“White man or nigger, we are all of the same stock, whatever the philosophers may say to the contrary. I won’t ask where you came from, except you wish to tell us; but perhaps we can help you on your way if you have friends you desire to reach.”
I don’t think the black quite understood the Dominie’s remarks, but he comprehended enough to know that they were dictated by a kind spirit and that he might trust us.
“You no gib up de poor slave to his hard massa?” he said in a whisper, his voice trembling as if he was divulging a secret on which his life depended.
“No, that I’ll not,” said the Dominie; “I don’t hold with those who think they have a right to buy and sell their fellow-creatures, and in my opinion those fellow-creatures are perfectly justified in endeavouring to get away from them, though if I was to say so down east, I might chance to be the victim of ‘Lynch law.’”
The countenance of the negro brightened still more.
“Dis nigger go whar you go, massa,” he said, attempting to rise. His strength, however, was insufficient for the exertion, and he sank back to the ground.
“You are not able to journey yet, and it will take you two or three days to regain your strength,” observed the Dominie; “so we will camp here, boys, and as we are not expected home for a day or two, it will be no great loss to us. We have light enough yet to shoot our suppers, and I heard a turkey ‘gobble’ not far off. You stay by the black man, collect wood for a fire and boughs for a shanty, while I go and try my luck.”
Saying this, our kind-hearted tutor took his rifle and soon disappeared in the forest. We, in the meantime, were too much occupied in obeying his directions to put any further questions to the negro, whose eyes, however, were turned towards us as we moved about. We had soon collected sufficient fuel to last us during the night, and then employed ourselves in cutting down some young trees and lopping off some boughs. While thus engaged we heard two shots. A short time afterwards the Dominie appeared, carrying a turkey in one hand and a small fawn over his shoulder.
“We’ve food here, boys, for ourselves and enough to set the negro on his legs again,” he exclaimed as he approached us. “Well done, I see you haven’t been idle; now kindle the fire while I fix up the shanty. I should like to get our poor friend here under cover as soon as possible, for more reasons than one, and he’ll be the better for a mug of soup.”
The Dominie, among other articles, had carried, I should have said, a small saucepan, which had served to fetch water, boil our tea, and was equally applicable for making a small quantity of soup. While I made up the fire, Dan, having filled the saucepan from the stream, plucked the turkey and cut up a part of it into small pieces. We then put it on to boil. The Dominie in the meantime had flayed the deer and spitted a couple of joints to roast, together with the remainder of the bird. This done, he finished the shanty, into which we lifted the black, and placed him on a bed of small twigs and leaves, a far more comfortable couch than from his appearance we suspected he had enjoyed for a long time. His looks, more than his words, expressed his gratitude, though he continued to murmur—