My usual custom was to hide some article (such as my tomahawk), near the house in Bruno's presence, and then start off on a tramp accompanied by the blacks.
After we had gone a few miles I would suddenly call a halt, and pretend to my companions that I had forgotten something.

Then I would order Bruno to go back and fetch it, with many mysterious whisperings.

The dear, sagacious brute always understood what I wanted him to do, and in the course of perhaps an hour or two he would come and lay the article at my feet, and accept the flattering adulation of my black companions with the utmost calmness and indifference.

Bruno never forgot what was required of him when we encountered a new tribe of blacks.

He would always look to me for his cue, and when he saw me commence my acrobatic feats, he too would go through his little repertoire, barking and tumbling and rolling about with wonderful energy.
His quaint little ways had so endeared him to me that I could not bear to think of anything happening to him.