University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.

WHATEVER the lagging dragging journey may have
been to the rest of the emigrants, it was a wonder and
delight to the children, a world of enchantment; and they
believed it to be peopled with the mysterious dwarfs and
giants and goblins that figured in the tales the negro slaves
were in the habit of telling them nightly by the shuddering
light of the kitchen fire.

At the end of nearly a week of travel, the party went into
camp near a shabby village which was caving, house by house,
into the hungry Mississippi. The river astonished the children
beyond measure. Its mile-breadth of water seemed an
ocean to them, in the shadowy twilight, and the vague riband
of trees on the further shore, the verge of a continent which
surely none but they had ever seen before.

“Uncle Dan'l” (colored,) aged 40; his wife, “aunt Jinny,”
aged 30, “Young Miss” Emily Hawkins, “Young Mars”
Washington Hawkins and “Young Mars” Clay, the new
member of the family, ranged themselves on a log, after supper,
and contemplated the marvelous river and discussed it.
The moon rose and sailed aloft through a maze of shredded
cloud-wreaths; the sombre river just perceptibly brightened
under the veiled light; a deep silence pervaded the air and
was emphasized, at intervals, rather than broken, by the hooting
of an owl, the baying of a dog, or the muffled crash of a
caving bank in the distance.

The little company assembled on the log were all children,

[ILLUSTRATION]

"CHILDREN, DAH'S SUMFIN' A COMIN'!"

[Description: 499EAF. Page 036. In-line image of a family of slaves on the banks of a river pointing at a steam boat off in the distance.] (at least in simplicity and broad and comprehensive ignorance,)
and the remarks they made about the river were in keeping
with the character; and so awed were they by the grandeur
and the solemnity of the scene before them, and by their
belief that the air was filled with invisible spirits and that the
faint zephyrs were caused by their passing wings, that all
their talk took to itself a tinge of the supernatural, and their
voices were subdued to a low and reverent tone. Suddenly
Uncle Dan'l exclaimed:

“Chil'en, dah's sumfin a comin!”

All crowded close together and every heart beat faster.
Uncle Dan'l pointed down the river with his bony finger.

A deep coughing sound troubled the stillness, way toward
a wooded cape that jutted into the stream a mile distant.
All in an instant a fierce eye of fire shot out from behind the
cape and sent a long brilliant pathway quivering athwart the
dusky water. The coughing grew louder and louder, the
glaring eye grew larger and still larger, glared wilder and

still wilder. A huge shape developed itself out of the
gloom, and from its tall duplicate horns dense volumes of
smoke, starred and spangled with sparks, poured out and
went tumbling away into the farther darkness. Nearer and
nearer the thing came, till its long sides began to glow with
spots of light which mirrored themselves in the river and
attended the monster like a torchlight procession.

“What is it! Oh, what is it, Uncle Dan'l!”

With deep solemnity the answer came:

“It's de Almighty! Git down on yo' knees!”

It was not necessary to say it twice. They were all kneeling,
in a moment. And then while the mysterious coughing
rose stronger and stronger and the threatening glare reached
farther and wider, the negro's voice lifted up its supplications:

“O Lord, we's ben mighty wicked, an' we knows dat we
'zerve to go to de bad place, but good Lord, deah Lord, we
ain't ready yit, we ain't ready—let dese po' chil'en hab one
mo' chance, jes' one mo' chance. Take de ole niggah if you's
got to hab somebody.—Good Lord, good deah Lord, we don't
know whah you's a gwyne to, we don't know who you's got
yo' eye on, but we knows by de way you's a comin', we
knows by de way you's a tiltin' along in yo' charyot o' fiah
dat some po' sinner's a gwyne to ketch it. But good Lord,
dese chil'en don't b'long heah, dey's f'm Obedstown whah dey
don't know nuffin, an' you knows, yo' own sef, dat dey ain't
'sponsible. An' deah Lord, good Lord, it ain't like yo'
mercy, it ain't like yo' pity, it ain't like yo' long-sufferin'
lovin'-kindness for to take dis kind o' 'vantage o' sich little
chil'en as dese is when dey's so many ornery grown folks
chuck full o' cussedness dat wants roastin' down dah. Oh,
Lord, spah de little chil'en, don't tar de little chil'en away
f'm dey frens, jes' let 'em off jes' dis once, and take it out'n
de ole niggah. Heah I is, Lord, heah I is! De ole niggah's
ready, Lord, de ole ——”

The flaming and churning steamer was right abreast the
party, and not twenty steps away. The awful thunder of a

[ILLUSTRATION]

"HEAH I IS, LORD, HEAH I IS!"

[Description: 499EAF. Page 038. In-line image of a family running through the dark woods. The man is carrying two of the children, while the wife and the other kids run behind.] mud-valve suddenly burst forth, drowning the prayer, and
as suddenly Uncle Dan'l snatched a child under each arm
and scoured into the woods with the rest of the pack at his
heels. And then, ashamed of himself, he halted in the deep
darkness and shouted, (but rather feebly:)

“Heah I is, Lord, heah I is!”

There was a moment of throbbing suspense, and then, to
the surprise and the comfort of the party, it was plain that
the august presence had gone by, for its dreadful noises were
receding. Uncle Dan'l headed a cautious reconnoissance in
the direction of the log. Sure enough “the Lord” was
just turning a point a short distance up the river, and while
they looked the lights winked out and the coughing diminished
by degrees and presently ceased altogether.

“H'wsh! Well now dey's some folks says dey ain't no
'ficiency in prah. Dis chile would like to know whah we'd
a ben now if it warn't fo' dat prah? Dat's it. Dat's it!”

“Uncle Dan'l, do you reckon it was the prayer that saved
us?” said Clay.

“Does I reckon? Don't I know it! Whah was yo' eyes?
Warn't de Lord jes' a comin' chow! chow! CHOW! an' a
goin' on turrible—an' do de Lord carry on dat way 'dout
dey's sumfin don't suit him? An' warn't he a lookin' right at
dis gang heah, an' warn't he jes' a reachin' for 'em? An'
d'you spec' he gwyne to let 'em off 'dout somebody ast him
to do it? No indeedy!”

“Do you reckon he saw us, Uncle Dan'l?”

“De law sakes, chile, didn't I see him a lookin' at us?”

“Did you feel scared, Uncle Dan'l?”

“No sah! When a man is 'gaged in prah, he ain't fraid
o' nuffin—dey can't nuffin tetch him.”

“Well what did you run for?”

“Well, I—I—mars Clay, when a man is under de influence
ob de sperit, he do-no what he's 'bout—no sah; dat man
do-no what he's 'bout. You mout take an' tah de head off'n
dat man an' he wouldn't scasely fine it out. Dah's de Hebrew
chil'en dat went frough de fiah; dey was burnt considable—
ob coase dey was; but dey didn't know nuffin 'bout it—heal
right up agin; if dey'd ben gals dey'd missed dey long haah,
(hair,) maybe, but dey wouldn't felt de burn.”

“I don't know but what they were girls. I think they
were.”

“Now mars Clay, you knows bettern dat. Sometimes a
body can't tell whedder you's a sayin' what you means or
whedder you's a sayin' what you don't mean, 'case you says
'em bofe de same way.”

“But how should I know whether they were boys or
girls?”

“Goodness sakes, mars Clay, don't de Good Book say?
'Sides, don't it call 'em de he-brew chil'en? If dey was gals
wouldn't dey be de she-brew chil'en? Some people dat kin
read don't 'pear to take no notice when dey do read.”

“Well, Uncle Dan'l, I think that—— My! here comes
another one up the river! There can't be two!”

“We gone dis time—we done gone dis time, sho'! Dey ain't
two, mars Clay—dat's de same one. De Lord kin 'pear
eberywhah in a second. Goodness, how de fiah and de smoke
do belch up! Dat mean business, honey. He comin' now
like he fo'got sumfin. Come 'long, chil'en, time you's gwyne
to roos'. Go 'long wid you—ole Uncle Daniel gwyne out in
de woods to rastle in prah—de ole nigger gwyne to do what
he kin to sabe you agin.”

He did go to the woods and pray; but he went so far that
he doubted, himself, if the Lord heard him when He went
by.