Mose, with a cry, ran forward to his master's assistance, but when the negro saw him climbing up the bank he suddenly screamed, and hurling the old man from him, turned and fled.
"The fellow must have taken him for the devil when he saw those eyes, and I don't wonder!" Terry interpolated at this point.
After the Colonel's murder, it seems that Mose, crazed by grief and fear, had watched us carry the body away, and then had stayed by the spot where his master had died.

This accounted for the marks on the border of the pool.

Knowing all of the intricate passages and hiding places as he did, it had been an easy matter for him to evade the party that had searched for his body.

He ate the food the murderer had left, but this being exhausted, he would, I haven't a doubt, have died there himself with the unreasoning faithfulness of a dog.
When he finished his rambling and in some places scarcely intelligible account, we sat for a moment with our eyes upon his face, fascinated by his look.

Every bit of repugnance I had ever felt toward him had vanished, and there was left in its place only a sense of pity.