and he cannot read a word."
"I should have thought he would have been one of the first to learn that much at least."
"So should I. He is the best man of affairs among them all—has good judgment and sense, and is always trying to do something to get on. He says he is 'too busy to get larnin', an' leaves that and preachin' to Bre'er' 'Liab.'" "Do they keep up their former intimacy?"
"Keep it up? 'Liab lives in Nimbus' lot, has his meals from his table, and is toted about by Nimbus just the same as if they were still boys. Nimbus seems to think more of him than he would of a brother—than he does of his brothers, for he has two whom he seems to care nothing about. His wife and children are just as devoted to the cripple as Nimbus, and 'Liab, on his part, seems to think as much of them as if they were his own. They get along first-rate, and are prospering finely, but I am afraid they will have trouble yet."
"Why so?"
"Oh, well, I don't know; they are niggers, you see, and our people are not used to such things."
"I hope your apprehensions are groundless."
"Well, I hope so too."
The officer looked at his watch and remarked that he must return to his duty, and after thanking his companion for a pleasant hour, and being invited to call at Mulberry Hill whenever occasion might serve, the two men parted, each with pleasant impressions of the other.
CHAPTER X.
AN EXPRESS TRUST.
Fortunately for Nimbus, he had received scarcely anything of his pay while in the service, and none of the bounty-money due him, until some months after the surrender, when he was discharged at a post near his old home. On the next day it happened that there was a sale of some of the transportation at this post, and through the co-operation of one of his officers he was enabled to buy a good mule with saddle and bridle for a song, and by means of these reached home on the day after. He was so proud of his new acquisition that he could not be induced to remain a single day with his former comrades. He had hardly more than assured himself of the safety of his wife and children before he went to visit his old friend and playmate, Eliab Hill. He found that worthy in a state of great depression.
"You see," he explained to his friend, "Mister Le Moyne" (with a slight emphasis on the title) "bery kindly offered me de use ob dis cabin's long as I might want it, and has furnished me with nearly all I have had since the S'rrender. While my mother lived and he had her services and a well-stocked plantation and plenty ob hands, I didn't hab no fear o' being a burden to him. I knew he would get good pay fer my support, fer I did de shoemakin' fer his people, and made a good many clo'es fer dem too. Thanks to Miss Hester's care, I had learned to use my needle, as you know, an' could do common tailorin' as well as shoemakin'. I got very little fer my wuk but Confederate money and provisions, which my mother always insisted that Mr. Le Moyne should have the benefit on, as he had given me my freedom and was under bond for my support.
"Since de S'rrender, t'ough dere is plenty ob wuk nobody has any money. Mr. Le Moyne is just as bad off as anybody, an' has', to go in debt fer his supplies. His slaves was freed, his wife is dead, he has nobody to wait on Miss Hester, only as he hires a nuss; his little boy is to take keer on, an' he with only one arm an' jest a bare plantation with scarcely any stock left to him. It comes hard fer me to eat his bread and owe him so much when I can't do nothin' fer him in return. I know he don't mind it, an' b'lieve he would feel hurt if he knew how I feel about it; but I can't help it, Nimbus—I can't, no way."
"Oh, yer mustn't feel that 'ere way, Bre'er 'Liab," said his friend. "Co'se it's hard fer you jes now, an' may be a little rough on Marse Moyne. But yer mus' member dat atter a little our folks 'll hev money. White folks got ter have wuk done; nebber do it theirselves; you know dat; an' ef we does it now we's boun' ter hev pay fer it. An' when we gits money, you gits wuk. Jes' let Marse Moyne wait till de crap comes off, an' den yer'll make it all squar wid him. I tell yer what, 'Liab, it's gwine ter be great times fer us niggers, now we's free. Yer sees dat mule out dar?" he asked, pointing to a sleek bay animal which he had tied to the rack in front of the house when he rode up.
"Yes, o' course I do," said the other, with very little interest in his voice.
"Likely critter, ain't it?" asked Nimbus, with a peculiar tone.
"Certain. Whose is it?"
"Wal, now, dat's jes edzackly de question I wuz gwine ter ax of you. Whose yer spose 'tis?"
"I'm sure I don't know. One o' Mr. Ware's?"
"I should tink not, honey; not edzackly now. Dat ar mule b'longs ter me—Nimbus! D'yer h'yer dat, 'Liab?"
"No! Yer don't tell me? Bless de Lord, Nimbus, yer's a fortunit man. Yer fortin's made, Nimbus. All yer's got ter do is ter wuk fer a livin' de rest of this year, an' then put in a crap of terbacker next year, an' keep gwine on a wukkin' an' savin', an' yer fortin's made. Ther ain't no reason why yer shouldn't be rich afore yer's fifty. Bless the Lord, Nimbus, I'se that glad for you dat I can't find no words fer it."
The cripple stretched out both hands to his stalwart friend, and the tears which ran down his cheeks attested the sincerity of his words. Nimbus took his outstretched hands, held them in his own a moment, then went to the door, looked carefully about, came back again, and with some embarrassment said,
"An' dat ain't all, Bre'er 'Liab. Jes' you look dar."
As he spoke Nimbus took an envelope from the inside pocket of his soldier jacket and laid it on the bench where the other sat. 'Liab looked up in surprise, but in obedience to a gesture from Nimbus opened it and counted the contents.
"Mos' five hundred dollars!" he said at length, in amazement. "Dis yours too, Bre'er Nimbus?"
"Co'se it is. Didn't I tell yer dar wuz a good time comin'?"
"Bre'er Nimbus," said Eliab solemnly, "you gib me your word you git all dis money honestly?"
"Co'se I did. Yer don't s'pose Nimbus am a-gwine ter turn thief at dis day, does yer?"
"How you get it?" asked Eliab sternly.
"How I git it?" answered the other indignantly. "You see dem clo'es? Hain't I been a-sojerin' nigh onter two year now? Hain't I hed pay an' bounty, an' rations too? One time I wuz cut off from de regiment, an' 'ported missin' nigh bout fo' months afo' I managed ter git over ter Port R'yal an' 'port fer duty, an' dey gib me money fer rations all dat time. Tell yer, 'Liab, it all counts up. I'se spent a heap 'sides dat."
Still Eliab looked incredulous.
"You see dat _dis_charge?" said Nimbus, pulling the document from his pocket. "You jes look at what de paymaster writ on dat, ef yer don't b'lieve Nimbus hez hed any luck. 'Sides dat, I'se got de dockyments h'yer ter show jes whar an' how I got dat mule."
The care which had been exercised by his officer in providing Nimbus with the written evidence of his ownership of the mule was by no means needless. According to the common law, the possession of personal property is prima facie evidence of its ownership; but in those early days, before the nation undertook to spread the aegis of equality over him, such was not the rule in the case of the freedman. Those first legislatures, elected only by the high-minded land-owners of the South, who knew the African, his needs and wants, as no one else could know them, and who have always proclaimed themselves his truest friends, enacted with especial care that he should not "hold nor own nor have any rights of property in any horse, mule, hog, cow, steer, or other stock," unless the same was attested by a bill of sale or other instrument of writing executed by the former owner. It was well for Nimbus that he was armed with his "dockyments."
Eliab Hill took the papers handed him by Nimbus, and read, slowly and with evident difficulty; but as he mastered line after line the look of incredulity vanished, and a glow of solemn joy spread over his face. It was