On hearing the voice of entreaty at his side, the young Indian had turned his eyes from the face of our big black hero, and perceiving by the boy's looks, tones, and gestures that an appeal was making in his behalf, had fixed them earnestly on the face of our little white hero, as if willing to look there for mercy, though disdaining to ask it of the giant victor under whose grasp he lay. Now that he had taken a good long look at him, Burl could not help being in some sort struck with the wild and singular beauty of the young brave's whole appearance. Then came back to his remembrance the pitying, good-humored smile, with which the little captive had been regarded, as they had sat so sociably chatting together on the log. Here the lion went fast asleep, and the Newfoundland grew broad awake. Scratching his back with the knuckle of his thumb, as was his habit in moments of perplexity, he at length turned to his little master and broke the painful silence thus: "An' is my little man shore de red varmint was good to him, an' toted him on his back?" "Yes, indeed, that I am!" replied the boy with glad eagerness, now that he saw the light of mercy beginning to shine in the victor's eye. "And if you don't let him up, I'll bellow like a buffalo-bull, so I will; and won't never love you no more, so I won't." Generous little runaway. "An' would my little man like fur us to take de young Injun home wid us?" "Yes, indeed, that I would!" The little man was delighted at the thought, but immediately added, "If he would like to go." Considerate little runaway. "An' s'posin' ef he wouldn't; what den?" "Then let him go home to his mother." Filial little runaway. "I yi, my larky!" cried the Fighting Nigger, with an emphatic snap of finger and thumb, then added: "But Bushie, why didn't you holler fur me when de dead varmint ober yander gobbled you up?" "Because he slipped up behind me while I was watching the squirrels and crows, and before I knew it clapped his hand over my mouth." "Ah, Bushrod, Bushrod!" with a sad shake of the head; "didn't I tole you dar's Injuns in de woods wid stickin' knives an' splittin' tomahawks fur bad little boys as don't mind der mudders an' runs away frum home an' hain't got nothin' to say fur 'emselves but beca'se? Heh, didn't I?" "Yes, you did!" acknowledging the fact with sheepish frankness. "Well, ef I let dis young Injun up, will you eber do de like ag'in--run away wid de red varmints an' make yo'r pore mudder mizzible?" "No, indeed; that I won't! 'Indeed, and double 'deed,' I won't!" his eyes now filling with tears. Remorseful little runaway.