The negro, frightened at the appearance of two strangers, the foremost of whom he recognized as an Indian, had prostrated himself behind the bushes and feigned death in the hope that they would pass him by unnoticed.

The Lieutenant, now that they were so close to the Shawnees, where so much caution and skill were required, felt provoked to see the negro, and had little patience with his fooleries.
"Get up, Cato," said he, rolling him over with his foot.

"You are not hurt, and we don't want to see any of your nonsense." One of the negro's eyes partially opened, and then he commenced yawning, stretching and shoving his feet over the leaves, as though he was just awaking.
"Hebens, golly! but dis nigger is sleepy," said he.

"Hello! dat you, Oonomoo?
And bress my soul, if dar ain't Massa Canfield," he added, rising to his feet.
"How came you here ?" asked Canfield.
"Come here my pussonal self--walked and runn'd most ob de way." "But, we sent you to the settlement.

Why did you not go ?" "Bress your soul, Massa Canfield, I'll bet dar's ten fousand million Injines in de wood, atween us and de settlement.