The day came and capitalists from all over the South poured into the city to bid on the lot of convicts. A syndicate that operated turpentine forests in Florida was the highest bidder and the convicts were turned over to it. They were marched down to the train and crowded into cattle cars and borne into the swamps of the turpentine establishments. They were put in charge of white bosses, who had been selected because of their known cruelty, on the hypothesis that it took such characters to keep in subjection a colony of Negro convicts.
Necessarily a series of hardships followed, but amid all, John was happy, for he was not in Africa and was in the same land with Erma. Notwithstanding Lanier's prohibition, he intended seeing his sister again, feeling assured that it could not possibly result in any harm to any of the parties concerned. Sustained by this hope he witnessed and endured all manner of hardships. He saw women of his race forced to labor side by side with men hardened in crime. With these same hardened criminals the small boys and girls, present in the convict camp for their first offenses, had to labor. The Negro women were sometimes the victims of outrages committed by their white bosses. Illegitimate offsprings born in prison were taken possession of and doomed to perpetual slavery.
Men, women and children slept together like a herd of cattle, as many as sixty being crowded into a room eighteen feet square, with a ceiling seven feet high, there being no ventilation whatever. After hard days' work the convicts had to cook their own food, fat bacon and corn bread, on small fires made on the ground. A downpour of rain would not induce the bosses to allow the convicts to quit work and seek shelter. Slight offenses were punished by brutal whippings; and one aged Negro, in the prison for stealing food for a starving family, was beaten until he died; beaten because he expressed an opinion as to the decency of the conduct of one white boss toward a Negro woman, his niece, in the penitentiary as accessory to his crime.
Whenever showers of rain drenched the entire lot of convicts they did not have changing garments, but had to wear and even sleep in their wet clothing until they dried upon them. When the few small houses were filled to their utmost capacities, a tent was spread and all fresh comers were assigned to sleep beneath this on the bare ground. If some convict, more adroit than his fellows, made his escape, the bloodhounds would soon be on his trail and ere long would have their fangs buried in his quivering flesh.
Filth abounded on every hand, vermin covered everything in the convict quarters, and sanitation was a thing unheard of. Disease walked boldly into their midst and bade Death mow down with his scythe twenty out of each hundred, this being the proportion of those who died.[1] Consumption took up its abode in John's bosom and began to eat away his life. John dwelt amid all these sickening, these blood-curdling horrors with death gnawing at his own vitals. But through it all, a smile of joy was ever upon his face, hope was alive within his bosom. The thought that he might one day see Erma again was his sun that beat back the shades of eternal night that were seeking to engulf the vital spark left within him. How incomplete would have been the soul of man, how powerless to cope with this mysterious thing which we call life, were it not that its soil is never impervious to the growth of that fragrant flower, which sends pleasing odors even into the nostrils of the dying, Hope! immortal Hope!
CHAPTER XXIII.
FULL OF JOY.
Astral's school life is now over, and he is homeward bound. During all the years of his separation from Erma he has stifled with great effort the cry of his heart to make a bold declaration of love to her. But now the courage of desperation seizes him and he has made a solemn vow to declare his passion immediately upon his arrival at Richmond. The train that bore him on to Richmond, Astral was ready to swear before a notary public, was no faster than the slimy animal known as the snail. He grew to hate the brakeman who persisted in calling the name of every station save Richmond. Having once resolved upon making his declaration and ascertaining his fate, any person that would have suggested that patience ever possessed a virtue would have been in danger of incarceration in the insane asylum, if Astral's ardent wish could have accomplished that result. The train reaches Richmond at last. As soon as properly attired, he proceeds toward Erma's home, having given her due notice of his coming to see her.
Since the day of the intended hanging of her brother John, Erma has lived continuously at her own little home. Aunt Mollie Marston, who has now lost her husband, dwells there with her, and Erma has taken the place in her heart left vacant by Margaret's dropping out. Erma has told Mrs. Marston the secret of her love and informed her of Astral's intended visit. The dear old soul has done her best at dressing Erma for this occasion, and has retired to a back room to pray, while Erma sits in her cosy little parlor to receive Astral. For a while she indulges in a reverie, her mind going back over her past life. The thoughts are too sombre, however, and she dismisses them.