ain. Perhaps they wanted to learn it first. Bo
sang on and on. The listening audience never moved. Then Horatio
played very softly, and the singer lowered his voice until it became
like a far off echo. When Bo sang like this he often closed his eyes. He
did so now.

The music sank lower and lower, until it died away in a whisper. The boy
ceased singing and opening his eyes gazed about him. Here and there he
imagined he heard a slight rustle in the leaves, but the gray panther
was gone. The frisking rabbits and the capering wolves had vanished. The
red and gray foxes, the awkward bears and the rest of that frolicking
throng had melted back into the shadows. So far as he could peer into
the dim forest he was alone with his faithful friend.

CHAPTER V

GOOD-BYE TO ARKANSAW

"Oh, the wind blows cold and the wind blows raw,
When the night comes on in the Arkansaw--
Yes, the wind blows cold and the snow will fall.
And Bosephus and Horatio must travel through it all."

THE little boy's voice quavered as he sang, and his teeth chattered. It
had been more than two months since he started on his travels with
Horatio, and the October nights, even in southern Arkansaw, were
beginning to be chilly. The night before he had in some way got
separated from his friend's warm furry coat and woke shivering. He
kindled a fire now, singing as he worked, while Horatio touched the
chords of his violin pensively. He did not feel the cold. Nature was
providing him with his winter furs.

"Bo," he said presently, "you'll have to have some heavier clothes.
Either that or we'll have to go farther South. As for me, you know, I
could go to sleep in a hollow tree and not mind the winter, but you
couldn't do it, and I don't intend to, either, this year; we're making
too much money for that."

Bo laughed in spite of the cold and jingled his pockets. They were more
than half full of coin, and he had a good roll of bills in his jacket
besides.

"No," he said; "we are getting along too well. We'll be rich by spring
if we keep right on. I'm thinking, though, that we'll never be able to
get South fast enough if we walk."

"Look here, Bo; you're not thinking about putting me on that cyclone
thing they call a train, are you?"

"Well, not exactly, but yesterday where we performed I heard a fellow
say that there was a river right close here, and steamboats. You
wouldn't mind a steamboat, would you, Ratio?"

"Of course not.