“Hi! hello! ho–o–o!” yelled Butterface, renewing the rough treatment, and finally hitting the youth a sounding slap on the ear.
“Ha! I be tink dat vakes you up.”
It certainly did wake him up. A burst of indignation within seemed to do more for him than the outward buffetings. He shut his fist and hit Butterface a weak but well intended right-hander on the nose. The negro replied with a sounding slap on the other ear, which induced Leo to grasp him in his arms and try to throw him. Butterface returned the grasp with interest, and soon quite an interesting wrestling match began, the only witness of which sat on a neighbouring hummock in the form of a melancholy Arctic fox.
“Hi! hold on, Massa Leo! Don’t kill me altogidder,” shouted Butterface, as he fell beneath his adversary. “You’s a’most right now.”
“Almost right! what do you mean?”
“I mean dat you’s bin a’most froze to deaf, but I’s melted you down to life agin.”
The truth at last began to dawn on the young hunter. After a brief explanation, he and the negro walked home together in perfect harmony.