raised the lifeless form to her breast and turned her eyes toward heaven, as if to catch one glimpse of its ascending spirit, and then she fell into the line with the three hundred other slaves that were slowly wending their way toward their cabins for an hour's rest and consume their scanty meals.
It was a complete funeral procession, silent and speechless; not a voice could be heard, not a word was spoken; there were no Negro melodies, no passing of jokes. The only voices heard were the sweet notes of the mocking birds echoing from the surrounding tree tops—for even the birds seemed to realize our sad situation and were chanting a funeral song while the spirit of the little one rose and was speeding its way to God, from whence it came. It was on the day of that terrible event and standing in the presence of that lifeless form that I swore, in silence, a righteous oath — — that I would have my liberty or die; and from that very hour I began to manufacture different plans by which to make my escape, but I was merely building castles in the air. To think of escape was merely to meditate on performing an impossibility. Little did I dream of what a tremendous task I had before me, ere I eluded the vigilance of my master's Negro drivers and human. blood-hounds. I had not calculated on what a vast tract of land there was for me to cross ere I was safely beyond the reach of Dick Fallon's grasp, and beyond the keen scent of old master's hounds. I had not calculated on the many adversities and calamities that beset the pathways of pedestrians in a free land; much less the dangers and accidents that are ever haunting an escaping slave. I did not know that since black slavery was inaugurated that not one slave in ten thousand had made their escape from Louisiana and successfully reached the land of free soil and free men, Canada, which forty years ago was the only safe place of shelter for a negro on the Western Hemisphere.
The only effectual means for a human being to foil blood hounds when being pursued by them, is to saturate your foot prints with water, thereby erasing the scent and makes it impossible for them to keep your trail. Water has the same effect on deadening the scent from foot prints on any kind of soil, as it does on erasing the smell from any kind of clothing. It is a false idea to believe that by rubbing pepper and other articles on the feet and keeping them in your stockings will make it impossible for the hounds to follow you. There is no possible way to thwart those well trained blood hounds, only by leaving water in each foot print. I have know refugees to bore small holes in the bottom of their boots or shoes and keep them well filled with water, and by so doing sprinkle their tracks and make it impossible for the hounds to follow the trail.
Escaping slaves always choose a rainy night. About three weeks after Fallon committed that horrible crime, my plans were complete by which to make my escape, and I determined to execute them at once. It was one of the darkest nights I ever beheld, and the rain was pouring down as though a river had burst its banks in the heavens and was determined to drag or wash the whole State of Louisiana into the Gulf of Mexico. Blinding flashes of lightning seemed to run along on the ground, and the ground was rolling from the effects of thunder shocks, like the water rolls on the ocean. It was a night like the beginning of Noah's deluge.
CHAPTER III
THE ESCAPE — PURSUED BY BLOOD HOUNDS — THE CAPTURE — THE PUNISHMENT
THIS was the night I selected to start on my journey to that free land of Canada, which I knew was somewhere under the North Star. About ten o'clock at night I selected the swiftest mule on the plantation and started for Lake Providence, which is about ninety miles north-east of Monroe, and situated on the Mississippi River.
My intentions were to ride that mule until nearly day light, and then turn him loose and let him go back to the plantation as he often did when taken from home and turned loose. And then my intentions were to secrete myself in the swamp during the day, and resume my journey at night.
The mule traveled like a deer for more than four hours, and it must have been very near three o'clock in the morning, (for the roosters were crowing) when the old mule changed his mind. All at once he stopped, and I kept straight on over his head for about ten feet, and landed on my stomach in six inches of mud and water.
When I regained my footing he was standing just where I had left him when I went over his head. I again climbed on to his back and told him to go ahead, but he never moved no more than if he had been a dead mule. I patted him on the neck awhile and then again urged him to go ahead, and he turned around and looked me in the face, as if to say:
"I know just what you are doing; you are running away," and all at once he turned around in a perfect circle for about five minutes and then started like the wind.
I have often believed that mule circled around in order to make me lose my bearing, for it had been running for some time before I was aware he was carrying me back over the same road which I had come; and I never saw any living animal run as that mule was running, and all my endeavors to check his speed were of no avail; so I leaped from his back and I have never spoken to a mule since, and I do not care to have anything to do with mules again.
Dear reader, you cannot even imagine what a predicament I was in. To return to my cabin before the blowing of the horn was impossible, for I was more than thirty miles away. It was Fallon's edict that every slave that failed to form in line ten minutes after the sounding of the horn, at four o'clock, should receive one hundred lashes.
My clothing was completely saturated with mud and water, which made me look more like a big mud turtle than a human being. I was in a land where every white man was a Negro catcher, and every black man was worth his weight in gold.
But something was to be done, and at once, for the rain had ceased to fall and the clouds were scattering in every direction; and by the morning star that was slowly moving up the horizon I knew day was breaking. I left the highway and waded through mud and swamp land until I reached the dense forest, and then continued my journey for a mile or two back in the forest and climbed a cypress tree. The fringe on a cypress tree is sufficient to make it impossible to discover a man except by close observation, after he has climbed twenty-five or thirty feet from the ground.
I was not afraid of being captured that day, unless by mere accident, for I was satisfied that the rain had not only made it impossible for the hounds to follow my trail, but it had also erased my foot prints on the main highway. I selected the forks of a tree and lashed myself to the limbs with cypress bark and was soon fast asleep. In my dreams I was again with my father and mother in my log cabin 'way up in old Virginia.
During the day I remained in my hiding place and I was greatly refreshed by my day's rest, and the dry atmosphere had completely dried my clothing, and it was an easy matter for me to rid my clothing of the greater part of the mud and dirt, by pounding and shaking them, and as soon as darkness began to settle over the forest I cautiously began to look around for a sweet potato patch, or some other means to satisfy my stomach. And after having filled up on googer nuts (or peanuts) and sweet potatoes, I re-filled my water bottle and started on my journey toward the town of Lake Providence, but my progress was very slow, as well as irksome, for I was compelled to keep clear of the highway, and traveled across fields and swamps that were filled wit insects and poisonous serpents. Compelled to travel under the cover of darkness, with no guide except the Mississippi River, and no light but the North Star. I did not dare to venture near a habitation of any kind, for fear of arousing all the blood hounds in the neighborhood, and I was also aware that Dick Fallon and his man eaters were at that very hour scouring the country for my capture. You who live in palaces and sleep in a feather bed, can never imagine the hardships of the man who is traveling through mud and swamps in the dead hours of night, with no shelter but the canopy of heaven, and was startled at the rustle of every leaf, and the chirping of every cricket seemed to cry out "Stop him, there he goes!" and imagine he could hear voices whispering in the still midnight air. I knew it was useless for me to think of venturing near the public road, before I reached Lake Providence, which was the safest place for me to cross the river, and get out of the State of Louisiana. It was a beautiful starlight night, not a cloud was visible, and I traveled as rapid as possible, until the morning star arose high in the heavens. Then I again retreated to the forest, and selected the forks of a tree for my hiding