I think you are just a poor human.

I was always powerfully fond of you, Lewis,--and I never could abide a rattler! There's the moon, and it's a long march to-morrow, and folks sit up late in Richmond! Unroll the blankets, and let's to bed." The boy obeyed, and the two lay down with the fire between them.

The man's thoughts went back to the Mississippi, to cane-brakes and bayous and long levees; and the boy's mind perused the road before him.
"When I get to Richmond," he suddenly announced, "I am going to find a place where they sell books.

I have a dollar." The hunter put his hand in his pouch, drew out a shining coin, and tossed it across the fire.

"There's another," he said.