She pointed out to me that, in the first place, the tracks had been made by some one wearing boots, and as the footprints straggled about in a most erratic manner, it was clearly evident that the wearer could not be sane.
Even at this time, be it remembered, I was burning with rage against the whites, and so I decided to follow the tracks and find the individual who was responsible for them.

But do not be under any misapprehension.

My intentions were not philanthropic, but revengeful.

I had become a black- fellow myself now, and was consumed with a black-fellow's murderous passion.

At one time I thought I would follow the whole party, and kill them in the darkness with my stiletto when opportunity offered.
The new tracks we had come upon told me plainly that the party had separated, and were therefore now in my power.