The White Slave, or Memoirs of a Fugitive/Chapter 33
CHAPTER XXXIII.
We travelled slowly all that night, and soon after the morning dawn, we concealed ourselves again, and lay down to sleep. Thomas's wounds were much better, and seemed disposed to heal. The hurt in his side was far less dangerous than we had at first supposed, and as the pain had subsided, he was now able to sleep.
We slept well enough, but awoke weak and faint for want of food; for it was now some twenty-four hours since we had tasted any. "The sun was not yet down; yet we resolved to set out immediately, in hopes that day-light might point out to us something-with which to satisfy our hunger.
After travelling a considerable distance through the woods, just as the sun was setting, we struck into a road. This road we determined to follow, in hopes that it might presently lead us into the neighborhood of some farm-house near which we might light upon something eatable. It was an unlucky resolve; for we had not gone above half a mile, when just upon the crest of a short hill, we suddenly came upon three travellers on horseback, whom the undulations of the road had concealed from us, till we were within a few yards of each other.
Both parties were mutually surprised. The travellers reined up their horses and eyed us sharply. Our appearance might well attract attention. Our clothes, — such as we had, — were torn and ragged. Instead of shoes, we wore a kind of high moccasins, made of untanned ox-hide; we had caps of the same material; and the dresses of both of us, especially of Thomas, were spattered and stained with blood.
They took me for a freeman, and one of them called out, "Hallo, stranger, who are you and where are you going? — and whose fellow is that you have along?"
I did my best to take advantage of my color, and to seem what they took me for. But this I soon found would not avail; for though apparently at first, they did not suspect that I was a slave, yet our appearance was so strange; that they questioned me very closely. As I had no very definite idea where we were, and was totally unacquainted with the neighborhood, I was not at all able to hit upon appropriate answers to the numerous questions they put me;-and my statements soon grew confused and contradictory. This served to excite their suspicions; and while I was attending to the questions of the one who acted as chief spokesman, another of the company suddenly sprang from his horse, and seizing me by the collar, swore that I was either a runaway, or a negro-stealer. The other two jumped down in a moment; and while one of them caught me by the arm, the other attempted to seize Thomas.
He eluded this attempt and turned to run. He had gone but a little distance, when looking back and seeing me on the ground, he forgot at once, his wounds, his weakness and his own danger. He grasped his staff, and rushed to my rescue. They had throttled me till I was powerless and almost insensible; and while one of them still held me to the ground, the other stood up to meet Thomas, who as he turned short about, had struck his pursuer to the earth, and now came on to my relief, with his staff uplifted. His new antagonist was both strong and active. He succeeded in avoiding the stroke of Thomas's cudgel, and immediately closed with him. Thomas had but little use of one arm; and his strength was much reduced by loss of blood and long fasting; but he struggled hard, and was already getting the upper hand, when the fellow whom he had knocked down at the commencement of the fight, regained his senses, and came to the assistance of his companion. Both together, they were too much for him; and they soon got him down and bound his hands. They did the same with me; and one of them having produced a piece of rope from his saddle-bags, they made halters of it, which they put about our necks, and by the application of their whips, they compelled us to keep up with their horses.
Tn about half an hour, we came to a mean and forlorn-looking cabin, by the road-side. It appeared to be a sort of inn, or tavern; and here we were to lodge. The only persons about the house seemed to be the landlady herself and a little daughter some ten or twelve years old. The whole appearance of the place bore evident marks of discomfort and poverty. Our captors had no sooner provided for their horses, than they called for chains; — trace-chains they said, or in fact any thing in the shape of a chain, would answer their purpose. But much to their disappointment, the landlady declared that she had nothing of the sort. However she procured some old rope; and having secured us as effectually as they could, they made us sit down in the passage.
The landlady told them, that in all probability, we were runaways; for the neighborhood had lately been much troubled by them. A company of five or six men, she said, had gone out two or three nights since on purpose to hunt up the rascals, and had unexpectedly come upon quite a party, asleep in the woods around a fire.
The gang seemed too large to be easily taken, but it was resolved that the fellows should not escape; especially as the man whose slaves they were supposed to be, and who was one of the party, openly declared that he had rather they were all shot, than to have them wandering about the country useless to him, and mischievous to his neighbors.
The company separated and each man approached from a different point. Upon a given signal, all fired; and then putting spurs to their horses, they rode off and returned home each by himself. Nobody had stopped to see what execution was done; but as the men were all good shots, it was supposed that most of the runaways were either killed or desperately wounded; and as our clothes were bloody, and one of us was hurt, she thought it likely, she said, that we belonged to that same gang. It appeared in the course of the conversation between the landlady and her guests, that the murderous kind of attack to which our companions had fallen victims, but which had been intended for another party of runaways, is an operation occasionally practised in Lower Carolina, when a party of slave-hunters falls in with a gang of fugitive slaves too large to be easily arrested.
The dispersion of the attacking party, and each one shooting and returning by himself, is only the effect of an ancient and traditionary prejudice. By the law of Carolina, the killing a slave is regarded as murder; and though probably, this law was never enforced, and would doubtless be treated by a jury of modern slave-holders, as an old-fashioned and fanatical absurdity, there still linger, in the breasts of the people, some remains of horror at the idea of deliberate bloodshed, and a sort of superstitious apprehension of the possible enforcement of this antiquated law. To blindfold their own consciences, and to avoid-the possibility of a judicial investigation, each man of an attacking party takes care to see none of the others when they fire; and no one goes to the place to ascertain how many have been killed or disabled. The poor wretches who are not so fortunate as to be shot dead upon the spot, are left to the lingering torments of thirst, fever, starvation and festering wounds; and when at length they die, their skeletons lie bleaching in the Carolina sun, proud proofs of slave-holding civilization and humanity.
While our captors were at supper, the little girl, the landlady's daughter, came to look at us, as we lay in the passage. She was a pretty child, and her soft blue eyes filled with tears as she looked upon us. I asked her for water. She ran to get it for us; and inquired if we did not want something to eat. I told her that we were half dead with hunger; and she no sooner heard it, than she hastened away, and soon returned with a large cake of bread.
Our arms were bound so tight that we were utterly helpless, and the little girl broke the bread, and fed us with her own hand.
Is not this one instance enough to prove that nature never intended man to be a tyrant? Avarice, a blind lust of domination, the false but specious suggestions of ignorance and passion combine to make him so; and pity at length, is banished from his soul. It then seeks refuge in the woman's heart; and when the progress of oppression drives it even thence, as sad and hesitating, it prepares to wing its way to heaven, still it lurks and lingers in the bosom of the child!
By listening closely to the conversation of the travellers, — for by this.time the landlady had produced a jug of whiskey, and they had become very communicative, — we learned that we were within a few miles of the town of Camden, and on the great northern road leading from that town into North Carolina. Our captors it seemed, were from the upper-country. They had not passed through Camden, but had struck into, this road very near the place where they met us. They were travelling into Virginia to purchase slaves.
After discussing the question at considerable length, they concluded to delay their journey for a day or two, and to take us to Camden, in hopes to find our owner and obtain a reward for apprehending us; or if nobody should claim us immediately, they could lodge us in jail, advertise us in the newspapers, and give further attention to the business upon their return.
By this time, the whiskey jug was emptied, and the travellers made preparations for sleeping. There were but two rooms in the house. The landlady and her daughter had one; and some beds were prepared for the guests, in the other. We were carried into their room; and after again lamenting that the landlady could not furnish them with chains, they carefully examined and retightened the ropes with which we were bound, and then undressed and threw themselves upon their beds. They were probably fatigued with their journey, and the whiskey increased their drowsy inclination; so that before long, they all gave evident tokens of being in a sound slumber.
I envied them that happiness; for the tightness of my bonds, and the uneasy position in which I was obliged to lie, prevented me from sleeping. The moonbeams shone in at the window, and made every object distinctly visible. Thomas and myself were lamenting in whispers, our wretched condition, and consulting hopelessly together, when we saw the door of the room cautiously and silently opening. In a moment, the landlady's little daughter made her appearance. She came towards us with noiseless steps, and one hand raised, as if motioning to us to be silent.. In the other, she held a knife; and stooping down she hastily cut the cords by which we were bound.
We did not dare to speak; but our hearts beat hard, and I am sure our looks expressed the gratitude we felt. We gained our feet with as little noise as possible, and were stealing towards the door, when a new thought struck Thomas. He laid his hand upon my shoulder to draw my attention, and then began to pick up the coat, shoes, and other clothes of one of our captors. At once I understood his intention, and imitated his example. The little girl seemed astonished and displeased at this proceeding, and motioned to us to desist. Bat without seeming to understand her gestures, we gained the door with the clothes in our hands; and passing out of the passage, we walked slowly and cautiously for some distance, taking good heed, lest the sound of our footsteps might give an alarm. In the mean time, the little girl patted the house dog on the head, and kept him quiet. When we had gained a sufficient distance, we Started upon a run, which we did not give over till we were fairly out of breath.
As soon as we had recovered ourselves a little, we stripped off our ragged dresses, and hid them in the bushes. Luckily the clothes which we had brought off in our flight, fitted us very tolerably, and gave us a much more respectable, and less suspicious appearance. We now went on for two or three miles, till we came to a road that crossed the one upon which we were travelling, and ran off towards the south.
In all this time, Thomas had said nothing; nor did he scarcely seem to notice my remarks, or to hear the questions, which, from time to time, I put to him. When we came to the cross-road, he suddenly stopped, and took me by the arm. I supposed that he was going to consult with me, as to the course which we should take; and great was my surprise to hear him say, "Archy, here I leave you." 
"You are now," he said, "on the road to the north. You have good clothes, and as much learning as an overseer, You can readily pass for a freeman. It will be very easy for you to get away to those free States of which I have heard you speak so often. If I go with you, we shall both be stopped and questioned. We shall be pursued; and if we keep together, and follow this road, we shall certainly be taken. It is a great way to the free States, and I have little chance and no hope of ever getting there; and if I did, what should I gain by it? I will try the woods again, and do as I can. I shall be able to get back to our old place; — but you, Archy, you can do better. You are sure of getting away to the north. Go, my boy, go, and God bless you."
I was deeply moved; and it was some time before I was able to reply. The thoughts of escaping from my present situation of danger and misery, to a land where I could bear the name, and enjoy the rights of a freeman, flashed upon my mind with a radiant and dazzling brightness that seemed almost to blot out every other feeling.-Yet still my love for Thomas, and the gratitude I owed him, glimmered through these new hopes; and a low voice from the very centre of my heart, bade me not to desert my friend. After too long a pause, and too much hesitation, I began to answer him. I spoke of his wounds; of our sworn friendship; and of the risk he had so lately run in my behalf; and insisted that I would stay with him to the last.
I spoke, I fear, with too little of zeal and earnestness. At least, all that I said, only seemed to confirm Thomas in his determination. He replied that his wounds were healing; and that he was already almost as strong as ever. He added, that if I stayed with him, I might do myself much harm without the chance of doing him any good. He pointed along the road, and in an energetic and commanding voice, he bade me follow it, while he should take the cross-road towards the south.
When Thomas had once made up his mind, there was a firmness in the tone with which he spoke, sufficient often to overawe the most unwilling. At the present moment, I was but too ready to be prevailed upon. He saw his advantage and pursued it. "Go, Archy," he repeated, "go; — if not for your own sake, go for mine! If you stay with. me, and are taken, I shall never forgive you for it."
Little by little, my better feelings yielded; and at last I consented to the separation. I took "Thomas by the hand, and pressed him to my heart. A nobler Spirit never breathed; — I was not worthy to call myself his friend.
"God bless you, Archy," he said, as he left me. I stood watching him as he walked rapidly away; and as I looked, I was ready to sink into the earth with shame and mortification. Once or twice, I was just starting to follow him; but selfish prudence prevailed, and I held back. I watched him till he was out of sight, and then resumed my journey. It was a base desertion, which not even the love of liberty could excuse.