d."

Dick paused for breath, and Crusoe wagged his tail and looked as if to
say--pshaw! "_as if!_"

We tell you what it is, reader, it's of no use at all to go on writing
"as if," when we tell you what Crusoe said. If there is any language
in eyes whatever--if there is language in a tail, in a cocked ear, in
a mobile eyebrow, in the point of a canine nose,--if there is language
in any terrestrial thing at all, apart from that which flows from the
tongue, then Crusoe _spoke!_ Do we not speak at this moment to _you?_
and if so, then tell me wherein lies the difference between a written
_letter_ and a given _sign?_

Yes, Crusoe spoke. He said to Dick as plain as dog could say it,
slowly and emphatically, "That's my opinion precisely, Dick. You're
the dearest, most beloved, jolliest fellow that ever walked on two
legs, you are; and whatever's your opinion is mine, no matter _how_
absurd it may be."

Dick evidently understood him perfectly, for he laughed as he looked
at him and patted him on the head, and called him a "funny dog." Then
he continued his discourse:--

"Yes, pup, we'll make our camp here for a long bit, old dog, in this
beautiful plain. We'll make a willow wigwam to sleep in, you and I,
jist in yon clump o' trees, not a stone's-throw to our right, where
we'll have a run o' pure water beside us, and be near our buffalo at
the same time. For, ye see, we'll need to watch him lest the wolves
take a notion to eat him--that'll be _your_ duty, pup. Then I'll skin
him when I get strong enough, which'll be in a day or two, I hope, and
we'll put one-half of the skin below us and t'other half above us
i' the camp, an' sleep, an' eat, an' take it easy for a week or
two--won't we, pup?"

"Hoora-a-a-y!" shouted Crusoe, with a jovial wag of his tail, that no
human arm with hat, or cap, or kerchief ever equalled.

Poor Dick Varley! He smiled to think how earnestly he had been talking
to the dog; but he did not cease to do it, for although he entered
into discourses the drift of which Crusoe's limited education did not
permit him to follow, he found comfort in hearing the sound of his own
voice, and in knowing that it fell pleasantly on another ear in that
lonely wilderness.

Our hero now set about his preparations as vigorously as he could. He
cut out the buffalo's tongue--a matter of great difficulty to one in
his weak state--and carried it to a pleasant spot near to the stream
where the turf was level and green,