Dred looked upon Tiff with an air of acquiescent pity, which had in it a slight shade of contempt, and said, as if in soliloquy,—
"Issachar is a strong ass, couching down between two burdens; and he saw that rest was good, and the land that it was pleasant, and bowed his shoulder to bear, and became a servant unto tribute."
"As to rest," said Tiff, "de Lord knows I an't had much of dat ar, if I be an ass. If I had a good, strong pack-saddle, I'd like to trot dese yer chil'en out in some good cleared place."
"Well," said Dred, "you have served him that was ready to perish, and not betrayed him who wandered; therefore the Lord will open for you a fenced city in the wilderness."
"Jest so," said Tiff; "dat ar camp o'yourn is jest what I's arter. I's willing to lend a hand to most anyting dat's good."
"Well," said Dred, "the children are too tender to walk where we must go. We must bear them as an eagle beareth her young. Come, my little man!"
And, as Dred spoke, he stooped down and stretched out his hands to Teddy. His severe and gloomy countenance relaxed into a smile, and, to Tiff's surprise, the child went immediately to him, and allowed him to lift him in his arms.
"Now I'd thought he'd been skeered o' you!" said Tiff.
"Not he! I never saw a child or dog that I couldn't make come to me. Hold fast, now, my little man!" he said, seating the boy on his shoulder. "Trees have long arms; don't let them rake you off. Now, Tiff," he said, "you take the girl and come after, and when we come into the thick of the swamp, mind you step right in my tracks. Mind you don't set your foot on a tussock if I haven't set mine there before you; because the moccasons lie on the tussocks."