Among the Pines Part 9

"$250 REWARD.

"Ran away from the subscriber, on Monday, November 12th, his mulatto man, SAM. Said boy is stout-built, five feet nine inches high, 31 years old, weighs 170 lbs., and walks very erect, and with a quick, rapid gait. The American flag is tattooed on his right arm above the elbow. There is a knife-cut over the bridge of his nose, a fresh bullet-wound in his left thigh, and his back bears marks of a recent whipping. He is supposed to have made his way back to Dinwiddie County, Va., where he was raised, or to be lurking in the swamps in this vicinity.

"The above reward will be paid for his confinement in any jail in North or South Carolina, or Virginia, or for his delivery to the subscriber on his plantation at ----.

"----, December 2, 1860."

The name signed to this hand-bill was that of the planter I was about to visit.

Scip having returned, and reported the stream fordable to the bridge, I said to him, pointing to the "notice:"

"Read that, Scip."

He read it, but made no remark.

"What does it mean--that fresh bullet wound, and the marks of a recent whipping?" I asked.

"It mean, ma.s.sa, dat de darky hab run away, and ben took; and dat when dey took him dey shot him, and flogged him arter dat. Now, he hab run away agin. De Cunnel's mighty hard on his n.i.g.g.as!"

"Is he? I can scarcely believe that."

"He am, ma.s.sa; but he arnt so much to blame, nuther; dey'm awful bad, most ob 'em--so dey say."

Our conversation was here interrupted by our reaching the bridge. After safely "walking the plank," and making our way to the opposite bank, I resumed it by asking:

"Why are the Colonel's negroes so particularly bad?"

"'Cause, you see, ma.s.sa, de turpentime business hab made great profits for sum yars now, and de Cunnel hab been gettin' rich bery fa.s.s. He put all his money, jes so fa.s.s as he make it, into darkies, so to make more; for he's got bery big plantation, and need nuffin' but darkies to work it to make money jess like a gold mine. He goes up to Virginny to buy n.i.g.g.as; and up dar _now_ dey don't sell none less dey'm bad uns, 'cep when sum ma.s.sa die or git pore. Virginny darkies dat c.u.m down har aint gin'rally ob much account. Dey'm either kinder good-for-nuffin, or dey'm ugly; and de Cunnel'd ruther hab de ugly dan de no-account n.i.g.g.as."

"How many negroes has he?"

"'Bout two hundred, men and wimmin, I b'lieve, ma.s.sa."

"It can't be pleasant for his family to remain in such an out-of-the-way place, with so bad a gang of negroes about them, and no white people near."

"No, ma.s.sa, not in dese times; but de missus and de young lady arnt dar now."

"Not there now? The Colonel said nothing to me about that. Are you sure?"

"Oh yas, ma.s.sa; I seed 'em gwo off on de boat to Charles'n most two weeks ago. Dey don't mean to c.u.m back till tings am more settled; dey'm 'fraid to stay dar."

"Would it be safe for the Colonel there, if a disturbance broke out among the slaves."

"'T wouldn't be safe den anywhar, sar; but de Cunnel am a bery brave man. He'm better dan twenty of _his_ n.i.g.g.as."

"Why better than twenty of _his_ n.i.g.g.e.rs?"

"'Cause dem ugly n.i.g.g.as am gin'rally cowards. De darky dat is quiet, 'spectful, and does his duty, am de brave sort; _dey'll_ fight, ma.s.sa, till dey'm cut down."

We had here reached a turn in the road, and pa.s.sing it, came suddenly upon a coach, attached to which were a pair of magnificent grays, driven by a darky in livery.

"Hallo, dar!" said Scip to the driver, as we came nearly abreast of the carriage. "Am you Cunnel J----'s man?"

"Yas, I is dat," replied the darky.

At this moment a woolly head, which I recognized at once as that of the Colonel's man "Jim," was thrust from the window of the vehicle.

"Hallo, Jim," I said. "How do you do? I'm glad to see you."

"Lor bress me, Ma.s.sa K----, am dat you?" exclaimed the astonished negro, hastily opening the door, and coming to me. "Whar _did_ you c.u.m from?

I'se mighty glad to see you;" at the same time giving my hand a hearty shaking. I must here say, in justice to the reputation of South Carolina, that no respectable Carolinian refuses to shake hands with a black man, unless--the black happens to be free.

"I thought I wouldn't wait for you," I replied. "But how did you expect to get on? the 'runs' have swollen into rivers."

"We got a 'flat' made for dis one--it's down by dis time--de oders we tought we'd get ober sumhow."

"Jim, this is Scip," I said, seeing the darkies took no notice of each other.

"How d'ye do, Scip_io?_" said Jim, extending his hand to him. A look of singular intelligence pa.s.sed over the faces of the two negroes as their hands met; it vanished in an instant, and was so slight that none but a close observer would have detected it, but some words that Scip had previously let drop had put me on the alert, and I felt sure it had a hidden significance.

"Wont you get into de carriage, ma.s.sa?" inquired Jim.

"No, thank you, Jim. I'll ride on with Scip. Our horse is jaded, and you had better go ahead."

Jim mounted the driver's seat, turned the carriage, and drove off at a brisk pace to announce our coming at the plantation, while Scip and I rode on at a slower gait.

"Scip, did you know Jim before?" I asked.

"Hab seed him afore, ma.s.sa, but neber know'd him."

"How is it that you have lived in Georgetown five years, and have not known him?"

"I cud hab know'd him, ma.s.sa, good many time, ef I'd liked, but darkies hab to be careful."

"Careful of what?"

"Careful ob who dey knows; good many bad n.i.g.g.as 'bout."

"Pshaw, Scip, you're 'coming de possum'; there isn't a better n.i.g.g.e.r than Jim in all South Carolina. I know him well."

"P'raps he am; reckon he _am_ a good 'nuff n.i.g.g.a."

"Good enough n.i.g.g.a, Scip! Why, I tell you he's a splendid fellow; just as true as steel. He's been North with the Colonel, often, and the Abolitionists have tried to get him away; he knew he could go, but wouldn't budge an inch."

"I knew he wouldn't," said the darky, a pleasurable gleam pa.s.sing through his eyes; "dat sort don't run; dey face de music!"

"Why don't they run? What do you mean by facing the music?"

"Nuffin' ma.s.sa--only dey'd rather stay har."