With Axe and Rifle

by William Henry Giles Kingston

My uncle’s appearance, however, showed that he had gone through a severe illness. He was still too weak to walk without assistance, but his indomitable spirit, my father observed, had done much to keep him up; our coming also was of great assistance, as my mother was able to nurse him more carefully than were his usual black attendants. We remained with him for several days, at the end of which time he was able to mount his horse and take a gallop with my father in the early morning. Uncle Denis was one of the kindest-hearted men I ever met, and generally one of the merriest; but a shade of melancholy came over him occasionally. It was when he thought of Uncle Michael, or of that “dear fellow, Mike,” as he used to say. He believed himself to have been in the wrong, and to have been the cause of his brother’s leaving him, without taking an opportunity of acknowledging that such was the case, and asking for his forgiveness.

My father and mother of course described to Uncle Denis the narrow escape we had had in crossing the river, and the somewhat doubtful style of hospitality with which we had been received by Mr Bracher.

“He knows you, Denis,” said my father.

“And I know him,” answered my uncle; “a more surly curmudgeon does not exist in these parts, or a harder master to his slaves. He is a man people wish to stand well with, not because they love him, but because they fear his vengeance should they offend him. I make a point of keeping out of his way, for fear that he should pick a quarrel with me, though he pretends to be friendly enough when we meet. The slaves hate him, as well they may, but the lash keeps them in order, and he has a set of fellows about him of his own kidney, who serve him because no one else would willingly employ them.”

This no very flattering account of our late host made my father determine not to pay him another visit, if he could help it, on our return.

“I’ll follow your example and keep out of his way,” observed my father, “though I should have been glad to make another attempt to purchase his slave Dio, for the sake of getting the brave fellow out of his power.”

“The more desirous you appear to obtain the slave the less likely will he be to part with him, so I would advise you not to allude again to the subject,” said my uncle. “I’ll keep an eye on his proceedings, and, should he at any time suffer losses and be obliged to sell up, I’ll take means to buy Dio, not letting his master know that you want to become his owner.”

With this arrangement my father was obliged to rest satisfied, as he saw that there was no other chance of getting Dio out of the power of his tyrannical master.

A few days after this conversation Uncle Denis was so far recovered, that my father announced his intention of returning home.

“Stay a few days longer; don’t think of going yet,” answered Uncle Denis; “it seems but yesterday that you came, and I shall feel more lonely than ever when you are gone; besides, you haven’t seen the great wonder of our part of the country, nor have I forsooth, and I should like to pay it a visit with you.”