The sportsmen who engaged the latter's services were generally averse to
the creature's presence with the party, lest he should scare their game.
Cyrus and Neal bade him a pathetic farewell, remembering the exciting
fun he had given them with the raccoon. Dol sent him lots of approving
messages, which were duly delivered, with rough pats and shakes, by
Uncle Eb, who fully believed that the brute understood every word of
them. Indeed, the sign language of Tiger's expressive tail confirmed
this opinion.
Dol had remained at the log camp with his new friends, Dr. Phil thinking
it well that he should rest his feet until the morning of the start. His
brother promised to bring his knapsack and rifle to the settler's
cabin. Uncle Eb repossessed himself of his shot-gun, pouch, and
powder-horn, which he carried back to his hut, and left under Tiger's
protection, telling Dol that "if he wanted to bag any more black ducks
he'd have to give 'em a dose wid de rifle, for he warn't a-goin' to lug
dat ole fuzzee t'rough de woods."
It was the perfection of an October morning, sunshiny and pleasant, with
a mellow freshness in the air which matched the mellow tints of the
forest, when the travellers joined forces at the farm-settlement.
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