The Kidnapped And The Ransomed Part 20

Notwithstanding this threat, Lewis went to his cabin, and there day after day he sat brooding over his injuries.

"How long are you going to sit there, you d--d sulky n.i.g.g.e.r?" cried Burton at the cabin door.

"I's gwine stay yer till I gits well, and den I's gwine to de woods."

Lewis kept his word. A day or two after this, he rose in the morning at the sound of the horn, and went out. Soon after Burton appeared at the door. "Where's Lewis?" demanded he, of Lucy, his wife, who was preparing to go to her work.

"I don' know, sir, I reckon he's some're 'bout de yard."

The day wore on, but no Lewis appeared. "I tell you, my lady," said Burton to Lucy, "I'll fetch the truth out of you." So saying, he seized her, and tying her arms around a stump, whipped her cruelly. But thus he gained no knowledge of her husband for she still protested that she supposed he had only gone into the yard.

Week after week pa.s.sed on, and yet no tidings came of Lewis; but he was not alone, for soon a man named Frank, and "old man John," were driven by Burton's cruelty to join him in his "den."

Yet the cowhide of the overseer had no rest; for so dearly did he love its music, that a day seldom pa.s.sed on which he could find no occasion for its use.

Young Peter was one day suffering from a severe toothache, and he quit his work, and sought his mother's cabin. It was a busy time, for they were to kill hogs the next day.

He had been in the house but a short time, when Burton came to the door and bade him go and help to make the necessary preparations for the morrow. "I can't work, sir," said he, "my tooth aches too bad."

"Well," said the overseer, "come along to my house, d--n you, and I'll cure it, or knock it out--one."

"If that be the case, sir," said Peter, "I wont go; for I aint gwine have my teeth knocked out like I was a horse or a hog."

"So you tell me you wont, young man--v-e-r-y w-e-l-l."

The next morning Peter, having been kept awake nearly all night by his tooth, did not go out till sunrise, though he was called soon after midnight. Meantime, the master visited the scene of slaughter.

"Master Peter is laid up with the tooth-ache," said Burton to his employer, "and I told him yesterday if he would come to my house, I would give him something to ease it; but the young gentleman told me he would not."

Vina stood near, and as she had heard the conversation the day before, she determined, if possible, to s.h.i.+eld her son from the impending storm. She had always been a most useful servant; and since, the time when the overseer Simms had so nearly murdered her, the master had not suffered her to be beaten. So with a consciousness of her own high standing in his esteem, she boldly repeated, in his presence, the precise language, which the overseer had used to Peter.

"You told him," said she, "to come to your house, and you'd cure it or knock it out; and he said, if that was the case, he wasn't gwine come, kase he didn't want his teeth knocked out like he was a horse."

Burton gave her an angry scowl. "Was I talking to you?" said he.

"No, sir, but you's tryin' to git Peter whipped, just for nuthin?"

"Hush your mouth!" cried her master.

"I told the truth, sir," said she, nothing daunted, and looking him earnestly in the face.

After awhile, Peter came out. "What's that impudence you were giving to Mr. Burton last night, telling him you wouldn't?"said the master.

The young man repeated the conversation.

"Well," said Mr. McKiernan, turning to the over-seer, "you can tie him up to that apple tree."

Burton needed nothing further. He quickly tied Peter to the tree, and gave him a hundred lashes, after which he ordered him to go to work.

This scene was highly amusing to the master, who often told the story with great glee; swearing that the best cure he ever knew for a n.i.g.g.e.r's tooth-ache was to tie him up to a tree, and "give him the devil."

For three months no trace was found of the three runaways, though many days were spent in hunting them, and no means were left untried to induce their fellow-slaves to betray them to their foes.

Their wives, from the time of their flight, received weekly but half their usual allowance of meat, that they might have no surplus "to feed the rascals." "Go out and hunt them," said Burton, when they complained of the scanty fare, "and when you bring them in, your allowance shall be made up to you."

The master at last despaired of taking them by ordinary means, and he resolved to try a desperate measure; one that should frighten all the others who might thereafter be tempted to try the woods.

About half way to Courtland lived a negro-hunter, named Elliott, and Mr. McKiernan now sent for him to come and catch his runaways. Elliott promptly obeyed the summons; bringing with him his trained dogs--seven hounds and a bull-dog.

He arrived just before supper, and early the next morning the hunt was to commence. That night Frank came to the quarter. His friends informed him that the dogs had come, and bade him haste to flee beyond their reach. But he was very swift of foot, and he felt sure he could outrun them. He however, hastened, back to the "den" which the three occupied together, and told the news to his companions, Lewis, and "old man John."

Lewis lost no time in fleeing beyond their scent. The dawn of the next morning found him in the woods near La Grange, distant from their rendezvous about seven miles.

Early in the morning the party, composed of Mr. McKiernan, Elliott, and a slave named Vollen, started on the hunt. They were mounted on the swiftest horses the place could boast, and the dogs with their noses to the earth, silently followed them.

They pa.s.sed the gang of slaves just going out to work, and from many a heart the fervent prayer went up to Heaven that they might miss their prey.

Late in the afternoon the baying of the dogs was heard. "Thar,"

said Vina to the woman who was plowing next her, "I'll lay anything they's started one o' the poor fellers."

The horrid sounds came nearer--the hunters' yells mingled with the dogs' loud baying; and as all eyes were turned in the direction of the woods, a man bounded over the high fence, and ran with desperate speed into the midst of the excited slaves. The frightened mules set up their ears, and ran furiously through the field, dragging the plows behind them over the young corn.

"Hold on! Hold on!" cried the master, who rode close behind poor Frank; "don't let 'em run!"

But few tried to obey, and those few were dragged at full length along the ground, adding by their shouts and cries, to the confusion of the scene.

"Take off de dogs! call 'em off! dey's killin' me!" cried Frank.

"Let 'em go!" shouted his master;"who cares if they do kill him!

He's made me more expense and trouble than his neck's worth."

The bull-dog, with the, ferocity of his race, kept close to the poor fellow's legs, and tore great pieces of flesh out of them as he ran.

At last Frank seized a stick that lay across his path, and attempted to beat him off. Up rode Elliott. "You d--d rascal! how dare you strike my dog?" So saying he gave him several blows over the head and neck, that sent the blood gus.h.i.+ng out.

"Mercy! Mercy!" cried the slave, "you're killin' me!"

"I mean to kill you, you black cuss."

When they called off the dogs, and started for the house, poor Frank, faint with fatigue and loss of blood, could walk no further; so the master commanded one of the men to take his mule out of the plow and carry him to the house.

They lifted him, all covered with blood, upon the mule, and when they reached the quarter Mr. McKiernan delivered him to the overseer. "Here, Burton, is one of your runaways--Elliott says he'll bring in the other two to-morrow, if they're any where this side of h--ll."

Burton ordered the slaves to go on with him to the smoke-house, and put him in the stocks.

The next day the overseer went in to "take his satisfaction." He first fastened the hands of his victim in their mortise; and then, sitting down, whipped him till his demoniac rage was "satisfied."

For several days thereafter, Frank was left in the stocks. His wounds inflamed, his bruises festered, and at last he told the overseer, who daily paid him a visit, that if he did not have his legs dressed where the dogs had bitten him, he should die, "sho 'nough." Burton made no reply, but the next day he took him out of the stocks, and let him go.

For two months he remained in his cabin; and though his wife had dressed his wounds with the greatest care, five of them were still unhealed. Then the order came for him to go to work; and though he was still very weak, he dared not refuse obedience. "He had lost a heap o' time, but ma.s.s'r 'lowed his example would skeer the others, so't they'd keep out o' the woods."