"Done my damdest!" said he. "But I did n't do nuthin' but git licked. Got shot an' tore an' slammed all over thet air deck, an' could n't do no harm t' nobody. Jes luk a boss tied 'n the stall, an' a lot o' men whalin' 'im, an' a lot more tryin' t' scare 'im t' death." "Wha' d' ye s'pose thet air thing's made uv?" he inquired after a little silence. "Silver," said I. "Pure silver?" "Undoubtedly," was my answer. "Judas Priest!" said he, taking out his wallet again, to look at the trophy. "Thet air mus' be wuth suthin'." "More than a year's salary," said I. He looked up at me with a sharp whistle of surprise. "Ain' no great hand fer sech flummydiddles," said he, as he put the medal away. "It's a badge of honor," said I. "It shows you 're a brave man." "Got 'nough on 'em," said D'ri. "This 'ere rip 'n the forehead's 'bout all the badge I need." "It's from the emperor--the great Napoleon," I said. "It's a mark of his pleasure." "Wall, by Judas Priest!" said D'ri, "I would n't jump over a stump over a stun wall t' please no emp'ror, an' I would n't cut off my leetle finger fer a hull bushel basket o' them air. I hain't a-fightin' fer no honor." "What then?" said I. His face turned very sober. He pursed his lips, and spat across the ditch; then he gave his mouth a wipe, and glanced thoughtfully at the sky. "Fer liberty," said he, with decision. "Same thing my father died fer." Not to this day have I forgotten it, the answer of old D'ri, or the look of him as he spoke. I was only a reckless youth fighting for the love of peril and adventure, and with too little thought of the high purposes of my country. The causes of the war were familiar to me; that proclamation of Mr. Madison had been discussed freely in our home, and I had felt some share in the indignation of D'ri and my father. This feeling had not been allayed by the bloody scenes in which I had had a part. Now I began to feel the great passion of the people, and was put to shame for a moment. "Liberty--that is a grand thing to fight for," said I, after a brief pause. "Swap my blood any time fer thet air," said D'ri. "I can fight sassy, but not fer no king but God A'mighty. Don't pay t' git all tore up less it's fer suthin' purty middlin' vallyble. My life ain't wuth much, but, ye see, I hain't nuthin' else." We rode awhile in sober thought, hearing only a sough of the wind above and the rustling hoof-beat of our horses in the rich harvest of the autumn woods. We were walking slowly over a stretch of bare moss when, at a sharp turn, we came suddenly in sight of a huge bear that sat facing us. I drew my pistol as we pulled rein, firing quickly. The bear ran away into the brush as I fired another shot. "He 's hit," said D'ri, leaping off and bidding me hold the bit. Then, with a long stride, he ran after the fleeing bear. I had been waiting near half an hour when D'ri came back slowly, with a downhearted look.