“Before leaving he wrote me a curt note, saying that he would immediately get a warrant for my arrest on a charge of assault and battery.
“That rather staggered me. I wouldn’t have given one inch in fear of that man. No power on earth could have made me run away from him or apologize to him or in any other way flinch from anything he might do to me. But I had a terrifying misconception of the law and its processes. I was only a fifteen-year-old boy, you know, and I knew nothing whatever of legal proceedings; or rather, I knew just enough about them to mislead my mind. I knew that a warrant meant arrest, and as I lay abed worrying that night I convinced myself that if I should be arrested when my father was not in Charleston to furnish bail for me, I must lie in a loathsome jail until his return, forbidden to communicate with anybody and compelled to live on a diet of bread and water.
“I saw no way out except to keep out of reach of that warrant till my father’s return, and the only secure way of doing that, I thought, was to run away and live down here in the woods. So after lying awake all night I got up at daybreak, got one of the servants to give me breakfast and put up a luncheon for me. Then I took a little, flat-bottomed skiff that I owned and made my way down here. I had some money with me, but I did not dare go to any town, or village, or country store, to buy anything lest the man with the warrant should find out where I was. I learned where all the little negro settlements were, however, and there I bought sweet potatoes and the like as I needed them. I had my shotgun and fish lines with me, of course, and so I had no difficulty in feeding myself. For amusement I wandered about in every direction by land and water, and in that way greatly improved my education in coast country geography.
“After a while I found myself running short of ammunition, and I didn’t know how to procure a fresh supply. I was afraid to go to Beaufort, or up to Grahamville, or Coosawhatchie, or anywhere else where there were stores, and besides that I was in no fit condition to go anywhere. I had forgotten to bring any clothes with me and what I had on were worn literally to rags.
“Fortunately I had got acquainted with a negro boy who often brought me vegetables and fruit and sold them to me for low prices. I suppose now that he stole them, although that didn’t occur to me then.
“One day I hit upon the plan of sending him to Beaufort for ammunition. He expressed doubt that anybody there would sell it to him, and I shared the doubt. But it was my only chance, so I gave him some money and sent him. He was gone for two days, during which I fired my last cartridge at a deer and missed him. I had begun to think the negro boy had simply pocketed the money and disappeared, never to return again, but I consoled myself with the thought that there were plenty of fish and oysters to be had, and that I could buy sweet potatoes and vegetables.
“That night the negro boy returned, bringing me rather more ammunition than I had sent for, and when I questioned him about the matter his reply was that that was what the storekeeper had given him for the money. Later, however, he confessed to me that finding nobody willing to sell cartridges to him, he had simply stolen them and, being prepared to bring me the goods I had sent for, he thought the money he had saved in that way justly belonged to him. He had squandered it for candy and in satisfaction of such other desires as possessed him. Of course I paid the merchant afterwards, and equally of course it was impossible to collect the amount from the boy.
“All that is an episode. One day by some chance I encountered Sam in my wanderings, and he told me people were looking for me—that my father had heard of my disappearance and had hurried back to Charleston.
“I went to Beaufort, bought some sort of clothes, and like the other prodigal son, returned to my father. But he utterly failed to play his part according to the story. Instead of falling on my neck, he laughed at the clothes I wore. Instead of killing the fatted calf, he told me to take a bath and put on something fit to wear. All that evening I heard him chuckling under his breath as I related my experiences in answer to his questions. Finally he said to me:
“‘You’ll do, Cal. I’ll never feel uneasy about you again. You know how to take care of yourself.’