Chapter Four.

Chapter Four.Dio in hiding—The agent of the Swampyville Land Company—The surveying party—Mr Tidey and the slave set off northward—Living in a state of siege—Unexpected return of Mr McDermont and Peter—An imaginary city—An offer to purchase Uphill—Our tutor’s sudden return—Dio nearly recaptured—In the cave—An expected attack—Dan and I start off to relieve the slave—Boxer discovers an enemy—A brave dog—Our retreat to the house—Sleepy Peter—Just in time—Prepare for action.The first thing now to be done was to send poor Dio away, as my father had previously intended. He was strong enough to bear the journey, but when he was told that it would be necessary for him to go, he looked so miserable that we all begged that he might be allowed to remain.“I much regret having to send him off, but for his own sake as well as ours, go he must,” answered my father; “he shall be escorted until he is delivered into the safe keeping of our friends, the Greys, though there is a risk of his being suspected, should he be seen in my company.”“Let me take charge of him, then,” said Mr Tidey; “we will make our way through the forest by unfrequented paths with rifles in our hands as if on a shooting expedition, and shall run little risk of falling in with anyone who will interfere with us.”Our tutor’s offer was accepted. My father wrote a letter to Mr Grey, introducing him, at the same time so carefully worded, that, should it fall into the hands of enemies, Dio might not be betrayed.It was arranged that they should start the following morning. The poor negro was overcome with grief when he heard what was decided.“Dis poor niggar break him heart leave Missy Kathleen, him no more learn read!” he exclaimed, bursting into tears. So powerful was the effect produced that he was taken seriously ill, and the next morning was utterly unable to proceed. I am sure he was not shamming, for he tried to get up and prepare for his journey. He recovered somewhat during the day, and acknowledging that it was his duty to go for the sake of our family, declared that he should be ready to start whenever Mr Tidey wished.That evening a report was brought to the house by one of the farm-labourers that two suspicious characters had been seen in the neighbourhood, and from the description of the men we had no doubt that they were the same who had before paid us a visit and had been driven off by Biddy’s heroism.On hearing this, Uncle Denis offered to go out to try and ascertain what they were about. I begged to accompany him. We hunted round in all directions, and were returning home when we caught sight of two persons skulking in a wood at a short distance from the house. On seeing us they beat a rapid retreat, and darkness coming on they managed to get away before we could overtake them, but Uncle Denis was of opinion that they were watching the house in the hopes of catching Dio.This surmise was ultimately proved to be correct, showing that by some means or other they had information that he was still with us. My father, fearing that the black would be followed and recaptured, determined to postpone sending him off for two or three days; hoping in the meantime to mislead the slave-hunters and make them suppose that Dio had escaped. We took good care during this time not to leave the house unguarded, my father, Uncle Denis, or Mr Tidey remaining at home with either Dan or me as well as Biddy and Peter while the windows, unless some one was on the watch near them, were kept closed and barred. Our guest, accompanied by one or more of the party, made excursions in the direction my father thought he would most probably find a location, but he could hear of no farm at all likely to answer his purpose. His object soon became known, and the fourth morning after his arrival a stranger was seen approaching the house. He introduced himself as Mr Nicholas Chouse, agent for the Swampyville Land Company.In the most glowing terms he described the new township which had been lately formed in the north-west part of the state, advising my father and Mr McDermont to become purchasers of the finest allotments which he had to offer for sale. Mr Chouse was a man of great volubility of tongue, unbounded assurance, with a look of determination which showed that he would not have his word doubted.“These lands, sir, will become the most valuable in the State, I may say, with perfect confidence, in the whole Union; unrivalled water power, magnificent pastures and arable land capable of producing crops of corn such as the world has never seen. All that is required to develop their resources is capital and labour, and labour will always follow where capital leads the way. When once the country is opened up, we shall drain Canada of her population, and the inhabitants of the eastern states will come flocking in crowds, some to find employment, others to purchase the lots improved by the early settlers, paying a thousand per cent at least on the capital expended. You, sir, look like a man who would not neglect so favourable an opportunity of realising a fortune vastly surpassing that of the proudest duke in England,” he said, turning to Mr McDermont.Our guest listened with eager ears. If only half what Mr Chouse said was true, it would be well worth his while at all events to inspect the country. If he found it even moderately answer the account given, though contrary to his previous intention, he might wisely become a purchaser.The land agent, seeing that he made some impression, pressed home his advantage. I cannot repeat all he said, but he finally succeeded in inducing Mr McDermont to invest in a small allotment with the right of purchasing as much more of the surrounding country as he could desire. Had it not been for Dio, my father or uncle would have accompanied him, but they were unwilling to leave Uphill while there was a risk of annoyance from the slave-hunters. It was finally arranged that Mr McDermont should set out with Peter, who was well used to travelling, and would be of great assistance to him. Mr Chouse had given him maps of the country and a plan of the township, so that he would have no difficulty in finding the location of which he had become the happy possessor for the sum of two hundred dollars, which had been paid into the agent’s hands. As Mr McDermont and Peter set off in one direction, the agent departed in another, observing, “that he had a round to make, and would rejoin Mr McDermont at Swampyville.”We had some hope that Peter being seen to leave Uphill might mislead any of the Kentuckians who were on the watch; that should they follow him, Dio might have a better opportunity of escaping.Accordingly, the next morning, before daybreak, habited as a hunter, with a knapsack on his back, a gun in his hand, a broad-brimmed hat completely shading his face, he and Mr Tidey set out on their journey northward. All the family were up to see them off, and we offered up a prayer for their safety. Dan and I wanted to accompany them, but our father pointed out that it might be dangerous to do so, as, should any of the people on the watch for Dio meet us coming back, they might suspect the direction the travellers had taken, and follow them up.We lived literally in a state of siege, for every day information was brought us that suspected persons were hovering about, and it was evident that Mr Bracher’s emissaries had not given up hope of recapturing the fugitive.Some days passed away. Uncle Denis grew impatient, he was naturally anxious to return to his farm, and yet was unwilling to leave my father and mother while matters remained in this unpleasant state. My father was as firm as at first in his resolution not to allow any persons to enter his house without his permission, and it was impossible to say when we might receive another visit from the fellows who had before tried to force themselves in. Should he now permit them to enter, they would naturally conclude that the slave had been concealed in the house, though he had now made good his escape.We did not expect to see Mr Tidey for some time, should he have succeeded in conveying Dio to a safe asylum, nor was it likely that Mr McDermont would return until he had made arrangements for locating himself on his new purchase. He would, however, certainly send back his companion to report the progress he had made. Great was our surprise, therefore, when one evening, soon after dark, he and Peter arrived at the house, looking travel-stained and weary.“I hope you are satisfied with Swampyville?” said my father, after he had welcomed our friend.“Faith, sir, I should be an easily pleased gentleman if I was,” answered Mr McDermont. “I’ve been thoroughly gulled by that fellow Chouse. As it was my first, so it shall be my last journey in search of a new location. I won’t trouble you with an account of all the adventures we met with. For the first two or three days we got on pretty well, barring the rough accommodation and the rougher inhabitants of this wild country. I thought we must have taken the wrong road. Nothing could I hear of Swampyville, although the map showed me that we were pursuing the right course. At last we arrived at a river which I guessed fell into the mighty Missouri, but our location was some way farther down. Accordingly, leaving our horses, I hired a boat, in the expectation of reaching it more easily by water than by land. Faith, sir, I was not wrong in that respect. The plan showed me a fine city, rising on the banks of the stream, with broad, handsome streets running at right angles to each other, a court-house, gaol, two banks, three or four hotels, masonic hall, and churches and chapels innumerable, proving what a moral and religious people were to be my neighbours. At length I reached the spot where the city should have been, but the water had risen and had, I concluded, flowed over the whole, for not a building of any sort could I discover. Certain well defined land-marks existed, and I could make out that I was in the midst of Swampyville, but not a trace could I discover of the property of which I had become the happy possessor. I stood up and gazed round me in despair. ‘Yes, massa,’ said Peter, letting his oars drop from his hands, ‘dis Swampyville, no doubt ’bout dat, only de houses and de streets not here, much easier to draw dem on de paper dan to build dem up.’ Peter was right; I had been bamboozled and lost my dollars.”“You must not be cast down, my friend,” said my father, “you are not the only person who has been taken in in the same manner. There is however, no lack of first-rate localities in the country, both for cities and towns, or of arable and pasture land. It will be a lesson to all of us not to purchase property until we have visited the spot and ascertained its value.”“I’m half inclined to go back to ould Ireland, where, although a landlord gets shot now and then, and the people are not always as peaceable as might be desired, honest labourers can be obtained for money, if not for love, and the land is free from the curse of slavery. If, however, I could find an estate in tolerably good order, such as yours for instance, I would become the purchaser, and settle down in this new world of yours. The dollars paid to Mr Chouse are lost, but I have still enough money left to buy and cultivate a fair-sized property.”“Are you in earnest, Mr McDermont?” asked my father; “if you are, and would like to buy Uphill, I will consider the matter. I had no thoughts of leaving the place, but circumstances may occur which might induce me to part with it.”“Never was more in earnest in my life,” said our guest. “I should have wished to be your neighbour rather than your successor, but if you have a mind to sell, I am ready to buy.”My father and Uncle Denis talked the matter over. To our surprise, my uncle said that he had had an offer for his farm and had made up his mind to accept it, and that if we moved west he would accompany us. My mother, however was very unwilling to leave Uphill. We had all been born there, and she and all of us were attached to the place.Mr McDermont appeared to be in no great hurry, and told my father that he would give him a week to decide.That very evening as we were sitting down to supper, a knock was heard at the door, which was kept barred and bolted since the visit from the Kentuckians. My father, thinking that they had possibly returned, got up, and, taking his rifle in his hand, went to the door.“Who knocks?” he asked.“Mark Tidey,” was the answer. “Quick, quick, let me in.”My father, recognising our tutor’s voice, withdrew the bolts. Mr Tidey entered, looking pale and thoroughly knocked up, his dress torn and bespattered with mud.“What has happened, Mr Tidey?” asked my father; “has poor Dio been recaptured?”“We will close the door first, and I will then tell you, sir,” answered the Dominie, hurriedly pushing back the bolts. “I have been pursued, and before long the villains will be here, if I mistake not.”“We will be ready for them if they come, and teach them a lesson they’ll not forget in a hurry,” said my father.“Oh! Mr Tidey, has poor Dio been retaken?” asked my mother, as he sank into a chair at the table.“I hope not, and indeed I have good reason to believe that he has escaped them,” replied our tutor. “I fully expected to carry him safe to his destination, when, as we were making our way through a forest the second day after leaving this, I heard the bay of a hound, which I felt sure by the sound was one of those accursed dogs, used by the slave-owners to track runaway negroes. Dio heard it also and gave himself up for lost. I fortunately knew the country we were in, for I had visited it several times during my shooting excursions, and I remembered some rocky ground away to the left in which I had discovered a cave, the entrance concealed by a thick mass of brushwood. I had taken shelter there during a storm, and had spent the time in exploring it. It was perfectly dry, with several passages leading to smaller caverns, in which fifty men might lie concealed, with little risk of being discovered by a stranger to the place. I at once bethought me, if we could reach it we might be safe from pursuit, and remain there until the slave-hunters had passed by.“We were making our way towards it, when the increasing loudness of the hound’s voice convinced us that we could not reach it before we should be overtaken. Had there been two dogs, I should have told Dio to remain with me, but as there was but one I determined to tackle the brute, and directed him to hurry on to the cavern, where I should join him. Scarcely had he disappeared in the brushwood, than the dog came in sight, with its nose to the ground, following up our trail. Its masters must be, I guessed, close behind. Lifting my rifle, as the hound was a dozen paces from me, I fired. Its loud baying ceased, and over it rolled with its legs kicking in the air. Feeling sure that it was done for, I turned and ran, having just time to get behind some thick bushes, when the Kentuckians reached the spot where the dog lay dead. I could hear their loud oaths and execrations on the man who had shot their animal. They seemed puzzled as to who had done the deed, and vowed vengeance on his head should they catch him, whoever he was. Presently I heard their footsteps pass close by. I had had no time to reload, so had they discovered me I should have been in their power. I determined, however, to have a fight for it rather than become their prisoner, or allow myself to be murdered on the spot. It was very evident that they had no experience as backwoodsmen, or they would have discovered my trail. They had been depending on their dog, and were now completely at fault.“‘He must have run that way, and can’t have got far, for I heard the shot not five minutes ago,’ exclaimed one of them.“‘On, on, we shall soon overtake him, whoever he is.’ These words greatly relieved my mind and I felt sure, from the sounds which reached my ears, that they were hurrying on to the northward. As soon as I calculated that they were out of sight, I made my way towards the cavern. I found Dio crouching down at the entrance.“‘We will hide until to-morrow morning and then pursue our course,’ I whispered. ‘By that time the Kentuckians will probably have turned back and given up the pursuit, as it is very clear they can do nothing without their dog.’“Dio agreed to this, and by searching about we soon discovered a hollow in which we could remain concealed until the following morning, when I proposed going out first to ascertain whether the coast was clear. There was abundance of dry wood not far from the mouth of the cavern. We soon collected enough to keep up a fire during the night, and in the spot we had chosen there was no fear of its reflection being seen outside. It served to cook our provisions and at the same time scare off any wolves or bears who might visit us. We were not disturbed, however, during the night, although nearly stifled with the smoke from the small fire we kept up. According to my intention, soon after daylight the next morning, I alone first went out to reconnoitre. Fortunate it was that I did so, for on reaching the edge of the forest I found the fire still burning where our pursuers had camped, and I had little doubt that they were watching for the man who had killed their hound. I therefore turned back, so that I could keep concealed among the trees, and before long I caught sight of them in the distance. This showed me that it would be prudent to remain in our cavern another day, until the fellows had got weary of looking for me. I was thankful that they had no Indians with them, or they would have tracked me without difficulty. In the afternoon I again went out, making my way cautiously, lest I should come upon them. I had made up my mind to proceed by myself some way to the northward until I could reach a settler’s hut, from whom I could learn whether the Kentuckians had gone on or turned back again, when I caught sight of them in the distance, making apparently for the very spot where they had rested the previous night. They had evidently ascertained from someone or other that the black and I had not gone that way. My only course was to return to the cave and to remain there in the hopes of tiring out our pursuers. Though they were determined fellows, they knew nothing of the country, and were completely at fault without their hound.“As we had plenty of provisions, we could remain another whole day, by which time I hoped to find the coast clear. Once more I went out, leaving my knapsack with Dio, and taking only my rifle and ammunition. Instead of following the path I had pursued on previous occasions, I made a circuit to the right towards a hill, from whence I expected to catch sight of the spot where the Kentuckians had camped. Should I see no smoke ascending, I might hope that they had abandoned the search and gone homewards. I had nearly reached it, and was proceeding perhaps with less caution than before, when I came full in sight of the fellows. I knew them at once, and was still more convinced who they were by hearing a ball whistle past my ears. Although I might have shot one of them in return, I had no wish to take the life of a fellow-creature, but determined to trust to my heels. Off I set therefore as fast as I could run, and calculated that I knew the country better than they did, and that I could keep well ahead, thus drawing them away from Dio’s hiding-place. My intention was afterwards to return, and, together with the black, to continue the journey. On they came after me, and I could hear their voices shouting for many a mile, showing that they were still following. I have never had such a run in my life, but I have the satisfaction of believing that I have assisted Dio to make good his escape, and if they come here, you will be able to assure them that you have no slave concealed within your doors.”My father highly approved of Mr Tidey’s conduct and the courage and judgment he had exhibited. We had now to consider the best way of relieving Dio, who was certain to remain in the cave until some one came from us. Mr Tidey was too much knocked up to set off immediately, so my father gave Dan and me permission to start away by daylight. By taking a circuitous course, we hoped to avoid the risk of meeting the Kentuckians, should they be still on the watch for the black. We were to try and reach the cave by nightfall, which, as we knew the spot and the country thoroughly, we expected easily to do. We were looking out all the evening for a visit from Mr Tidey’s pursuers, but for some cause or other they did not appear; had they done so, we were prepared to give them a warm reception. Besides our guest and Uncle Denis, our father, Dan and I, we had in the house, Martin Prentis the overseer, and Peter, all of whom were well able to handle their rifles, while Biddy was as likely to make as good a fight of it as anyone of us with her broomstick or a hot poker, which she had kept in the stove for the purpose.The evening, however, passed away without any disturbance, although we two or three times heard the dogs barking in the huts of the farm-labourers, while our own animals in the outbuildings barked in return. Dan and I got ready for our journey before we lay down to sleep. Fancying that it was time to start, without waiting for daylight, we called up Peter to let us out, but we did not arouse the rest of the family. We agreed to breakfast when we had got some miles from home, and by making an early start we felt confident that we could perform the distance easily before sunset.“Massa, don’t let those white niggers catch you. Better dat Boxer go wid you, he take care if dey come near to let you know. Dey no catch him asleep,” said Peter, as with candle in hand, a red night-cap, and his striped pink shirt-tails fluttering about his legs, he opened the door for us to go out.“Never fear, Peter, we will keep a sharp look-out for the Kentuckians,” answered Dan; “if they show fight, we shall be ready for them; we know how to shoot as well as they do.”Following Peter’s advice, we went to the stables and released Boxer, who leaped round and round, trying to lick our faces with pleasure at the thought of a day’s sport, which he supposed we were about to give him. We had our knapsacks on our backs with our usual camp traps, besides a good supply of provisions, as we must remain out one night, and should probably have to stay with Dio until Mr Tidey could return to escort him on his journey. We had not proceeded more than two or three hundred yards when Boxer gave a low growl, and then breaking into a fierce bark, dashed forward.“Curse that dog, he’ll be waking up the people, and may be fixing his fangs into the throat of one of us,” exclaimed some one in a gruff voice, who was concealed apparently behind a snake fence some little way off.“I’ll stick my bowie-knife into him, if he comes near me,” said another person.Dan was about to cry out and call the dog back, but I stopped him in time.“Keep silence!” I whispered, “those must be the Kentuckians; they are on the watch, probably intending to make a rush for the door when Biddy opens it in the morning, hoping to surprise the rest of the family in bed. The best thing we can do is to go back and let our father know what we have discovered: crouch down so that they may not see us. I suppose they have been creeping forward to get close up to the house without being discovered.”The loud barking of the dog prevented any risk of my voice being heard, which, low as I spoke, it might have been in the still night air. The men, whoever they were, did not fire, probably because they could not catch sight of Boxer, who was rushing from side to side, concealed among some low shrubs and thick grass. I hoped when he found that we were returning, he would also retreat and avoid the risk he was running of being shot.We hurried back, Boxer still keeping up his barking, preventing our footsteps being heard.“But I am afraid poor Boxer will be shot,” said Dan.“No fear of that; the men, if they wish to surprise us, won’t venture to fire,” I observed, “and if we call him it will show them that they have been discovered; better let him take his chance, he understands what he is about. While he keeps up his barking, the sound of the door opening will not be heard.”We accordingly crept back towards the house, but on reaching it found that Peter had closed the door, and we had to make our way round to the window of the room in which he slept. We tapped on the shutter, but Peter did not answer.“He has fallen asleep again, the lazy fellow!” said Dan in a low voice.We knocked louder and louder.“Who dare?” at length asked a voice from within.“Open the window and I will tell you,” I said in a whisper, but sufficiently loud for Peter to hear me, I hoped.“Who dare?” he again asked.“Open the window, quick, quick,” I repeated, putting my mouth to the chink where the shutters joined.“What! Massa Mike!” exclaimed Peter, “is dat you?”“Yes, yes, open at once,” I answered, almost losing patience and speaking louder than I had hitherto done.At that moment Boxer had ceased barking. Scarcely had the words left my mouth than I feared that we might have been heard by the Kentuckians.Boxer again burst out into a furious bark, very much nearer to us, showing that he was retreating before the foe. By this time Peter had opened the shutter, and, assisted by the black, Dan and I scrambled in at the window. As we did so we heard footsteps, when Boxer, who was a prudent dog, as well as a brave one, feeling that he had done his duty in warning us and should be safer inside the citadel than outside, with one bound followed us into the room.

The first thing now to be done was to send poor Dio away, as my father had previously intended. He was strong enough to bear the journey, but when he was told that it would be necessary for him to go, he looked so miserable that we all begged that he might be allowed to remain.

“I much regret having to send him off, but for his own sake as well as ours, go he must,” answered my father; “he shall be escorted until he is delivered into the safe keeping of our friends, the Greys, though there is a risk of his being suspected, should he be seen in my company.”

“Let me take charge of him, then,” said Mr Tidey; “we will make our way through the forest by unfrequented paths with rifles in our hands as if on a shooting expedition, and shall run little risk of falling in with anyone who will interfere with us.”

Our tutor’s offer was accepted. My father wrote a letter to Mr Grey, introducing him, at the same time so carefully worded, that, should it fall into the hands of enemies, Dio might not be betrayed.

It was arranged that they should start the following morning. The poor negro was overcome with grief when he heard what was decided.

“Dis poor niggar break him heart leave Missy Kathleen, him no more learn read!” he exclaimed, bursting into tears. So powerful was the effect produced that he was taken seriously ill, and the next morning was utterly unable to proceed. I am sure he was not shamming, for he tried to get up and prepare for his journey. He recovered somewhat during the day, and acknowledging that it was his duty to go for the sake of our family, declared that he should be ready to start whenever Mr Tidey wished.

That evening a report was brought to the house by one of the farm-labourers that two suspicious characters had been seen in the neighbourhood, and from the description of the men we had no doubt that they were the same who had before paid us a visit and had been driven off by Biddy’s heroism.

On hearing this, Uncle Denis offered to go out to try and ascertain what they were about. I begged to accompany him. We hunted round in all directions, and were returning home when we caught sight of two persons skulking in a wood at a short distance from the house. On seeing us they beat a rapid retreat, and darkness coming on they managed to get away before we could overtake them, but Uncle Denis was of opinion that they were watching the house in the hopes of catching Dio.

This surmise was ultimately proved to be correct, showing that by some means or other they had information that he was still with us. My father, fearing that the black would be followed and recaptured, determined to postpone sending him off for two or three days; hoping in the meantime to mislead the slave-hunters and make them suppose that Dio had escaped. We took good care during this time not to leave the house unguarded, my father, Uncle Denis, or Mr Tidey remaining at home with either Dan or me as well as Biddy and Peter while the windows, unless some one was on the watch near them, were kept closed and barred. Our guest, accompanied by one or more of the party, made excursions in the direction my father thought he would most probably find a location, but he could hear of no farm at all likely to answer his purpose. His object soon became known, and the fourth morning after his arrival a stranger was seen approaching the house. He introduced himself as Mr Nicholas Chouse, agent for the Swampyville Land Company.

In the most glowing terms he described the new township which had been lately formed in the north-west part of the state, advising my father and Mr McDermont to become purchasers of the finest allotments which he had to offer for sale. Mr Chouse was a man of great volubility of tongue, unbounded assurance, with a look of determination which showed that he would not have his word doubted.

“These lands, sir, will become the most valuable in the State, I may say, with perfect confidence, in the whole Union; unrivalled water power, magnificent pastures and arable land capable of producing crops of corn such as the world has never seen. All that is required to develop their resources is capital and labour, and labour will always follow where capital leads the way. When once the country is opened up, we shall drain Canada of her population, and the inhabitants of the eastern states will come flocking in crowds, some to find employment, others to purchase the lots improved by the early settlers, paying a thousand per cent at least on the capital expended. You, sir, look like a man who would not neglect so favourable an opportunity of realising a fortune vastly surpassing that of the proudest duke in England,” he said, turning to Mr McDermont.

Our guest listened with eager ears. If only half what Mr Chouse said was true, it would be well worth his while at all events to inspect the country. If he found it even moderately answer the account given, though contrary to his previous intention, he might wisely become a purchaser.

The land agent, seeing that he made some impression, pressed home his advantage. I cannot repeat all he said, but he finally succeeded in inducing Mr McDermont to invest in a small allotment with the right of purchasing as much more of the surrounding country as he could desire. Had it not been for Dio, my father or uncle would have accompanied him, but they were unwilling to leave Uphill while there was a risk of annoyance from the slave-hunters. It was finally arranged that Mr McDermont should set out with Peter, who was well used to travelling, and would be of great assistance to him. Mr Chouse had given him maps of the country and a plan of the township, so that he would have no difficulty in finding the location of which he had become the happy possessor for the sum of two hundred dollars, which had been paid into the agent’s hands. As Mr McDermont and Peter set off in one direction, the agent departed in another, observing, “that he had a round to make, and would rejoin Mr McDermont at Swampyville.”

We had some hope that Peter being seen to leave Uphill might mislead any of the Kentuckians who were on the watch; that should they follow him, Dio might have a better opportunity of escaping.

Accordingly, the next morning, before daybreak, habited as a hunter, with a knapsack on his back, a gun in his hand, a broad-brimmed hat completely shading his face, he and Mr Tidey set out on their journey northward. All the family were up to see them off, and we offered up a prayer for their safety. Dan and I wanted to accompany them, but our father pointed out that it might be dangerous to do so, as, should any of the people on the watch for Dio meet us coming back, they might suspect the direction the travellers had taken, and follow them up.

We lived literally in a state of siege, for every day information was brought us that suspected persons were hovering about, and it was evident that Mr Bracher’s emissaries had not given up hope of recapturing the fugitive.

Some days passed away. Uncle Denis grew impatient, he was naturally anxious to return to his farm, and yet was unwilling to leave my father and mother while matters remained in this unpleasant state. My father was as firm as at first in his resolution not to allow any persons to enter his house without his permission, and it was impossible to say when we might receive another visit from the fellows who had before tried to force themselves in. Should he now permit them to enter, they would naturally conclude that the slave had been concealed in the house, though he had now made good his escape.

We did not expect to see Mr Tidey for some time, should he have succeeded in conveying Dio to a safe asylum, nor was it likely that Mr McDermont would return until he had made arrangements for locating himself on his new purchase. He would, however, certainly send back his companion to report the progress he had made. Great was our surprise, therefore, when one evening, soon after dark, he and Peter arrived at the house, looking travel-stained and weary.

“I hope you are satisfied with Swampyville?” said my father, after he had welcomed our friend.

“Faith, sir, I should be an easily pleased gentleman if I was,” answered Mr McDermont. “I’ve been thoroughly gulled by that fellow Chouse. As it was my first, so it shall be my last journey in search of a new location. I won’t trouble you with an account of all the adventures we met with. For the first two or three days we got on pretty well, barring the rough accommodation and the rougher inhabitants of this wild country. I thought we must have taken the wrong road. Nothing could I hear of Swampyville, although the map showed me that we were pursuing the right course. At last we arrived at a river which I guessed fell into the mighty Missouri, but our location was some way farther down. Accordingly, leaving our horses, I hired a boat, in the expectation of reaching it more easily by water than by land. Faith, sir, I was not wrong in that respect. The plan showed me a fine city, rising on the banks of the stream, with broad, handsome streets running at right angles to each other, a court-house, gaol, two banks, three or four hotels, masonic hall, and churches and chapels innumerable, proving what a moral and religious people were to be my neighbours. At length I reached the spot where the city should have been, but the water had risen and had, I concluded, flowed over the whole, for not a building of any sort could I discover. Certain well defined land-marks existed, and I could make out that I was in the midst of Swampyville, but not a trace could I discover of the property of which I had become the happy possessor. I stood up and gazed round me in despair. ‘Yes, massa,’ said Peter, letting his oars drop from his hands, ‘dis Swampyville, no doubt ’bout dat, only de houses and de streets not here, much easier to draw dem on de paper dan to build dem up.’ Peter was right; I had been bamboozled and lost my dollars.”

“You must not be cast down, my friend,” said my father, “you are not the only person who has been taken in in the same manner. There is however, no lack of first-rate localities in the country, both for cities and towns, or of arable and pasture land. It will be a lesson to all of us not to purchase property until we have visited the spot and ascertained its value.”

“I’m half inclined to go back to ould Ireland, where, although a landlord gets shot now and then, and the people are not always as peaceable as might be desired, honest labourers can be obtained for money, if not for love, and the land is free from the curse of slavery. If, however, I could find an estate in tolerably good order, such as yours for instance, I would become the purchaser, and settle down in this new world of yours. The dollars paid to Mr Chouse are lost, but I have still enough money left to buy and cultivate a fair-sized property.”

“Are you in earnest, Mr McDermont?” asked my father; “if you are, and would like to buy Uphill, I will consider the matter. I had no thoughts of leaving the place, but circumstances may occur which might induce me to part with it.”

“Never was more in earnest in my life,” said our guest. “I should have wished to be your neighbour rather than your successor, but if you have a mind to sell, I am ready to buy.”

My father and Uncle Denis talked the matter over. To our surprise, my uncle said that he had had an offer for his farm and had made up his mind to accept it, and that if we moved west he would accompany us. My mother, however was very unwilling to leave Uphill. We had all been born there, and she and all of us were attached to the place.

Mr McDermont appeared to be in no great hurry, and told my father that he would give him a week to decide.

That very evening as we were sitting down to supper, a knock was heard at the door, which was kept barred and bolted since the visit from the Kentuckians. My father, thinking that they had possibly returned, got up, and, taking his rifle in his hand, went to the door.

“Who knocks?” he asked.

“Mark Tidey,” was the answer. “Quick, quick, let me in.”

My father, recognising our tutor’s voice, withdrew the bolts. Mr Tidey entered, looking pale and thoroughly knocked up, his dress torn and bespattered with mud.

“What has happened, Mr Tidey?” asked my father; “has poor Dio been recaptured?”

“We will close the door first, and I will then tell you, sir,” answered the Dominie, hurriedly pushing back the bolts. “I have been pursued, and before long the villains will be here, if I mistake not.”

“We will be ready for them if they come, and teach them a lesson they’ll not forget in a hurry,” said my father.

“Oh! Mr Tidey, has poor Dio been retaken?” asked my mother, as he sank into a chair at the table.

“I hope not, and indeed I have good reason to believe that he has escaped them,” replied our tutor. “I fully expected to carry him safe to his destination, when, as we were making our way through a forest the second day after leaving this, I heard the bay of a hound, which I felt sure by the sound was one of those accursed dogs, used by the slave-owners to track runaway negroes. Dio heard it also and gave himself up for lost. I fortunately knew the country we were in, for I had visited it several times during my shooting excursions, and I remembered some rocky ground away to the left in which I had discovered a cave, the entrance concealed by a thick mass of brushwood. I had taken shelter there during a storm, and had spent the time in exploring it. It was perfectly dry, with several passages leading to smaller caverns, in which fifty men might lie concealed, with little risk of being discovered by a stranger to the place. I at once bethought me, if we could reach it we might be safe from pursuit, and remain there until the slave-hunters had passed by.

“We were making our way towards it, when the increasing loudness of the hound’s voice convinced us that we could not reach it before we should be overtaken. Had there been two dogs, I should have told Dio to remain with me, but as there was but one I determined to tackle the brute, and directed him to hurry on to the cavern, where I should join him. Scarcely had he disappeared in the brushwood, than the dog came in sight, with its nose to the ground, following up our trail. Its masters must be, I guessed, close behind. Lifting my rifle, as the hound was a dozen paces from me, I fired. Its loud baying ceased, and over it rolled with its legs kicking in the air. Feeling sure that it was done for, I turned and ran, having just time to get behind some thick bushes, when the Kentuckians reached the spot where the dog lay dead. I could hear their loud oaths and execrations on the man who had shot their animal. They seemed puzzled as to who had done the deed, and vowed vengeance on his head should they catch him, whoever he was. Presently I heard their footsteps pass close by. I had had no time to reload, so had they discovered me I should have been in their power. I determined, however, to have a fight for it rather than become their prisoner, or allow myself to be murdered on the spot. It was very evident that they had no experience as backwoodsmen, or they would have discovered my trail. They had been depending on their dog, and were now completely at fault.

“‘He must have run that way, and can’t have got far, for I heard the shot not five minutes ago,’ exclaimed one of them.

“‘On, on, we shall soon overtake him, whoever he is.’ These words greatly relieved my mind and I felt sure, from the sounds which reached my ears, that they were hurrying on to the northward. As soon as I calculated that they were out of sight, I made my way towards the cavern. I found Dio crouching down at the entrance.

“‘We will hide until to-morrow morning and then pursue our course,’ I whispered. ‘By that time the Kentuckians will probably have turned back and given up the pursuit, as it is very clear they can do nothing without their dog.’

“Dio agreed to this, and by searching about we soon discovered a hollow in which we could remain concealed until the following morning, when I proposed going out first to ascertain whether the coast was clear. There was abundance of dry wood not far from the mouth of the cavern. We soon collected enough to keep up a fire during the night, and in the spot we had chosen there was no fear of its reflection being seen outside. It served to cook our provisions and at the same time scare off any wolves or bears who might visit us. We were not disturbed, however, during the night, although nearly stifled with the smoke from the small fire we kept up. According to my intention, soon after daylight the next morning, I alone first went out to reconnoitre. Fortunate it was that I did so, for on reaching the edge of the forest I found the fire still burning where our pursuers had camped, and I had little doubt that they were watching for the man who had killed their hound. I therefore turned back, so that I could keep concealed among the trees, and before long I caught sight of them in the distance. This showed me that it would be prudent to remain in our cavern another day, until the fellows had got weary of looking for me. I was thankful that they had no Indians with them, or they would have tracked me without difficulty. In the afternoon I again went out, making my way cautiously, lest I should come upon them. I had made up my mind to proceed by myself some way to the northward until I could reach a settler’s hut, from whom I could learn whether the Kentuckians had gone on or turned back again, when I caught sight of them in the distance, making apparently for the very spot where they had rested the previous night. They had evidently ascertained from someone or other that the black and I had not gone that way. My only course was to return to the cave and to remain there in the hopes of tiring out our pursuers. Though they were determined fellows, they knew nothing of the country, and were completely at fault without their hound.

“As we had plenty of provisions, we could remain another whole day, by which time I hoped to find the coast clear. Once more I went out, leaving my knapsack with Dio, and taking only my rifle and ammunition. Instead of following the path I had pursued on previous occasions, I made a circuit to the right towards a hill, from whence I expected to catch sight of the spot where the Kentuckians had camped. Should I see no smoke ascending, I might hope that they had abandoned the search and gone homewards. I had nearly reached it, and was proceeding perhaps with less caution than before, when I came full in sight of the fellows. I knew them at once, and was still more convinced who they were by hearing a ball whistle past my ears. Although I might have shot one of them in return, I had no wish to take the life of a fellow-creature, but determined to trust to my heels. Off I set therefore as fast as I could run, and calculated that I knew the country better than they did, and that I could keep well ahead, thus drawing them away from Dio’s hiding-place. My intention was afterwards to return, and, together with the black, to continue the journey. On they came after me, and I could hear their voices shouting for many a mile, showing that they were still following. I have never had such a run in my life, but I have the satisfaction of believing that I have assisted Dio to make good his escape, and if they come here, you will be able to assure them that you have no slave concealed within your doors.”

My father highly approved of Mr Tidey’s conduct and the courage and judgment he had exhibited. We had now to consider the best way of relieving Dio, who was certain to remain in the cave until some one came from us. Mr Tidey was too much knocked up to set off immediately, so my father gave Dan and me permission to start away by daylight. By taking a circuitous course, we hoped to avoid the risk of meeting the Kentuckians, should they be still on the watch for the black. We were to try and reach the cave by nightfall, which, as we knew the spot and the country thoroughly, we expected easily to do. We were looking out all the evening for a visit from Mr Tidey’s pursuers, but for some cause or other they did not appear; had they done so, we were prepared to give them a warm reception. Besides our guest and Uncle Denis, our father, Dan and I, we had in the house, Martin Prentis the overseer, and Peter, all of whom were well able to handle their rifles, while Biddy was as likely to make as good a fight of it as anyone of us with her broomstick or a hot poker, which she had kept in the stove for the purpose.

The evening, however, passed away without any disturbance, although we two or three times heard the dogs barking in the huts of the farm-labourers, while our own animals in the outbuildings barked in return. Dan and I got ready for our journey before we lay down to sleep. Fancying that it was time to start, without waiting for daylight, we called up Peter to let us out, but we did not arouse the rest of the family. We agreed to breakfast when we had got some miles from home, and by making an early start we felt confident that we could perform the distance easily before sunset.

“Massa, don’t let those white niggers catch you. Better dat Boxer go wid you, he take care if dey come near to let you know. Dey no catch him asleep,” said Peter, as with candle in hand, a red night-cap, and his striped pink shirt-tails fluttering about his legs, he opened the door for us to go out.

“Never fear, Peter, we will keep a sharp look-out for the Kentuckians,” answered Dan; “if they show fight, we shall be ready for them; we know how to shoot as well as they do.”

Following Peter’s advice, we went to the stables and released Boxer, who leaped round and round, trying to lick our faces with pleasure at the thought of a day’s sport, which he supposed we were about to give him. We had our knapsacks on our backs with our usual camp traps, besides a good supply of provisions, as we must remain out one night, and should probably have to stay with Dio until Mr Tidey could return to escort him on his journey. We had not proceeded more than two or three hundred yards when Boxer gave a low growl, and then breaking into a fierce bark, dashed forward.

“Curse that dog, he’ll be waking up the people, and may be fixing his fangs into the throat of one of us,” exclaimed some one in a gruff voice, who was concealed apparently behind a snake fence some little way off.

“I’ll stick my bowie-knife into him, if he comes near me,” said another person.

Dan was about to cry out and call the dog back, but I stopped him in time.

“Keep silence!” I whispered, “those must be the Kentuckians; they are on the watch, probably intending to make a rush for the door when Biddy opens it in the morning, hoping to surprise the rest of the family in bed. The best thing we can do is to go back and let our father know what we have discovered: crouch down so that they may not see us. I suppose they have been creeping forward to get close up to the house without being discovered.”

The loud barking of the dog prevented any risk of my voice being heard, which, low as I spoke, it might have been in the still night air. The men, whoever they were, did not fire, probably because they could not catch sight of Boxer, who was rushing from side to side, concealed among some low shrubs and thick grass. I hoped when he found that we were returning, he would also retreat and avoid the risk he was running of being shot.

We hurried back, Boxer still keeping up his barking, preventing our footsteps being heard.

“But I am afraid poor Boxer will be shot,” said Dan.

“No fear of that; the men, if they wish to surprise us, won’t venture to fire,” I observed, “and if we call him it will show them that they have been discovered; better let him take his chance, he understands what he is about. While he keeps up his barking, the sound of the door opening will not be heard.”

We accordingly crept back towards the house, but on reaching it found that Peter had closed the door, and we had to make our way round to the window of the room in which he slept. We tapped on the shutter, but Peter did not answer.

“He has fallen asleep again, the lazy fellow!” said Dan in a low voice.

We knocked louder and louder.

“Who dare?” at length asked a voice from within.

“Open the window and I will tell you,” I said in a whisper, but sufficiently loud for Peter to hear me, I hoped.

“Who dare?” he again asked.

“Open the window, quick, quick,” I repeated, putting my mouth to the chink where the shutters joined.

“What! Massa Mike!” exclaimed Peter, “is dat you?”

“Yes, yes, open at once,” I answered, almost losing patience and speaking louder than I had hitherto done.

At that moment Boxer had ceased barking. Scarcely had the words left my mouth than I feared that we might have been heard by the Kentuckians.

Boxer again burst out into a furious bark, very much nearer to us, showing that he was retreating before the foe. By this time Peter had opened the shutter, and, assisted by the black, Dan and I scrambled in at the window. As we did so we heard footsteps, when Boxer, who was a prudent dog, as well as a brave one, feeling that he had done his duty in warning us and should be safer inside the citadel than outside, with one bound followed us into the room.

Chapter Five.The attack on Uphill—My father’s warning—The beginning of the fight—Our victory—A cowardly revenge—Mr Tidey acts as scout—Mr McDermont renews his proposal to purchase our farm—We resolve to go West—Uncle Denis decides to join us—An expedition to Dio’s relief—We discover the cave—We find Dio—His delight at the prospect of returning—Too weak for the journey—Our arrival home—Preparations for departure—Uncle Denis with us again—The march commenced—Cross the Illinois river—On the prairies of Missouri—“Westward Ho!”—Possibilities of danger—The proper place to camp—The way to bivouac—The rear-guard.No sooner was Boxer safe inside the room, than Peter began hurriedly to close the shutter, when we heard the report of a gun, and a bullet with a loud thud struck it. Fortunately the wood was thick, or one of us might have been shot. Peter, quick as lightning, closed the shutter and put up the bar.“Dem rascally Kentuckians do dat!” he exclaimed; “hand me your rifle, massa, and me pay dem back. Stan’ by to open de shutter for me to fire.”“No, no, Peter,” I said; “the men are not likely to show themselves, and the other is sure to fire the instant he sees the window open.”The shot had aroused my father and mother and the rest of the household, and we heard my father and Uncle Denis calling to each other. Peter having struck a light, we went into the hall, where we all soon assembled, with the exception of my mother and Kathleen, when I narrated what had occurred.“The fellows are bent on mischief, there can be no doubt about that,” said my father. “They are probably not aware how many there are of us in the house, and expect to force their way in without much opposition.”Uncle Denis proposed rushing out and getting hold of the fellows who had fired, supposing that they were waiting for others to come up before attacking the house. My father, however, advised that we should remain within doors.“If we go out the fellows will see us, and may pick us off with ease, while, on the other hand, they cannot approach without showing themselves, and we shall be perfectly justified in shooting them down should they come with hostile intent.”My father’s first care was to place my mother and Kathleen in safety, and to insist on their going into a store-closet, to which no bullets could penetrate should any pierce the shutters. Black Rose begged leave to accompany them, but Biddy indignantly refused to hide herself, declaring that she only wished “the spalpeens” would show their ugly faces at the door, and she would put some marks on them which they would carry to their graves. Having thus expressed herself, she hastened into the kitchen, where she lighted the fire, blowing away with all her might to get the poker into a red heat.My father’s first care was to set one of us to watch at the window of each room, to give the alarm should any attempt be made to force them, while he himself stood at the front entrance. Peter was posted at the rear of the house. Loop-holes had been formed in the shutters through which we could look and see what was taking place outside. They had slides so that they could be closed in an instant. As no lamps were left burning in any of the rooms, those outside could not distinguish the small openings, while the moon, though waning, afforded light sufficient to enable us to see anyone moving about round the house.Our preparations for defence were made in a shorter time than I have taken to describe them. I was looking through the loophole in my window-shutter in the front of the house when I saw a person stealing cautiously forward along the road which led to it. I could make out that he had a rifle in his hand, which he was holding ready for action. Presently half-a-dozen more men came in sight, when their leader stopped until they got up with him. I instantly called out to my father that the enemy were close upon us.“We must be certain that they come with hostile intent. Let no one fire until I give the word,” he said; “I will speak to them first, and hear what they want.”There was little doubt about that, however; before my father could open the loophole, a thundering blow was dealt with the trunk of a tree against the door, making it shake on its hinges, though the tough wood held firm.“Who dares thus attack my house?” shouted my father; “off with you, or take the consequences.”A shower of bullets which pinged against the door and walls on either side was the reply. Our assailants, disappointed in their first attempt to break open the door, hoped to alarm us into submission.“Open the door, and let us in; we come on lawful business to look after a runaway slave, and have him we will, alive or dead, although we burn your house about your heads,” shouted one of the men outside.Uncle Denis thought from the sound of the voice that it was Mr Bracher himself who spoke.“We have no runaway slave within, but open the door we will not; so if you again make the attempt to force it, your blood be on your own heads,” answered my father in a firm voice.“That’s all empty boast,” was the answer; “if you hurt any of our men, not one of you shall escape with your lives.”“Faith! we’re wasting time talking to the fellows,” cried Uncle Denis; “let’s begin to treat them as they deserve. If they don’t go away, I’ll knock over that big blackguard Bracher, and his crew will soon be taking to their heels if they haven’t him to lead them on.”My father, although a soldier, was as averse as any man to shedding blood.“We will show them that they are not likely to succeed, and that they will pay dearly for the attempt if they again try to break open the door,” he said. “Mr Bracher,” he shouted, “understand that I don’t wish to be your enemy, and have no unkind feeling towards you. You have made an unwarrantable attack on my house. No harm has as yet come of it. If you will go peaceably away I will overlook the insult and take no further steps in the matter; but if not, I once for all warn you that I am well prepared to defend my house, and that you will pay dearly should you try to enter it. I again say your slave is not within my doors, so that you will gain nothing if you succeed, which you have no chance of doing.”My father in speaking this had some hopes of inducing the Kentuckians to change their intentions, and at all events he might prolong the time so that daylight would surprise them before they should recommence the attack. It would then be more easy to distinguish the leaders and shoot them down, when the rest would in all probability beat a hasty retreat.Of this Silas Bracher, if he was there in person, was probably aware. In spite of the warning the Kentuckians had received, they, supposing perhaps from our not having fired that we had no ammunition, or were afraid of doing so, again assaulted the door with their battering-ram; it, however, as before, stoutly withstood the thundering blows they bestowed on it.“If they will have it they must,” at length exclaimed my father; and scarcely were the words out of his mouth than Uncle Denis, the overseer, and our guest fired. I was going to fire when my father shouted to Dan and me not to pull a trigger. A cry arose from the midst of our assailants, followed by a loud shout.“Death to all within the house! Batter in the door, boys; a few strokes and it will be done.”The ram thundered against the door. I at that moment looked through my loophole, and I caught sight of a party in reserve, who the next instant sent a shower of bullets rattling against the shutters and walls, one shot narrowly missing my head as it whistled through the loophole. I therefore thrust out my rifle and fired in the direction from whence the shot came. Whether or not I had hit anyone I could not tell. I was too well-trained a sportsman to lose a moment before again reloading. All our little garrison were now engaged in firing and loading as fast as they could. My father kept his post at the door, and Uncle Denis and the overseer stationed themselves at the windows nearest to him on either side, ready, should the door be burst open, to assist in driving back the miscreants, while Biddy remained intently watching the proceedings, with her hand on the red-hot poker, prepared to help in the defence. As I could not bring my rifle to bear on the party with the battering-ram, I contented myself with firing at those in the distance, but as they kept as much as possible under cover, I could not tell whether my shot took effect. The blows which the door received threatened every instant to break it in, and I suspected that we should have a fearful struggle before we should succeed in driving back our assailants. Their cries and shouts increased. Excited with rage and disappointment they rushed again and again to the assault. The firing also became hotter and hotter. Fortunately, so well sheltered were all our party, as we only went to the window to fire, then retreating behind the walls, that not one of us had hitherto been hurt. From the sounds which reached my ears I believed that the rifles of those of the garrison who commanded the entrance were taking effect. Presently, after another attempt to break open the door, I saw our assailants in the grey light of morning beating a rapid retreat and dragging along with them three or four of their number who had been either killed or badly wounded.“Victory, victory?” shouted Uncle Denis, “Erin-go-braugh, I knew we should do for the audacious villains. Hurrah, hurrah?” The rest of us echoed his shout, including Biddy from the kitchen, while she flourished her red-hot poker above her head.My father hastened to assure my mother and Kathleen that we were safe for the present, while we all shook hands round, congratulating ourselves on our victory.“We must not be too certain that we have got rid of them altogether,” observed my father; “those Kentuckians are persevering fellows. If they think they have a chance of success they will be at us again.”Increasing daylight enabled us to see for some distance around the house, but no one could we discover. We all began to believe that they had finally gone away, when Peter, who was looking through a window at the side of the house exclaimed—“See, massa, see! look dare!”A bright flame shot up, its size rapidly increasing. It was in the direction of a barn in which a quantity of corn and other produce was stored.“The scoundrels have set it on fire in revenge!” exclaimed Uncle Denis; “let’s be out and after them.”“The very thing they would wish us to do,” observed my father; “probably one of their objects in firing the building was the hope that we should rush out to extinguish the flames. Provided the fire does not extend, it will be wiser to remain here.”Uncle Denis agreed that my father was right. That he was so we afterwards ascertained from one of the farm-labourers who had cautiously followed the Kentuckians.The sun at length rose, when Mr Tidey insisted on going out to learn whether they had actually taken their departure. To this my father consented, and the Dominie set off with his rifle, accompanied by Boxer. On going out, he found numerous splashes of blood in the front near the battering-ram, showing that the Kentuckians had been deservedly punished for the outrage.We had reason to be thankful that we had all escaped without injury. Towards evening Mr Tidey came back bringing the satisfactory intelligence that he had traced the retreating party to the Ohio.Severe as was the lesson they had received, it was but too probable that they would return and take another opportunity of wreaking their vengeance on our heads. My father was a brave man, and had he been alone would have remained and defended his property to the last, but he thought of the danger to which my mother and we were exposed, and this made him more willing than he otherwise would have been, to listen to the proposal of Mr McDermont.“You’ll be after having a troubled life of it here, captain,” observed our guest, the next day. “For my part I am not altogether unaccustomed to such proceedings in the old country, and have no wife or children to be troubled about, and should rather like the excitement of the sort of life I should have to lead here for a year or two, until I have taught the Kentuckians to leave me alone in peace. This makes me bold to offer you a price for your farm, should you be disposed to move farther westward or northward, out of their way. I know how to deal with fellows of their character, though I should be puzzled if I had redskins to guard against, or a new country to clear. What say you now to twenty thousand dollars? It will go a long way westward. I am aware that your farm, under other circumstances, would be worth more than that. Should you accept my proposal, I would advise you not to migrate to Swampyville. You have the advantage of my experience in that matter,” he added, laughing.My father took time to consider Mr McDermont’s proposal, and he and Uncle Denis had a long consultation on the subject. He finally decided to accept the offer, and greatly to his satisfaction Uncle Denis told him that he had made up his mind to part with his farm in Kentucky and to cast in his lot with us.“I wish that I had done so years ago,” he said. “I had an offer just before I left home: I shall not be long in settling the matter.”Our uncle was a man of action, and observing that he should give Mr Bracher a wide berth, and promising to return in a few days, at once set about making preparations for a start.Mr McDermont was ready to purchase the furniture and everything we did not require. Dan and I meantime set off to try and find poor Dio, and either to escort him on his way to Mr Grey’s, or should he desire to return, to bring him back with us, as my father considered that for the present he would run no risk of being captured, and he might prefer continuing with us to seeking his fortune among strangers. We gladly undertook the duty, having little doubt of what he would like to do.“I am afraid the poor fellow must have been starving all this time, as the provisions Mr Tidey left with him can scarcely have lasted more than couple of days,” observed Dan as we trudged along.“He had his rifle, you must remember,” I answered, “and although he may not be a very good shot, he will be able to knock over a few birds or a racoon, or an opossum, and there are berries in abundance growing in the neighbourhood of the cave.”Although I said this, I was well aware that there were many dangers to which Dio might have been exposed. Wolves or bears while prowling about might have found him asleep, or he might have fallen into the hands of Indians, or he might have been discovered by white men, who, suspecting him to be a runaway slave, might have secured him in the hope of obtaining a reward for bringing him back. There was also the possibility, should he have finished his provisions, that he might have been afraid of going out in search of more, and that he might be suffering from starvation. We therefore hurried on as fast as our legs could carry us. We did not pass a single farm on our route where we could obtain assistance should we require it, although there were several away to the eastward.In spite of the utmost exertions we could make, it was nearly sunset before we reached the neighbourhood of the cave. We looked about, no sign of Dio could we discover, not the slightest trail to show that he had left the cavern or that anyone had entered it. So far this was satisfactory. Though we knew the locality, the mouth of the cavern itself was not very easy to find. We had therefore to hunt about for some time, until at length we discovered the bushes which grew in front of it, when we at once began to creep through them; we crawled on till we found ourselves in the mouth of the cave. Mr Tidey had minutely described the spot where he had left Dio. We groped our way forward expecting to see the light from his fire, but not a gleam came forth from any of the passages to direct us.“Oh, suppose a bear and her cubs are hid away anywhere, what shall we do?” exclaimed Dan.“Shoot the bear and knock the cubs on the head,” I answered, although I knew that was more easily said than done.Dan and I called to Dio in vain. Again I shouted, “Dio, Dio, answer us, pray do, if you are here.”“Listen! I hear a voice; it’s very faint, but not far off,” said Dan.I stopped shouting, and distinctly heard the words—“Here, massa, here, all in de dark; dis niggar bery sick.”On this I struck a match, and by its faint light I saw a figure lying on the ground in a recess of the cave. There were a number of sticks collected for fire-wood piled up close to him, so putting the match to some dry leaves which we swept up together, we quickly had a blaze.“What has happened, Dio?” I asked, kneeling down by his side.“No matches, massa,” answered Dio; “and him eat up all de food Massa Tidey left. For two days him had noting to put in him mouth.”“You shall have something then without delay,” I said, giving him a bottle, which I had fortunately filled at the last spring we had passed. He eagerly swallowed a draught, and we then produced the provisions we had brought. Though weak from his previous illness, the poor black was not so far gone as to be unable to eat a hearty meal. This quickly revived him. He told us that his fear of being captured by the emissaries of his old master had prevented him going out in search of food, and that he had imprudently on the first day consumed the provisions left by Mr Tidey, which, eked out, might have lasted almost to the present time. His joy at hearing that the Kentuckians had been defeated, greatly assisted to recover him, although he expressed his regret that we should have been exposed to danger on his account. When we told him we had come to escort him on his way to Mr Grey’s, his countenance fell.“But my father says we may take you back, if you are willing to accompany us to the west, where we shall be at a distance from the slave-states,” I added.“With all dis niggar’s heart,” exclaimed Dio; “me go whar’ massa go; right ’way to de Rocky Mountains, if him like.”We spent the night in the cavern, neither wolves nor bears showing their noses, and the next morning Dio, after a good breakfast, declared that he was well able to go back to Uphill. On seeing him attempt to walk, however, I judged that it would be prudent to let him take another day’s rest, while we went in search of game and obtained some more water from a spring which rose at some distance from the cave.We had capital sport, and a fat turkey which I shot put some more strength into Dio’s muscles. We were very happy in our roomy cave, which was large enough to afford shelter to a dozen families, and we agreed that we should like to spend several days there. However, we were wanted at home, and Dio having completely recovered, we set off at daybreak the following morning.We stepped out so briskly, that although we made a circuit to avoid the risk of falling in with strangers on the high road, we reached home soon after sunset. We found the preparations for our departure much advanced. My father had procured four waggons and several teams of stout oxen, which were considered more suitable than horses for traversing the prairies, as being hardier and better able to go a long distance without water. My father, Mr Tidey, and I had a horse a-piece, and Uncle Denis would, of course, bring his own with probably half-a-dozen more for some of the men.Martin Prentis was to remain with the purchaser of the property; indeed, without his assistance, Mr McDermont would have been badly off. Our overseer promised, however, when his services were not required, to join us.Three days after our return Uncle Denis arrived, bringing with him several white men, among whom was his overseer, and two blacks, slaves whom he had emancipated with the promise that they should labour for him until they had paid the price of their freedom. “We shall see whether they prove faithful or not,” he remarked, as he described his arrangements. Besides them Uncle Denis was accompanied by his overseer, who, not being required on the farm, was in search of employment. Greatly to our satisfaction, just as we were on the point of starting, Martin Prentis came forward and offered to give up his situation to Uncle Denis’s overseer, Tom Sykes, if Tom would take it, and Mr McDermont would agree to the arrangement. This he did, and it was settled that Martin should accompany us, so that altogether we formed a pretty large, well-armed party. We all had rifles, and a brace of pistols, besides long knives in our belts, and my father and Uncle Denis wore their swords.Our uncle’s followers, including Sam Hodding, his factotum, were sturdy fellows, and if some of them were not very bright, they were all, he said, as true as steel, while he believed that the two blacks, influenced by gratitude, would prove perfectly faithful.He brought word that Mr Bracher was said to be very ill. We suspected that he was suffering from a wound he had received while attacking our house. There was some fear, should he hear of our intended departure, that he might for the purpose of revenging himself, send a party to follow us up and attack us while on the move.“Never fear, friends,” said Mr McDermont, when the subject was spoken of, “I’ll keep an eye on the proceedings of the gentleman, and if I hear of any suspicious characters going in the direction you are travelling, I’ll dodge their steps and come to your assistance. They’ll not follow you far, if they follow at all, so I don’t think that you need have much fear of being troubled by them.”We exchanged kind farewells with our new friend, and not without many a regret at leaving Uphill commenced our march. We all knew that it would be a toilsome one and not free from danger, but my father had determined, that as he was moving he would move far west, where the curse of slavery was unknown.The waggons I have mentioned were of a stronger build than those before described. They had high tilts which made them comfortable sleeping-places at night. My father and Uncle Denis rode alongside the leading waggon, in which my mother, Kathleen, Biddy, and Rose travelled, and Dan condescended when tired to take his seat with them. Martin Prentis drove the first, Sam Hodding the second, Peter the third, and some of our other men the rest. Mr Tidey and I brought up the rear.For some days we kept Dio inside, lest he might be recognised and an attempt made to carry him off. Boxer and Toby generally scampered on ahead, coming back every now and then, and giving a loud bark as if to hurry on the train.We moved but at a slow pace, for although the patient oxen could travel on for many miles without growing weary, it was impossible to make them advance out of a steady walk. We proceeded northward, having the mighty Mississippi on our left, until we reached the banks of the Illinois river, which we crossed in flat-bottomed boats, and then proceeding several days’ journey westward, entered the wide prairies of Missouri, the vast river from which the state takes its name being to the south of us. We were now truly in the wilderness, but “Westward Ho!” was our cry. We had numerous dangers to guard against; prairie fires might occur and envelope us in their deadly embrace; hostile Indians might attack us and attempt to carry off our cattle during the night: when crossing rivers floods might come down and overwhelm us; or packs of fierce wolves might seize any of our oxen straying from the neighbourhood of the camp; but the fear of such contingencies did not deter my father and uncle, who had made up their minds to move on until they could find a region suited to their taste. Many had done the same and failed, others had succeeded, and they hoped to be ranked among the latter.Our mode of camping at night, having reached a spot near water, was, to form a square with our waggons, leaving an opening through which the cattle might be driven in case of an attack; if close to a broad and deep stream, the water served for one side and the camp could thus be made of larger size. The fires were lighted in the centre, and two or more men were always posted outside to give due notice of the approach of a foe. We had brought a tent for my mother and Kathleen, which was of course pitched inside the square, that they might enjoy more room than their waggon afforded, although that was made as comfortable as circumstances would permit for sitting in during the day-time. In case of being attacked by Indians, the goods in the waggons would serve, we hoped, as protection against their arrows or even the bullets of those possessed of fire-arms.We always did our best to reach a spot of this description before sunset. Our first duty was to water the horses and cattle, then to hobble the former. This was done by fastening the fore and hind-legs on one side with an iron chain, a leathern strap passing round the fetlock. They were then turned loose to graze, their instinct inducing them, provided there was plenty of grass, to remain close to the camp. We then set to work to get wood for our fires, after filling the kettles with water; the salt meat was then put on to boil, or when we had game, that was spitted and placed on forked sticks to roast. We each of us had our various duties to attend to, some made up the beds with blankets and buffalo robes; one man roasted the coffee berries in a frying-pan and prepared them for boiling in a primitive fashion by wrapping them in a piece of buffalo or deer-skin and pounding them with the back of a hatchet.As soon as the coffee was boiled and the meat cooked we all turned to with good appetites, our mother, Kathleen, Biddy, and Rose, seating themselves on some of the lighter packages, which were taken from the waggons for the purpose.After a few days’ travelling we got so accustomed to the style of life we were leading, that having encountered no serious difficulties we began to hope that the dangers we had heard of were more imaginary than real, and that we should after all perform our journey with ease and safety. Silas Bracher had either received no notice of our departure, or he did not suppose that Dio was with us, for we had travelled a hundred miles or more northward without seeing any of his people. Mr Tidey and I, however, as we rode in the rear, kept a look-out for them; and had they come up with our train they would have found us well prepared to give them a warm reception. It was satisfactory, however, at length to believe that there was no risk of an encounter with them.

No sooner was Boxer safe inside the room, than Peter began hurriedly to close the shutter, when we heard the report of a gun, and a bullet with a loud thud struck it. Fortunately the wood was thick, or one of us might have been shot. Peter, quick as lightning, closed the shutter and put up the bar.

“Dem rascally Kentuckians do dat!” he exclaimed; “hand me your rifle, massa, and me pay dem back. Stan’ by to open de shutter for me to fire.”

“No, no, Peter,” I said; “the men are not likely to show themselves, and the other is sure to fire the instant he sees the window open.”

The shot had aroused my father and mother and the rest of the household, and we heard my father and Uncle Denis calling to each other. Peter having struck a light, we went into the hall, where we all soon assembled, with the exception of my mother and Kathleen, when I narrated what had occurred.

“The fellows are bent on mischief, there can be no doubt about that,” said my father. “They are probably not aware how many there are of us in the house, and expect to force their way in without much opposition.”

Uncle Denis proposed rushing out and getting hold of the fellows who had fired, supposing that they were waiting for others to come up before attacking the house. My father, however, advised that we should remain within doors.

“If we go out the fellows will see us, and may pick us off with ease, while, on the other hand, they cannot approach without showing themselves, and we shall be perfectly justified in shooting them down should they come with hostile intent.”

My father’s first care was to place my mother and Kathleen in safety, and to insist on their going into a store-closet, to which no bullets could penetrate should any pierce the shutters. Black Rose begged leave to accompany them, but Biddy indignantly refused to hide herself, declaring that she only wished “the spalpeens” would show their ugly faces at the door, and she would put some marks on them which they would carry to their graves. Having thus expressed herself, she hastened into the kitchen, where she lighted the fire, blowing away with all her might to get the poker into a red heat.

My father’s first care was to set one of us to watch at the window of each room, to give the alarm should any attempt be made to force them, while he himself stood at the front entrance. Peter was posted at the rear of the house. Loop-holes had been formed in the shutters through which we could look and see what was taking place outside. They had slides so that they could be closed in an instant. As no lamps were left burning in any of the rooms, those outside could not distinguish the small openings, while the moon, though waning, afforded light sufficient to enable us to see anyone moving about round the house.

Our preparations for defence were made in a shorter time than I have taken to describe them. I was looking through the loophole in my window-shutter in the front of the house when I saw a person stealing cautiously forward along the road which led to it. I could make out that he had a rifle in his hand, which he was holding ready for action. Presently half-a-dozen more men came in sight, when their leader stopped until they got up with him. I instantly called out to my father that the enemy were close upon us.

“We must be certain that they come with hostile intent. Let no one fire until I give the word,” he said; “I will speak to them first, and hear what they want.”

There was little doubt about that, however; before my father could open the loophole, a thundering blow was dealt with the trunk of a tree against the door, making it shake on its hinges, though the tough wood held firm.

“Who dares thus attack my house?” shouted my father; “off with you, or take the consequences.”

A shower of bullets which pinged against the door and walls on either side was the reply. Our assailants, disappointed in their first attempt to break open the door, hoped to alarm us into submission.

“Open the door, and let us in; we come on lawful business to look after a runaway slave, and have him we will, alive or dead, although we burn your house about your heads,” shouted one of the men outside.

Uncle Denis thought from the sound of the voice that it was Mr Bracher himself who spoke.

“We have no runaway slave within, but open the door we will not; so if you again make the attempt to force it, your blood be on your own heads,” answered my father in a firm voice.

“That’s all empty boast,” was the answer; “if you hurt any of our men, not one of you shall escape with your lives.”

“Faith! we’re wasting time talking to the fellows,” cried Uncle Denis; “let’s begin to treat them as they deserve. If they don’t go away, I’ll knock over that big blackguard Bracher, and his crew will soon be taking to their heels if they haven’t him to lead them on.”

My father, although a soldier, was as averse as any man to shedding blood.

“We will show them that they are not likely to succeed, and that they will pay dearly for the attempt if they again try to break open the door,” he said. “Mr Bracher,” he shouted, “understand that I don’t wish to be your enemy, and have no unkind feeling towards you. You have made an unwarrantable attack on my house. No harm has as yet come of it. If you will go peaceably away I will overlook the insult and take no further steps in the matter; but if not, I once for all warn you that I am well prepared to defend my house, and that you will pay dearly should you try to enter it. I again say your slave is not within my doors, so that you will gain nothing if you succeed, which you have no chance of doing.”

My father in speaking this had some hopes of inducing the Kentuckians to change their intentions, and at all events he might prolong the time so that daylight would surprise them before they should recommence the attack. It would then be more easy to distinguish the leaders and shoot them down, when the rest would in all probability beat a hasty retreat.

Of this Silas Bracher, if he was there in person, was probably aware. In spite of the warning the Kentuckians had received, they, supposing perhaps from our not having fired that we had no ammunition, or were afraid of doing so, again assaulted the door with their battering-ram; it, however, as before, stoutly withstood the thundering blows they bestowed on it.

“If they will have it they must,” at length exclaimed my father; and scarcely were the words out of his mouth than Uncle Denis, the overseer, and our guest fired. I was going to fire when my father shouted to Dan and me not to pull a trigger. A cry arose from the midst of our assailants, followed by a loud shout.

“Death to all within the house! Batter in the door, boys; a few strokes and it will be done.”

The ram thundered against the door. I at that moment looked through my loophole, and I caught sight of a party in reserve, who the next instant sent a shower of bullets rattling against the shutters and walls, one shot narrowly missing my head as it whistled through the loophole. I therefore thrust out my rifle and fired in the direction from whence the shot came. Whether or not I had hit anyone I could not tell. I was too well-trained a sportsman to lose a moment before again reloading. All our little garrison were now engaged in firing and loading as fast as they could. My father kept his post at the door, and Uncle Denis and the overseer stationed themselves at the windows nearest to him on either side, ready, should the door be burst open, to assist in driving back the miscreants, while Biddy remained intently watching the proceedings, with her hand on the red-hot poker, prepared to help in the defence. As I could not bring my rifle to bear on the party with the battering-ram, I contented myself with firing at those in the distance, but as they kept as much as possible under cover, I could not tell whether my shot took effect. The blows which the door received threatened every instant to break it in, and I suspected that we should have a fearful struggle before we should succeed in driving back our assailants. Their cries and shouts increased. Excited with rage and disappointment they rushed again and again to the assault. The firing also became hotter and hotter. Fortunately, so well sheltered were all our party, as we only went to the window to fire, then retreating behind the walls, that not one of us had hitherto been hurt. From the sounds which reached my ears I believed that the rifles of those of the garrison who commanded the entrance were taking effect. Presently, after another attempt to break open the door, I saw our assailants in the grey light of morning beating a rapid retreat and dragging along with them three or four of their number who had been either killed or badly wounded.

“Victory, victory?” shouted Uncle Denis, “Erin-go-braugh, I knew we should do for the audacious villains. Hurrah, hurrah?” The rest of us echoed his shout, including Biddy from the kitchen, while she flourished her red-hot poker above her head.

My father hastened to assure my mother and Kathleen that we were safe for the present, while we all shook hands round, congratulating ourselves on our victory.

“We must not be too certain that we have got rid of them altogether,” observed my father; “those Kentuckians are persevering fellows. If they think they have a chance of success they will be at us again.”

Increasing daylight enabled us to see for some distance around the house, but no one could we discover. We all began to believe that they had finally gone away, when Peter, who was looking through a window at the side of the house exclaimed—

“See, massa, see! look dare!”

A bright flame shot up, its size rapidly increasing. It was in the direction of a barn in which a quantity of corn and other produce was stored.

“The scoundrels have set it on fire in revenge!” exclaimed Uncle Denis; “let’s be out and after them.”

“The very thing they would wish us to do,” observed my father; “probably one of their objects in firing the building was the hope that we should rush out to extinguish the flames. Provided the fire does not extend, it will be wiser to remain here.”

Uncle Denis agreed that my father was right. That he was so we afterwards ascertained from one of the farm-labourers who had cautiously followed the Kentuckians.

The sun at length rose, when Mr Tidey insisted on going out to learn whether they had actually taken their departure. To this my father consented, and the Dominie set off with his rifle, accompanied by Boxer. On going out, he found numerous splashes of blood in the front near the battering-ram, showing that the Kentuckians had been deservedly punished for the outrage.

We had reason to be thankful that we had all escaped without injury. Towards evening Mr Tidey came back bringing the satisfactory intelligence that he had traced the retreating party to the Ohio.

Severe as was the lesson they had received, it was but too probable that they would return and take another opportunity of wreaking their vengeance on our heads. My father was a brave man, and had he been alone would have remained and defended his property to the last, but he thought of the danger to which my mother and we were exposed, and this made him more willing than he otherwise would have been, to listen to the proposal of Mr McDermont.

“You’ll be after having a troubled life of it here, captain,” observed our guest, the next day. “For my part I am not altogether unaccustomed to such proceedings in the old country, and have no wife or children to be troubled about, and should rather like the excitement of the sort of life I should have to lead here for a year or two, until I have taught the Kentuckians to leave me alone in peace. This makes me bold to offer you a price for your farm, should you be disposed to move farther westward or northward, out of their way. I know how to deal with fellows of their character, though I should be puzzled if I had redskins to guard against, or a new country to clear. What say you now to twenty thousand dollars? It will go a long way westward. I am aware that your farm, under other circumstances, would be worth more than that. Should you accept my proposal, I would advise you not to migrate to Swampyville. You have the advantage of my experience in that matter,” he added, laughing.

My father took time to consider Mr McDermont’s proposal, and he and Uncle Denis had a long consultation on the subject. He finally decided to accept the offer, and greatly to his satisfaction Uncle Denis told him that he had made up his mind to part with his farm in Kentucky and to cast in his lot with us.

“I wish that I had done so years ago,” he said. “I had an offer just before I left home: I shall not be long in settling the matter.”

Our uncle was a man of action, and observing that he should give Mr Bracher a wide berth, and promising to return in a few days, at once set about making preparations for a start.

Mr McDermont was ready to purchase the furniture and everything we did not require. Dan and I meantime set off to try and find poor Dio, and either to escort him on his way to Mr Grey’s, or should he desire to return, to bring him back with us, as my father considered that for the present he would run no risk of being captured, and he might prefer continuing with us to seeking his fortune among strangers. We gladly undertook the duty, having little doubt of what he would like to do.

“I am afraid the poor fellow must have been starving all this time, as the provisions Mr Tidey left with him can scarcely have lasted more than couple of days,” observed Dan as we trudged along.

“He had his rifle, you must remember,” I answered, “and although he may not be a very good shot, he will be able to knock over a few birds or a racoon, or an opossum, and there are berries in abundance growing in the neighbourhood of the cave.”

Although I said this, I was well aware that there were many dangers to which Dio might have been exposed. Wolves or bears while prowling about might have found him asleep, or he might have fallen into the hands of Indians, or he might have been discovered by white men, who, suspecting him to be a runaway slave, might have secured him in the hope of obtaining a reward for bringing him back. There was also the possibility, should he have finished his provisions, that he might have been afraid of going out in search of more, and that he might be suffering from starvation. We therefore hurried on as fast as our legs could carry us. We did not pass a single farm on our route where we could obtain assistance should we require it, although there were several away to the eastward.

In spite of the utmost exertions we could make, it was nearly sunset before we reached the neighbourhood of the cave. We looked about, no sign of Dio could we discover, not the slightest trail to show that he had left the cavern or that anyone had entered it. So far this was satisfactory. Though we knew the locality, the mouth of the cavern itself was not very easy to find. We had therefore to hunt about for some time, until at length we discovered the bushes which grew in front of it, when we at once began to creep through them; we crawled on till we found ourselves in the mouth of the cave. Mr Tidey had minutely described the spot where he had left Dio. We groped our way forward expecting to see the light from his fire, but not a gleam came forth from any of the passages to direct us.

“Oh, suppose a bear and her cubs are hid away anywhere, what shall we do?” exclaimed Dan.

“Shoot the bear and knock the cubs on the head,” I answered, although I knew that was more easily said than done.

Dan and I called to Dio in vain. Again I shouted, “Dio, Dio, answer us, pray do, if you are here.”

“Listen! I hear a voice; it’s very faint, but not far off,” said Dan.

I stopped shouting, and distinctly heard the words—

“Here, massa, here, all in de dark; dis niggar bery sick.”

On this I struck a match, and by its faint light I saw a figure lying on the ground in a recess of the cave. There were a number of sticks collected for fire-wood piled up close to him, so putting the match to some dry leaves which we swept up together, we quickly had a blaze.

“What has happened, Dio?” I asked, kneeling down by his side.

“No matches, massa,” answered Dio; “and him eat up all de food Massa Tidey left. For two days him had noting to put in him mouth.”

“You shall have something then without delay,” I said, giving him a bottle, which I had fortunately filled at the last spring we had passed. He eagerly swallowed a draught, and we then produced the provisions we had brought. Though weak from his previous illness, the poor black was not so far gone as to be unable to eat a hearty meal. This quickly revived him. He told us that his fear of being captured by the emissaries of his old master had prevented him going out in search of food, and that he had imprudently on the first day consumed the provisions left by Mr Tidey, which, eked out, might have lasted almost to the present time. His joy at hearing that the Kentuckians had been defeated, greatly assisted to recover him, although he expressed his regret that we should have been exposed to danger on his account. When we told him we had come to escort him on his way to Mr Grey’s, his countenance fell.

“But my father says we may take you back, if you are willing to accompany us to the west, where we shall be at a distance from the slave-states,” I added.

“With all dis niggar’s heart,” exclaimed Dio; “me go whar’ massa go; right ’way to de Rocky Mountains, if him like.”

We spent the night in the cavern, neither wolves nor bears showing their noses, and the next morning Dio, after a good breakfast, declared that he was well able to go back to Uphill. On seeing him attempt to walk, however, I judged that it would be prudent to let him take another day’s rest, while we went in search of game and obtained some more water from a spring which rose at some distance from the cave.

We had capital sport, and a fat turkey which I shot put some more strength into Dio’s muscles. We were very happy in our roomy cave, which was large enough to afford shelter to a dozen families, and we agreed that we should like to spend several days there. However, we were wanted at home, and Dio having completely recovered, we set off at daybreak the following morning.

We stepped out so briskly, that although we made a circuit to avoid the risk of falling in with strangers on the high road, we reached home soon after sunset. We found the preparations for our departure much advanced. My father had procured four waggons and several teams of stout oxen, which were considered more suitable than horses for traversing the prairies, as being hardier and better able to go a long distance without water. My father, Mr Tidey, and I had a horse a-piece, and Uncle Denis would, of course, bring his own with probably half-a-dozen more for some of the men.

Martin Prentis was to remain with the purchaser of the property; indeed, without his assistance, Mr McDermont would have been badly off. Our overseer promised, however, when his services were not required, to join us.

Three days after our return Uncle Denis arrived, bringing with him several white men, among whom was his overseer, and two blacks, slaves whom he had emancipated with the promise that they should labour for him until they had paid the price of their freedom. “We shall see whether they prove faithful or not,” he remarked, as he described his arrangements. Besides them Uncle Denis was accompanied by his overseer, who, not being required on the farm, was in search of employment. Greatly to our satisfaction, just as we were on the point of starting, Martin Prentis came forward and offered to give up his situation to Uncle Denis’s overseer, Tom Sykes, if Tom would take it, and Mr McDermont would agree to the arrangement. This he did, and it was settled that Martin should accompany us, so that altogether we formed a pretty large, well-armed party. We all had rifles, and a brace of pistols, besides long knives in our belts, and my father and Uncle Denis wore their swords.

Our uncle’s followers, including Sam Hodding, his factotum, were sturdy fellows, and if some of them were not very bright, they were all, he said, as true as steel, while he believed that the two blacks, influenced by gratitude, would prove perfectly faithful.

He brought word that Mr Bracher was said to be very ill. We suspected that he was suffering from a wound he had received while attacking our house. There was some fear, should he hear of our intended departure, that he might for the purpose of revenging himself, send a party to follow us up and attack us while on the move.

“Never fear, friends,” said Mr McDermont, when the subject was spoken of, “I’ll keep an eye on the proceedings of the gentleman, and if I hear of any suspicious characters going in the direction you are travelling, I’ll dodge their steps and come to your assistance. They’ll not follow you far, if they follow at all, so I don’t think that you need have much fear of being troubled by them.”

We exchanged kind farewells with our new friend, and not without many a regret at leaving Uphill commenced our march. We all knew that it would be a toilsome one and not free from danger, but my father had determined, that as he was moving he would move far west, where the curse of slavery was unknown.

The waggons I have mentioned were of a stronger build than those before described. They had high tilts which made them comfortable sleeping-places at night. My father and Uncle Denis rode alongside the leading waggon, in which my mother, Kathleen, Biddy, and Rose travelled, and Dan condescended when tired to take his seat with them. Martin Prentis drove the first, Sam Hodding the second, Peter the third, and some of our other men the rest. Mr Tidey and I brought up the rear.

For some days we kept Dio inside, lest he might be recognised and an attempt made to carry him off. Boxer and Toby generally scampered on ahead, coming back every now and then, and giving a loud bark as if to hurry on the train.

We moved but at a slow pace, for although the patient oxen could travel on for many miles without growing weary, it was impossible to make them advance out of a steady walk. We proceeded northward, having the mighty Mississippi on our left, until we reached the banks of the Illinois river, which we crossed in flat-bottomed boats, and then proceeding several days’ journey westward, entered the wide prairies of Missouri, the vast river from which the state takes its name being to the south of us. We were now truly in the wilderness, but “Westward Ho!” was our cry. We had numerous dangers to guard against; prairie fires might occur and envelope us in their deadly embrace; hostile Indians might attack us and attempt to carry off our cattle during the night: when crossing rivers floods might come down and overwhelm us; or packs of fierce wolves might seize any of our oxen straying from the neighbourhood of the camp; but the fear of such contingencies did not deter my father and uncle, who had made up their minds to move on until they could find a region suited to their taste. Many had done the same and failed, others had succeeded, and they hoped to be ranked among the latter.

Our mode of camping at night, having reached a spot near water, was, to form a square with our waggons, leaving an opening through which the cattle might be driven in case of an attack; if close to a broad and deep stream, the water served for one side and the camp could thus be made of larger size. The fires were lighted in the centre, and two or more men were always posted outside to give due notice of the approach of a foe. We had brought a tent for my mother and Kathleen, which was of course pitched inside the square, that they might enjoy more room than their waggon afforded, although that was made as comfortable as circumstances would permit for sitting in during the day-time. In case of being attacked by Indians, the goods in the waggons would serve, we hoped, as protection against their arrows or even the bullets of those possessed of fire-arms.

We always did our best to reach a spot of this description before sunset. Our first duty was to water the horses and cattle, then to hobble the former. This was done by fastening the fore and hind-legs on one side with an iron chain, a leathern strap passing round the fetlock. They were then turned loose to graze, their instinct inducing them, provided there was plenty of grass, to remain close to the camp. We then set to work to get wood for our fires, after filling the kettles with water; the salt meat was then put on to boil, or when we had game, that was spitted and placed on forked sticks to roast. We each of us had our various duties to attend to, some made up the beds with blankets and buffalo robes; one man roasted the coffee berries in a frying-pan and prepared them for boiling in a primitive fashion by wrapping them in a piece of buffalo or deer-skin and pounding them with the back of a hatchet.

As soon as the coffee was boiled and the meat cooked we all turned to with good appetites, our mother, Kathleen, Biddy, and Rose, seating themselves on some of the lighter packages, which were taken from the waggons for the purpose.

After a few days’ travelling we got so accustomed to the style of life we were leading, that having encountered no serious difficulties we began to hope that the dangers we had heard of were more imaginary than real, and that we should after all perform our journey with ease and safety. Silas Bracher had either received no notice of our departure, or he did not suppose that Dio was with us, for we had travelled a hundred miles or more northward without seeing any of his people. Mr Tidey and I, however, as we rode in the rear, kept a look-out for them; and had they come up with our train they would have found us well prepared to give them a warm reception. It was satisfactory, however, at length to believe that there was no risk of an encounter with them.

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