Bricks Without Straw Part 28

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

A VOICE FROM THE DARKNESS.

It was two weeks after Miss Ainslie's involuntary flight from Red Wing that Nimbus, when he arose one morning, found a large pine board hung across his gateway. It was perhaps six feet long and some eighteen or twenty inches wide in the widest part, smoothly planed upon one side and shaped like a coffin lid. A hole had been bored in either end, near the upper corner, and through each of these a stout cord had been pa.s.sed and tied into a loop, which, being slipped over a paling, one on each side the gate, left the board swinging before it so as effectually to bar its opening unless the board were first removed.

The attention of Nimbus was first directed to it by a neighbor-woman who, stopping in front of the gate, called out to him in great excitement, as he sat with Berry Lawson on his porch waiting for his breakfast:

"Oh, Bre'er Nimbus, what in de libbin' yairth is dis h'yer on your gate? La sakes, but de Kluckers is after you now, sh.o.r.e 'nough!"

"Why, what's de matter wid yer, Cynthy?" said Nimbus, cheerfully.

"Yer hain't seen no ghosteses nor nuffin', bez ye?"

"Ghosteses, did yer say?" answered the excited woman. "Jes yer come an' look, an' ef yer don't say hit wuss ner ghosteses, yer may count Cynthy a fool. Dat's all."

Berry started down to the gate, Nimbus following him, carelessly.

"Why, h.e.l.lo, Bre'er Nimbus! Yer sh.o.r.e hez got a signboard cross de pa.s.sway. Jes look a' dat now! What yer 'spect it mout be, cousin?"

said Berry, stopping short and pointing to the board hung on the fence.

"'Clar, I dunno," said Nimbus, as he strode forward and leaned over the fence to get a sight of the other side of the board. "'Spec'

it must be some of dem Ku Kluck's work, ez Cynthy says."

After examining it a moment, he directed Berry to lift up the other end, and together they carried it to the house of Eliab Hill, where its grotesque characters were interpreted, so far as he was able to translate them, as well as the purport of a warning letter fastened on the board by means of a large pocket-knife thrust through it, and left sticking in the soft wood.

Upon the head of the coffin-shaped board was roughly drawn, in black paint, a skull and cross-bones and, underneath them, the words "Eliab Hill and Nimbus Desmit," and below these still, the mystic cabala, "K.K.K," a formulary at which, just at that time, a great part of the nation was laughing as a capital ill.u.s.tration of American humor. It was accounted simply a piece of grotesquerie intended to frighten the ignorant and superst.i.tious negro.

The old claim of the South, that the colored man could be controlled and induced to labor only by the lash or its equivalent, had many believers still, even among the most earnest opponents of slavery, and not a few of these even laughed good-naturedly at the grotesque pictures in ill.u.s.trated journals of shadowy beings in horrible masks and terrified negroes cowering in the darkness with eyes distended, hair rising in kinky tufts upon their heads, and teeth showing white from ear to ear, evidently clattering like castanets.

It was wonderfully funny to far-away readers, and it made uproarious mirth in the aristocratic homes of the South. From the banks of the Rio Grande to the waters of the Potomac, the lordly Southron laughed over his gla.s.s, laughed on the train, laughed in the street, and laughed under his black cowl of weirdly decorated muslin--not so much at the victims of the terrible Klan, as at the silly North which was shaking its sides at the mask he wore. It was an era of fun. Everybody laughed. The street gamins imitated the _Kluck,_ which gave name to the Klan. It was one of the funniest things the world had ever known.

The Yankee--Brother Jonathan--had long been noted as a droll.

A grin was as much a part of his stock apparel as tow breeches or a palm-leaf hat. The negro, too, had from time immemorial been portrayed upon the stage and in fiction as an irrepressible and inimitably farcical fellow. But the "Southern gentleman" was a man of different kidney from either of these. A sardonic dignity hedged him about with peculiar sacredness. He was chivalrous and baronial in his instincts, surroundings, and characteristics. He was nervous, excitable, and bloodthirsty. He would "pluck up drowned honor by the locks" and make a target of everyone who laughed. He hunted, fought, gambled, made much of his ancestors, hated n.i.g.g.e.rs, despised Yankees, and swore and swaggered on all occasions. That was the way he was pictured in the ancient days. He laughed--sometimes--not often, and then somewhat sarcastically--but he did not make himself ridiculous. His _amour propre_ was most intense. He appreciated fun, but did not care that it should be at his expense.

He was grave, irritable and splenetic; but never comical. A braggart, a rough-rider, an aristocrat; but never a masquerader. That was the old-time idea.

Yet so had the war and the lapse of half a decade changed this people that in one State forty thousand men, in another thirty, in others more and in others less, banded together with solemn oaths and b.l.o.o.d.y ceremonies, just to go up and down the earth in the bright moonlight, and play upon the superst.i.tious fears of the poor ignorant and undeveloped people around them. They became a race of jesters, moonlight masqueraders, personators of the dead. They inst.i.tuted clubs and paraded by hundreds, the trained cavalry of a ghostly army organized into companies, battalions, divisions, departments, having at their head the "Grand Wizard of the Empire."

It was all in sport--a great jest, or at the worst designed only to induce the colored man to work somewhat more industriously from apprehension of ghostly displeasure. It was a funny thing--the gravest, most saturnine, and self-conscious people on the globe making themselves ridiculous, ghostly masqueraders by the hundred thousand! The world which had lately wept with sympathy for the misfortunes of the "Lost Cause," was suddenly convulsed with merriment at the midnight antics of its chivalric defenders. The most vaunted race of warriors seized the cap and bells and stole also the plaudits showered upon the fool. Grave statesmen, reverend divines, legislators, judges, lawyers, generals, merchants, planters, all who could muster a good horse, as it would seem, joined the jolly cavalcade and rollicked through the moonlight nights, merely to make fun for their conquerors by playing on the superst.i.tious fear of the sable allies of the Northmen. Never before was such good-natured complaisance, such untiring effort to please. So the North laughed, the South chuckled, and the world wondered.

But the little knot of colored men and women who stood around Eliab Hill while he drew out the knife which was thrust through the paper into the coffin-shaped board laid across the front of his "go-cart,"

and with trembling lips read the message it contained--these silly creatures did not laugh. They did not even smile, and a joke which Berry attempted, fell flat as a jest made at a funeral.

There is something very aggravating about the tendency of this race to laugh at the wrong time, and to persist in being disconsolate when every one can see that they ought to dance. Generation after generation of these perverse creatures in the good old days of slavery would insist on going in search of the North Pole under the most discouraging circ.u.mstances. On foot and alone, without money or script or food or clothing; without guide or chart or compa.s.s; without arms or friends; in the teeth of the law and of nature, they gave themselves to the night, the frost, and all the dangers that beset their path, only to seek what they did not want!

We know there was never a happier, more contented, light-hearted, and exuberant people on the earth than the Africo-American slave! He had all that man could reasonably desire--and more too! Well-fed, well-clothed, luxuriously housed, protected from disease with watchful care, sharing the delights of an unrivalled climate, relieved of all anxiety as to the future of his off-spring, without fear of want, defiant of poverty, undisturbed by the bickerings of society or heartburnings of politics, regardless of rank or station, wealth, kindred, or descent, it must be admitted that, from an earthly point of view, his estate was as near Elysian as the mind can conceive.

Besides all this, he had the Gospel preached unto him--for nothing; and the law kindly secured him against being misled by false doctrines, by providing that the Bread of Life should never be broken to him unless some reputable Caucasian were present to vouch for its quality and a.s.sume all responsibility as to its genuineness!

That a race thus carefully nourished, protected, and guarded from error as well as evil should be happy, was just as natural as that the sun should shine. That they were happy only lunatics could doubt.

All their masters said so. They even raved when it was denied. The ministers of the Gospel--those grave and reverend men who ministered unto them in holy things, who led their careless souls, blindfolded and trustful, along the straight and narrow way--all declared before high Heaven that they were happy, almost too happy, for their spiritual good. Politicians, and parties, and newspapers; those who lived among them and those who went and learned all about them from the most intelligent and high-toned of their Caucasian fellow-beings--nigh about everybody, in fact--declared, affirmed, and swore that they were at the very utmost verge of human happiness!

Yet even under these circ.u.mstances the perverse creatures _would_ run away. Indeed, to run away seemed to be a characteristic of the race like their black skin and kinkling hair! It would have seemed, to an uninformed on-looker, that they actually desired to escape from the paternal inst.i.tution which had thrown around their lives all these blissful and beatifying circ.u.mstances. But we know it was not so. It was only the inherent perversity of the race!

Again, when the war was ended and they were thrown upon the cold charity of an unfriendly world, naked, poor, nameless, and homeless, without the sheltering and protecting care of that master who had ever before been to them the incarnation of a kindly Providence --at that moment when, by all the rules which govern Caucasian human nature, their eyes should have been red with regretful tears, and their hearts overburdened with sorrow, these addled-pated children of Africa, moved and instigated by the perverse devil of inherent contrariness, were grinning from ear to ear with exasperating exultation, or bowed in still more exasperating devotion, were rendering thanks to G.o.d for the calamity that had befallen them!

So, too, when the best people of the whole South masqueraded for their special benefit, they stupidly or stubbornly failed and refused to reward their "best friends" for the entertainment provided for them, at infinite pains and regardless of expense, even with the poor meed of approving cachinnation. They ought to have been amused; they no doubt were amused; indeed, it is morally impossible that they should not have been amused--but they would not laugh!

Well may the Caucasian of the South say of the ebony brother whom he has so long befriended and striven to amuse: "I have piped unto you, and you have not danced!"

So Eliab read, to a circle whose cheeks were gray with pallor, and whose eyes glanced quickly at each other with affright, these words

"ELIAB HILL AND NIMBUS DESMIT: You've been warned twice, and it hain't done no good. This is your last chance. If you don't git up and git out of here inside of ten days, the buzzards will have a bait that's been right scarce since the war. The white folks is going to rule Horsford, and sa.s.sy n.i.g.g.e.rs must look out. We're not going to have any such San Domingo hole as Red Wing in it, neither.

Now just sell off and pack up and git clear off and out of the country before we come again, which will be just as soon as the moon gits in the left quarter, and has three stars in her lower horn. If you're here then you'll both need coffins, and that boy Berry Lawson that you coaxed away from his employer will hang with you.

"Remember! _Remember!_ REMEMBER!

"By order of the Grand Cyclops of the Den and his two Night Hawks, and in the presence of all the Ghouls, on the fifth night of the sixth Dark Moon!

"K.K.K."

Hardly had he finished reading this when a letter was brought to him which had been found on the porch of the old Ordinary. It was addressed to "MISS MOLLIE AINSLIE, n.i.g.g.e.r Teacher at Red Wing," but as it was indorsed "K.K.K." Eliab felt no compunctions in opening it in her absence. It read:

"MISS AINSLIE: We hain't got no spite against you and don't mean you no harm; but the white folks owns this country, and is going to rule it, and we can't stand no such n.i.g.g.e.r-equality schools as you are running at Red Wing. It's got to stop, and you'd better pick up and go back North where you come from, and that quick, if you want to keep out of trouble. Remember!

"By order of the Grand Cyclops of the Den and his Ghouls, K.K.K."

"P.S. We don't mean to hurt you. We don't make no war on women and children as the Yankees did, but we mean what we say--git out! And don't come back here any more neither!"

The rumor of the mysterious Klan and its terrible doings had been in the air for many months. From other States, and even from adjoining counties, had come to their ears the wail of its victims.

But so preponderating was the colored population of Horsford, and so dependent upon their labor was its prosperity, that they had entertained little fear of its coming among them. Two or three times before, Nimbus and Eliab had received warnings and had even taken some precautions in regard to defense; but they did not consider the matter of sufficient moment to require them to make it public. Indeed, they were inclined to think that as there had been no acts of violence in the county, these warnings were merely the acts of mischievous youngsters who desired to frighten them into a display of fear. This seemed to be a more serious demonstration, but they were not yet prepared to give full credence to the threat conveyed in so fantastic a manner.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION.

"Wal, dey manage to fotch Berry inter it widout sending him a letter all to hissef, alter all," said that worthy, when Eliab, with pale lips, but a firm voice, had finished reading the paper. "Ben done 'spectin' dat, all de time sence I come h'yer, Cousin Nimbus. I'se been a-hearin' 'bout dese Klu Kluckers dis smart while now, ober yer in Pocatel and Hanson counties, an' I 'spected Ma.r.s.e Sykes'd be a-puttin' 'em on ter me jest ez soon as dey got ober here. He hed no idear, yer know, but what I'd hev ter go back an' wuk fer jes what I could git; an sence I hain't he's mad about it, dat's all. What yer gwine ter do 'bout it, Nimbus?"

"I'se gwine ter stay right h'yer an' fight it out, I is," said Nimbus, doggedly. 'I'se fout fer de right ter live in peace on my own lan' once, an' I kin fight for it agin. Ef de Ku Kluckers wants ter try an' whip Nimbus, jes let 'em come on," he said, bringing down his clenched right hand upon the board which was upheld by his left, with such force that it was split from end to end.

"Hi! you take keer dar, Cousin Nimbus," said Berry, hopping out of the way of the falling board with an antic gesture. "Fust you know, yer hurt yer han' actin' dat er way. What YOU gwine ter do 'bout dis yer matter, Uncle 'Liab?" he continued, turning to the preacher.

The man addressed was still gazing on the threatening letter. His left hand wandered over his dark beard, but his face was full of an unwavering light as he replied:

"The Lord called me to my work; He has opened many a door before me and taken me through many trials. He has written, 'I will be with thee alway, even unto the end.' Bless His holy Name! Hitherto, when evil has come I have waited on Him. I may not do a man's part like you, my brother," he continued, laying his hand on Nimbus'

knotted arm and gazing admiringly upon his giant frame," but I can stand and wait, right here, for the Lord's will to be done; and here I will stay--here with my people. Thank the Lord, if I am unable to fight I am also unable to fly. He knew what a poor, weak creature I was, and He has taken care of that. I shall stay, let others do as they may. What are you going to do, Brother Berry? You are in the same danger with Nimbus and me."

"Wal, Bre'er 'Liab," replied Berry," I hab jes 'bout made up MY min'

ter run fer it. Yer see, I'se jes a bit differently sarc.u.mstanced from what either o' you 'uns is. Dar's Nimbus now, he's been in de wah an' knows all 'bout de fightin' business; an' you's a preacher an' knows all der is ob de prayin' trade. But I never was wuth nothin' ob any account at either. It's de feet ez hez allers stood by me," he added, executing a double-shuffle on the plank walk where he stood; "an' I 'llows ter stan' by dem, an' light outen here, afore dem ar Kluckers comes roun' fer an answer ter dat ar letter. Dat's my notion, Bre'er 'Liab."

"Yer don't mean yer gwine ter run away on de 'count ob dese yer Ku Kluckers, does yer, Berry?" said Nimbus, angrily.