And right willingly did Miss Jemimy according to her faithful servant's wishes, writing it down on a "piece of paper," clear and full, not forgetting to take such steps as should make the document good and valid in the eyes of the law. Then, having wrapped it up carefully in a piece of buckskin made water-proof and sweat-proof by bear's-grease rubbed in, Burl, with an awl and two wax-ends, sewed it up securely in the crown of his bear-skin cap. And, as the poor fellow was never left behind, there it remained for the rest of his days, with never a hope that he might some day have occasion to use it--never one regret that he had not accepted at once the priceless blessing it offered. Chapter XVI. HOW BIG BLACK BURL FIGURED ON THE PEACE-PATH. It were long, and needless too, to tell of every thing that happened in and around our little fort during the fortnight the young Indian remained a captive among the Whites. Captive, however, we should hardly call him, since he was left entirely at liberty to go whithersoever he chose; and there was nothing to hinder him from walking back to Chillicothe, his home, whenever the humor might seize him, except a nice sense of honor and a crippled arm. Every morning, after he had cheered his solitude with a pipe of tobacco, Kumshakah--for that was the young Indian's name--accompanied by Bushie, would go and present himself at Mrs. Reynolds's door, that, according to her express desire, he might have his wound dressed. Though grave and reserved in his demeanor toward every one else, Kumshakah could show himself talkative and affable enough when alone with Shekee-thepatee ("Little Raccoon"), as he called his little white friend Bushie. For hours together would these two loving chums--for such they soon became--keep up a lively, confidential interchange of thought and sentiment, each in his own language, and evidently quite as much to the other's entertainment as to his own satisfaction, which was rather remarkable, seeing that neither understood a word the other was saying. The other children of the fort, holding the red stranger in too great awe and dread to trust themselves within his reach, would watch the two with sharp curiosity from a distance, admiring and envying the courage and easy assurance with which their playfellow could rub against so terrible a creature as a skin-clad, feather-crested Indian warrior, who was always whittling with his scalping-knife.