University of Virginia Library


121

BAYLOR'S MAIL


122

[_]

Before and during the war, and perhaps afterwards, the negroes on the Southern plantations had in use a complete system of intercommunication by means of which all kinds of intelligence could be transmitted from point to point with amazing rapidity. When Sherman swung loose from Atlanta for his march across Georgia, the fact became known to all the negroes on a plantation in middle Georgia—and to one white person—within the course of twelve hours. In India, where the same system prevails, the results have been attributed to occult influences. It prevails also among the African tribes, and was introduced on the Southern plantations (as far as I can learn) by a negro named Qua, who died in Augusta, Ga., in the thirties at an extreme old age. Qua had a grandson who was nearly grown in 1800. The African name of this grandson was M'Bulu, pronounced M'Booloo, which was corrupted into Baylor. The system of intercommunication was known among the older negroes as M'Bulu Irruwandu—literally, Baylor's waist-cloth, or breech clout—the means by which a signal, or a series of signals, is given in Africa. But it may be made to mean the song, the holla, or any other method by means of which intelligence is transmitted. This information is as scanty as it is unimportant, but such as it is, it is the result of an investigation covering forty years.


123

Run, little Brothers, run!
Yo' journey's des begun,
An' many a long mile stretches
Fum settin' ter risin' sun;
An it's whack! ef de patroller ketches,
An' it's whoop when yo' journey's done!
It's fun fer de one dat fetches,
Fer de one dat carries, none!
Oh, run in de bushes, Brothers!
Down de long corn-furrers run!
Run in de heat what smothers,
In de Frost what grips you, mon!

124

It's Way-o! fer de hills what beckon,
Wy-o! fer de low-groun's wide!
You er movin' now, I reckon,
When you rock fum side ter side!
Run, little Brothers, run!
'Twix' settin' an' risin' Sun;
Watch out fer dem what foller
Wid track-dogs an' wid gun;
Break thoo de swampy holler—
Yo' journey will soon be done!—
Pas' de place whar de wil'-hogs waller—
De race is mighty nigh won!
An' it's out whar de hills is rollin',
Whar de Road an' de Runner is one—
De time is come fer polin'—
Run, little Brothers, run!

125

Across de fur-lyin' stretches
What hol' de breff er de Sun;
It's meat fer de man what fetches,
Fer de man what carries, none!
Run, little Brothers, run!
Time passes might'ly, mon;
No time fer cabin tattle
When de Way an' de Wisher is one;
No time fer ter count de cattle,
Er ter see ef dey brindle er dun;
Des make de bushes rattle
When you break fum trot ter run!
No dodgin' de water what splashes—
It's a part er de frolic an' fun
When you skip thoo de slues an' slashes—
Run, little Brothers, run!

126

You'll wade de shoalin' river,
Kaze de road is de place ter shun.
An' you'll hear de squinch-owl shiver,
An' de bull-frog say, “Done-done!”
You'll hear de tied dog howlin'
Kaze he wanter warm by de Sun,
An' you'll see Mr. Weasel prowlin',
A-huntin' fer de wood-rat's run:
You'll see de tad-pole ketchers
A-passin' one by one—
But, toters all, an' fetchers,
Dey ain't much time fer fun!
Run, little Brothers, run!
Fer now is de time er none,
An' de san' is needin' siftin'
By de feet er yo' daddy's son!

127

An' de Milky-way is shiftin'
Ter whar it kin see de Sun,
An' de night is sholy liftin'—
Run, little Brothers, run!
De east is showin' yellow,
An' de stars go one by one;
But de hills will take yo' Hello
Whar de mornin' streamers is spun,
An' make it saft an' mellow
(Run, little Brothers. run!)
Time it gits ter de yuther fellow,
An' den yo' journey's done!