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.It will have a pernicious influence,and set them all running away.The swamps will be full ofthem.A little kindness would be far more effectual in restrain-ing them, and rendering them obedient, than the use of suchdeadly weapons.Every planter on the bayou should frown upon86 such inhumanity.It is for the interest of all to do so.It is evid-ent enough, Mr.Tibeats, that you and Platt cannot live togeth-er.You dislike him, and would not hesitate to kill him, andknowing it, he will run from you again through fear of his life.Now, Tibeats, you must sell him, or hire him out, at least.Un-less you do so, I shall take measures to get him out of yourpossession."In this spirit Ford addressed him the remainder of the dis-tance.I opened not my mouth.On reaching the plantation theyentered the great house, while I repaired to Eliza's cabin.Theslaves were astonished to find me there, on returning from thefield, supposing I was drowned.That night, again, theygathered about the cabin to listen to the story of my adventure.They took it for granted I would be whipped, and that it wouldbe severe, the well-known penalty of running away being fivehundred lashes."Poor fellow," said Eliza, taking me by the hand, "it wouldhave been better for you if you had drowned.You have a cruelmaster, and he will kill you yet, I am afraid."Lawson suggested that it might be, overseer Chapin wouldbe appointed to inflict the punishment, in which case it wouldnot be severe, whereupon Mary, Rachel, Bristol, and othershoped it would be Master Ford, and then it would be no whip-ping at all.They all pitied me and tried to console me, andwere sad in view of the castigation that awaited me, exceptKentucky John.There were no bounds to his laughter; he filledthe cabin with cachinnations, holding his sides to prevent anexplosion, and the cause of his noisy mirth was the idea of myoutstripping the hounds.Somehow, he looked at the subject ina comical light."I know'd dey would'nt cotch him, when he runcross de plantation.O, de lor', did'nt Platt pick his feet rightup, tho', hey? When dem dogs got whar he was, hewas'nt dar haw, haw, haw! O, de lor' a' mity!" and then Ken-tucky John relapsed into another of his boisterous fits.Early the next morning, Tibeats left the plantation.In thecourse of the forenoon, while sauntering about the gin-house, atall, good-looking man came to me, and inquired if I was Ti-beats' boy, that youthful appellation being applied indiscrimin-ately to slaves even though they may have passed the number87 of three score years and ten.I took off my hat, and answeredthat I was."How would you like to work for me?" he inquired."Oh, I would like to, very much," said I, inspired with a sud-den hope of getting away from Tibeats."You worked under Myers at Peter Tanner's, didn't you?"I replied I had, adding some complimentary remarks that My-ers had made concerning me."Well, boy," said he, "I have hired you of your master to workfor me in the "Big Cane Brake," thirty-eight miles from here,down on Red River."This man was Mr.Eldret, who lived below Ford's, on thesame side of the bayou.I accompanied him to his plantation,and in the morning started with his slave Sam, and a wagon-load of provisions, drawn by four mules, for the Big Cane,Eldret and Myers having preceded us on horseback.This Samwas a native of Charleston, where he had a mother, brotherand sisters.He "allowed" a common word among both blackand white that Tibeats was a mean man, and hoped, as I mostearnestly did also, that his master would buy me.We proceeded down the south shore of the bayou, crossing itat Carey's plantation; from thence to Huff Power, passingwhich, we came upon the Bayou Rouge road, which runs to-wards Red River.After passing through Bayou Rouge Swamp,and just at sunset, turning from the highway, we struck off intothe "Big Cane Brake." We followed an unbeaten track, scarcelywide enough to admit the wagon The cane, such as are usedfor fishing-rods, were as thick as they could stand.A personcould not be seen through them the distance of a rod.Thepaths of wild beasts run through them in various directions the bear and the American tiger abounding in these brakes,and wherever there is a basin of stagnant water, it is full ofalligators.We kept on our lonely course through the "Big Cane" severalmiles, when we entered a clearing, known as "Sutton's Field."Many years before, a man by the name of Sutton had penet-rated the wilderness of cane to this solitary place.Traditionhas it that he fled thither, a fugitive, not from service, but fromjustice.Here he lived alone recluse and hermit of theswamp with his own hands planting the seed and gathering in88 the harvest.One day a band of Indians stole upon his solitude,and after a bloody battle, overpowered and massacred him.Formiles the country round, in the slaves' quarters, and on thepiazzas of "great houses," where white children listen to super-stitious tales, the story goes, that that spot, in the heart of the"Big Cane," is a haunted place.For more than a quarter of acentury, human voices had rarely, if ever, disturbed the silenceof the clearing.Rank and noxious weeds had overspread theonce cultivated field serpents sunned themselves on the door-way of the crumbling cabin.It was indeed a dreary picture ofdesolation.Passing "Sutton's Field," we followed a new-cut road twomiles farther, which brought us to its termination.We had nowreached the wild lands of Mr.Eldret, where he contemplatedclearing up an extensive plantation.We went to work nextmorning with our cane-knives, and cleared a sufficient space toallow the erection of two cabins one for Myers and Eldret, theother for Sam, myself, and the slaves that were to join us.Wewere now in the midst of trees of enormous growth, whosewide-spreading branches almost shut out the light of the sun,while the space between the trunks was an impervious mass ofcane, with here and there an occasional palmetto.The bay and the sycamore, the oak and the cypress, reach agrowth unparalleled, in those fertile lowlands bordering theRed River [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.It will have a pernicious influence,and set them all running away.The swamps will be full ofthem.A little kindness would be far more effectual in restrain-ing them, and rendering them obedient, than the use of suchdeadly weapons.Every planter on the bayou should frown upon86 such inhumanity.It is for the interest of all to do so.It is evid-ent enough, Mr.Tibeats, that you and Platt cannot live togeth-er.You dislike him, and would not hesitate to kill him, andknowing it, he will run from you again through fear of his life.Now, Tibeats, you must sell him, or hire him out, at least.Un-less you do so, I shall take measures to get him out of yourpossession."In this spirit Ford addressed him the remainder of the dis-tance.I opened not my mouth.On reaching the plantation theyentered the great house, while I repaired to Eliza's cabin.Theslaves were astonished to find me there, on returning from thefield, supposing I was drowned.That night, again, theygathered about the cabin to listen to the story of my adventure.They took it for granted I would be whipped, and that it wouldbe severe, the well-known penalty of running away being fivehundred lashes."Poor fellow," said Eliza, taking me by the hand, "it wouldhave been better for you if you had drowned.You have a cruelmaster, and he will kill you yet, I am afraid."Lawson suggested that it might be, overseer Chapin wouldbe appointed to inflict the punishment, in which case it wouldnot be severe, whereupon Mary, Rachel, Bristol, and othershoped it would be Master Ford, and then it would be no whip-ping at all.They all pitied me and tried to console me, andwere sad in view of the castigation that awaited me, exceptKentucky John.There were no bounds to his laughter; he filledthe cabin with cachinnations, holding his sides to prevent anexplosion, and the cause of his noisy mirth was the idea of myoutstripping the hounds.Somehow, he looked at the subject ina comical light."I know'd dey would'nt cotch him, when he runcross de plantation.O, de lor', did'nt Platt pick his feet rightup, tho', hey? When dem dogs got whar he was, hewas'nt dar haw, haw, haw! O, de lor' a' mity!" and then Ken-tucky John relapsed into another of his boisterous fits.Early the next morning, Tibeats left the plantation.In thecourse of the forenoon, while sauntering about the gin-house, atall, good-looking man came to me, and inquired if I was Ti-beats' boy, that youthful appellation being applied indiscrimin-ately to slaves even though they may have passed the number87 of three score years and ten.I took off my hat, and answeredthat I was."How would you like to work for me?" he inquired."Oh, I would like to, very much," said I, inspired with a sud-den hope of getting away from Tibeats."You worked under Myers at Peter Tanner's, didn't you?"I replied I had, adding some complimentary remarks that My-ers had made concerning me."Well, boy," said he, "I have hired you of your master to workfor me in the "Big Cane Brake," thirty-eight miles from here,down on Red River."This man was Mr.Eldret, who lived below Ford's, on thesame side of the bayou.I accompanied him to his plantation,and in the morning started with his slave Sam, and a wagon-load of provisions, drawn by four mules, for the Big Cane,Eldret and Myers having preceded us on horseback.This Samwas a native of Charleston, where he had a mother, brotherand sisters.He "allowed" a common word among both blackand white that Tibeats was a mean man, and hoped, as I mostearnestly did also, that his master would buy me.We proceeded down the south shore of the bayou, crossing itat Carey's plantation; from thence to Huff Power, passingwhich, we came upon the Bayou Rouge road, which runs to-wards Red River.After passing through Bayou Rouge Swamp,and just at sunset, turning from the highway, we struck off intothe "Big Cane Brake." We followed an unbeaten track, scarcelywide enough to admit the wagon The cane, such as are usedfor fishing-rods, were as thick as they could stand.A personcould not be seen through them the distance of a rod.Thepaths of wild beasts run through them in various directions the bear and the American tiger abounding in these brakes,and wherever there is a basin of stagnant water, it is full ofalligators.We kept on our lonely course through the "Big Cane" severalmiles, when we entered a clearing, known as "Sutton's Field."Many years before, a man by the name of Sutton had penet-rated the wilderness of cane to this solitary place.Traditionhas it that he fled thither, a fugitive, not from service, but fromjustice.Here he lived alone recluse and hermit of theswamp with his own hands planting the seed and gathering in88 the harvest.One day a band of Indians stole upon his solitude,and after a bloody battle, overpowered and massacred him.Formiles the country round, in the slaves' quarters, and on thepiazzas of "great houses," where white children listen to super-stitious tales, the story goes, that that spot, in the heart of the"Big Cane," is a haunted place.For more than a quarter of acentury, human voices had rarely, if ever, disturbed the silenceof the clearing.Rank and noxious weeds had overspread theonce cultivated field serpents sunned themselves on the door-way of the crumbling cabin.It was indeed a dreary picture ofdesolation.Passing "Sutton's Field," we followed a new-cut road twomiles farther, which brought us to its termination.We had nowreached the wild lands of Mr.Eldret, where he contemplatedclearing up an extensive plantation.We went to work nextmorning with our cane-knives, and cleared a sufficient space toallow the erection of two cabins one for Myers and Eldret, theother for Sam, myself, and the slaves that were to join us.Wewere now in the midst of trees of enormous growth, whosewide-spreading branches almost shut out the light of the sun,while the space between the trunks was an impervious mass ofcane, with here and there an occasional palmetto.The bay and the sycamore, the oak and the cypress, reach agrowth unparalleled, in those fertile lowlands bordering theRed River [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]