Octavia, the Octoroon

by J. F. Lee

All necessary arrangements being made, they assembled at the gin house on the night of departure to bid Simon farewell. He parted with his sister with many misgivings, fearing that she might lose her own and the baby's life in this attempt to escape. He bade each man adieu, and Elsie and Octavia an affectionate farewell. He returned home, retired, but there was no sleep for him that night. At times he was almost tempted to pursue the escaping party and bring them back. Without Elsie and the child he was indeed desolate, as he had not a single relation in all that country. Just before day he managed to fall asleep, to be awakened almost immediately by a commotion in the negro quarter, and on inquiring the cause was told that Jim and Jack had run away. He then told his informant that Elsie and Octavia could not be found, and they must have been stolen by the negro men. To allay suspicion he had his horse saddled, blew up his dogs, and was soon ostensibly on the negroes' tracks. He took pains however, to go in a different direction to the one the escaping party went. After making a spurious chase of three or four hours he returned, saying that the negroes had escaped, at the same time making loud lamentations because Elsie and the child had been stolen. It is unnecessary to say that his grief was real.

Let us now follow the fugitives. They traveled only at night, concealing themselves in the day.

The second night out they met some one with a squealing pig on his shoulder. The Northerners, fearing detection, captured the man, who proved to be Brutus, the runaway negro from Colonel R.'s farm. They explained their mission to him, and asked him to go along with them, and if he didn't they would treat him like he was going to treat that stolen pig, which he took out of the pen up the road. Elsie being in the party, he was only too glad to accompany them. He proved to be a valuable acquisition, being used to the woods, detecting any noise with the celerity of a cat. He was also of great assistance in carrying Octavia, considering it a labor and burden of love, and would not relinquish her, only from sheer exhaustion.

All went well with the party, until the fourth night out, when they came to a swollen river, and not a skiff to be found. An axe had been brought along, to use in such a contingency, with which a raft was soon made, and the party on it, and was being rowed over by the negroes, who were three-fourths across, when, by some unaccountable manner, Octavia fell overboard, and would have been drowned if the moon had not been shining, which gave light for Brutus, who had jumped in the river, to see and catch her as she arose, when he swam to the shore with her.

It seemed that fate was against the little child, this being the second time in her brief existence that she had narrowly escaped a watery grave. The day after this accident they came near being detected, but, through the strategy of Brutus, they escaped.

Two more nights brought them in hearing of the opposing armies, and to pass the Confederate sentinels was the "tug of war." They decided, however, to make the attempt, rather than make a circuit of seventy-five miles to flank the Southern lines. On the night the attempt was made it was dark, and all would have been well if Octavia had not cried out when passing the last sentinel. At this the whole party rushed past, the sentinel firing several times into the party, killing Jim and Jack, and wounding Octavia seriously and Elsie slightly. The Northerners and Brutus escaped to the Union army. Elsie and child were carried to the Confederate headquarters and had their wounds examined and dressed. The surgeon said Elsie was all right, but that it would take good nursing and skillful treatment for the child to pull through. But she did, and when able to travel they were put on a horse in charge of a squad of soldiers, with authority to investigate the circumstances of their escape as soon as they reached Colonel R.'s plantation. Henry became alarmed, turned State's evidence against Simon, who, without time to exchange words of greeting with Elsie and the child, was hurried off and put in the county jail, and was succeeded as foreman by Henry, who probably had this in view when he gave Simon away. This was another crushing blow to Simon; this was capping the climax. What, Colonel R.'s handsome and intelligent foreman in jail? This was indeed humiliating! Simon's enemies on the farm were now elated because of his downfall. One ancient son of Ham, who had been lashed severely for his misconduct by Simon, soliloquized thus: "Dey sho' is got dat yaller son of a b—— now; he tink he white, but I'll be goldurn my black skin ef dey doan salt an' tan his yaller hide an' make it look yallerer dan 'tis." Simon could think of no way of getting relief. While he had been faithful to the trust which his master had confided in him, and who might be willing to forgive him, yet he knew his master was powerless to get him out of jail, he being in the conspiracy in abducting his master's slaves, and of feeding and harboring a spy. However, he wrote to his master, making full confession, and begged forgiveness, and asked him if there was any way possible for him to get out of prison. But before the letter reached the front there had been a battle, and Colonel R. had been captured and was a prisoner on Johnson's Island. The letter was returned unopened. He considered his last ray of hope gone, if hope it was, as he was almost certain that his master could afford no relief. He endeavored to compose himself the best he could; he was visited frequently by Elsie and Octavia. She upbraided herself to Simon as being the cause of it all. He asked her not to do that, as he blamed no one but himself. On her first visit he sent a letter to his mistress, giving explicit instructions and information where the treasure was which his master had confided to his keeping. Simon being in jail, she sent and had it brought home, and found every cent as the Colonel had left it.

Elsie kept Simon supplied with papers, books, and such delicacies as the distracted state of the country would admit of.

CHAPTER VI.

MISTAKEN IDENTITY AND ESCAPE FROM BRUIN.