well enough as far as it goes, Jim,” I says; “but what does _these_ things stand for?” It was the leaves and rubbish on the raft and the smashed oar.  You could see them first-rate now. Jim looked at the trash, and then looked at me, and back at the trash again.  He had got the dream fixed so strong in his head that he couldn't seem to shake it loose and get the facts back into its place again right away.  But when he did get the thing straightened around he looked at me steady without ever smiling, and says: “What do dey stan' for?  I'se gwyne to tell you.  When I got all wore out wid work, en wid de callin' for you, en went to sleep, my heart wuz mos' broke bekase you wuz los', en I didn' k'yer no' mo' what become er me en de raf'.  En when I wake up en fine you back agin, all safe en soun', de tears come, en I could a got down on my knees en kiss yo' foot, I's so thankful. En all you wuz thinkin' 'bout wuz how you could make a fool uv ole Jim wid a lie.  Dat truck dah is _trash_; en trash is what people is dat puts dirt on de head er dey fren's en makes 'em ashamed.” Then he got up slow and walked to the wigwam, and went in there without saying anything but that.  But that was enough.  It made me feel so mean I could almost kissed _his_ foot to get him to take it back. It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to go and humble myself to a nigger; but I done it, and I warn't ever sorry for it afterwards, neither.  I didn't do him no more mean tricks, and I wouldn't done that one if I'd a knowed it would make him feel that way. CHAPTER XVI. WE slept most all day, and started out at night, a little ways behind a monstrous long raft that was as long going by as a procession.  She had four long sweeps at each end, so we judged she carried as many as thirty men, likely.  She had five big wigwams aboard, wide apart, and an open camp fire in the middle, and a tall flag-pole at each end.  There was a power of style about her.  It _amounted_ to someth