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Then I set to thinking over how to get at
it, and turned over some considerable many ways in my mind; and at last fixed
up a plan that suited me. So then I took the bearings of a woody island that
was down the river a piece, and as soon as it was fairly dark I crept out with
my raft and went for it, and hid it there, and then turned in. I slept the
night through, and got up before it was light, and had my breakfast, and put on
my store clothes, and tied up some others and one thing or another in a bundle,
and took the canoe and cleared for shore. I landed below where I judged was
Phelps's place, and hid my bundle in the woods, and then filled up the canoe
with water, and loaded rocks into her and sunk her where I could find her again
when I wanted her, about a quarter of a mile below a little steam sawmill that
was on the bank.
Then I struck up the road, and when I
passed the mill I see a sign on it, "Phelps's Sawmill," and when I
come to the farm-houses, two or three hundred yards further along, I kept my
eyes peeled, but didn't see nobody around, though it was good daylight now. But
I didn't mind, because I didn't want to see nobody just yet -- I only wanted to
get the lay of the land. According to my plan, I was going to turn up there
from the village, not from below. So I just took a look, and shoved along,
straight for town. Well, the very first man I see when I got there was the
duke. He was sticking up a bill for the Royal Nonesuch -- three-night
performance -- like that other time. They had the cheek, them frauds! I was
right on him before I could shirk. He looked astonished, and says:
"Hel-LO! Where'd YOU come from?"
Then he says, kind of glad and eager, "Where's the raft? -- got her in a
good place?"
I says:
"Why, that's just what I was going to
ask your grace."
Then he didn't look so joyful, and says:
"What was your idea for asking
ME?" he says.
"Well," I says, "when I see
the king in that doggery yesterday I says to myself, we can't get him home for
hours, till he's soberer; so I went a-loafing around town to put in the time
and wait. A man up and offered me ten cents to help him pull a skiff over the
river and back to fetch a sheep, and so I went along; but when we was dragging
him to the boat, and the man left me a-holt of the rope and went behind him to
shove him along, he was too strong for me and jerked loose and run, and we after
him. We didn't have no dog, and so we had to chase him all over the country
till we tired him out. We never got him till dark; then we fetched him over,
and I started down for the raft. When I got there and see it was gone, I says
to myself, 'They've got into trouble and had to leave; and they've took my
nigger, which is the only nigger I've got in the world, and now I'm in a
strange country, and ain't got no property no more, nor nothing, and no way to
make my living;' so I set down and cried. I slept in the woods all night. But
what DID become of the raft, then? -- and Jim -- poor Jim!"
"Blamed if I know -- that is, what's
become of the raft. That old fool had made a trade and got forty dollars, and
when we found him in the doggery the loafers had matched half-dollars with him
and got every cent but what he'd spent for whisky; and when I got him home late
last night and found the raft gone, we said, 'That little rascal has stole our
raft and shook us, and run off down the river.'"
"I wouldn't shake my NIGGER, would I?
-- the only nigger I had in the world, and the only property."
"We never thought of that. Fact is, I
reckon we'd come to consider him OUR nigger; yes, we did consider him so --
goodness knows we had trouble enough for him. So when we see the raft was gone
and we flat broke, there warn't anything for it but to try the Royal Nonesuch
another shake. And I've pegged along ever since, dry as a powder-horn. Where's
that ten cents? Give it here."
I had considerable money, so I give him ten
cents, but begged him to spend it for something to eat, and give me some,
because it was all the money I had, and I hadn't had nothing to eat since
yesterday. He never said nothing. The next minute he whirls on me and says:
"Do you reckon that nigger would blow
on us? We'd skin him if he done that!"
"How can he blow? Hain't he run
off?"
"No! That old fool sold him, and never
divided with me, and the money's gone."
"SOLD him?" I says, and begun to
cry; "why, he was MY nigger, and that was my money. Where is he? -- I want
my nigger."
"Well, you can't GET your nigger,
that's all -- so dry up your blubbering. Looky here -- do you think YOU'D
venture to blow on us? Blamed if I think I'd trust you. Why, if you WAS to blow
on us --"
He stopped, but I never see the duke look
so ugly out of his eyes before. I went on a-whimpering, and says:
"I don't want to blow on nobody; and I
ain't got no time to blow, nohow. I got to turn out and find my nigger."
He looked kinder bothered, and stood there
with his bills fluttering on his arm, thinking, and wrinkling up his forehead.
At last he says:
"I'll tell you something. We got to be
here three days. If you'll promise you won't blow, and won't let the nigger
blow, I'll tell you where to find him."
So I promised, and he says:
"A farmer by the name of Silas
Ph----" and then he stopped. You see, he started to tell me the truth; but
when he stopped that way, and begun to study and think again, I reckoned he was
changing his mind. And so he was. He wouldn't trust me; he wanted to make sure
of having me out of the way the whole three days. So pretty soon he says:
"The man that bought him is named
Abram Foster -- Abram G. Foster -- and he lives forty mile back here in the
country, on the road to Lafayette."
"All right," I says, "I can
walk it in three days. And I'll start this very afternoon."
"No you wont, you'll start NOW; and
don't you lose any time about it, neither, nor do any gabbling by the way. Just
keep a tight tongue in your head and move right along, and then you won't get
into trouble with US, d'ye hear?"
That was the order I wanted, and that was
the one I played for. I wanted to be left free to work my plans.
"So clear out," he says;
"and you can tell Mr. Foster whatever you want to. Maybe you can get him
to believe that Jim IS your nigger -- some idiots don't require documents --
leastways I've heard there's such down South here. And when you tell him the
handbill and the reward's bogus, maybe he'll believe you when you explain to
him what the idea was for getting 'em out. Go 'long now, and tell him anything
you want to; but mind you don't work your jaw any BETWEEN here and there."
So I left, and struck for the back country.
I didn't look around, but I kinder felt like he was watching me. But I knowed I
could tire him out at that. I went straight out in the country as much as a
mile before I stopped; then I doubled back through the woods towards Phelps'. I
reckoned I better start in on my plan straight off without fooling around,
because I wanted to stop Jim's mouth till these fellows could get away. I
didn't want no trouble with their kind. I'd seen all I wanted to of them, and
wanted to get entirely shut of them.
CHAPTER XXXII.
WHEN I got there it was all still and
Sunday-like, and hot and sunshiny; the hands was gone to the fields; and there
was them kind of faint dronings of bugs and flies in the air that makes it seem
so lonesome and like everybody's dead and gone; and if a breeze fans along and
quivers the leaves it makes you feel mournful, because you feel like it's
spirits whispering -- spirits that's been dead ever so many years -- and you
always think they're talking about YOU. As a general thing it makes a body wish
HE was dead, too, and done with it all.
Phelps' was one of these little one-horse
cotton plantations, and they all look alike. A rail fence round a two-acre
yard; a stile made out of logs sawed off and up-ended in steps, like barrels of
a different length, to climb over the fence with, and for the women to stand on
when they are going to jump on to a horse; some sickly grass-patches in the big
yard, but mostly it was bare and smooth, like an old hat with the nap rubbed
off; big double log-house for the white folks -- hewed logs, with the chinks stopped
up with mud or mortar, and these mud-stripes been whitewashed some time or
another; round-log kitchen, with a big broad, open but roofed passage joining
it to the house; log smokehouse back of the kitchen; three little log
nigger-cabins in a row t'other side the smoke-house; one little hut all by
itself away down against the back fence, and some outbuildings down a piece the
other side; ashhopper and big kettle to bile soap in by the little hut; bench
by the kitchen door, with bucket of water and a gourd; hound asleep there in
the sun; more hounds asleep round about; about three shade trees away off in a
corner; some currant bushes and gooseberry bushes in one place by the fence;
outside of the fence a garden and a watermelon patch; then the cotton fields
begins, and after the fields the woods.
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