His black bushy beard, his leggings, and buckskin shirt, his red neckcloth and raccoon cap—but above all, the brutal ferocity of his visage, left me in no doubt as to who this character was. The description of the runaway answered him in every particular. He could be no other than Ruffin the man-hunter!
Chapter Seventy Four.
Shot for Shot.
Yes, the individual who now advanced was Ruffin the man-hunter; and the dogs I had killed, were his—a brace of sleuth-hounds, well-known in the settlement as being specially trained to tracking the unfortunate blacks, that, driven by cruel treatment, had taken to the woods.
Well-known, too, was their master—a dissipated brutal fellow, half hunter, half hog-thief, who dwelt in the woods like an Indian savage, and hired himself out to such of the planters as needed the aid of him and his horrid hounds!
As I have said, I had never seen this individual, though I had heard of him often—from Scipio, from the boy Caton, and, lastly, from Gabriel. The Bambarra had described him minutely—had told me wild stories of the man’s wickedness and ferocious cruelty—how he had taken the lives of several runaways while in pursuit of them, and caused others to be torn and mangled by his savage dogs!
He was the terror and aversion of every negro quarter along the coast; and his name—appropriate to his character—oft served the sable mother as a “bogey” to frighten her squalling piccaninny into silence!
Such was Ruffin the man-hunter, as he was known among the black helots of the plantations. The “cobbing-board” and the red cowhide were not half so terrible as he. In comparison with him, such characters as “Bully Bill,” the flogging overseer, might be esteemed mild and humane.