Among the Pines Part 16

"If that -- n.i.g.g.e.r hadn't held me, I'd had Moye in -- by this time," said the Colonel to me, still livid with excitement.

"The law will deal with him, my friend. The negro has saved you from murder."

"The law be d--; it's too good for such a--hound; and that the d-- n.i.g.g.e.r should have dared to hold me--by--he'll rue it."

He then turned, exhausted with the recent struggle, and, with a weak, uncertain step, entered the cabin. Kneeling down by the dead body of the negro, he attempted to raise it; but his strength was gone. He motioned to me to aid him, and we placed the corpse on the bed. Tearing open the clothing, we wiped away the still flowing blood, and saw the terrible wound which had sent the negro to his account. It was sickening to look on, and I turned to go.

The negro woman, who was weeping and wringing her hands, now approached, and, in a voice nearly choked with sobs, said:

"Ma.s.sa, oh ma.s.sa, I done it! it's me dat killed him!"

"I know you did, you d----. Get out of my sight."

"Oh, ma.s.sa," sobbed the woman, falling on her knees, "I'se so sorry; oh, forgib me!"

"Go to ----, you ----, that's the place for you," said the Colonel, striking the kneeling woman with his foot, and felling her to the floor.

Unwilling to see or hear more, I left the master with the slave.

[Footnote D: The "North Counties" are the north-eastern portion of North Carolina, and include the towns of Washington and Newbern. They are an old turpentine region, and the trees are nearly exhausted. The finer virgin forests of South Carolina, and other cotton States, have tempted many of the North County farmers to emigrate thither, within the past ten years, and they now own nearly all the trees that are worked in South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. They generally have few slaves of their own, their hands being hired of wealthier men in their native districts. The "hiring" is an annual operation, and is done at Christmas time, when the negroes are frequently allowed to go home. They treat the slaves well, give them an allowance of meat (salt pork or beef), as much corn as they can eat, and a gill of whiskey daily. No cla.s.s of men at the South are so industrious, energetic, and enterprising. Though not so well informed, they have many of the traits of our New England farmers; in fact, are frequently called "North Carolina Yankees." It was these people the overseer proposed to hang. The reader will doubtless think that "hanging was not good enough for them."]

CHAPTER VI.

THE PLANTER'S "FAMILY."

A quarter of a mile through the woods brought me to the cabin of the old negress where Scip lodged. I rapped at the door, and was admitted by the old woman. Scip, nearly asleep, was lying on a pile of blankets in the corner.

"Are you mad?" I said to him. "The Colonel is frantic with rage, and swears he will kill you. You must be off at once."

"No, no, ma.s.sa; neber fear; I knows him. He'd keep his word, ef he loss his life by it. I'm gwine afore sunrise; till den I'm safe."

"Der ye tink Ma.s.sa Davy wud broke his word, sar?" said the old negress, bridling up her bent form, and speaking in a tone in which indignation mingled with wounded dignity; "p'raps gemmen do dat at de Norf--dey neber does it har."

"Excuse me, Aunty; I know your master is a man of honor; but he's very much excited, and very angry with Scip."

"No matter for dat, sar; Ma.s.sa Davy neber done a mean ting sense he war born."

"Ma.s.sa K---- tinks a heap ob de Cunnel, Aunty; but he reckon he'm sort o' crazy now; dat make him afeard," said Scip, in an apologetic tone.

"What ef he am crazy? You'se safe _har_," rejoined the old woman, dropping her aged limbs into a chair, and rocking away with much the air which ancient white ladies occasionally a.s.sume.

"Wont you ax Ma.s.sa K---- to a cheer?" said Scip; "he hab ben bery kine to me."

The negress then offered me a seat; but it was some minutes before I rendered myself sufficiently agreeable to thaw out the icy dignity of her manner. Meanwhile I glanced around the apartment.

Though the exterior of the cabin was like the others on the plantation, the interior had a rude, grotesque elegance about it far in advance of any negro hut I had ever seen. The logs were c.h.i.n.ked with clay, and the one window, though dest.i.tute of gla.s.s, and ornamented with the inevitable board-shutter, had a green moreen curtain, which kept out the wind and the rain. A worn but neat and well swept carpet partly covered the floor, and on the low bed was spread a patch-work counter-pane.

Against the side of the room opposite the door stood an antique, bra.s.s-handled bureau, and an old-fashioned table, covered with a faded woollen cloth, occupied the centre of the apartment. In the corner near the fire was a curiously-contrived sideboard, made of narrow strips of yellow pine, tongued and grooved together, and oiled so as to bring out the beautiful grain of the wood. On it were several broken and cracked gla.s.ses, and an array of irregular crockery. The rocking chair, in which the old negress pa.s.sed the most of her time, was of mahogany, wadded and covered with chintz, and the arm-seat I occupied, though old and patched in many places, had evidently moved in good society.

The mistress of this second-hand furniture establishment was arrayed in a ma.s.s of cast-off finery, whose gay colors were in striking contrast with her jet-black skin and bent, decrepit form. Her gown, which was very short, was of flaming red and yellow worsted stuff, and the enormous turban that graced her head and hid all but a few tufts of her frizzled, "pepper-and-salt" locks, was evidently a contribution from the family stock of worn-out pillow-cases. She was very aged--upward of seventy--and so thin that, had she not been endowed with speech and motion, she might have pa.s.sed for a bundle of whalebone thrown into human shape, and covered with a coating of gutta-percha. It was evident she had been a valued house-servant, whose few remaining years were being soothed and solaced by the kind and indulgent care of a grateful master.

Scip, I soon saw, was a favorite with the old negress, and the marked respect he showed me quickly dispelled the angry feeling my doubts of "Ma.s.sa Davy" had excited, and opened her heart and her mouth at the same moment. She was terribly garrulous; her tongue, as soon as it got under way, ran on as if propelled by machinery and acquainted with the secret of perpetual motion; but she was an interesting study. The single-hearted attachment she showed for her master and his family gave me a new insight into the practical working of "the peculiar inst.i.tution," and convinced me that even slavery, in some of its aspects, is not so black as it is painted.

When we were seated, I said to Scip, "What induced you to lay hands on the Colonel? It is death, you know, if he enforces the law."

"I knows dat, ma.s.sa; I knows dat; but I had to do it. Dat Moye am de ole debble, but de folks round har wud hab turned on de Cunnel, sh.o.r.e, ef he'd killed him. Dey don't like de Cunnel; dey say he'm a stuck-up seshener."

"The Colonel, then, has befriended you at some time?"

"No, no, sar; 'twarn't dat; dough I'se know'd him a long w'ile--eber sense my ole ma.s.sa fotched me from Habana--but 'twarn't dat."

"Then _why_ did you do it?"

The black hesitated a moment, and glanced at the old negress, then said:

"You see, ma.s.sa, w'en I fuss come to Charles'n, a pore little ting, wid no friend in all de worle, dis ole aunty war a mudder to me. She nussed de Cunnel; he am jess like her own chile, and I know'd 'twud kill her ef he got hissef enter trubble."

I noticed certain convulsive twitchings about the corners of the old woman's mouth as she rose from her seat, threw her arms around Scip, and, in words broken by sobs, faltered out:

"_You_ am my chile; I loves you better dan Ma.s.sa Davy--better dan all de worle."

The scene, had they not been black, would have been one for a painter.

"You were the Colonel's nurse, Aunty," I said, when she had regained her composure. "Have you always lived with him?"

"Yas, sar, allers; I nussed him, and den de chil'ren--all ob 'em."

"_All_ the children? I thought the Colonel had but one--Miss Clara."

"Wal, he habn't, ma.s.sa, only de boys."

"What boys? I never heard he had sons."

"Neber heerd of young Ma.s.sa Davy, nor Ma.s.sa Tommy! Haint you _seed_ Ma.s.sa Tommy, sar?"

"Tommy! I was told he was Madam P----'s son."

"So he am; Ma.s.sa Davy had _her_ long afore he had missus."

The truth flashed upon me; but could it be possible? Was I in South Carolina or in Utah?

"Who _is_ Madam P----?" I asked.

The old woman hesitated a moment as if in doubt whether she had not said too much; but Scip quietly replied: