Page:Journal of Negro History, vol. 7.djvu/124

108 Finally, one night I said to him: "This is the third and last time I shall tell you I want to go to school. You hindered me for years by telling me that I would be travelling in your tears. That will not answer any longer." When he saw that the blaze had never died out he said: "My son, these may be right thoughts that have come to your mind and their power may lead you to a good end, yet they may be the ruin of you. I would rather follow you to your grave than see you captured and brought back to be punished by these hateful laws they have on these plantations. God will change things after a time and then it may be you can go to school in safety." I saw then that my poor father wanted me to go to school but was afraid I would be punished if I did, as he had known others to do. I said I was going to risk it anyway. As the appointed time drew near he was very sorrowful. Never shall I forget the night of parting. After he had pronounced a benedirection upon me he said: "May you ever be happy."

I had really started upon my journey. I had a sack of gingerbread which I did not want to bother with but that my dear sisters persuaded me to carry with me. When daylight appeared I knew it would not be safe to keep the road so I planned out a road of my own. When I came to the spring into which Ponce de Leon had plunged to regain his lost youth I sat down and ate all the bread I could and left the rest. How often afterwards I wished for it!

Not long after I left Ponce de Leon spring I heard the plantation dogs coming after me. "What shall I do now?" was the question. When they had nearly reached me I hid behind a tree and then dashed off as if I saw game ahead. They soon recognized me and became my fast friends.

We slept in the same bed under the same guardian stars. Every night I would thank God for their voiceless sympathy. I shared my meals with them. When I bought crackers I would eat but a few of them and give the rest to my dumb companions. But I saw at last that I must get rid of the poor creatures somehow, although the thought almost broke my heart. When I reached the Mississippi I lashed two logs together and sent my companions out hunting. Then I sailed away on the raft I had made across the Father of Waters. When they returned I looked back and saw them running alongside of the river where they could see me, willing to die with me. I broke down in tears and could not look back any more, because I would have gone back and died with them.