothing more on earth to wish for; but the recollection of the hunger of those eight days--the cold, the weariness, the agonies of terror that sometimes attacked him overcame him. “Yes, suh, I was hongry,” he said, with a sob, “dat’s Gord’s truf; an’ ef it hadn’ been fur dis heah dog you neber would ha’ seed Billy no mo’. But dat dog, he go ’long snuffin’, an’ he were hongry too, I speck, dough he had some hoe-cake ’twell yistiddy; an’ if de dog coul’ hol’ out, dis nigger could.” “I’ll never, never forget it, Billy, as long as I live,” said George, half crying. Then Lord Fairfax spoke. “But how did you escape from being stopped on the road for a runaway?” “Dunno, suh,” responded Billy, using his favorite formula. “We didn’ meet many white folks on de road, an’ when we see ’em comin’ we hide in de bushes. I ain’ never spoke ter a human sence we lef’ Fredericksburg. In de daytime we hide somewh’yar by de road an’ sleep, an’ we trabbel mos’ all night. ’Twas de full o’ de moon, an’ I see dem tracks jes same as ’twas in daytime. Den, arter I los’ ’em, dis heah dog, he jes keep de road hisse’f--an’ here I is.”