Among the Pines Part 21

"Thank ye, thank ye," gasped the overseer, raising himself on one arm, and clutching at the lady's hand, which he tried to lift to his lips.

"Don't say any more now," said Madam P----, quietly; "you must rest and be quiet, or you wont get well."

"Shan't I get well? Oh, I can't die--I can't die _now_!"

The lady made a soothing reply, and giving him an opiate, and arranging the bedding so that he might rest more easily, she left the room with me.

As we stepped into the hall, I saw through the front door, which was open, the horses harnessed in readiness for "meeting," and the Colonel pacing to and fro on the piazza, smoking a cigar. He perceived us, and halted in the doorway.

"So you've brought that d---- bloodthirsty villain into my house!" he said to Madam P---- in a tone of strong displeasure.

"How could I help it? The negroes are mad, and would kill him anywhere else," replied the lady, with a certain self-confidence that showed she knew her power over the Colonel.

"Why should _you_ interfere between them and him? Has he not insulted you enough to make you let him alone? Can you so easily forgive his taunting you with"--He did not finish the sentence, but what I had learned on the previous evening from the old nurse gave me a clue to its meaning. A red flame flushed the face and neck of the octoroon woman--her eyes literally flashed fire, and her very breath seemed to come with pain; in a moment, however, this emotion pa.s.sed away, and she quietly said, "Let me settle that in my own way. He has served _you_ well--_you_ have nothing against him that the law will not punish."

"By ----, you are the most unaccountable woman I ever knew," exclaimed the Colonel, striding up and down the piazza, the angry feeling pa.s.sing from his face, and giving way to a mingled expression of wonder and admiration. The conversation was here interrupted by Jim, who just then made his appearance, hat in hand.

"Well, Jim, what is it?" asked his master.

"We'se gib'n Sam twenty lashes, ma'am, but he beg so hard, and say he so sorry, dat I tole him I'd ax you 'fore we gabe him any more."

"Well, if he's sorry, that's enough; but tell him he'll get fifty another time," said the lady.

"What Sam is it?" asked the Colonel.

"Big Sam, the driver," said Jim.

"Why was he whipped?"

"He told me _you_ were his master, and insisted on whipping Moye,"

replied the lady.

"Did he dare to do that? Give him a hundred, Jim, not one less," roared the Colonel.

"Yas, ma.s.sa," said Jim, turning to go.

The lady looked significantly at the negro and shook her head, but said nothing, and he left.

"Come, Alice, it is nearly time for meeting, and I want to stop and see Sandy on the way."

"I reckon I wont go," said Madam P----.

"You stay to take care of Moye, I suppose," said the Colonel, with a slight sneer.

"Yes," replied the lady, "he is badly hurt, and in danger of inflammation."

"Well, suit yourself. Mr. K----, come, _we'll_ go--you'll meet some of the _natives_."

The lady retired to the house, and the Colonel and I were soon ready.

The driver brought the horses to the door, and as we were about to enter the carriage, I noticed Jim taking his accustomed seat on the box.

"Who's looking after Sam?" asked the Colonel.

"n.o.body, Cunnel; de ma'am leff him gwo."

"How dare you disobey me? Didn't I tell you to give him a hundred?"

"Yas, ma.s.sa, but de ma'am tole me notter."

"Well, another time you mind what _I_ say--do you hear?" said his master.

"Yas, ma.s.sa," said the negro, with a broad grin, "I allers do dat."

"You _never_ do it, you d---- n.i.g.g.e.r; I ought to have flogged you long ago."

Jim said nothing, but gave a quiet laugh, showing no sort of fear, and we entered the carriage. I afterward learned from him that he had never been whipped, and that all the negroes on the plantation obeyed the lady when, which was seldom, her orders came in conflict with their master's.

They knew if they did not, the Colonel would whip them.

As we rode slowly along the Colonel said to me, "Well, you see that the best people have to flog n.i.g.g.e.rs sometimes."

"Yes, _I_ should have given that fellow a hundred lashes, at least. I think the effect on the others would have been bad if Madam P---- had not had him flogged."

"But she generally goes against it. I don't remember of her having it done in ten years before. And yet, though I've the worst gang of n.i.g.g.e.rs in the district, they obey her like so many children."

"Why is that?"

"Well, there's a kind of magnetism about her that makes everybody love her; and then she tends them in sickness, and is constantly doing little things for their comfort; _that_ attaches them to her. She is an extraordinary woman."

"Whose negroes are those, Colonel?" I asked, as, after a while, we pa.s.sed a gang of about a dozen, at work near the roadside. Some were tending a tar-kiln, and some engaged in cutting into fire-wood the pines which a recent tornado had thrown to the ground.

"They are mine, but they are working now for themselves. I let such as will, work on Sunday. I furnish the "raw material," and pay them for what they do, as I would a white man."

"Wouldn't it be better to make them go to hear the old preacher; couldn't they learn something from him?"

"Not much; Old Pomp never read any thing but the Bible, and he doesn't understand that; besides, they can't be taught. You can't make 'a whistle out of a pig's tail;' you can't make a n.i.g.g.e.r into a white man."

Just here the carriage stopped suddenly, and we looked out to see the cause. The road by which we had come was a mere opening through the pines; no fences separated it from the wooded land, and being seldom travelled, the track was scarcely visible. In many places it widened to a hundred feet, but in others tall trees had grown up on its opposite sides, leaving scarcely width enough for a single carriage to pa.s.s along. In one of these narrow pa.s.sages, just before us, a queer-looking vehicle had upset, and scattered its contents in the road. We had no alternative but to wait till it got out of the way; and we all alighted to reconnoitre.

The vehicle was a little larger than an ordinary handcart, and was mounted on wheels that had probably served their time on a Boston dray before commencing their travels in Secessiondom. Its box of pine boarding and its shafts of rough oak poles were evidently of Southern home manufacture. Attached to it by a rope harness, with a primitive bridle of decidedly original construction, was--not a horse, nor a mule, nor even an alligator, but a "three-year-old heifer."

The wooden linch-pin of the cart had given way, and the weight of a half-dozen barrels of turpentine had thrown the box off its balance, and rolled the contents about in all directions.

The appearance of the proprietor of this nondescript vehicle was in keeping with his establishment. His coat, which was much too short in the waist and much too long in the skirts, was of the common reddish gray linsey, and his nether garments, which stopped just below the knees, were of the same material. From there downwards, he wore only the covering that is said to have been the fashion in Paradise before Adam took to fig-leaves. His hat had a rim broader than a political platform, and his skin a color half way between tobacco-juice and a tallow candle.

"Wal, Cunnul, how dy'ge?" said the stranger, as we stepped from the carriage.

"Very well, Ned; how are you?"