"Well," I said, "I have a bigger boat. I will show it to you to-morrow."
The next morning, therefore, I took him to see the first boat I had made and which I could not get to the water.
He said it was big enough. But it had been lying on the ground for twenty-three years and was rotten.
"We will make a new boat, Friday," I said. "We will make one as big as this. Then you shall go to your old home in it."
He looked very sad.
"Why are you angry with Friday?" he asked. "What has he done?"
I told him that I was not angry, and asked him what he meant.
"Not angry! not angry!" he cried. "Then why do you want to send Friday away to his old home?"
"Why, Friday," I said, "didn"t you say that you wished you were there?"
"Yes, yes," said he. "Friday wishes both were there, but not Friday without his master."
"But what would I do there?" I asked. "I could do nothing."
"Oh, yes, master," he answered very quickly, "You could do much. You could teach wild mans to be tame, to know God, to live right. You could do much."
"No, Friday," I said. "You shall go without me. Leave me here to live by myself as I did before."
He looked very sad. Then all at once he ran and picked up a hatchet. He brought it and gave it to me.
"What shall I do with this?" I asked.
"You take it. Kill Friday," he said.
"Indeed," I said, "and why shall I do that?"
"Then why do you send Friday away?" he said "Better kill than send away."
The tears stood in his eyes as he spoke. I saw that he loved me and would always stand by me.
So I told him that I would never, never send him away, and that he should always stay with me.