And with that skill, of which he had already supplied so many proofs, the Canadian manufactured, with branches of trees he cut down with his hatchet, a litter, on which the two tiger skins were laid. "And now," he said, "good bye; perhaps we shall never meet again. We part, I trust, on better terms than we came together: remember, there is no trade, however shameful, which an honest man cannot carry on honourably; when your heart inspires you to do a good action, do not be deaf to it, but do it without regret, for God will have spoken to you." "Thanks," the dealer said, with considerable emotion, "but grant me one word before we part." "Say on." "Tell me your name, so that if any day accident brought us together again, I might appeal to your recollections, as you could to mine." "That is true, my name is Tranquil; the wood-rangers, my companions, have surnamed me the Panther killer." And, ere the slave dealer had recovered from the astonishment caused by this sudden revelation of the name of a man whose renown was universal on the border, the hunter, after giving him a parting wave of the hand, bounded from the platform, unfastened his canoe, and paddled vigorously to the other bank. "Tranquil, the Panther-killer," John Davis muttered when he was alone; "it was truly my good genius which inspired me to make a friend of that man." He lay down on the litter which two of his men raised, and after giving a parting glance at the Canadian, who at this moment was landing on the opposite bank, he said:-- "Forward!" The platform was soon deserted again, the dealer and his men had disappeared under the covert, and nothing was audible but the gradually departing growls of the bloodhounds, as they ran on ahead of the little party. CHAPTER III. BLACK AND WHITE. In the meanwhile, as we have said, the Canadian hunter, whose name we at length know, had reached the bank of the river where he left the Negro concealed in the shrubs. During the long absence of his defender, the slave could easily have fled, and that with the more reason, because he had almost the certainty of not being pursued before a lapse of time, which would have given him a considerable start on those who were so obstinately bent on capturing him. He had not done so, however, either because the idea of flight did not appear to him realizable, or because he was too wearied, he had not stirred from the spot where he sought a refuge at the first moment, and had remained with his eyes obstinately fixed on the platform, following with anxious glance the movements of the persons collected on it.