“You got yerself a slave, eh?” the young man said. “Jim ain’t my slave, he’s my friend,” Huck said, sternly. “I see. What’s yer name, boy?” “Huckleberry, but folks calls me Huck. And this here is Jim.” “Yes, I know,” he said. “Your friend.” I was afraid of the men, but I was considerably more afraid of the dogs I’d heard coming our way. I could only imagine that they were after me, and so I was left confused by the presence of these two white men in our boat. Adding to the absurdity was the fact that they were opposite in nearly every way. The older man was very tall and gaunt, while the
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