Big Black Burl looked down on the young Indian brave: the young Indian brave, with unflinching bright, black eyes, looked up at Big Black Burl. Slowly the victor raised the murderous knife aloft, his eyes still bent on the young brave's face, and seeing there something that made his hand less swift than was its wont in dealing the death-blow. But the knife was on the point of descending when Bushie came running up to the spot, crying out in beseeching accents as he came: "Don't, Burl, don't kill that one! Please don't!"
This stayed the uplifted hand, and glancing around at his little master, Burl, with a look of great surprise, exclaimed, "W'y, Bushie, taint nothin' but a Injun!"
"But that one was good to me, Burl."
"A red varmint good to a little white boy! Git out!"
"Yes, but he was, Burl. That one," pointing to the dead savage, "was going to split my head open with his hatchet, when this one," pointing to the young brave, "ran up to him and pushed him away from me, and said something to him loud and mad which made him look scared and mean."
"What did de big Injun do to you, Bushie?" inquired Burl, now lowering the knife.
"He didn't do nothing to me but look ugly at me, when this one would be toting me on his back across the creeks and up the hills."
"Which one uf de varmints was it, Bushie, dat gobbled you up frum de corn-fiel' fence, back yander?"
"That one," with a look toward the dead savage. "This one," with a nod toward the young brave, "didn't want him to do it, I know he didn't, because he walked on by talking to the other and shaking his head. And when the other got tired of toting me and wanted to kill me, then it was that this one ran up and took me away from him. Then he led me by the hand till I got tired, then toted me on his back till I got rested. And that's the way he was doing all the time. And when I got so tired and sleepy I couldn't walk any longer, he took me up in his arms and carried me so far, I don't know how far, through the dark woods. Then when they stopped he gave me something to eat and made me a bed of pawpaw limbs, and laid me down to sleep and slept by my side. And all the time he wouldn't let the others come a-nigh me. And see here, Burl, what he gave me," flourishing his old stone hatchet with a new handle before the eyes of the still incredulous Burlman Reynolds. "And this, too," displaying his little coon-skin cap, all splendid with the glory of the war-bird. And with these visible proofs to back it, Bushie wound up his eloquent little appeal.
"Did de young Injun shoot de eagle down yesterday whar you got dem fedders?"