But at the first revival of hope my grief had returned.

As they bandaged my eyes I was wishing that they would let me see his grave.

As I followed beside Laputa I told myself that if ever I got free, when the war was over I would go to Inanda's Kraal, find the grave, and put a tombstone over it in memory of the dog that saved my life.

I would also write that the man who shot him was killed on such and such a day at such and such a place by Colin's master.

I wondered why Laputa had not the wits to see the Portugoose's treachery and to let me fight him.