Chapter Two.Life at Uphill—Our tutor—Mr Mark Tidey’s first lesson in Horsemanship—Studies from the book of Nature—Our trips westward—A Strange Combat—A Hasty Shot—Something worth knowing about Snakes—Camping out—The Bear’s visit and its result—Wolves—Drawing lots—A Sleepless Night—Timely Assistance—Dying from Hunger—Consequences of sheltering a Runaway Slave—Our Tutor turns Nurse—Chances of Discovery—We part Company—A mid-day Halt—An Unpleasant Meeting—The Bully receives a Lesson—Our March Homewards—The Way Dan kept Watch—We reach the Farm.We had been living at Uphill for some years, the wilderness had been changed into a smiling garden, though I will not say a perfect paradise, for I am very sure that no such spot exists on earth. Our education had not been neglected, for my father had engaged a tutor for Dan and me, when we grew too old for the instruction our mother could give us. Our father was too much engaged to attend regularly to our studies, though very well able himself to teach us. Mr Mark Tidey, our tutor, was a character; he was fond of field-sports, but fonder still of books, and had an aptitude for teaching which many professed tutors do not possess. For the sake of indulging in both his fancies, he undertook to instruct us at a very moderate stipend. My father had found him during one of his journeys eastward at a wayside store—which he had visited for the purpose of obtaining a supply of powder and shot—without a cent in his pocket to pay for it. He had been endeavouring to persuade the storekeeper that he would return in the course of a week with a number of skins amply sufficient to pay his debts; but the wary trader, looking at his ungainly figure and discovering that he was a “Britisher,” was unwilling to trust him. Finding that all his arguments were useless, taking a book from his pocket, he had sat down in a corner of the store, philosophically to console himself by its perusal. My father entering found him thus engaged, and glancing his eye on the book, his surprise was considerable to find that it was a copy of one of the Greek classics. My father addressed the stranger, and soon discovered that he was a well-informed man. After some further conversation, he was pretty well satisfied that he was also an honest one. Mr Tidey, finding a person who could sympathise with him, poured forth the history of his adventures and misfortunes. He had come over to America with the intention of establishing a school, but his slender means had been almost exhausted before he could obtain any pupils, his attainments indeed being at that time such as were not generally required in the States. Believing that he could replenish his exhausted exchequer more satisfactorily by means of his gun than in any other way, he had come westward; but the game of which he was in search he found had been driven further into the wilderness than he had expected, and an illness of some weeks’ duration had entirely emptied his purse. He had notwithstanding, trudged boldly forward, though the game he killed had been barely sufficient to supply himself with the necessaries of life. From several letters and other documents which he exhibited, my father, being convinced that Mr Tidey had given a true account of himself, invited him to Uphill farm. The poor man jumped at the offer.“With all the pleasure in the world, my dear sir,” he answered, the tears starting to his eyes. “You have boys to teach, I’ll teach them. If you’ve game to be shot, I’ll shoot it. If you’ve accounts to be kept, I’ll keep them. If you’ve any other work to be performed, which a gentleman and a man of honour can perform, I’ll undertake it. You would not ask me, I am sure, to do anything derogatory to my character.”My father, however, did not accept his offer at once, wishing to see more of the stranger before he confided us to his care.“I have a spare horse, and shall be happy if you will accompany me to Uphill,” said my father.“I am not much accustomed to equestrian exercise, but I’ll try,” answered Mr Tidey; “and unless you have five-bar gates to leap, and the boundless prairie to gallop over, I trust that I shall stick on the back of the animal. I don’t like to be defeated, and I should not like to abandon the undertaking on account of my want of equestrian skill. Practice makes perfect; in the course of a few days I may perchance become an expert horseman.”As dinner was about to be served, my father invited Mr Tidey to join him, and from the voracious way in which he shovelled the food into his mouth, it was very evident that he had long been a stranger to a satisfactory meal.The horses being rested, my father ordered Peter, who had left my Uncle’s service, to bring out the steed he intended for his new acquaintance. Mr Tidey showed his ignorance of horsemanship by attempting, in the first instance, to mount from the wrong side, until a hint from Peter made him try the other, when, aided by the black, he scrambled up into the saddle. My father had advised him to let Peter carry his rifle and his slightly furnished knapsack, a fortunate circumstance, as was proved by the sequel. As long as the horse continued walking Mr Tidey kept his seat with becoming dignity, endeavouring to imitate the way my father held his rein, though he shoved his feet far into the stirrups. At length, coming to an even piece of road, my father put his horse into a trot. For some minutes Mr Tidey bore the jolting to which the movement subjected him with wonderful patience, until my father heard him shriek out—“O captain, captain! for the love of heaven stop, or I shall be worn down to the bones.”My father accordingly drew up, to allow his companion to recover himself. After a time he again proposed moving forward.“I’ll try, captain, I’ll try,” was the answer, “fortes fortuna juvat; but I wish that my steed could manage to move forward in a fashion less calculated to stir up the bile in my system, than that he has hitherto adopted.”“A canter, or an easy gallop would suit you best,” answered my father; “try him with a touch of your whip behind, and give a gentle jerk with your left rein. Now, away we go!” and both steeds broke into a canter, exchanging it in a short time for a gallop.“Very pleasant, very pleasant; I only hope that my nag won’t run away altogether,” said Mr Tidey.“No fear of that,” answered my father; “keep a sufficiently tight hold on your rein, and he’ll go on well enough.”As long as the ground was level his companion stuck on to admiration, but at length, coming to a rough part, his steed gave a bound over it, swerving on one side and shooting his rider, fortunately, into the middle of a bush, from which my father saw him struggling desperately to get free. Having caught the horse, my father pulled up.“Nil desperandum! I’ll try again,” cried Mr Tidey; “but I should be obliged to the animal not to play me such another trick.”“You must be prepared for such tricks,” answered my father, calling Peter to hold the horse.The Dominie at once bravely remounted, and the party moved forward, but before long he was again pitched off into the bed of a stream which flowed by the road-side, happily without any other damage than a thorough wetting.“It won’t do, captain, it won’t do!” he cried; “I must trust to my feet, and I may hope some day or other to reach your hospitable home. Give me directions how to find it, and let me have my gun and the ammunition you were kind enough to obtain for me, and I doubt not but that in due course I shall present myself at your gate; the exercise will dry my clothes, and my gun will afford me as much food as I require; I am accustomed to the vicissitudes of fortune.”My father being anxious to get home, and suspecting that Mr Tidey would still further delay him, somewhat reluctantly consented to his proposal, and slipping a couple of dollars into his hand, told Peter to give him back his rifle and knapsack, with his powder-horn and shot-belt.“A thousand thanks, a thousand thanks!” exclaimed Mr Tidey; “I shall think better of the world in future than I have been inclined to do for some time past.”On leaving Mr Tidey my father had some doubts whether he should ever see him again. He had, however, thought on his way home of the conversation which had taken place between them, and came to the conclusion that he was honest. That he intended to fulfil his promise was proved by his appearance about ten days afterwards, with a load on his back.“I’ve not been idle, captain, I was anxious to return your kindness,” he said. “The country abounds with game, and I could live here in contentment for the rest of my days, provided I could occasionally indulge in a little literary recreation.”From that day Mr Tidey became domesticated in our family. My father being convinced that he was a man of sterling worth, we were duly placed under his care, and immediately he set to work to afford us the instruction which it must be confessed we at the time greatly needed. We made rapid progress, an evidence that he possessed the art of teaching; and, as Kathleen grew older, she also came in for her lessons.Mr Tidey was of opinion, much to our satisfaction, that all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy; and we consequently spent a portion of each day in shooting or trapping, often making excursions to a considerable distance from home. Sometimes in summer we camped out for several days together. On these occasions we gained a considerable amount of information from our worthy tutor on natural history.“You shall have a lesson now from the book of nature,” he used to say when we started. “It is a big book, and, if studied carefully, more knowledge can be gained from it than from any other source. It might not be of so much use in the great cities down east, but I opine that you are not likely to spend much of your time in that direction, and it is well worth obtaining for many reasons, besides the satisfaction knowledge always affords.”We used to start with our rifles in our hands and our knapsacks on our backs, making our beds at night on a heap of leaves, the blue vault of heaven for our only covering; or, when the sky looked threatening, we either built a hut of boughs or occasionally took shelter in the log hut of one of the pioneers of civilisation, as the hardy backwoodsmen are called, although, in most instances, but little civilised themselves. We preferred, however, taking up our abode at night in a bower of our own construction.We met with many adventures, but, owing to Mr Tidey’s caution and judgment—though sometimes we were exposed to dangers—we always escaped from them without any serious mishap.We had had several encounters with bears and wolves, and now and then we met with more formidable enemies in the shape of a party of Shawanees who had ventured back to their old hunting-ground in search of game, or in the hopes of stealing the sheep or hogs of some solitary settler.Our tutor always spoke them fair and showed them that he was not afraid, and if we had any game, presented it to them as a mark of his friendship. When we came across an Indian trail we took good care to keep a bright look-out on every side and a strict watch at night, so as to prevent being surprised, lest the Indians might be tempted to murder us for the sake of obtaining our arms and ammunition, unable to resist the desire of possessing what to them would be a rich prize.I must not step to describe more minutely our adventures at that period, interesting as they were to us. I will however narrate the particulars of a curious incident which occurred during one of our excursions.We had gone further west than usual, and were traversing a space of low-lying land through which a wide stream flowed onwards towards the Mississippi. We had expected to reach some higher ground where we could camp, when we found that the day was drawing to a close. We accordingly looked out for a dry spot, free from long grass, on which we could light our fire and spend the night. Some rocky ground just ahead, amid which grew a number of small trees and bushes, promised to offer us the sort of place we were looking for.We had just reached it, when I, happening to be a little in advance of our Dominie and Dan, saw a squirrel running along the ground towards a tree, with the evident intention of ascending it. We had already as much game as we required, so I refrained from firing. Just as the little creature had gained the foot of the tree, the ominous sound produced by the tail of a rattle-snake reached my ear, and the next instant an unusually large reptile of that species, darting forward, seized the innocent squirrel by the head, and began to draw it down its throat, the hind-legs of the little animal still convulsively moving.I beckoned to Mr Tidey and Dan, who ran forward to witness the operation, in which I knew they would be much interested. Of course we could quickly have put an end to the snake, though we could not have saved its victim. The reptile had got half the body of the squirrel down its throat, when I saw the long grass close at hand violently agitated, and caught sight of a large black snake moving rapidly through it. The two creatures were well matched as to size. It was the evident intention of the black snake to attack the other. Instead of attempting to escape with its prize, the rattle-snake, though it could not use its venomous fangs, which would have given it an advantage over its opponent, whose teeth were unprovided with a poison-bag, advanced to the encounter. In an instant the two creatures had flown at each other, forming a writhing mass of apparently inextricable coils. In vain the rattle-snake attempted to get down the squirrel so as to use its fangs, the animal sticking in its throat could neither be swallowed nor ejected. The struggle was truly fearful to look at. Round and round they twisted and turned their lithe bodies. In the excitement of the moment we cheered on the combatants, who appeared perfectly heedless of our cries. By the most wonderful movements the rattle-snake managed to prevent the black snake from seizing its neck with its sharp teeth, or coiling its lithe tail round the other.Had the rattle-snake succeeded in swallowing the little squirrel, one bite with its venomous fangs would have gained it the victory. For some time the result of the combat appeared indecisive. In point of size the two creatures were tolerably well matched, both being upwards of six or seven feet long, with bodies of about equal thickness, but they differed greatly in the shape of their heads, and still more so in the form of their tails, that of the black snake being round and tapering to a fine point, while the thick rattle of the other was clearly discernible as they writhed and twisted round and round, its sound never ceasing while the deadly struggle continued; that and the angry hiss emitted by both alone broke the perfect silence which otherwise reigned around. At length the black snake succeeded in seizing the body of its antagonist at some distance from the head, when by a sudden whisk it encircled with its long tail the neck of the more venomous reptile. It then gradually drew the body of the latter within its coils until it had firmly secured its throat. In vain the rattle-snake attempted to free itself. At length, to our infinite satisfaction we saw the head of the venomous reptile drop towards the ground, and we no longer heard the rattle of its tail; still the black snake, which had from the first kept its sharp eyes intently fixed on those of the rattle-snake, did not appear satisfied that life was extinct, but held it in a fast embrace, carefully avoiding the risk of a puncture from its fangs.“Hurrah!” shouted Dan when he saw the victory gained by the black snake. The reptile, the combat being now over, was startled by the sound of his voice. For an instant it looked at us with head erect, as if about to spring forward to the attack, when Dan, before Mr Tidey could stop him, lifted his rifle and fired. The big snake fell, and, after a few convulsive struggles, was dead beside its conquered foe.“I wish that you had let the creature live,” said Mr Tidey; “it would have done us no harm and deserved to go free; besides which it would probably have killed a number more rattlesnakes.”“Unless bitten itself,” I remarked.“It was too wary a creature and too rapid in its movements to be taken at a disadvantage,” observed Mr Tidey. “It would have waited until it could catch another rattle-snake taking its dinner. However, as the creature is killed, we will examine it and see how it differs from the venomous reptile. To prevent the other from coming to life, we will make sure work by cutting off its head.”“Be careful,” cried Dan, “I thought I saw its body move.”Taking his axe from his belt, our tutor, with one blow, severed the head from the body.“Don’t prick your finger with its sharp fangs,” said Mr Tidey, “for, although the creature is dead, the poison may exude and perhaps produce death even now.”As he spoke he held up the head by the tail of the squirrel. The body of the little creature had begun to swell and filled the whole of the snake’s mouth. Taking out a sharp knife and pressing the head of the snake with his axe, he cut open its jaws so as to expose both the upper and lower portions; by this means also he extracted the body of the squirrel. He then showed us its poison fangs, which, on removing the little animal, folded back into the upper jaw, on the sides of which they were placed. The points were as sharp and fine as needles. He then cut out from each side of the head, close to the root of the fangs, the venom-bags.“You see that, to enable the head to contain these bags, it is very much broader than that of the harmless snake,” he observed. “We shall find the same breadth of head in all the venomous species. The bags contain between them about eight drops of poison, one of which would be sufficient, introduced into the blood, to kill a man or a horse. You see round the base of each fang, a mass of muscular tissue. By its means the fang is elevated or depressed. When the snake opens its mouth to strike its victim, the depressing muscles are relaxed, and the opposite series become contracted, causing the fangs to rise up ready for action. Now look through my magnifying glass. You see that the fang is hollow from the base to the point, from the former the poison is pressed up out of the poison-bag and exudes through the fang point, which, as you see, is in the form of a narrow slit on its concave side.”“I don’t see how any liquid could get through that,” observed Dan.“It does though, and quite sufficient comes through to produce a deadly effect. The other teeth enable the serpent to hold its prey, but are not in communication with the poison-bags. I’ll now show you the poison, but we must be very cautious how we handle it,” observed the Dominie.On this he cut open the poison-bags and exhibited a small amount of pale-yellow oil-like substance. He afterwards cleaned his knife carefully, and observed, “So potent is the venom, that even should a small drop remain, and were I to cut my finger, after the lapse of many days, I might fatally poison my blood. And now, to prevent any accident, we will bury the poison-bags and fangs, where they are not likely to do any harm,” he added.Having dug a hole with his axe, he did as he proposed, covering it up with leaves.“And now we will have an examination of the creature’s tail, in which it differs from all other reptiles.”Having cut it off, he held it up, and counted the joints, of which the snake—one of the largest of its species—had twenty. Cutting them apart he showed us how the apparatus was arranged. I could best describe it by saying it looked as if a number of small cups were placed one within the other, flattened on both sides, with rings round the edges and slightly decreasing in size towards the end, the last joint being the smallest and forming a knob. These cups are horny and loosely joined, so as to produce the rattling sound for which the creature is noted. Every year of its life a new joint is supposed to be added, so that the reptile killed by the black snake, must have been twenty years old. Each joint was in form somewhat like the tip end of my thumb. I have often since seen rattlesnakes, though seldom one so large. Generally I have found them coiled up among the dry herbage, with the tip of the tail raised in the centre of the coil. On seeing me approach the creatures have instantly produced a quivering movement of their tails, which made the joints of the rattle shake against each other. I cannot find expressions to describe the sound, but having once heard it I never failed to approach with caution, or to keep out of the creatures’ way.“We will now have a look at the blue or black snake, or, as it is called here, ‘the Racer,’” observed the Dominie, “and a ‘racer’ it is rightly called, for it moves along, as we saw this one do through the grass, at the speed of lightning. When I first saw one I fancied from the noise that it made rushing through the dried grass, that it was a rattle-snake and shot the creature before I discovered that it was of a non-venomous species. It can, however, bite very severely with its sharp teeth, and I once saw a poor man almost frightened to death, believing that he had been bitten by a rattle-snake. You see that the head is supplied with a formidable array of teeth, but its tail is much longer and finer than that of the rattle-snake. It can, however, open its jaws wide enough to gulp down a good-sized bird. It gains its name of the blue or black snake from the colour of its back, which is, as you see, blue-black; while the underside is of an ashen slate hue. The tints vary slightly, and hence the two names. Its tail is fine in the extreme, and enables it to steer its rapid course through the herbage.”We let our Dominie run on, though we were well acquainted with the black snake, for several had at different times come to the farm in search of rats, of which they kill a vast number. My father gave orders that they should not be molested; after remaining, however, for some time, they invariably took their departure, for, as it may be supposed, it is impossible to detain them against their will, as they can climb over high palings or walls and insinuate their bodies into very small holes.The battle and the lecture occupied some time, when we had to hurry in order to get our camp ready for the night. Our first care was to cut a sufficient supply of fire-wood to keep up a good blaze during the night, and as the air in that low situation was somewhat damp, Mr Tidey advised that we should build a hut, which would serve the double purpose of sheltering us from the heavy mist, as well as afford a protection from any wild beasts which might be prowling about. We had killed a couple of turkeys, and as soon as we had got a good pile of hot embers we stuck up our game to roast, Dan having plucked them while I formed the uprights and spits, and Mr Tidey was engaged in erecting the hut. The odour from the roasting turkeys filled the air and was wafted by a light breeze into the recesses of the forest. Preparations for the night were made. We had taken our seats before the fire, with one of the turkeys already placed on a large leaf, which served as a dish, when a rustling sound, accompanied by that of the breaking of branches, reached our ears. Dan and I started to our feet.“Stay quiet!” whispered Mr Tidey, lifting his rifle which lay by his side: “we will see what will happen, no red-skins make those sounds, they would approach far more cautiously.” The sound of the snapping of the branches and underwood increased, and presently we saw a shaggy creature, which, by the light of the fire thrown upon it, we immediately recognised as a huge bear.“What a monster!” cried Dan; “let me shoot it.”“No, no, you might miss; the creature would become dangerous if wounded,” answered the Dominie.We all three were at this time kneeling down with our rifles ready for action. The bear advanced cautiously, sniffing up the odours of the roast turkey, but not liking the glare in his eyes.“Don’t either of you fire until I tell you,” whispered our tutor.The next instant the bear, one of the brown species, raised itself on its hind-legs to look round. The Dominie pulled his trigger. So well aimed was his shot, that “bruin” rolled over, giving a few kicks with his thick legs.“Stay, boys; don’t go near his head until you’re sure that he is dead,” cried the Dominie, who was always very careful of us; and advancing axe in hand, he dealt the prostrate bear a blow, which effectually knocked any life it might have retained out of it.“It’s a pity we are not nearer home, or we might take the skin with us as a trophy,” I observed.“Oh, I’ll carry it!” cried Dan, “provided that I have not to take the head.”“I’ll help you,” said I.“And I’ll relieve you when you get tired,” observed the Dominie. “At all events we will have some bear-steaks for breakfast as a change from turkeys.”That bear, though easily gained, cost us a sleepless night. We had eaten our supper and had just thrown ourselves on our leafy couches, when a low howl was heard, followed by several yelps.“Those are wolves!” cried Mr Tidey, starting up; “they’ll eat the bear and then eat us, if we don’t drive them off.”“They sha’n’t have the bear!” cried Dan; “let’s drag him up to the fire and fight over his body.”“It would be more prudent to skin him and cut off the steaks we may require,” said the Dominie: “we will then drag the body to a distance and allow the wolves to fight over it, so that we can pick them off at our leisure or drive the survivors away when they have done their feast.” Shouting and waving brands in our hands we drove the hungry pack to a distance, where they sat down howling with rage and disappointment while we, by the bright flames of the fire, succeeded in skinning the bear and cutting off the tit-bits; we then, as proposed, dragged the carcase to the borders of the forest-glade in which we were encamped, and returned to our fire with the skin and meat. No sooner had the flames produced by some fresh wood thrown on the fire decreased, than the howling pack drew near the carcase. Concealing ourselves behind our hut, we waited to watch what would next take place. It was evident that the brutes were still wary of the fire, for they approached cautiously: at last one bolder or more hungry than the rest, rushed forward and commenced gnawing at the carcase. His example was followed by his companions. We counted upwards of thirty of the savage creatures, a formidable pack had we been without arms, or a fire, but they caused us no anxiety about our safety. “Now, boys, wait until I give the word, and we’ll fire together,” whispered our Dominie. “I’ll take the one to the right; and you, Mike, take a fellow in the centre; and you, Dan, knock over a third to the left. We may exterminate the whole pack, if we take good aim, as the survivors are sure to kill their wounded companions. Now, fire!”Dan and I did as he desired, and three wolves rolled over. Notwithstanding this the greater part of the pack were too eager in devouring the bear to take much notice of what had occurred. A few, apparently young wolves, who stood at a distance, howling and yelping, afraid to approach while the elders were enjoying their feast, ran back alarmed at the shots. They, however, quickly returned. We immediately reloaded, and at another signal from Mr Tidey again fired. Two more wolves were killed, but Dan only slightly wounded an animal, which went howling away, creating a panic among the outsiders. The rest, still regardless of the death of so many of their number, continued gnawing away at the bear, snarling and yelping, and wrangling over their feast.The third time we fired, with the same success as at first.“We may let them alone for the present until they have eaten up the bear, as there is no chance of their molesting us,” observed Mr Tidey; “and we shall expend too much of our ammunition, if we attempt to kill the whole pack. Let us make up the fire and they will not venture near us.”Although the flames burnt up brightly, the wolves did not appear to be scared by them, but continued as before tearing the carcase to pieces, presenting a surging mass of heads, tails, and bodies twisting and turning and struggling together, while they kept up an incessant chorus of snarls and yelps. The Dominie proposed that we should lie down while he kept watch.“No, no, we will take it by turns to do that,” I observed; “let us draw lots who shall take the first watch; we shall all of us then obtain some sleep and be ready to proceed in the morning.”My proposal was agreed to, three pieces of stick served our purpose held in Dan’s hand. I drew the longest and had the first watch, promising to call the Dominie in a couple of hours. I took good care to keep up a blazing fire, while I paced backwards and forwards, between it and the hut. I had no fear of falling asleep, while the uproar continued, though scarcely had Dan stretched himself on the ground, than his eyes closed, while the snores which proceeded from the spot where the Dominie had thrown himself assured me that he too was in the land of dreams.As the “patriarchs” of the pack had somewhat appeased their hunger, the younger members rushed, in uttering sharp yelps, to which the elders replied with still louder snarls, greatly increasing the horrible din. The Dominie and Dan started up, fancying that the wolves were upon us. Neither of them could after this go to sleep.“Come, Mike, I’ll take your place,” said Mr Tidey. This I declined, for I knew it would be useless to lie down. We therefore all three sat round the fire, hoping that the wolves would at length leave us quiet. The savage brutes, however, having finished the bear began to tear up the bodies of their companions, wrangling over them as they had done over that of bruin.At last the Dominie, losing patience, jumped up exclaiming, “We must drive these brutes off, though they are not worth any more of our powder and shot.”Each of us taking a burning brand, we advanced towards the wolves, and, waving our torches, raised a loud shout. The brutes hearing the noise and seeing us coming, took to flight, disappearing in the depths of the forest. Where the body of the bear had been, part of the skull, and a few of the larger bones alone remained, while most of the wolves had also been torn to pieces and the whole ground round was strewn with the fragments and moist with gore. Disgusted by the sight, we hurried back to our camp.“We shall get some rest now, I hope, for I don’t think the wolves will come near us,” said Dan.“Not so sure about that,” observed the Dominie; “however, we will try and obtain some sleep.”Before our eyes were closed the horrible chorus of howls and yelps and barking recommenced, and continued apparently on every side of our camp; still, while the fire burned brightly, there was no fear of the brutes rushing in on us. To sleep, while those dismal howls broke the stillness of night, was simply impossible. Now the creatures appeared to be coming nearer, now they retreated, now they seemed on this side, now on that; their voices had summoned a fresh pack, who, rushing in, quickly devoured the remainder of the feast. All night long the tumult was kept up. Occasionally Mr Tidey or I rose to attend to the fire. Upon each occasion I caught sight of numerous glaring eyes staring out at us from amid the darkness. As morning approached the sounds gradually ceased, and we had the satisfaction of believing that the wolves had retreated to the recesses of the forest. I immediately fell asleep, and when Mr Tidey roused Dan and me, the sun was already several degrees above the horizon. We breakfasted on some bear-steak, which we had fortunately secured, then set to work to scrape the skin and to pack it up in a tight compass. As we had no wish to carry the skin further than we could help, we put about and steered a course for home, which we calculated it would take us four days to reach. Nothing occurred worth narrating for the next three days.We had still a march of about twenty-five miles to accomplish, and were looking for a convenient spot to camp in near a stream bordered by a wood, when we heard a low moan, which seemed to proceed from no great distance off.“That’s a human voice,” observed Mr Tidey; “some poor fellow wounded by the Indians, or who perhaps has been injured by some other means.”We hunted about, being still uncertain of the exact spot whence the sound proceeded. Again a moan reached our ears, and guided by it we hurried on, when behind a bush we found stretched on the ground, apparently at the last gasp, a negro dressed in the usual costume of the slaves, a rough shirt and loose trousers. His feet were cut and bleeding, probably from the sharp rocks and prickly bushes among which he had passed. He opened his languid eyes as the sound of our footsteps reached his ears, and pointing to his mouth murmured—“Eat, eat,—massa, eat.”Having fortunately the remains of our last dinner in our knapsacks, we were at once able to give him some food, while Mr Tidey poured some rum and water down his throat. The effect was most satisfactory. In a few minutes he was able to sit up, when he gazed at us earnestly.“Where were you wanting to go, my poor fellow?” asked the Dominie in a kind tone.The black’s eye brightened.“Oh, massa, you kind to poor nigger,” he said in a weak voice.“White man or nigger, we are all of the same stock, whatever the philosophers may say to the contrary. I won’t ask where you came from, except you wish to tell us; but perhaps we can help you on your way if you have friends you desire to reach.”I don’t think the black quite understood the Dominie’s remarks, but he comprehended enough to know that they were dictated by a kind spirit and that he might trust us.“You no gib up de poor slave to his hard massa?” he said in a whisper, his voice trembling as if he was divulging a secret on which his life depended.“No, that I’ll not,” said the Dominie; “I don’t hold with those who think they have a right to buy and sell their fellow-creatures, and in my opinion those fellow-creatures are perfectly justified in endeavouring to get away from them, though if I was to say so down east, I might chance to be the victim of ‘Lynch law.’”The countenance of the negro brightened still more.“Dis nigger go whar you go, massa,” he said, attempting to rise. His strength, however, was insufficient for the exertion, and he sank back to the ground.“You are not able to journey yet, and it will take you two or three days to regain your strength,” observed the Dominie; “so we will camp here, boys, and as we are not expected home for a day or two, it will be no great loss to us. We have light enough yet to shoot our suppers, and I heard a turkey ‘gobble’ not far off. You stay by the black man, collect wood for a fire and boughs for a shanty, while I go and try my luck.”Saying this, our kind-hearted tutor took his rifle and soon disappeared in the forest. We, in the meantime, were too much occupied in obeying his directions to put any further questions to the negro, whose eyes, however, were turned towards us as we moved about. We had soon collected sufficient fuel to last us during the night, and then employed ourselves in cutting down some young trees and lopping off some boughs. While thus engaged we heard two shots. A short time afterwards the Dominie appeared, carrying a turkey in one hand and a small fawn over his shoulder.“We’ve food here, boys, for ourselves and enough to set the negro on his legs again,” he exclaimed as he approached us. “Well done, I see you haven’t been idle; now kindle the fire while I fix up the shanty. I should like to get our poor friend here under cover as soon as possible, for more reasons than one, and he’ll be the better for a mug of soup.”The Dominie, among other articles, had carried, I should have said, a small saucepan, which had served to fetch water, boil our tea, and was equally applicable for making a small quantity of soup. While I made up the fire, Dan, having filled the saucepan from the stream, plucked the turkey and cut up a part of it into small pieces. We then put it on to boil. The Dominie in the meantime had flayed the deer and spitted a couple of joints to roast, together with the remainder of the bird. This done, he finished the shanty, into which we lifted the black, and placed him on a bed of small twigs and leaves, a far more comfortable couch than from his appearance we suspected he had enjoyed for a long time. His looks, more than his words, expressed his gratitude, though he continued to murmur—“Tankee, tankee, massa; God bless massa!” his vocabulary not enabling him to use any set phrases.It was dark before the soup was ready. As soon as it was sufficiently cool, and I had added some pepper and salt, I took it to him.“Oh, massa! dis too much good to poor nigger,” he murmured as he supped it up; and almost immediately afterwards sinking back, he fell into a deep slumber.“I don’t care whether the black is a runaway slave or not, but I tell you what, boys, we must be cautious how we proceed with him, the chances are that he is pursued,” said the Dominie as we were seated before the fire eating our ample supper. “If so, the fellows who come after him are likely to treat us with scant courtesy.”“I’m sure my father would wish to help the black, if he is a runaway slave, for he hates the system of slavery as much as any man,” observed Dan.“I tell you what we must do, then,” continued the Dominie, “if any strangers appear, we must keep him inside the hut and cover him up with boughs and leaves. They will scarcely suspect he is with us, and you must leave me to answer any questions they put to us.”“Suppose they have blood-hounds with them, the brutes are sure to scent him out.”“If we see the dogs approaching, we must shoot them without ceremony, and take our chances of the consequences. I am only supposing what may not happen, but we must be prepared for contingencies.”As on other nights, we kept watch, giving Dan a short one, the Dominie and I taking the longest. Our object, however, was to scare away wolves or bears, for no human enemies were likely to approach us during the night.We got up as soon as it was daylight, but the black did not awake until the sun rose and we had finished our breakfast. We gave him some more soup, which suited him better than our own fare, but it was evident that he was still too weak to move.“The chances are that he remains in this state several days, and your mother will become alarmed if you do not make your appearance,” said the Dominie. “You know your way home as well as I do, and I wish that you would set off alone, while I remain with the black. State what has happened, and perhaps your father will think fit to send the waggon to bring us in.”As there appeared no objection to this proposal, Dan and I agreed to start immediately. Tears came into the eyes of the negro when we went into the hut to wish him good-bye.“Oh, massa, you like angel from heaven, so good to poor black fellow,” he exclaimed.We had a pretty long day’s march before us, for although on a beaten road the distance would have been nothing, we had to make our way through forests and across streams and bogs, some pretty rough hills to climb, and valleys to pass. We carried a portion of the venison with us, which was still uncooked, and felt sure that without going out of our way we should be able to kill something or other to serve us for supper should we not reach home in time. At first we had some difficulty in making our way, and without great care we knew that we might be steering too far to the right or left. Every mile we advanced the country became more and more familiar. At noon we camped, lighted a fire, and cooked the venison. We calculated that by this time we had done about twelve miles, so Dan thought, but I was not quite sure of that. There was no means of ascertaining which was right. “At all events, we must not spend much time here,” I exclaimed, as we finished the last of our venison, and jumping up I buckled on my knapsack, and took my rifle in my hand. Dan was in no hurry to start. Seeing that I was determined to go, he got up, and we trudged on together at the same speed as before. We had not got far when, as we reached the brow of a hill, we caught sight of two men on horseback passing along the valley at our feet. We instinctively drew back, hoping that we had not been seen, but their voices reached our ears hailing us.“Hulloa! youngsters, have you seen a nigger-boy running in this direction?” asked one of the men as we drew near.“We have seen no nigger-boy running in this direction,” I replied, such being the fact.“If you do, just take him along with you, and threaten to shoot him if he won’t move; don’t do it though, for he’s worth a heap of dollars, and if you don’t catch him, some one else will.”“It’s not our business to catch runaway slaves,” Dan answered unwisely.“Whew! my young cock sparrow, to whom do you belong?” asked the man, squirting a stream of tobacco juice out of his mouth, which Dan narrowly escaped.“We belong to our father,” answered Dan, “and to no one else.”“And who is your father, master cock-a-hoop?” asked the man.“Call me by my proper name and I’ll answer a civil question.”“You’ll answer whether I put the question civilly or not,” cried the fellow, raising his whip and spurring his horse on towards Dan, on which I brought my rifle to bear on the man, exclaiming—“If you touch my brother, I’ll shoot you, as sure as you’re a living man.”On this he pulled in his rein, while his companion, bursting into a loud laugh, exclaimed—“These young cocks crow loudly! I say, youngsters, who is your father? he must be a smart fellow to own such a pair of bantlings.”“Our father is Captain Loraine who lives at Uphill, and he’s not the person to stand nonsense from you or any other man like you!” exclaimed Dan, whose Irish temper had risen almost to boiling pitch.The strangers, seeing that they could not get much change out of us, rode on; the last man who had spoken bantering his companion on their defeat. I saw the other turn his head several times as though not quite sure that we should not fire after him.“I am glad they didn’t come upon our camp this morning, although as they have no blood-hounds with them, we might have managed to conceal the negro without having had resort to force,” I remarked.“But we should have had to tell lies if they had put questions to us, or have given him up or fought for him,” observed Dan.“Still better reason why we should be thankful that they did not find us,” I answered.We were so excited by what had occurred that we slackened our speed for a considerable way. We were still several miles from home when night overtook us; we had therefore again to camp out. We did not mind this, but we were anxious to get to the farm, to send assistance to our tutor and the poor black. According to our usual plan, we built a shanty, lighted a fire, and one of us sat up to keep the latter blazing. We heard strange sounds during the night, which kept us wakeful, and during my watch I caught sight of a bear, though the fire made him keep at a respectful distance. After surveying us for a few minutes, and not discovering any tempting odour, he slunk away, convinced that he would gain nothing by paying us a visit. When I roused up Dan, I told him to keep a look-out, lest bruin should come back, and lay down to snatch a short sleep, expecting to be roused up again before long. Dan, however, saw nothing during his watch to induce him to call me, so I had my sleep out. I was awakened by feeling him shaking my shoulder.“It is near morning, Mike, I think,” he said; “I suspect that I must have nodded, for the fire is lower than it should be, but I have thrown on some sticks and it will soon be blazing up again.”I sprang to my feet just in time to see a big shaggy beast emerging from the surrounding darkness. I gave a poke to the fire with my foot, it made some dry leaves burst into a flame, and then Dan and I both shouted at the top of our voices. The bear, who had again scented us out, might in another instant have caught Dan or me in his unfriendly embrace; but he stopped short, and then, turning round, retreated much faster than he had come. We did not fire, as we should probably only have wounded him and have excited him to rage.Soon after this daylight broke. Having eaten the remainder of our provisions, we started off, hoping to reach home in three or four hours. We met with no other adventures by the way. The first person we saw on approaching our home was our father. We told him of our discovery of the apparently dying black, and that the dominie had remained behind to take care of the poor fellow.“Mr Tidey has done as I would have had him, and acted the part of the good Samaritan. We’ll send the waggon off at once, to bring him and the negro in,” said my father.Though I wanted to go too, our father declared that we looked so much knocked up from our long tramp and sleepless nights, that we must turn in and get some rest, and he said that he would despatch Peter, who knew the country better than we did, for the purpose.
We had been living at Uphill for some years, the wilderness had been changed into a smiling garden, though I will not say a perfect paradise, for I am very sure that no such spot exists on earth. Our education had not been neglected, for my father had engaged a tutor for Dan and me, when we grew too old for the instruction our mother could give us. Our father was too much engaged to attend regularly to our studies, though very well able himself to teach us. Mr Mark Tidey, our tutor, was a character; he was fond of field-sports, but fonder still of books, and had an aptitude for teaching which many professed tutors do not possess. For the sake of indulging in both his fancies, he undertook to instruct us at a very moderate stipend. My father had found him during one of his journeys eastward at a wayside store—which he had visited for the purpose of obtaining a supply of powder and shot—without a cent in his pocket to pay for it. He had been endeavouring to persuade the storekeeper that he would return in the course of a week with a number of skins amply sufficient to pay his debts; but the wary trader, looking at his ungainly figure and discovering that he was a “Britisher,” was unwilling to trust him. Finding that all his arguments were useless, taking a book from his pocket, he had sat down in a corner of the store, philosophically to console himself by its perusal. My father entering found him thus engaged, and glancing his eye on the book, his surprise was considerable to find that it was a copy of one of the Greek classics. My father addressed the stranger, and soon discovered that he was a well-informed man. After some further conversation, he was pretty well satisfied that he was also an honest one. Mr Tidey, finding a person who could sympathise with him, poured forth the history of his adventures and misfortunes. He had come over to America with the intention of establishing a school, but his slender means had been almost exhausted before he could obtain any pupils, his attainments indeed being at that time such as were not generally required in the States. Believing that he could replenish his exhausted exchequer more satisfactorily by means of his gun than in any other way, he had come westward; but the game of which he was in search he found had been driven further into the wilderness than he had expected, and an illness of some weeks’ duration had entirely emptied his purse. He had notwithstanding, trudged boldly forward, though the game he killed had been barely sufficient to supply himself with the necessaries of life. From several letters and other documents which he exhibited, my father, being convinced that Mr Tidey had given a true account of himself, invited him to Uphill farm. The poor man jumped at the offer.
“With all the pleasure in the world, my dear sir,” he answered, the tears starting to his eyes. “You have boys to teach, I’ll teach them. If you’ve game to be shot, I’ll shoot it. If you’ve accounts to be kept, I’ll keep them. If you’ve any other work to be performed, which a gentleman and a man of honour can perform, I’ll undertake it. You would not ask me, I am sure, to do anything derogatory to my character.”
My father, however, did not accept his offer at once, wishing to see more of the stranger before he confided us to his care.
“I have a spare horse, and shall be happy if you will accompany me to Uphill,” said my father.
“I am not much accustomed to equestrian exercise, but I’ll try,” answered Mr Tidey; “and unless you have five-bar gates to leap, and the boundless prairie to gallop over, I trust that I shall stick on the back of the animal. I don’t like to be defeated, and I should not like to abandon the undertaking on account of my want of equestrian skill. Practice makes perfect; in the course of a few days I may perchance become an expert horseman.”
As dinner was about to be served, my father invited Mr Tidey to join him, and from the voracious way in which he shovelled the food into his mouth, it was very evident that he had long been a stranger to a satisfactory meal.
The horses being rested, my father ordered Peter, who had left my Uncle’s service, to bring out the steed he intended for his new acquaintance. Mr Tidey showed his ignorance of horsemanship by attempting, in the first instance, to mount from the wrong side, until a hint from Peter made him try the other, when, aided by the black, he scrambled up into the saddle. My father had advised him to let Peter carry his rifle and his slightly furnished knapsack, a fortunate circumstance, as was proved by the sequel. As long as the horse continued walking Mr Tidey kept his seat with becoming dignity, endeavouring to imitate the way my father held his rein, though he shoved his feet far into the stirrups. At length, coming to an even piece of road, my father put his horse into a trot. For some minutes Mr Tidey bore the jolting to which the movement subjected him with wonderful patience, until my father heard him shriek out—
“O captain, captain! for the love of heaven stop, or I shall be worn down to the bones.”
My father accordingly drew up, to allow his companion to recover himself. After a time he again proposed moving forward.
“I’ll try, captain, I’ll try,” was the answer, “fortes fortuna juvat; but I wish that my steed could manage to move forward in a fashion less calculated to stir up the bile in my system, than that he has hitherto adopted.”
“A canter, or an easy gallop would suit you best,” answered my father; “try him with a touch of your whip behind, and give a gentle jerk with your left rein. Now, away we go!” and both steeds broke into a canter, exchanging it in a short time for a gallop.
“Very pleasant, very pleasant; I only hope that my nag won’t run away altogether,” said Mr Tidey.
“No fear of that,” answered my father; “keep a sufficiently tight hold on your rein, and he’ll go on well enough.”
As long as the ground was level his companion stuck on to admiration, but at length, coming to a rough part, his steed gave a bound over it, swerving on one side and shooting his rider, fortunately, into the middle of a bush, from which my father saw him struggling desperately to get free. Having caught the horse, my father pulled up.
“Nil desperandum! I’ll try again,” cried Mr Tidey; “but I should be obliged to the animal not to play me such another trick.”
“You must be prepared for such tricks,” answered my father, calling Peter to hold the horse.
The Dominie at once bravely remounted, and the party moved forward, but before long he was again pitched off into the bed of a stream which flowed by the road-side, happily without any other damage than a thorough wetting.
“It won’t do, captain, it won’t do!” he cried; “I must trust to my feet, and I may hope some day or other to reach your hospitable home. Give me directions how to find it, and let me have my gun and the ammunition you were kind enough to obtain for me, and I doubt not but that in due course I shall present myself at your gate; the exercise will dry my clothes, and my gun will afford me as much food as I require; I am accustomed to the vicissitudes of fortune.”
My father being anxious to get home, and suspecting that Mr Tidey would still further delay him, somewhat reluctantly consented to his proposal, and slipping a couple of dollars into his hand, told Peter to give him back his rifle and knapsack, with his powder-horn and shot-belt.
“A thousand thanks, a thousand thanks!” exclaimed Mr Tidey; “I shall think better of the world in future than I have been inclined to do for some time past.”
On leaving Mr Tidey my father had some doubts whether he should ever see him again. He had, however, thought on his way home of the conversation which had taken place between them, and came to the conclusion that he was honest. That he intended to fulfil his promise was proved by his appearance about ten days afterwards, with a load on his back.
“I’ve not been idle, captain, I was anxious to return your kindness,” he said. “The country abounds with game, and I could live here in contentment for the rest of my days, provided I could occasionally indulge in a little literary recreation.”
From that day Mr Tidey became domesticated in our family. My father being convinced that he was a man of sterling worth, we were duly placed under his care, and immediately he set to work to afford us the instruction which it must be confessed we at the time greatly needed. We made rapid progress, an evidence that he possessed the art of teaching; and, as Kathleen grew older, she also came in for her lessons.
Mr Tidey was of opinion, much to our satisfaction, that all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy; and we consequently spent a portion of each day in shooting or trapping, often making excursions to a considerable distance from home. Sometimes in summer we camped out for several days together. On these occasions we gained a considerable amount of information from our worthy tutor on natural history.
“You shall have a lesson now from the book of nature,” he used to say when we started. “It is a big book, and, if studied carefully, more knowledge can be gained from it than from any other source. It might not be of so much use in the great cities down east, but I opine that you are not likely to spend much of your time in that direction, and it is well worth obtaining for many reasons, besides the satisfaction knowledge always affords.”
We used to start with our rifles in our hands and our knapsacks on our backs, making our beds at night on a heap of leaves, the blue vault of heaven for our only covering; or, when the sky looked threatening, we either built a hut of boughs or occasionally took shelter in the log hut of one of the pioneers of civilisation, as the hardy backwoodsmen are called, although, in most instances, but little civilised themselves. We preferred, however, taking up our abode at night in a bower of our own construction.
We met with many adventures, but, owing to Mr Tidey’s caution and judgment—though sometimes we were exposed to dangers—we always escaped from them without any serious mishap.
We had had several encounters with bears and wolves, and now and then we met with more formidable enemies in the shape of a party of Shawanees who had ventured back to their old hunting-ground in search of game, or in the hopes of stealing the sheep or hogs of some solitary settler.
Our tutor always spoke them fair and showed them that he was not afraid, and if we had any game, presented it to them as a mark of his friendship. When we came across an Indian trail we took good care to keep a bright look-out on every side and a strict watch at night, so as to prevent being surprised, lest the Indians might be tempted to murder us for the sake of obtaining our arms and ammunition, unable to resist the desire of possessing what to them would be a rich prize.
I must not step to describe more minutely our adventures at that period, interesting as they were to us. I will however narrate the particulars of a curious incident which occurred during one of our excursions.
We had gone further west than usual, and were traversing a space of low-lying land through which a wide stream flowed onwards towards the Mississippi. We had expected to reach some higher ground where we could camp, when we found that the day was drawing to a close. We accordingly looked out for a dry spot, free from long grass, on which we could light our fire and spend the night. Some rocky ground just ahead, amid which grew a number of small trees and bushes, promised to offer us the sort of place we were looking for.
We had just reached it, when I, happening to be a little in advance of our Dominie and Dan, saw a squirrel running along the ground towards a tree, with the evident intention of ascending it. We had already as much game as we required, so I refrained from firing. Just as the little creature had gained the foot of the tree, the ominous sound produced by the tail of a rattle-snake reached my ear, and the next instant an unusually large reptile of that species, darting forward, seized the innocent squirrel by the head, and began to draw it down its throat, the hind-legs of the little animal still convulsively moving.
I beckoned to Mr Tidey and Dan, who ran forward to witness the operation, in which I knew they would be much interested. Of course we could quickly have put an end to the snake, though we could not have saved its victim. The reptile had got half the body of the squirrel down its throat, when I saw the long grass close at hand violently agitated, and caught sight of a large black snake moving rapidly through it. The two creatures were well matched as to size. It was the evident intention of the black snake to attack the other. Instead of attempting to escape with its prize, the rattle-snake, though it could not use its venomous fangs, which would have given it an advantage over its opponent, whose teeth were unprovided with a poison-bag, advanced to the encounter. In an instant the two creatures had flown at each other, forming a writhing mass of apparently inextricable coils. In vain the rattle-snake attempted to get down the squirrel so as to use its fangs, the animal sticking in its throat could neither be swallowed nor ejected. The struggle was truly fearful to look at. Round and round they twisted and turned their lithe bodies. In the excitement of the moment we cheered on the combatants, who appeared perfectly heedless of our cries. By the most wonderful movements the rattle-snake managed to prevent the black snake from seizing its neck with its sharp teeth, or coiling its lithe tail round the other.
Had the rattle-snake succeeded in swallowing the little squirrel, one bite with its venomous fangs would have gained it the victory. For some time the result of the combat appeared indecisive. In point of size the two creatures were tolerably well matched, both being upwards of six or seven feet long, with bodies of about equal thickness, but they differed greatly in the shape of their heads, and still more so in the form of their tails, that of the black snake being round and tapering to a fine point, while the thick rattle of the other was clearly discernible as they writhed and twisted round and round, its sound never ceasing while the deadly struggle continued; that and the angry hiss emitted by both alone broke the perfect silence which otherwise reigned around. At length the black snake succeeded in seizing the body of its antagonist at some distance from the head, when by a sudden whisk it encircled with its long tail the neck of the more venomous reptile. It then gradually drew the body of the latter within its coils until it had firmly secured its throat. In vain the rattle-snake attempted to free itself. At length, to our infinite satisfaction we saw the head of the venomous reptile drop towards the ground, and we no longer heard the rattle of its tail; still the black snake, which had from the first kept its sharp eyes intently fixed on those of the rattle-snake, did not appear satisfied that life was extinct, but held it in a fast embrace, carefully avoiding the risk of a puncture from its fangs.
“Hurrah!” shouted Dan when he saw the victory gained by the black snake. The reptile, the combat being now over, was startled by the sound of his voice. For an instant it looked at us with head erect, as if about to spring forward to the attack, when Dan, before Mr Tidey could stop him, lifted his rifle and fired. The big snake fell, and, after a few convulsive struggles, was dead beside its conquered foe.
“I wish that you had let the creature live,” said Mr Tidey; “it would have done us no harm and deserved to go free; besides which it would probably have killed a number more rattlesnakes.”
“Unless bitten itself,” I remarked.
“It was too wary a creature and too rapid in its movements to be taken at a disadvantage,” observed Mr Tidey. “It would have waited until it could catch another rattle-snake taking its dinner. However, as the creature is killed, we will examine it and see how it differs from the venomous reptile. To prevent the other from coming to life, we will make sure work by cutting off its head.”
“Be careful,” cried Dan, “I thought I saw its body move.”
Taking his axe from his belt, our tutor, with one blow, severed the head from the body.
“Don’t prick your finger with its sharp fangs,” said Mr Tidey, “for, although the creature is dead, the poison may exude and perhaps produce death even now.”
As he spoke he held up the head by the tail of the squirrel. The body of the little creature had begun to swell and filled the whole of the snake’s mouth. Taking out a sharp knife and pressing the head of the snake with his axe, he cut open its jaws so as to expose both the upper and lower portions; by this means also he extracted the body of the squirrel. He then showed us its poison fangs, which, on removing the little animal, folded back into the upper jaw, on the sides of which they were placed. The points were as sharp and fine as needles. He then cut out from each side of the head, close to the root of the fangs, the venom-bags.
“You see that, to enable the head to contain these bags, it is very much broader than that of the harmless snake,” he observed. “We shall find the same breadth of head in all the venomous species. The bags contain between them about eight drops of poison, one of which would be sufficient, introduced into the blood, to kill a man or a horse. You see round the base of each fang, a mass of muscular tissue. By its means the fang is elevated or depressed. When the snake opens its mouth to strike its victim, the depressing muscles are relaxed, and the opposite series become contracted, causing the fangs to rise up ready for action. Now look through my magnifying glass. You see that the fang is hollow from the base to the point, from the former the poison is pressed up out of the poison-bag and exudes through the fang point, which, as you see, is in the form of a narrow slit on its concave side.”
“I don’t see how any liquid could get through that,” observed Dan.
“It does though, and quite sufficient comes through to produce a deadly effect. The other teeth enable the serpent to hold its prey, but are not in communication with the poison-bags. I’ll now show you the poison, but we must be very cautious how we handle it,” observed the Dominie.
On this he cut open the poison-bags and exhibited a small amount of pale-yellow oil-like substance. He afterwards cleaned his knife carefully, and observed, “So potent is the venom, that even should a small drop remain, and were I to cut my finger, after the lapse of many days, I might fatally poison my blood. And now, to prevent any accident, we will bury the poison-bags and fangs, where they are not likely to do any harm,” he added.
Having dug a hole with his axe, he did as he proposed, covering it up with leaves.
“And now we will have an examination of the creature’s tail, in which it differs from all other reptiles.”
Having cut it off, he held it up, and counted the joints, of which the snake—one of the largest of its species—had twenty. Cutting them apart he showed us how the apparatus was arranged. I could best describe it by saying it looked as if a number of small cups were placed one within the other, flattened on both sides, with rings round the edges and slightly decreasing in size towards the end, the last joint being the smallest and forming a knob. These cups are horny and loosely joined, so as to produce the rattling sound for which the creature is noted. Every year of its life a new joint is supposed to be added, so that the reptile killed by the black snake, must have been twenty years old. Each joint was in form somewhat like the tip end of my thumb. I have often since seen rattlesnakes, though seldom one so large. Generally I have found them coiled up among the dry herbage, with the tip of the tail raised in the centre of the coil. On seeing me approach the creatures have instantly produced a quivering movement of their tails, which made the joints of the rattle shake against each other. I cannot find expressions to describe the sound, but having once heard it I never failed to approach with caution, or to keep out of the creatures’ way.
“We will now have a look at the blue or black snake, or, as it is called here, ‘the Racer,’” observed the Dominie, “and a ‘racer’ it is rightly called, for it moves along, as we saw this one do through the grass, at the speed of lightning. When I first saw one I fancied from the noise that it made rushing through the dried grass, that it was a rattle-snake and shot the creature before I discovered that it was of a non-venomous species. It can, however, bite very severely with its sharp teeth, and I once saw a poor man almost frightened to death, believing that he had been bitten by a rattle-snake. You see that the head is supplied with a formidable array of teeth, but its tail is much longer and finer than that of the rattle-snake. It can, however, open its jaws wide enough to gulp down a good-sized bird. It gains its name of the blue or black snake from the colour of its back, which is, as you see, blue-black; while the underside is of an ashen slate hue. The tints vary slightly, and hence the two names. Its tail is fine in the extreme, and enables it to steer its rapid course through the herbage.”
We let our Dominie run on, though we were well acquainted with the black snake, for several had at different times come to the farm in search of rats, of which they kill a vast number. My father gave orders that they should not be molested; after remaining, however, for some time, they invariably took their departure, for, as it may be supposed, it is impossible to detain them against their will, as they can climb over high palings or walls and insinuate their bodies into very small holes.
The battle and the lecture occupied some time, when we had to hurry in order to get our camp ready for the night. Our first care was to cut a sufficient supply of fire-wood to keep up a good blaze during the night, and as the air in that low situation was somewhat damp, Mr Tidey advised that we should build a hut, which would serve the double purpose of sheltering us from the heavy mist, as well as afford a protection from any wild beasts which might be prowling about. We had killed a couple of turkeys, and as soon as we had got a good pile of hot embers we stuck up our game to roast, Dan having plucked them while I formed the uprights and spits, and Mr Tidey was engaged in erecting the hut. The odour from the roasting turkeys filled the air and was wafted by a light breeze into the recesses of the forest. Preparations for the night were made. We had taken our seats before the fire, with one of the turkeys already placed on a large leaf, which served as a dish, when a rustling sound, accompanied by that of the breaking of branches, reached our ears. Dan and I started to our feet.
“Stay quiet!” whispered Mr Tidey, lifting his rifle which lay by his side: “we will see what will happen, no red-skins make those sounds, they would approach far more cautiously.” The sound of the snapping of the branches and underwood increased, and presently we saw a shaggy creature, which, by the light of the fire thrown upon it, we immediately recognised as a huge bear.
“What a monster!” cried Dan; “let me shoot it.”
“No, no, you might miss; the creature would become dangerous if wounded,” answered the Dominie.
We all three were at this time kneeling down with our rifles ready for action. The bear advanced cautiously, sniffing up the odours of the roast turkey, but not liking the glare in his eyes.
“Don’t either of you fire until I tell you,” whispered our tutor.
The next instant the bear, one of the brown species, raised itself on its hind-legs to look round. The Dominie pulled his trigger. So well aimed was his shot, that “bruin” rolled over, giving a few kicks with his thick legs.
“Stay, boys; don’t go near his head until you’re sure that he is dead,” cried the Dominie, who was always very careful of us; and advancing axe in hand, he dealt the prostrate bear a blow, which effectually knocked any life it might have retained out of it.
“It’s a pity we are not nearer home, or we might take the skin with us as a trophy,” I observed.
“Oh, I’ll carry it!” cried Dan, “provided that I have not to take the head.”
“I’ll help you,” said I.
“And I’ll relieve you when you get tired,” observed the Dominie. “At all events we will have some bear-steaks for breakfast as a change from turkeys.”
That bear, though easily gained, cost us a sleepless night. We had eaten our supper and had just thrown ourselves on our leafy couches, when a low howl was heard, followed by several yelps.
“Those are wolves!” cried Mr Tidey, starting up; “they’ll eat the bear and then eat us, if we don’t drive them off.”
“They sha’n’t have the bear!” cried Dan; “let’s drag him up to the fire and fight over his body.”
“It would be more prudent to skin him and cut off the steaks we may require,” said the Dominie: “we will then drag the body to a distance and allow the wolves to fight over it, so that we can pick them off at our leisure or drive the survivors away when they have done their feast.” Shouting and waving brands in our hands we drove the hungry pack to a distance, where they sat down howling with rage and disappointment while we, by the bright flames of the fire, succeeded in skinning the bear and cutting off the tit-bits; we then, as proposed, dragged the carcase to the borders of the forest-glade in which we were encamped, and returned to our fire with the skin and meat. No sooner had the flames produced by some fresh wood thrown on the fire decreased, than the howling pack drew near the carcase. Concealing ourselves behind our hut, we waited to watch what would next take place. It was evident that the brutes were still wary of the fire, for they approached cautiously: at last one bolder or more hungry than the rest, rushed forward and commenced gnawing at the carcase. His example was followed by his companions. We counted upwards of thirty of the savage creatures, a formidable pack had we been without arms, or a fire, but they caused us no anxiety about our safety. “Now, boys, wait until I give the word, and we’ll fire together,” whispered our Dominie. “I’ll take the one to the right; and you, Mike, take a fellow in the centre; and you, Dan, knock over a third to the left. We may exterminate the whole pack, if we take good aim, as the survivors are sure to kill their wounded companions. Now, fire!”
Dan and I did as he desired, and three wolves rolled over. Notwithstanding this the greater part of the pack were too eager in devouring the bear to take much notice of what had occurred. A few, apparently young wolves, who stood at a distance, howling and yelping, afraid to approach while the elders were enjoying their feast, ran back alarmed at the shots. They, however, quickly returned. We immediately reloaded, and at another signal from Mr Tidey again fired. Two more wolves were killed, but Dan only slightly wounded an animal, which went howling away, creating a panic among the outsiders. The rest, still regardless of the death of so many of their number, continued gnawing away at the bear, snarling and yelping, and wrangling over their feast.
The third time we fired, with the same success as at first.
“We may let them alone for the present until they have eaten up the bear, as there is no chance of their molesting us,” observed Mr Tidey; “and we shall expend too much of our ammunition, if we attempt to kill the whole pack. Let us make up the fire and they will not venture near us.”
Although the flames burnt up brightly, the wolves did not appear to be scared by them, but continued as before tearing the carcase to pieces, presenting a surging mass of heads, tails, and bodies twisting and turning and struggling together, while they kept up an incessant chorus of snarls and yelps. The Dominie proposed that we should lie down while he kept watch.
“No, no, we will take it by turns to do that,” I observed; “let us draw lots who shall take the first watch; we shall all of us then obtain some sleep and be ready to proceed in the morning.”
My proposal was agreed to, three pieces of stick served our purpose held in Dan’s hand. I drew the longest and had the first watch, promising to call the Dominie in a couple of hours. I took good care to keep up a blazing fire, while I paced backwards and forwards, between it and the hut. I had no fear of falling asleep, while the uproar continued, though scarcely had Dan stretched himself on the ground, than his eyes closed, while the snores which proceeded from the spot where the Dominie had thrown himself assured me that he too was in the land of dreams.
As the “patriarchs” of the pack had somewhat appeased their hunger, the younger members rushed, in uttering sharp yelps, to which the elders replied with still louder snarls, greatly increasing the horrible din. The Dominie and Dan started up, fancying that the wolves were upon us. Neither of them could after this go to sleep.
“Come, Mike, I’ll take your place,” said Mr Tidey. This I declined, for I knew it would be useless to lie down. We therefore all three sat round the fire, hoping that the wolves would at length leave us quiet. The savage brutes, however, having finished the bear began to tear up the bodies of their companions, wrangling over them as they had done over that of bruin.
At last the Dominie, losing patience, jumped up exclaiming, “We must drive these brutes off, though they are not worth any more of our powder and shot.”
Each of us taking a burning brand, we advanced towards the wolves, and, waving our torches, raised a loud shout. The brutes hearing the noise and seeing us coming, took to flight, disappearing in the depths of the forest. Where the body of the bear had been, part of the skull, and a few of the larger bones alone remained, while most of the wolves had also been torn to pieces and the whole ground round was strewn with the fragments and moist with gore. Disgusted by the sight, we hurried back to our camp.
“We shall get some rest now, I hope, for I don’t think the wolves will come near us,” said Dan.
“Not so sure about that,” observed the Dominie; “however, we will try and obtain some sleep.”
Before our eyes were closed the horrible chorus of howls and yelps and barking recommenced, and continued apparently on every side of our camp; still, while the fire burned brightly, there was no fear of the brutes rushing in on us. To sleep, while those dismal howls broke the stillness of night, was simply impossible. Now the creatures appeared to be coming nearer, now they retreated, now they seemed on this side, now on that; their voices had summoned a fresh pack, who, rushing in, quickly devoured the remainder of the feast. All night long the tumult was kept up. Occasionally Mr Tidey or I rose to attend to the fire. Upon each occasion I caught sight of numerous glaring eyes staring out at us from amid the darkness. As morning approached the sounds gradually ceased, and we had the satisfaction of believing that the wolves had retreated to the recesses of the forest. I immediately fell asleep, and when Mr Tidey roused Dan and me, the sun was already several degrees above the horizon. We breakfasted on some bear-steak, which we had fortunately secured, then set to work to scrape the skin and to pack it up in a tight compass. As we had no wish to carry the skin further than we could help, we put about and steered a course for home, which we calculated it would take us four days to reach. Nothing occurred worth narrating for the next three days.
We had still a march of about twenty-five miles to accomplish, and were looking for a convenient spot to camp in near a stream bordered by a wood, when we heard a low moan, which seemed to proceed from no great distance off.
“That’s a human voice,” observed Mr Tidey; “some poor fellow wounded by the Indians, or who perhaps has been injured by some other means.”
We hunted about, being still uncertain of the exact spot whence the sound proceeded. Again a moan reached our ears, and guided by it we hurried on, when behind a bush we found stretched on the ground, apparently at the last gasp, a negro dressed in the usual costume of the slaves, a rough shirt and loose trousers. His feet were cut and bleeding, probably from the sharp rocks and prickly bushes among which he had passed. He opened his languid eyes as the sound of our footsteps reached his ears, and pointing to his mouth murmured—
“Eat, eat,—massa, eat.”
Having fortunately the remains of our last dinner in our knapsacks, we were at once able to give him some food, while Mr Tidey poured some rum and water down his throat. The effect was most satisfactory. In a few minutes he was able to sit up, when he gazed at us earnestly.
“Where were you wanting to go, my poor fellow?” asked the Dominie in a kind tone.
The black’s eye brightened.
“Oh, massa, you kind to poor nigger,” he said in a weak voice.
“White man or nigger, we are all of the same stock, whatever the philosophers may say to the contrary. I won’t ask where you came from, except you wish to tell us; but perhaps we can help you on your way if you have friends you desire to reach.”
I don’t think the black quite understood the Dominie’s remarks, but he comprehended enough to know that they were dictated by a kind spirit and that he might trust us.
“You no gib up de poor slave to his hard massa?” he said in a whisper, his voice trembling as if he was divulging a secret on which his life depended.
“No, that I’ll not,” said the Dominie; “I don’t hold with those who think they have a right to buy and sell their fellow-creatures, and in my opinion those fellow-creatures are perfectly justified in endeavouring to get away from them, though if I was to say so down east, I might chance to be the victim of ‘Lynch law.’”
The countenance of the negro brightened still more.
“Dis nigger go whar you go, massa,” he said, attempting to rise. His strength, however, was insufficient for the exertion, and he sank back to the ground.
“You are not able to journey yet, and it will take you two or three days to regain your strength,” observed the Dominie; “so we will camp here, boys, and as we are not expected home for a day or two, it will be no great loss to us. We have light enough yet to shoot our suppers, and I heard a turkey ‘gobble’ not far off. You stay by the black man, collect wood for a fire and boughs for a shanty, while I go and try my luck.”
Saying this, our kind-hearted tutor took his rifle and soon disappeared in the forest. We, in the meantime, were too much occupied in obeying his directions to put any further questions to the negro, whose eyes, however, were turned towards us as we moved about. We had soon collected sufficient fuel to last us during the night, and then employed ourselves in cutting down some young trees and lopping off some boughs. While thus engaged we heard two shots. A short time afterwards the Dominie appeared, carrying a turkey in one hand and a small fawn over his shoulder.
“We’ve food here, boys, for ourselves and enough to set the negro on his legs again,” he exclaimed as he approached us. “Well done, I see you haven’t been idle; now kindle the fire while I fix up the shanty. I should like to get our poor friend here under cover as soon as possible, for more reasons than one, and he’ll be the better for a mug of soup.”
The Dominie, among other articles, had carried, I should have said, a small saucepan, which had served to fetch water, boil our tea, and was equally applicable for making a small quantity of soup. While I made up the fire, Dan, having filled the saucepan from the stream, plucked the turkey and cut up a part of it into small pieces. We then put it on to boil. The Dominie in the meantime had flayed the deer and spitted a couple of joints to roast, together with the remainder of the bird. This done, he finished the shanty, into which we lifted the black, and placed him on a bed of small twigs and leaves, a far more comfortable couch than from his appearance we suspected he had enjoyed for a long time. His looks, more than his words, expressed his gratitude, though he continued to murmur—
“Tankee, tankee, massa; God bless massa!” his vocabulary not enabling him to use any set phrases.
It was dark before the soup was ready. As soon as it was sufficiently cool, and I had added some pepper and salt, I took it to him.
“Oh, massa! dis too much good to poor nigger,” he murmured as he supped it up; and almost immediately afterwards sinking back, he fell into a deep slumber.
“I don’t care whether the black is a runaway slave or not, but I tell you what, boys, we must be cautious how we proceed with him, the chances are that he is pursued,” said the Dominie as we were seated before the fire eating our ample supper. “If so, the fellows who come after him are likely to treat us with scant courtesy.”
“I’m sure my father would wish to help the black, if he is a runaway slave, for he hates the system of slavery as much as any man,” observed Dan.
“I tell you what we must do, then,” continued the Dominie, “if any strangers appear, we must keep him inside the hut and cover him up with boughs and leaves. They will scarcely suspect he is with us, and you must leave me to answer any questions they put to us.”
“Suppose they have blood-hounds with them, the brutes are sure to scent him out.”
“If we see the dogs approaching, we must shoot them without ceremony, and take our chances of the consequences. I am only supposing what may not happen, but we must be prepared for contingencies.”
As on other nights, we kept watch, giving Dan a short one, the Dominie and I taking the longest. Our object, however, was to scare away wolves or bears, for no human enemies were likely to approach us during the night.
We got up as soon as it was daylight, but the black did not awake until the sun rose and we had finished our breakfast. We gave him some more soup, which suited him better than our own fare, but it was evident that he was still too weak to move.
“The chances are that he remains in this state several days, and your mother will become alarmed if you do not make your appearance,” said the Dominie. “You know your way home as well as I do, and I wish that you would set off alone, while I remain with the black. State what has happened, and perhaps your father will think fit to send the waggon to bring us in.”
As there appeared no objection to this proposal, Dan and I agreed to start immediately. Tears came into the eyes of the negro when we went into the hut to wish him good-bye.
“Oh, massa, you like angel from heaven, so good to poor black fellow,” he exclaimed.
We had a pretty long day’s march before us, for although on a beaten road the distance would have been nothing, we had to make our way through forests and across streams and bogs, some pretty rough hills to climb, and valleys to pass. We carried a portion of the venison with us, which was still uncooked, and felt sure that without going out of our way we should be able to kill something or other to serve us for supper should we not reach home in time. At first we had some difficulty in making our way, and without great care we knew that we might be steering too far to the right or left. Every mile we advanced the country became more and more familiar. At noon we camped, lighted a fire, and cooked the venison. We calculated that by this time we had done about twelve miles, so Dan thought, but I was not quite sure of that. There was no means of ascertaining which was right. “At all events, we must not spend much time here,” I exclaimed, as we finished the last of our venison, and jumping up I buckled on my knapsack, and took my rifle in my hand. Dan was in no hurry to start. Seeing that I was determined to go, he got up, and we trudged on together at the same speed as before. We had not got far when, as we reached the brow of a hill, we caught sight of two men on horseback passing along the valley at our feet. We instinctively drew back, hoping that we had not been seen, but their voices reached our ears hailing us.
“Hulloa! youngsters, have you seen a nigger-boy running in this direction?” asked one of the men as we drew near.
“We have seen no nigger-boy running in this direction,” I replied, such being the fact.
“If you do, just take him along with you, and threaten to shoot him if he won’t move; don’t do it though, for he’s worth a heap of dollars, and if you don’t catch him, some one else will.”
“It’s not our business to catch runaway slaves,” Dan answered unwisely.
“Whew! my young cock sparrow, to whom do you belong?” asked the man, squirting a stream of tobacco juice out of his mouth, which Dan narrowly escaped.
“We belong to our father,” answered Dan, “and to no one else.”
“And who is your father, master cock-a-hoop?” asked the man.
“Call me by my proper name and I’ll answer a civil question.”
“You’ll answer whether I put the question civilly or not,” cried the fellow, raising his whip and spurring his horse on towards Dan, on which I brought my rifle to bear on the man, exclaiming—
“If you touch my brother, I’ll shoot you, as sure as you’re a living man.”
On this he pulled in his rein, while his companion, bursting into a loud laugh, exclaimed—
“These young cocks crow loudly! I say, youngsters, who is your father? he must be a smart fellow to own such a pair of bantlings.”
“Our father is Captain Loraine who lives at Uphill, and he’s not the person to stand nonsense from you or any other man like you!” exclaimed Dan, whose Irish temper had risen almost to boiling pitch.
The strangers, seeing that they could not get much change out of us, rode on; the last man who had spoken bantering his companion on their defeat. I saw the other turn his head several times as though not quite sure that we should not fire after him.
“I am glad they didn’t come upon our camp this morning, although as they have no blood-hounds with them, we might have managed to conceal the negro without having had resort to force,” I remarked.
“But we should have had to tell lies if they had put questions to us, or have given him up or fought for him,” observed Dan.
“Still better reason why we should be thankful that they did not find us,” I answered.
We were so excited by what had occurred that we slackened our speed for a considerable way. We were still several miles from home when night overtook us; we had therefore again to camp out. We did not mind this, but we were anxious to get to the farm, to send assistance to our tutor and the poor black. According to our usual plan, we built a shanty, lighted a fire, and one of us sat up to keep the latter blazing. We heard strange sounds during the night, which kept us wakeful, and during my watch I caught sight of a bear, though the fire made him keep at a respectful distance. After surveying us for a few minutes, and not discovering any tempting odour, he slunk away, convinced that he would gain nothing by paying us a visit. When I roused up Dan, I told him to keep a look-out, lest bruin should come back, and lay down to snatch a short sleep, expecting to be roused up again before long. Dan, however, saw nothing during his watch to induce him to call me, so I had my sleep out. I was awakened by feeling him shaking my shoulder.
“It is near morning, Mike, I think,” he said; “I suspect that I must have nodded, for the fire is lower than it should be, but I have thrown on some sticks and it will soon be blazing up again.”
I sprang to my feet just in time to see a big shaggy beast emerging from the surrounding darkness. I gave a poke to the fire with my foot, it made some dry leaves burst into a flame, and then Dan and I both shouted at the top of our voices. The bear, who had again scented us out, might in another instant have caught Dan or me in his unfriendly embrace; but he stopped short, and then, turning round, retreated much faster than he had come. We did not fire, as we should probably only have wounded him and have excited him to rage.
Soon after this daylight broke. Having eaten the remainder of our provisions, we started off, hoping to reach home in three or four hours. We met with no other adventures by the way. The first person we saw on approaching our home was our father. We told him of our discovery of the apparently dying black, and that the dominie had remained behind to take care of the poor fellow.
“Mr Tidey has done as I would have had him, and acted the part of the good Samaritan. We’ll send the waggon off at once, to bring him and the negro in,” said my father.
Though I wanted to go too, our father declared that we looked so much knocked up from our long tramp and sleepless nights, that we must turn in and get some rest, and he said that he would despatch Peter, who knew the country better than we did, for the purpose.
Chapter Three.Arrival of the waggon—Why Dio ran away—How to act for the best—Abolition of slavery—What Biddy O’Toole meant to do—Kathleen and Dio—Biddy’s interview with the strangers—Dio’s pursuers—A fortunate arrival—Teaching the black to read—Good words—An interrupted lesson—The alarm—Man-hunters—Every man’s house his castle—Watching the strangers—An agreeable surprise—Mr McDermont—My mother’s apprehensions of danger—Our garrison increased.The first thing I did the next morning on getting up was to hurry out to ascertain if Mr Tidey and the negro had arrived, and was much disappointed to find that the waggon had not come back. Breakfast was over, and still it did not appear. My mother suggested that possibly the black was too weak to be removed. When I told my father of the two men we had fallen in with, in search of a runaway slave, he looked grave, remarking—“Possibly the fellows on their return may have fallen in with the waggon, and if so, they have carried off it and its occupants.”“I don’t think Mr Tidey would allow himself to be captured by only two men, or would surrender the black of whom he had taken charge,” I remarked.“He is not likely to submit himself to be made prisoner, I grant, unless he should have been wounded, but possibly he may not have felt himself called on to fight for a stranger, should the men in search of the slave be able to prove that he belongs to them or their employer,” answered my father. “However, I’ll set out to try to ascertain what has happened; saddle Swiftsure, Mike, while I get ready.”As I was on my way to the field in which our horses grazed, I heard Dan shout out—“Here comes the waggon, no necessity to get the horses.”On running back to the hill on which Dan was standing, I saw the waggon coming along, driven at a quick rate by Peter, while Mr Tidey was seated with his rifle between his knees, close behind him. I could not discover a third person, and I began to fear that the negro had died or been captured by his pursuers. This was a great disappointment, and I pictured to myself the misery of the poor fellow, should he have been dragged back into slavery.While returning by a path running alongside the hill, we lost sight of the waggon. On our arrival at the house, however, it had just reached the foot of the hill. We here found our father, mother, and Kathleen, standing at the doorway to welcome Mr Tidey, and to hear what had happened.At that moment a person rose from the bottom of the waggon, and, leaping to the ground, came running towards us. It was the black we had discovered. For an instant he stopped and gazed in my father’s face, then darting forward, he seized his hand and pressed it to his lips, exclaiming—“Oh, massa! dis niggar Dio know you; nebber forget you, massa; you remember de poor slave niggar who pulled de little boy out of de water?”“Remember you, my good fellow!” exclaimed my father, wringing his hand. “I have never forgotten you; you saved my boy’s life, and probably my wife’s too. There they both stand, though you don’t perhaps remember them.”Dio gazed at my mother, then at Dan and me.“De lady, yes! remember her,” and he made an obeisance to my mother. “But de little boy him not know which,” and he looked first at me then at Dan.“That’s the one,” said my father, pointing to me, “he has grown considerably since then, but he has not forgotten you.”“No indeed I have not,” I said, “and now I know who you are, I’m doubly thankful that we fell in with you.”“Ah, massa, dis niggar gone coon if you hadn’t found him,” answered Dio.“I’m very glad that they did find you, Dio; but how did you happen to be in such a condition?” asked my father.The negro fixed his eyes on my father’s countenance—“Massa, me tell you de tru’s. Dat cruel man, Bracher, him make de poor niggar’s back sore wid de lash, and den, when he find I lub one darkey girl, him beat her too and den sell her for fifty dollars, ’cos she almost dead. It almost break her heart, and her jump into de riber and drown herself. Den Dio tink if him stay him shoot Masser Bracher, so him run ’way and say him find de good cap’n, de only white man who eber say one kind word to poor Dio. Him wander in de wood, and at last, when he hab noting to eat, him sink down and tink him die. Den come de tall doctor and de young gentleman, dey put new life into dis niggar. Ah! massa, let Dio stay here, him ready to be always your slave, an’ nebber, nebber want run ’way.”“Though I cannot let you be my slave, I will gladly protect you and allow you to remain here until you have sufficiently recovered to make your way northward into Canada, where alone you can be safe,” said my father.“Dis niggar wish always to be de cap’n’s slave, no want to go to Canada,” answered Dio.“But, my poor fellow, if you remain here, you will be recaptured to a certainty, as your former master would find you out before long, and would place men on the watch to seize you out of doors, even though I might protect you in the house.”Still Dio entreated that even when he had recovered his strength he should not be sent away; but my father was firm in declining to make any promise both on his own account and for the sake of the black himself. It was in fact an illegal act to assist a slave in escaping, and much more to harbour one, and my father knew full well that possibly a party of Kentuckian slaveholders would come across and capture Dio. The black, although much recovered, was still somewhat weak. My father seeing this, and considering that it would be imprudent to allow him to sleep in the huts with the other negroes, ordered a small inner room to be prepared for him where he could remain in tolerable security even should any of those in search of him come our way. Peter was charged to be cautious not to mention that he had brought Dio to the house, while fortunately none of the other farm hands, (as far as we knew), had seen him arrive. Mr Tidey was fully alive to the importance of keeping the matter secret, and was as anxious as any of us to prevent the fugitive being retaken. The negro himself seemed perfectly satisfied that he was safe from capture now that he was with us.My father’s intention was, as soon as he had recovered, to supply him with a suit of clothes and some money, and to carry him off during the night northward. He was then to make his way through Indiana to Ohio, whence he could cross Lake Erie into Canada. My father was acquainted with a quaker family residing not much more than a hundred miles from us in the former state on the Wabash, and they were sure to be ready to assist him on his journey by forwarding him on to other friends who held their principles. At that time what was called “the underground railway” was not regularly established, but there were a large number of persons in the northern states, including all the members of the Society of Friends, who objected to slavery as much as my father did, and were always ready to assist fugitives running away from their cruel taskmasters. The movement in England in favour of the abolition of the slave-trade had been commenced by Wilberforce in 1787. From that time the British emancipists gained strength, and in 1792 resolutions for the abolition of the slave-trade were carried in the House of Commons. The following year, however, the House did not confirm its former vote, and though Wilberforce annually brought forward a motion, for seven years it was regularly lost until in 1799 a bill was carried limiting the traffic to a certain extent of coast. It was not, however, until 1807 that a bill for the total abolition of the British slave-trade received the royal assent. At first a penalty in money was alone inflicted on British subjects captured on board slave-ships, but in 1811 an act carried by Lord Brougham made slave-dealing felony. This being found an inadequate check, in 1824 the slave-trade was declared to be piracy and the punishment death. This was enforced until 1837, when the punishment for trading in slaves was changed to transportation for life. Other nations imitated England in prohibiting their subjects from trafficking in slaves; the United States of North America and Brazil making the traffic piracy, and punishable with death. All, with one exception, the United States, agreed to permit their ships to be searched at sea by the vessels of other nations. Unhappily, however, the profits on the trade were so enormous, that the traffic in slaves continued to be carried on from the coast of Africa to the Brazils, Cuba, and the more southern of the United States in spite of the activity of the British cruisers. Of course it will be understood that there is a wide distinction between the abolition of the slave-trade, and the abolition of slavery. Great Britain abolished slavery in her colonies in 1833, at the same time slavery existed, with all its abominations, in the more southern of the United States, as well as in the Brazils and Cuba, and on the other side of the continent. At the time of which I am speaking negroes were bought and sold and driven from one state to another. Parents were separated from their children, husbands from their wives, and if any one was daring enough to speak a word in favour of the much-suffering race, he ran the risk of having his house fired, and his plantations devastated, or of being put to death, as John Brown was in subsequent years.My father was well aware of the danger he ran in harbouring Dio. Under ordinary circumstances he would have hazarded much to save a slave from being recaptured, but he felt himself doubly bound to preserve our negro guest, and thus repay in the most effectual manner, the debt of gratitude he owed to him for saving my mother’s life and mine.The fact of his being in the house was kept a profound secret from all the outdoor servants, and my father knew that he could trust Peter and Black Rose, who were the only persons in the family, besides ourselves, including Mr Tidey and our Irish servant Biddy O’Toole. The latter was cautioned not to speak about a negro being in the house, should any strangers come to look for him.“Arrah! thim spalpeens w’d be mighty claver to get onything out of Biddy O’Toole,” she answered, with a curl of her lips and cock of her nose, while her eyes twinkled; “sure if they force themselves into the house while the master is away, I’ll bid them dare to disturb my old mither, whose troubled with a fever. If they come near the room, I’ll give them a taste of the broomstick.”A couple of days had passed away, and we began to hope that Dio’s pursuers had given up the search, and would not suspect where he was concealed. He was rapidly recovering under the kind treatment he received, for he had never before in his life been so well tended. Either Dan, Kathleen, or I took him in his food, and Peter slept in the same room and looked after him at night, but of course in the day-time had to attend to his usual duties. Kathleen became Dio’s special favourite. I am sure from the way he spoke of her, he would have died to do her a service.“She one angel, Massa Mike. If such as she lib in heaven, it mus’ be one beautiful place,” he remarked to me one day.Kathleen would sit patiently by his bedside, and sing to him with her sweet child-voice, and then read a little or tell him a story, handing him some cooling drink when he was thirsty.I had one day, while chopping wood, severely sprained my right wrist. My mother had bound it up and put my arm a sling, so that I could not use it, and I therefore remained at home while my father and Dan were out. The only persons in the house besides my mother, Kathleen, and myself, being Biddy and Dio. Rose had gone to assist the wife of a settler at some distance whose child was ill. I had been kept awake by the pain my wrist caused me during the night, and while attempting to read had fallen asleep, when I was aroused by the sound of the rough voices of two men at the front door demanding admittance, and abusing Biddy in no measured terms for refusing to let them in.“It’d be mighty curious, now, if I’d be afther lettin’ strangers into the house while the cap’n is away,” answered Biddy, who had evidently seen them coming, and had confronted them on the threshold; “in here you don’t put your feet ’till the masther comes home to give ye lave, an’ unless yez keep more civil tongues in your head that’ll not be likely.”“Are you the only person in the house?” asked one of the men.“An’ what if I am the only person? I am as good as a dozen such spalpeens as you!” cried Biddy in high tones.“You’ve got as good as a dozen tongues in your head, you saucy jade,” answered one of the men, with a laugh.“Saucy or not saucy, you don’t come in here. I’m left in charge, with the mistress busy in one room an’ my ould mither, who came all the way out from Ireland when I was a slip of a girl, sick in bed in another, so I’ll ax you not to spake so loudly, or you’ll be afther disturbing them. Now just sit down on the bank outside ’till the cap’n comes, or mount your horses and ride away about your business.”“Come, come, Mistress Sharptongue, whether the cap’n shows himself or not, we intend to look round the house inside and out. We are hunting for a runaway nigger, and we understand that Captain Loraine has a black boy, and if he is not the one we are looking for, he’s pretty sure to know where the other is. These free niggers ought to be hung up on the nearest trees wherever they are to be found; they are a pest to the country!”“Sure is it Pater ye mane!” exclaimed Biddy in an indignant tone; “nigger though he may be, he is more honest than many a white man.”“Keep a civil tongue in your head, Misess Impudence or it may be the worse for you,” said one of the men.Biddy gave a scornful laugh.“I’ll be after t’aching you to keep a civil tongue in your head; just do as I tell you, or—”I could suppose Biddy flourishing her broomstick. The men laughed in return, and then, hearing a scuffle, fearing that she might be ill-treated, I thought it time to make my appearance with my gun in my left hand, though it would have cost me much had it been necessary to pull the trigger. Biddy was standing at bay, defending herself bravely against the two men, who were endeavouring to force their way into the hall, where the scene I am describing took place.Whack, whack! down came Biddy’s stick on their arms, which they held up to defend their heads, when one of the fellows, who had received a harder blow than he liked, seized the stick with one hand, while with the other he drew his bowie-knife and pointed it at the girl, as if about to strike.“Arrah! now, ye coward, would ye be afther usin’ your knife on a woman?” shrieked Biddy.Fearing that the man would not hesitate to commit some act of violence, I stepped forward, and, showing my gun, shouted, “Back, you villains, whoever you are, or take the consequences. I have overheard what you have said; the girl is doing her duty, and until my father comes back—and I expect him every minute—into this house you do not enter.”The men, who had hitherto not seen me, observing my gun pointed at their heads, stepped back a pace or two; when Biddy, taking advantage of their eyes being withdrawn from her, struck the bowie-knife out of the hand of the man who had attacked her, crying out—“Fire, Mr Mike, fire; an’ we shall, gain the day!”The two men, who evidently had no wish to risk their lives in the task they had undertaken, sprang back together through the doorway to avoid the expected shot, when Biddy, darting after them, slammed the door in their faces, instantly slipping the bolt, so that they could not again force it open, though they made the attempt. As she did so she uttered a shout of triumph.“Arrah! the spalpeens will not be again trying to walk into the houses of dacent people with a cock an’ bull story about hunting for a runaway slave. Just let them have a taste of your rifle, and they’ll not forget the lesson we ye given them.”This she said at the top of her voice, knowing that the men outside would hear her. Whether or not they would have made another attempt to get in I cannot say, for at that moment, looking out from the window of the room at which I had been seated, I caught sight of my father, Mr Tidey, and Dan, with guns in hand, approaching the house.I immediately cried out to them that some men had been endeavouring to force their way into the house. The brave Biddy’s assailants hearing what I said, and expecting probably to have some shot sent after them, took to their heels until they reached their horses, which they had left secured to some trees, when mounting, they galloped off as hard as they could go. Biddy, the excitement over, went into hysterics, laughing and crying and shouting out—“We’ve won the day! We did it well, didn’t we, Master Mike?”My father and Mr Tidey, on hearing the account I gave them, were of opinion that the men were satisfied that the black was not concealed in the house, but that Biddy had simply fought to prevent them from entering. Probably they admired her all the more for her determined conduct. Dan, keeping himself concealed, followed them for some distance, and when he came back reported that they had taken the road to Kentucky, so we hoped that we should be rid of them.Several days passed away and Dio had recovered his strength sufficiently to get up and move about the house, though my father would not allow him to go out of doors. His delight was to attend to Kathleen and do her bidding. She, finding her power, kept him in constant employment. Young as she was, she could read remarkably well, and her great desire was to teach him to read. He probably had never before seen a book, as any person attempting to teach the blacks in the slave-states would have been thrown into prison, and very possibly hung to the nearest tree. Except ledgers and account books, probably not a volume of any description was to be found in Mr Bracher’s establishment. For hours together Kathleen would occupy a high chair, with Dio seated on the ground by her side, while she taught him the alphabet or read to him some interesting tale out of one of her books. My mother felt it her duty to instruct him in the gospel, of which he was perfectly ignorant, and she took great pains to impart to him its elementary truths, which he willingly and joyfully took in.“Dis poor niggar nebber ’fore heard Jesus Christ,” he said to her one day in a low voice; “Him wond’ful good for die for black man like me who nebber do noting to please Him. Me try an’ lub Him an’ serve Him with all my heart to de end ob my days.”“Christ died for black men and white men alike; God wants all people of every colour, nation, and tongue to come to Him and to be saved,” answered my mother. “If Dio gives God his heart, God will protect him and guide him through life until He calls him to that happy heaven He has prepared for all those who love Him here on earth.”When Dio heard that the Bible contained God’s loving message to man, he became doubly anxious to learn to read it. It was wonderful the progress he made in a short time, showing that the minds of the negro race are as capable of imbibing knowledge as those of white men.There was still a considerable risk that Dio might be recognised by some of the friends of Mr Bracher who might pass that way, and my father had determined to start with him in a few days on his projected journey northwards.My father and I had just returned from a distant part of the estate, and were about to enter the house, when, looking along the road, I saw three horsemen, two of whom bore a striking resemblance to the men who had paid us a visit when in search of Dio.“They may be mere travellers, or may be coming without any thought of Dio, but it will be prudent, in case of accident, to be prepared for them,” observed my father; “we will go in and stow away the black.”We entered as we spoke. Kathleen had taken her usual place on a chair with a book in her hand while several others lay scattered before her. Dio was seated on the ground, his eyes level with the page from which she read, he endeavouring to repeat the words after her. Biddy was engaged at the other end of the room in making a cake, and did not observe us enter. My father, afraid of alarming the little girl, did not speak, but beckoned Dio who just then looked up, to come to him. Biddy, seeing that something was amiss, hurried out of the room after us.“Not a moment to lose,” he whispered, “run back to your room, jump into bed, and draw the clothes over your head; take care that nothing belonging to you is left in sight. Mike will carry away your shoes and anything else you have. Some suspicious persons are coming this way.”“I should not be surprised, Biddy, if they are your old friends,” I observed; “you will treat them with due hospitality if they enter the house.”“Sure the cap’n won’t be lettin’ thim in at all at all,” she said, when she observed the three men on horseback approaching, two of whom she recognised as her former opponents.“Biddy is right,” observed my father, “and our safest plan will be to keep them outside until we ascertain their business. Let your mother know, call Mr Tidey and Dan, and close the window-shutters as fast as you can.”The latter order Biddy set about zealously executing, aided by Dan and my mother, while my father and I, joined by Mr Tidey, stood at the front door to receive our unwelcome guests.“What brings you here?” asked my father; “I should have thought after the way you behaved at your last visit that you would have been ashamed to show your faces.”“That’s neither here nor there, captain,” answered one of the men; “we have notice that you are hiding a runaway slave, and we have come to demand him from you; if you don’t give him up, you will learn that we have the power to take him by force.”“No man shall enter my house unless I invite him,” said my father calmly, “as to taking any one out of my house by force, you can only do that when you have conquered me. Whether you can conquer me or not is to be seen.”The men were somewhat taken aback by this address, and began to ride up and down in front of the house, casting doubtful glances at him and Mr Tidey.At last they once more pulled up, and one of them exclaimed, “Come, captain, this won’t do! I ask you whether or not you have a negro boy anywhere about your premises? If you have, give him up without more words. He belongs to Silas Bracher, who is not the man to allow his property to be stolen from him.”“I have stolen no man’s property,” answered my father, “and as to allowing strangers to come into my house, under any pretext whatever, I don’t intend to do it, so you have my answer. I’ll give you corn for your horses and food for yourselves, but over this threshold you don’t step with my good will.”“Then you don’t deny having harboured the slave we are in search of?” exclaimed one of the men. “Come, give him up, I say, or it will be the worse for you!”“I don’t acknowledge having afforded shelter to a black, and I don’t deny having done so. I have a perfect right to receive any strangers into my house who come to me in distress, and if they trust to me I’ll defend them with my life,” said my father.“Your life’s not worth the snuff of a candle, then,” answered the leader of the party, one of Mr Bracher’s principal overseers.The men, retiring to a little distance, consulted together, but seeing the muzzles of our rifles protruding from the windows, evidently considered that it would not be prudent to attempt any act of violence. After some time the overseer again rode forward. He must have felt sure that my father would not commence hostilities, or he would have kept at a distance.“Captain, I give you warning that you are bringing down destruction on yourself and family,” he shouted; “you have either helped a runaway slave to escape, or you have still got him in hiding. It would never do for us Kentuckians to let such an act pass unpunished; we should have half the slaves in the state bolting for the borders, and claiming the protection of emancipists like yourself and others.” The speaker bestowed an epithet on my father which I need not repeat. “I ask you, once more, have you got the slave, and if you have, will you give him up?”“I again answer that if I had the slave I would not give him up,” replied my father in a firm tone; “if you or your master attempt to injure my family or my property, I shall defend myself as I have a right to do, and should any of you be killed, your blood will be upon your own heads.”“I call no man master, but if you mean Silas Bracher, he is not the person to change his intentions, so I shall give him your answer,” replied the overseer, who, without more ado, turned his horse’s head, and rejoined his companions, when the three rode away in the direction from whence they had come. Though pretty confident that the men had gone away, my father thought it prudent to keep a watch on their movements. Before they could have got to any great distance I hurried out to follow them. From a hill, a short distance to the south of the house a view could be obtained along the road they would probably take. A grove of trees, with some thick brushwood, enabled me to watch them without the risk of being discovered should they turn their heads.I soon made them out, and saw them riding on without stopping until out of sight. Convinced that they had really gone away, I was on the point of returning when I saw two of them, as I supposed, coming back, spurring their horses over the level road. It was a question whether I could reach the house before them. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me until I got to another point whence I could take a look at them without being seen. I then saw by their dress and the colour of their horses that they were not the men I fancied, but that one of them was Uncle Denis, while the other was a stranger. I therefore ran down the hill to meet them.“What has happened up at the farm, Mike?” asked my uncle, after we had exchanged greetings; “we met just now three of Bracher’s men, who were swearing away at your father and all of you in a fashion which made me fear that they had either done some mischief, or intended doing it. I don’t think they knew that we were coming here, or they would have picked a quarrel with us, for which they seemed very much disposed.”I relieved my uncle’s mind by telling him that the men had only used threatening language, but I thought it prudent not to say that the fugitive slave was actually in the house, not knowing the character of the stranger who was with him. My uncle now introduced him to me as Mr McDermont, a countryman, who said he had come over to settle in the States, and who, not yet having any experience as a backwoodsman, had determined on purchasing an improved farm. “I offered him mine, but he does not wish to employ slave labour, and would prefer obtaining one in a free state. I therefore brought him here, feeling sure that your father would gladly assist him in finding the style of location he desires.”Uncle Denis and his companion were, of course, heartily welcomed at Uphill.“I am so thankful that you have come, Denis,” said my mother, who had been much alarmed at the late occurrence, “do, pray, remain and assist my husband in defending our property, for I dread lest those men should carry their threats into execution!”Uncle Denis did his best to reassure her, saying that he did not think Mr Bracher would venture on any act of violence, but promising to stay some time at Uphill, until Mr McDermont had settled in the neighbourhood.
The first thing I did the next morning on getting up was to hurry out to ascertain if Mr Tidey and the negro had arrived, and was much disappointed to find that the waggon had not come back. Breakfast was over, and still it did not appear. My mother suggested that possibly the black was too weak to be removed. When I told my father of the two men we had fallen in with, in search of a runaway slave, he looked grave, remarking—
“Possibly the fellows on their return may have fallen in with the waggon, and if so, they have carried off it and its occupants.”
“I don’t think Mr Tidey would allow himself to be captured by only two men, or would surrender the black of whom he had taken charge,” I remarked.
“He is not likely to submit himself to be made prisoner, I grant, unless he should have been wounded, but possibly he may not have felt himself called on to fight for a stranger, should the men in search of the slave be able to prove that he belongs to them or their employer,” answered my father. “However, I’ll set out to try to ascertain what has happened; saddle Swiftsure, Mike, while I get ready.”
As I was on my way to the field in which our horses grazed, I heard Dan shout out—
“Here comes the waggon, no necessity to get the horses.”
On running back to the hill on which Dan was standing, I saw the waggon coming along, driven at a quick rate by Peter, while Mr Tidey was seated with his rifle between his knees, close behind him. I could not discover a third person, and I began to fear that the negro had died or been captured by his pursuers. This was a great disappointment, and I pictured to myself the misery of the poor fellow, should he have been dragged back into slavery.
While returning by a path running alongside the hill, we lost sight of the waggon. On our arrival at the house, however, it had just reached the foot of the hill. We here found our father, mother, and Kathleen, standing at the doorway to welcome Mr Tidey, and to hear what had happened.
At that moment a person rose from the bottom of the waggon, and, leaping to the ground, came running towards us. It was the black we had discovered. For an instant he stopped and gazed in my father’s face, then darting forward, he seized his hand and pressed it to his lips, exclaiming—
“Oh, massa! dis niggar Dio know you; nebber forget you, massa; you remember de poor slave niggar who pulled de little boy out of de water?”
“Remember you, my good fellow!” exclaimed my father, wringing his hand. “I have never forgotten you; you saved my boy’s life, and probably my wife’s too. There they both stand, though you don’t perhaps remember them.”
Dio gazed at my mother, then at Dan and me.
“De lady, yes! remember her,” and he made an obeisance to my mother. “But de little boy him not know which,” and he looked first at me then at Dan.
“That’s the one,” said my father, pointing to me, “he has grown considerably since then, but he has not forgotten you.”
“No indeed I have not,” I said, “and now I know who you are, I’m doubly thankful that we fell in with you.”
“Ah, massa, dis niggar gone coon if you hadn’t found him,” answered Dio.
“I’m very glad that they did find you, Dio; but how did you happen to be in such a condition?” asked my father.
The negro fixed his eyes on my father’s countenance—
“Massa, me tell you de tru’s. Dat cruel man, Bracher, him make de poor niggar’s back sore wid de lash, and den, when he find I lub one darkey girl, him beat her too and den sell her for fifty dollars, ’cos she almost dead. It almost break her heart, and her jump into de riber and drown herself. Den Dio tink if him stay him shoot Masser Bracher, so him run ’way and say him find de good cap’n, de only white man who eber say one kind word to poor Dio. Him wander in de wood, and at last, when he hab noting to eat, him sink down and tink him die. Den come de tall doctor and de young gentleman, dey put new life into dis niggar. Ah! massa, let Dio stay here, him ready to be always your slave, an’ nebber, nebber want run ’way.”
“Though I cannot let you be my slave, I will gladly protect you and allow you to remain here until you have sufficiently recovered to make your way northward into Canada, where alone you can be safe,” said my father.
“Dis niggar wish always to be de cap’n’s slave, no want to go to Canada,” answered Dio.
“But, my poor fellow, if you remain here, you will be recaptured to a certainty, as your former master would find you out before long, and would place men on the watch to seize you out of doors, even though I might protect you in the house.”
Still Dio entreated that even when he had recovered his strength he should not be sent away; but my father was firm in declining to make any promise both on his own account and for the sake of the black himself. It was in fact an illegal act to assist a slave in escaping, and much more to harbour one, and my father knew full well that possibly a party of Kentuckian slaveholders would come across and capture Dio. The black, although much recovered, was still somewhat weak. My father seeing this, and considering that it would be imprudent to allow him to sleep in the huts with the other negroes, ordered a small inner room to be prepared for him where he could remain in tolerable security even should any of those in search of him come our way. Peter was charged to be cautious not to mention that he had brought Dio to the house, while fortunately none of the other farm hands, (as far as we knew), had seen him arrive. Mr Tidey was fully alive to the importance of keeping the matter secret, and was as anxious as any of us to prevent the fugitive being retaken. The negro himself seemed perfectly satisfied that he was safe from capture now that he was with us.
My father’s intention was, as soon as he had recovered, to supply him with a suit of clothes and some money, and to carry him off during the night northward. He was then to make his way through Indiana to Ohio, whence he could cross Lake Erie into Canada. My father was acquainted with a quaker family residing not much more than a hundred miles from us in the former state on the Wabash, and they were sure to be ready to assist him on his journey by forwarding him on to other friends who held their principles. At that time what was called “the underground railway” was not regularly established, but there were a large number of persons in the northern states, including all the members of the Society of Friends, who objected to slavery as much as my father did, and were always ready to assist fugitives running away from their cruel taskmasters. The movement in England in favour of the abolition of the slave-trade had been commenced by Wilberforce in 1787. From that time the British emancipists gained strength, and in 1792 resolutions for the abolition of the slave-trade were carried in the House of Commons. The following year, however, the House did not confirm its former vote, and though Wilberforce annually brought forward a motion, for seven years it was regularly lost until in 1799 a bill was carried limiting the traffic to a certain extent of coast. It was not, however, until 1807 that a bill for the total abolition of the British slave-trade received the royal assent. At first a penalty in money was alone inflicted on British subjects captured on board slave-ships, but in 1811 an act carried by Lord Brougham made slave-dealing felony. This being found an inadequate check, in 1824 the slave-trade was declared to be piracy and the punishment death. This was enforced until 1837, when the punishment for trading in slaves was changed to transportation for life. Other nations imitated England in prohibiting their subjects from trafficking in slaves; the United States of North America and Brazil making the traffic piracy, and punishable with death. All, with one exception, the United States, agreed to permit their ships to be searched at sea by the vessels of other nations. Unhappily, however, the profits on the trade were so enormous, that the traffic in slaves continued to be carried on from the coast of Africa to the Brazils, Cuba, and the more southern of the United States in spite of the activity of the British cruisers. Of course it will be understood that there is a wide distinction between the abolition of the slave-trade, and the abolition of slavery. Great Britain abolished slavery in her colonies in 1833, at the same time slavery existed, with all its abominations, in the more southern of the United States, as well as in the Brazils and Cuba, and on the other side of the continent. At the time of which I am speaking negroes were bought and sold and driven from one state to another. Parents were separated from their children, husbands from their wives, and if any one was daring enough to speak a word in favour of the much-suffering race, he ran the risk of having his house fired, and his plantations devastated, or of being put to death, as John Brown was in subsequent years.
My father was well aware of the danger he ran in harbouring Dio. Under ordinary circumstances he would have hazarded much to save a slave from being recaptured, but he felt himself doubly bound to preserve our negro guest, and thus repay in the most effectual manner, the debt of gratitude he owed to him for saving my mother’s life and mine.
The fact of his being in the house was kept a profound secret from all the outdoor servants, and my father knew that he could trust Peter and Black Rose, who were the only persons in the family, besides ourselves, including Mr Tidey and our Irish servant Biddy O’Toole. The latter was cautioned not to speak about a negro being in the house, should any strangers come to look for him.
“Arrah! thim spalpeens w’d be mighty claver to get onything out of Biddy O’Toole,” she answered, with a curl of her lips and cock of her nose, while her eyes twinkled; “sure if they force themselves into the house while the master is away, I’ll bid them dare to disturb my old mither, whose troubled with a fever. If they come near the room, I’ll give them a taste of the broomstick.”
A couple of days had passed away, and we began to hope that Dio’s pursuers had given up the search, and would not suspect where he was concealed. He was rapidly recovering under the kind treatment he received, for he had never before in his life been so well tended. Either Dan, Kathleen, or I took him in his food, and Peter slept in the same room and looked after him at night, but of course in the day-time had to attend to his usual duties. Kathleen became Dio’s special favourite. I am sure from the way he spoke of her, he would have died to do her a service.
“She one angel, Massa Mike. If such as she lib in heaven, it mus’ be one beautiful place,” he remarked to me one day.
Kathleen would sit patiently by his bedside, and sing to him with her sweet child-voice, and then read a little or tell him a story, handing him some cooling drink when he was thirsty.
I had one day, while chopping wood, severely sprained my right wrist. My mother had bound it up and put my arm a sling, so that I could not use it, and I therefore remained at home while my father and Dan were out. The only persons in the house besides my mother, Kathleen, and myself, being Biddy and Dio. Rose had gone to assist the wife of a settler at some distance whose child was ill. I had been kept awake by the pain my wrist caused me during the night, and while attempting to read had fallen asleep, when I was aroused by the sound of the rough voices of two men at the front door demanding admittance, and abusing Biddy in no measured terms for refusing to let them in.
“It’d be mighty curious, now, if I’d be afther lettin’ strangers into the house while the cap’n is away,” answered Biddy, who had evidently seen them coming, and had confronted them on the threshold; “in here you don’t put your feet ’till the masther comes home to give ye lave, an’ unless yez keep more civil tongues in your head that’ll not be likely.”
“Are you the only person in the house?” asked one of the men.
“An’ what if I am the only person? I am as good as a dozen such spalpeens as you!” cried Biddy in high tones.
“You’ve got as good as a dozen tongues in your head, you saucy jade,” answered one of the men, with a laugh.
“Saucy or not saucy, you don’t come in here. I’m left in charge, with the mistress busy in one room an’ my ould mither, who came all the way out from Ireland when I was a slip of a girl, sick in bed in another, so I’ll ax you not to spake so loudly, or you’ll be afther disturbing them. Now just sit down on the bank outside ’till the cap’n comes, or mount your horses and ride away about your business.”
“Come, come, Mistress Sharptongue, whether the cap’n shows himself or not, we intend to look round the house inside and out. We are hunting for a runaway nigger, and we understand that Captain Loraine has a black boy, and if he is not the one we are looking for, he’s pretty sure to know where the other is. These free niggers ought to be hung up on the nearest trees wherever they are to be found; they are a pest to the country!”
“Sure is it Pater ye mane!” exclaimed Biddy in an indignant tone; “nigger though he may be, he is more honest than many a white man.”
“Keep a civil tongue in your head, Misess Impudence or it may be the worse for you,” said one of the men.
Biddy gave a scornful laugh.
“I’ll be after t’aching you to keep a civil tongue in your head; just do as I tell you, or—”
I could suppose Biddy flourishing her broomstick. The men laughed in return, and then, hearing a scuffle, fearing that she might be ill-treated, I thought it time to make my appearance with my gun in my left hand, though it would have cost me much had it been necessary to pull the trigger. Biddy was standing at bay, defending herself bravely against the two men, who were endeavouring to force their way into the hall, where the scene I am describing took place.
Whack, whack! down came Biddy’s stick on their arms, which they held up to defend their heads, when one of the fellows, who had received a harder blow than he liked, seized the stick with one hand, while with the other he drew his bowie-knife and pointed it at the girl, as if about to strike.
“Arrah! now, ye coward, would ye be afther usin’ your knife on a woman?” shrieked Biddy.
Fearing that the man would not hesitate to commit some act of violence, I stepped forward, and, showing my gun, shouted, “Back, you villains, whoever you are, or take the consequences. I have overheard what you have said; the girl is doing her duty, and until my father comes back—and I expect him every minute—into this house you do not enter.”
The men, who had hitherto not seen me, observing my gun pointed at their heads, stepped back a pace or two; when Biddy, taking advantage of their eyes being withdrawn from her, struck the bowie-knife out of the hand of the man who had attacked her, crying out—
“Fire, Mr Mike, fire; an’ we shall, gain the day!”
The two men, who evidently had no wish to risk their lives in the task they had undertaken, sprang back together through the doorway to avoid the expected shot, when Biddy, darting after them, slammed the door in their faces, instantly slipping the bolt, so that they could not again force it open, though they made the attempt. As she did so she uttered a shout of triumph.
“Arrah! the spalpeens will not be again trying to walk into the houses of dacent people with a cock an’ bull story about hunting for a runaway slave. Just let them have a taste of your rifle, and they’ll not forget the lesson we ye given them.”
This she said at the top of her voice, knowing that the men outside would hear her. Whether or not they would have made another attempt to get in I cannot say, for at that moment, looking out from the window of the room at which I had been seated, I caught sight of my father, Mr Tidey, and Dan, with guns in hand, approaching the house.
I immediately cried out to them that some men had been endeavouring to force their way into the house. The brave Biddy’s assailants hearing what I said, and expecting probably to have some shot sent after them, took to their heels until they reached their horses, which they had left secured to some trees, when mounting, they galloped off as hard as they could go. Biddy, the excitement over, went into hysterics, laughing and crying and shouting out—
“We’ve won the day! We did it well, didn’t we, Master Mike?”
My father and Mr Tidey, on hearing the account I gave them, were of opinion that the men were satisfied that the black was not concealed in the house, but that Biddy had simply fought to prevent them from entering. Probably they admired her all the more for her determined conduct. Dan, keeping himself concealed, followed them for some distance, and when he came back reported that they had taken the road to Kentucky, so we hoped that we should be rid of them.
Several days passed away and Dio had recovered his strength sufficiently to get up and move about the house, though my father would not allow him to go out of doors. His delight was to attend to Kathleen and do her bidding. She, finding her power, kept him in constant employment. Young as she was, she could read remarkably well, and her great desire was to teach him to read. He probably had never before seen a book, as any person attempting to teach the blacks in the slave-states would have been thrown into prison, and very possibly hung to the nearest tree. Except ledgers and account books, probably not a volume of any description was to be found in Mr Bracher’s establishment. For hours together Kathleen would occupy a high chair, with Dio seated on the ground by her side, while she taught him the alphabet or read to him some interesting tale out of one of her books. My mother felt it her duty to instruct him in the gospel, of which he was perfectly ignorant, and she took great pains to impart to him its elementary truths, which he willingly and joyfully took in.
“Dis poor niggar nebber ’fore heard Jesus Christ,” he said to her one day in a low voice; “Him wond’ful good for die for black man like me who nebber do noting to please Him. Me try an’ lub Him an’ serve Him with all my heart to de end ob my days.”
“Christ died for black men and white men alike; God wants all people of every colour, nation, and tongue to come to Him and to be saved,” answered my mother. “If Dio gives God his heart, God will protect him and guide him through life until He calls him to that happy heaven He has prepared for all those who love Him here on earth.”
When Dio heard that the Bible contained God’s loving message to man, he became doubly anxious to learn to read it. It was wonderful the progress he made in a short time, showing that the minds of the negro race are as capable of imbibing knowledge as those of white men.
There was still a considerable risk that Dio might be recognised by some of the friends of Mr Bracher who might pass that way, and my father had determined to start with him in a few days on his projected journey northwards.
My father and I had just returned from a distant part of the estate, and were about to enter the house, when, looking along the road, I saw three horsemen, two of whom bore a striking resemblance to the men who had paid us a visit when in search of Dio.
“They may be mere travellers, or may be coming without any thought of Dio, but it will be prudent, in case of accident, to be prepared for them,” observed my father; “we will go in and stow away the black.”
We entered as we spoke. Kathleen had taken her usual place on a chair with a book in her hand while several others lay scattered before her. Dio was seated on the ground, his eyes level with the page from which she read, he endeavouring to repeat the words after her. Biddy was engaged at the other end of the room in making a cake, and did not observe us enter. My father, afraid of alarming the little girl, did not speak, but beckoned Dio who just then looked up, to come to him. Biddy, seeing that something was amiss, hurried out of the room after us.
“Not a moment to lose,” he whispered, “run back to your room, jump into bed, and draw the clothes over your head; take care that nothing belonging to you is left in sight. Mike will carry away your shoes and anything else you have. Some suspicious persons are coming this way.”
“I should not be surprised, Biddy, if they are your old friends,” I observed; “you will treat them with due hospitality if they enter the house.”
“Sure the cap’n won’t be lettin’ thim in at all at all,” she said, when she observed the three men on horseback approaching, two of whom she recognised as her former opponents.
“Biddy is right,” observed my father, “and our safest plan will be to keep them outside until we ascertain their business. Let your mother know, call Mr Tidey and Dan, and close the window-shutters as fast as you can.”
The latter order Biddy set about zealously executing, aided by Dan and my mother, while my father and I, joined by Mr Tidey, stood at the front door to receive our unwelcome guests.
“What brings you here?” asked my father; “I should have thought after the way you behaved at your last visit that you would have been ashamed to show your faces.”
“That’s neither here nor there, captain,” answered one of the men; “we have notice that you are hiding a runaway slave, and we have come to demand him from you; if you don’t give him up, you will learn that we have the power to take him by force.”
“No man shall enter my house unless I invite him,” said my father calmly, “as to taking any one out of my house by force, you can only do that when you have conquered me. Whether you can conquer me or not is to be seen.”
The men were somewhat taken aback by this address, and began to ride up and down in front of the house, casting doubtful glances at him and Mr Tidey.
At last they once more pulled up, and one of them exclaimed, “Come, captain, this won’t do! I ask you whether or not you have a negro boy anywhere about your premises? If you have, give him up without more words. He belongs to Silas Bracher, who is not the man to allow his property to be stolen from him.”
“I have stolen no man’s property,” answered my father, “and as to allowing strangers to come into my house, under any pretext whatever, I don’t intend to do it, so you have my answer. I’ll give you corn for your horses and food for yourselves, but over this threshold you don’t step with my good will.”
“Then you don’t deny having harboured the slave we are in search of?” exclaimed one of the men. “Come, give him up, I say, or it will be the worse for you!”
“I don’t acknowledge having afforded shelter to a black, and I don’t deny having done so. I have a perfect right to receive any strangers into my house who come to me in distress, and if they trust to me I’ll defend them with my life,” said my father.
“Your life’s not worth the snuff of a candle, then,” answered the leader of the party, one of Mr Bracher’s principal overseers.
The men, retiring to a little distance, consulted together, but seeing the muzzles of our rifles protruding from the windows, evidently considered that it would not be prudent to attempt any act of violence. After some time the overseer again rode forward. He must have felt sure that my father would not commence hostilities, or he would have kept at a distance.
“Captain, I give you warning that you are bringing down destruction on yourself and family,” he shouted; “you have either helped a runaway slave to escape, or you have still got him in hiding. It would never do for us Kentuckians to let such an act pass unpunished; we should have half the slaves in the state bolting for the borders, and claiming the protection of emancipists like yourself and others.” The speaker bestowed an epithet on my father which I need not repeat. “I ask you, once more, have you got the slave, and if you have, will you give him up?”
“I again answer that if I had the slave I would not give him up,” replied my father in a firm tone; “if you or your master attempt to injure my family or my property, I shall defend myself as I have a right to do, and should any of you be killed, your blood will be upon your own heads.”
“I call no man master, but if you mean Silas Bracher, he is not the person to change his intentions, so I shall give him your answer,” replied the overseer, who, without more ado, turned his horse’s head, and rejoined his companions, when the three rode away in the direction from whence they had come. Though pretty confident that the men had gone away, my father thought it prudent to keep a watch on their movements. Before they could have got to any great distance I hurried out to follow them. From a hill, a short distance to the south of the house a view could be obtained along the road they would probably take. A grove of trees, with some thick brushwood, enabled me to watch them without the risk of being discovered should they turn their heads.
I soon made them out, and saw them riding on without stopping until out of sight. Convinced that they had really gone away, I was on the point of returning when I saw two of them, as I supposed, coming back, spurring their horses over the level road. It was a question whether I could reach the house before them. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me until I got to another point whence I could take a look at them without being seen. I then saw by their dress and the colour of their horses that they were not the men I fancied, but that one of them was Uncle Denis, while the other was a stranger. I therefore ran down the hill to meet them.
“What has happened up at the farm, Mike?” asked my uncle, after we had exchanged greetings; “we met just now three of Bracher’s men, who were swearing away at your father and all of you in a fashion which made me fear that they had either done some mischief, or intended doing it. I don’t think they knew that we were coming here, or they would have picked a quarrel with us, for which they seemed very much disposed.”
I relieved my uncle’s mind by telling him that the men had only used threatening language, but I thought it prudent not to say that the fugitive slave was actually in the house, not knowing the character of the stranger who was with him. My uncle now introduced him to me as Mr McDermont, a countryman, who said he had come over to settle in the States, and who, not yet having any experience as a backwoodsman, had determined on purchasing an improved farm. “I offered him mine, but he does not wish to employ slave labour, and would prefer obtaining one in a free state. I therefore brought him here, feeling sure that your father would gladly assist him in finding the style of location he desires.”
Uncle Denis and his companion were, of course, heartily welcomed at Uphill.
“I am so thankful that you have come, Denis,” said my mother, who had been much alarmed at the late occurrence, “do, pray, remain and assist my husband in defending our property, for I dread lest those men should carry their threats into execution!”
Uncle Denis did his best to reassure her, saying that he did not think Mr Bracher would venture on any act of violence, but promising to stay some time at Uphill, until Mr McDermont had settled in the neighbourhood.