and says: “What do dey stan' for?  I'se gwyne to tell you.  When I got all wore out wid work, en wid de callin' for you, en went to sleep, my heart wuz mos' broke bekase you wuz los', en I didn' k'yer no' mo' what become er me en de raf'.  En when I wake up en fine you back agin, all safe en soun', de tears come, en I could a got down on my knees en kiss yo' foot, I's so thankful. En all you wuz thinkin' 'bout wuz how you could make a fool uv ole Jim wid a lie.  Dat truck dah is _trash_; en trash is what people is dat puts dirt on de head er dey fren's en makes 'em ashamed.” Then he got up slow and walked to the wigwam, and went in there without saying anything but that.  But that was enough.  It made me feel so mean I could almost kissed _his_ foot to get him to take it back. It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to go and humble myself to a nigger; but I done it, and I warn't ever sorry for it afterwards, neither.  I didn't do him no more mean tricks, and I wouldn't done that one if I'd a knowed it would make him feel that way. CHAPTER XVI. WE slept most all day, and started out at night, a little ways behind a monstrous long raft that was as long going by as a procession.  She had four long sweeps at each end, so we judged she carried as many as thirty men, likely.  She had five big wigwams aboard, wide apart, and an open camp fire in the middle, and a tall flag-pole at each end.  There was a power of style about her.  It _amounted_ to something being a raftsman on such a craft as that. We went drifting down into a big bend, and the night clouded up and got hot.  The river was very wide, and was walled with solid timber on both sides; you couldn't see a break in it hardly ever, or a light.  We talked about Cairo, and wondered whether we would know it when we got to it.  I said likely we wouldn't, because I had heard say there warn't but about a dozen houses there, and if they didn't happen to have them lit up, how was we going to know we