University of Virginia Library

8. CHAPTER VIII.
THE WARNING.

In life organized as it is at the South, there are two currents;
— one, the current of the master's fortunes, feelings,
and hopes; the other, that of the slave's. It is a melancholy
fact in the history of the human race, as yet, that
there have been multitudes who follow the triumphal march
of life only as captives, to whom the voice of the trumpet,
the waving of the banners, the shouts of the people, only
add to the bitterness of enthralment.

While life to Nina was daily unfolding in brighter colors,
the slave-brother at her side was destined to feel an additional
burden on his already unhappy lot.

It was toward evening, after having completed his daily
cares, that he went to the post-office for the family letters.
Among these, one was directed to himself, and he slowly
perused it as he rode home through the woods. It was as
follows:

It is difficult to fathom the feelings of a person brought
up in a position so wholly unnatural as that of Harry. The
feelings which had been cultivated in him by education, and
the indulgence of his nominal possessors, were those of an
honorable and gentlemanly man. His position was absolutely
that of the common slave, without one legal claim to
anything on earth, one legal right of protection in any
relation of life. What any man of strong nature would
feel on hearing such tidings from a sister, Harry felt.

In a moment there rose up before his mind the picture of
Nina in all her happiness and buoyancy — in all the fortunate
accessories in her lot. Had the vague thoughts which
crowded on his mind been expressed in words, they might
have been something like these:

“I have two sisters, daughters of one father, both beautiful,
both amiable and good; but one has rank, and position,
and wealth, and ease, and pleasure; the other is an
outcast, unprotected, given up to the brutal violence of a
vile and wicked man. She has been a good wife, and a
good mother. Her husband has done all he could to save
her; but the cruel hand of the law grasps her and her children,
and hurls them back into the abyss from which it was

his life-study to raise them. And I can do nothing! I am
not even a man! And this curse is on me, and on my wife,
and on my children and children's children, forever! Yes,
what does the judge say, in this letter? `He can no more
own anything than the mule before his plough!' That 's
to be the fate of every child of mine! And yet people say,
`You have all you want; why are you not happy?' I wish
they could try it! Do they think broadcloth coats and gold
watches can comfort a man for all this?”

Harry rode along, with his hands clenched upon the letter,
the reins drooping from the horse's neck, in the same unfrequented
path where he had twice before met Dred. Looking
up, he saw him the third time, standing silently, as if he
had risen from the ground.

“Where did you come from?” said he. “Seems to me
you are always at hand when anything is going against
me!”

“Went not my spirit with thee?” said Dred. “Have I
not seen it all? It is because we will bear this, that we
have it to bear, Harry.”

“But,” said Harry, “what can we do?”

“Do? What does the wild horse do? Launch out our
hoofs! rear up, and come down on them! What does the
rattlesnake do? Lie in their path, and bite! Why did
they make slaves of us? They tried the wild Indians first.
Why did n't they keep to them? They would n't be slaves,
and we will! They that will bear the yoke, may bear it!”

“But,” said Harry, “Dred, this is all utterly hopeless.
Without any means, or combination, or leaders, we should
only rush on to our own destruction.”

“Let us die, then!” said Dred. “What if we do die?
What great matter is that? If they bruise our head, we
can sting their heels! Nat Turner — they killed him; but
the fear of him almost drove them to set free their slaves!
Yes, it was argued among them. They came within two or
three votes of it in their assembly. A little more fear, and
they would have done it. If my father had succeeded, the

slaves in Carolina would be free to-day. Die? — Why not
die? Christ was crucified! Has everything dropped out
of you, that you can't die — that you 'll crawl like worms,
for the sake of living?”

“I 'm not afraid of death, myself,” said Harry. “God
knows I would n't care if I did die; but —”

“Yes, I know,” said Dred. “She that letteth will let,
till she be taken out of the way. I tell you, Harry, there 's
a seal been loosed — there 's a vial poured out on the air;
and the destroying angel standeth over Jerusalem, with his
sword drawn!”

“What do you mean by that?” said Harry.

Dred stood silent, for a moment; his frame assumed the
rigid tension of a cataleptic state, and his voice sounded
like that of a person speaking from a distance, yet there
was a strange distinctness in it.

“The words of the prophet, and the vision that he hath
from the Lord, when he saw the vision, falling into a trance,
and having his eyes open, and behold he saw a roll
flying through the heavens, and it was written, within and
without, with mourning and lamentation and woe! Behold,
it cometh! Behold, the slain of the Lord shall be many!
They shall fall in the house and by the way! The bride
shall fall in her chamber, and the child shall die in its
cradle! There shall be a cry in the land of Egypt, for
there shall not be a house where there is not one dead!”

“Dred! Dred! Dred!” said Harry, pushing him by
the shoulder; “come out of this — come out! It 's frightful!”

Dred stood looking before him, with his head inclined
forward, his hand upraised, and his eyes strained, with the
air of one who is trying to make out something through a
thick fog.

“I see her!” he said. “Who is that by her? His back
is turned. Ah! I see — it is he! And there 's Harry and
Milly! Try hard — try! You won't do it. No, no use
sending for the doctor. There 's not one to be had. They

are all too busy. Rub her hands! Yes. But — it 's no
good. `Whom the Lord loveth, he taketh away from the
evil to come.' Lay her down. Yes, it is Death! Death!
Death!”

Harry had often seen the strange moods of Dred, and he
shuddered now, because he partook somewhat in the common
superstitions, which prevailed among the slaves, of his
prophetic power. He shook and called him; but he turned
slowly away, and, with eyes that seemed to see nothing,
yet guiding himself with his usual dextrous agility, he
plunged again into the thickness of the swamp, and was
soon lost to view.

After his return home it was with the sensation of chill
at his heart that he heard Aunt Nesbit reading to Nina
portions of a letter, describing the march through some
Northern cities of the cholera, which was then making
fearful havoc on our American shore.

“Nobody seems to know how to manage it,” the letter
said; “physicians are all at a loss. It seems to spurn all
laws. It bursts upon cities like a thunderbolt, scatters
desolation and death, and is gone with equal rapidity.
People rise in the morning well, and are buried before evening.
In one day houses are swept of a whole family.”

“Ah,” said Harry, to himself, “I see the meaning now,
but what does it portend to us?”

How the strange foreshadowing had risen to the mind
of Dred, we shall not say. Whether there be mysterious
electric sympathies which, floating through the air, bear
dim presentiments, on their wings, or whether some stray
piece of intelligence had dropped on his ear, and been interpreted
by the burning fervor of his soul, we know not.
The news, however, left very little immediate impression
on the daily circle at Canema. It was a dread reality in the
far distance. Harry only pondered it with anxious fear.