My only, or rather my uppermost, feeling was gladness.
Of course the thought crossed me of what he might do if he
owed the white skins a grudge. If any white man had ever
harmed one of his tribe, I was at his mercy; and it was
certain that he would show me none. He was a tall powerful
man, and in my then condition he could have done what he
pleased with me. Friday was my model; the red man was
Robinson Crusoe. I kneeled at his feet, and touched the
ground with my forehead. He did not seem the least elated by
my humility: there was not a spark of vanity in him.
Indeed, except for its hideousness and brutality, his face
was without expression.
I now proceeded to make a drawing, with my finger, in the
sand, of a mule in the water; while I imitated by pantomime
the struggles of the drowning. I then pointed to myself;
and, using my arms as in swimming, shook my head and my
finger to signify that I could not swim. I worked an
imaginary paddle, and made him understand that I wanted him
to paddle me across the river. Still he remained unmoved;
till finally I used one argument which interested him more
than all the rest of my story. I untied a part of the shirt
round one foot and showed him three gold studs. These I took
out and gave to him.
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