“Dar’s her mammy, sah, who wouldn’t go. An’ ’Rasmus an’ Mingo an’ Simon.... Plantation beg Miss Désirée to come away, too, but she say ‘No,’ we go, but she’s got er responsibility—an’ she doubt ef de river come anyway. Yes, sah. She say she got her post, but dat hit’s all right for us to go, de meal givin’ out an’ all. An’ she say she certain’y is fond of us, every one, an’ she come down de great house porch steps an’ shake hands all round—” He took the slip of paper and wrapped it carefully in the bandanna, “When de war’s over I’se gwine right back.”
Edward spoke to the older man. “How real is the danger?”
“Of the river coverin’ Cape Jessamine, sah? Well, they’ve cut a powerful heap of levees. It’s lak this.” He rested on his oars and demonstrated with his hands. “Cape Jessamine’s got water mos’ all around it anyhow. It comes suckin’ in back here, suckin’ and underminin’. The Mississippi’s er powerful, big sapper an’ miner—the biggest kind of er one! It might be workin’ in the cellar like under Cape Jessamine this very minute. And then ergain it might not. Ain’ nobody kin really tell. Though nowadays it’s surely lucky to expect the worst. Yes, sah, the Mississippi’s er bigger sapper an’ miner than any they’ve got in the army!”
They went on, by the dense woodland, beneath the low sun. A cypress swamp ran back for miles. In this hour the vast, knotted knees, dimly seen, innumerable, covering all the earth, appeared like sleeping herds of an ancient monster. The wash of the water was like the breathing of such a host. All the country here was very low, and over it there began to be drawn a purple veil. It was as still as a dream. The boat passed between two islets covered with a white flower, and came into sight of a point of land.
“Cape Jessamine!” said the young negro.
It lay painfully fair, an emerald breadth with groups of trees, seen through the veil like a fading dream which the mind tries to hold, and tries in vain, it is so fair! There was magic in the atmosphere; to look down the river was to look upon a vision. Edward looked, bent forward, his eyes steady and wide.
“Row fast!” he said in his friendly voice. “I want to go back now.”
They rowed fast, by monstrous white cypresses, under boughs hung with motionless banners of moss, by fallen trees, decaying logs, grotesquely twisted roots. The boat kept in the shadow, but the light was on Cape Jessamine. Presently they could see the lofty pillars of the house, half veiled in foliage, half bare to the sinking sun. They were now not half a mile away. The distance lessened....
They were skirting a muddy shore, rowing amid a wild disorder of stumps that rose clear from the water, of dead and fallen trees, dead and far-flung vines. There came to the boat a slight rising and falling motion.
“What’s dat?” said the young negro.