The Kidnapped And The Ransomed Part 33

When all was still throughout the quarter--and it seemed that night as though some of the people never would go to bed," the little family went out into the night. Vina locked the door, and gave the key to a young girl named Susanna, desiring her to go in and Prepare supper for them the next evening.

The mother and her children walked away in silence, and at first with stealthy steps. Their hearts quaked with fear, but they had gone too far to recede. Choking down the sobs that strove to break the midnight silence, they pressed each other's hands to renew their courage, and hastened on.

The clear sky hovered lovingly over the trembling fugitives, the stars, all silent, shone upon their pathway; but they saw neither sky nor stars, one faint dim hope beamed on them from afar, but the thick clouds of terror often obscured its light.

With timid steps they approached the river, and walking along the bank, they soon descried the skiff. Levin whistled. No answer.

Could it be that Concklin had disappointed them?

They turned and walked down the stream thinking perhaps he had gone in search of them. "Thar!" said the mother, "this yer jaunt's a gwine to turn out bad, for n.o.body has good luck when they turns back after started on a long journey." Failing to perceive the object of their search in this direction, they returned to the skiff, and stooping down, saw Concklin lying fast asleep in the bottom. He had waited for them till he was weary, and Levin's timid whistle had failed to waken him from his first sound slumber.

It was now nearly three o'clock, and entering the skiff, they hastened off. The two boys, as well as Conklin, knew how to use the oars with skill and power, and they fairly flew over the water.

At daylight they pa.s.sed Eastport, distant about forty miles from Bainbridge Landing. Just below that town they met a steamboat, but by the direction of a kind Providence, she kept on the south side of a small island in the river, while Concklin guided his skiff towards the north bank, and thus they escaped the notice of the crew. Upon that boat was Mr. McKiernan, then on his return from Louisiana; and had the skiff been noticed, he might easily have recognized the two boys, who were both at the oars.

"During Sunday," wrote Concklin to a friend, "we were hailed once by half a dozen men on sh.o.r.e, to know where we were from, where going,&c. There being a strong head-wind, I appeared as if I could not hear them. I know not what they would have done if they had had a good skiff. Several parties of men gazed at us along the river. I had previously informed myself of the scarcity of good skiffs on the Tennessee river, on which thing alone rested a part of my safety. I stood at the helm whenever we were in sight of anybody, keeping Levin and Peter at the oars. At all other times, and during the nights, I was princ.i.p.ally at the oars. In the daytime I caused Vina and Catharine to lie under the blankets, so as not to be seen. They had a hard time of it. Having a strong head-wind, the water dashed into the boat, so as to keep the blankets all the time wet. Peter and Levin got sleepy Sunday evening, and were so by times all the way through.

"At five o'clock, Monday evening, for the first time, I lay down under a blanket, when the boys said two men were calling to us in a skiff near the sh.o.r.e, and coming towards us. I ordered that no effort should be made to run. The two men came alongside, eagerly demanding where they were going, and 'whar from? Are you all black men a'board?' My boys replied in Southern phrase, 'White Ma.s.sa lyin' thar, sir.['] When I arose on my knees, partly throwing off my blanket, and staring my a.s.sailants in the face, they bowed, with 'How de do, sir.' I returned the compliment. They demanded where I was going, and from whence I came. I dignifiedly replied, 'To Paducah, and from Eastport.' They bowed, gave my boat a scrutinizing look, and retired.

"During Monday night a squall of wind came near das.h.i.+ng our craft to pieces against the large trees, but by good management I succeeded in getting between the trees to the sh.o.r.e, and there remained one hour before we could start. Arrived on the Ohio at sunrise Tuesday morning--fifty-one hours time. It should have been done,-- under favorable circ.u.mstances in thirty-six hours. The current of the Tennessee is very stiff. On the Ohio I intended to travel exclusively at nights. Circ.u.mstances were against me, and I was compelled to travel as much by day as by night. One half of two nights it was so dark, that I could not navigate. My crew murmured in consequence of the hards.h.i.+ps. They did not seem to understand that they were to work for themselves and for their lives. I had no fair wind from the time I started till I arrived at Harmony. It would be impossible to describe the difficulties I have encountered."

At ten o'clock on Sunday morning March 23d, they landed at New Harmony, Ia. Seven days they had rowed in that frail skiff, exposed each moment to the danger of discovery and seizure by some one of Slavery's numerous spies. Seven nights had chilled their limbs, and well nigh exhausted their energies, both of mind and body, for except the mother, they were all unused to patient labors. Theirs had been years of toil without an object, and they were at this time scarcely capable of self-imposed endurance of fatigue.

Now, although their feet pressed the soil of a Free State, their perils were not pa.s.sed, and they pursued their way on foot towards the North with anxious hearts.

Concklin, who had a.s.sumed the name of Miller, had doffed the shabby garb which he had worn before, and now appeared neatly and comfortably clad. The boys wore pants of Kentucky jean and black cloth coats, while Vina and her daughter in their plaid shawls and comfortable hoods would scarcely have been recognized, even by those who had often seen them at their labor, as field hands from McKiernan's place.

All day they travelled on the public road; and though they "met a heap of people," they were not questioned. There was nothing, indeed, in their appearance to excite remark, except that they were dark in hue and journeying towards the North. At night they reached the house of a friend, where they were received most kindly. A bountiful supper was quickly prepared for them, and they soon lay down to peaceful slumbers. All the next day, too, they rested, for in their future journeyings, it was deemed wisest to accept the friendly guidance of the stars.

After supper on Monday night came another friend to carry them northward to his home. He brought two horses which the women rode; while himself and Concklin, with the two re-animated brothers, walked beside them. At three o'clock on Tuesday morning they reached their second resting place, where they remained till Wednesday night. They then resumed their journey, and travelled all night on foot. Cheerfully they walked along, for every hour their hope became stronger as their old master's success in overtaking them grew more and more improbable. At late breakfast time on Thursday they reached another station, where they rested till Friday morning. They were then so far from the river that Concklin thought they might venture to travel in the day-time, so he proposed to continue their journey. But Vina had awaked that morning with a burdened spirit. She "had bad dreams all night," and she feared to start by daylight. "'Pears like," said she, "something will happen if we starts to-day. You can do as you likes, sir, but if I was you, I'd put off this yer jaunt till night. 'Pears like 'taint safe, no how." But Concklin was naturally hopeful and bold, and the presentiments of the ignorant slave woman he regarded as mere idle superst.i.tion. They were so nearly out of danger, that he felt extremely anxious to push on.

Vina started with reluctance. The kind friend at whose house they were, lent her a horse for a few miles, and sent his son to ride the animal back. Soon the rain began to fall, and all day long "it rained constant." All day, too, they journeyed on, for they dared not stop where they were not sure of finding friends.

Late in the afternoon, as with dripping umbrellas and weary feet they walked along, a spotted horse which had escaped from a field by the road side, came galloping before them. His owner called upon the travellers to stop him, but Vina, in a low tone, bade the boys go on. Peter, however, naturally obliging, caught the horse, and delivered him to his owner. A little further on they pa.s.sed a saw-mill, in front of which a large man stood gazing at the little company. "How d'y', Aunt Lucy," cried he, "which way are, you travelling?" No answer was given as they hastened on, but their hearts beat quick with fear.

Just before night they approached the dwelling of the friend where they were next to rest. His son lived in a small house close, by, and here Concklin bade them "run in out of the rain," while he went on to the main station to announce their coming.

They obeyed, and soon they were all seated beside a cheerful fire.

The bright blaze imparted new life to their chilled and weary limbs; and from their hearts ascended a silent thanksgiving to Him who had brought them safely to the end of this day's journey,--when suddenly the sound of many horses' feet was heard.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

THE CAPTURE.

ONE glance at the window sent a shudder through the little party--for there, halting at the gate, were seven men on horseback.

"They done come after us;" hoa.r.s.ely whispered one of the boys.

"Yes," answered their mother, "I'll lay anything we're gwine to be tooken now."

The men dismounted and tied their horses to the fence. Foremost was the owner of the spotted horse, upon the very animal which Peter had delivered into his hand, and next was he who had accosted "Aunt Lucy" but an hour or two before.

What to do the helpless creatures did not know. Concklin was away. Oh! why did he leave them? The house was small, and the only place of egress they could discover was the door by which they had just entered, and this their foes were even then approaching. They saw no place to hide, and the young man and woman, whose house they had so recently entered, stood petrified with amazement, and gazed upon the scene.

The seven men entered the little dwelling. Three or four of them remained near the door, while the others advanced into the middle of the room and opened a conversation with the boys. The heart beat wildly beneath each dark-hued breast, but they strove to look indifferent while they replied to the questioners as they had been previously instructed.

"Where are you going?"

"To Springfield, Sir."

"Do you belong to the man that brought you here?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Where did you come from?"

"From Kaintucky, Sir. Ma.s.s'r died last year, and left us to his brother, and now he's a takin' us on to his farm."

"What did he bring you through here for? Did n't he know that it was against the law?"

"Don't know, Sir, reckon he 'lowed 'twas right."

"I'll be d--d if I don't believe he stole you all."

The brave seven then stood aside and consulted for a few minutes, and then one of their number went out. Soon he returned with a half-gallon jug of liquor, and a wagon. The besieging party then took a drink all round to raise their courage. They offered, too, to treat Levin and Peter, but the boys declined the honor.

Another brief consultation was held, and then, producing ropes, these zealous priests of the Moloch of Slavery, proceeded to bind their victims for the sacrifice. How the boys longed to resist !--but they were all unarmed, while their a.s.sailants carried both bowie-knives and pistols. Besides, their host, who stood silent by, would, for aught they knew, join with their enemies against them.

It would be idle to attempt to fight against such fearful odds; so they stood still while their hands were tied behind them, and then, obeying the orders of the foreman of the band, they climbed into the wagon.

The women followed in silence. Despair was written on their faces, but their captors had no pity for their helpless woe. The coa.r.s.e jest, and the blasphemous oath went round, while now and then a burst of boisterous laughter came from the "law-abiding"

band that guarded their return towards the "land of chivalry."

When they had proceeded a short distance, Concklin came running after them. Oh! that he had never left them! then had they been safe. He sprang into the wagon, and commenced untying the captives. But he was soon discovered by the ruffians in attendance, who, pointing their pistols at his head, swore that they would blow out his brains if he did not desist.

He remained in the wagon, however, until they reached the jail at Vincennes. It was very late. The lights were extinguished in all the houses, and the jailor was asleep. "Ho! Hallo!" cried the leader of the band.

The jailor at length appeared.

"Do you want some more stock ?"

"I don't know; that depends on what sort it is."

"Well, its a sort you've not had here lately. Take them in; they're tired, and want to go to bed."

The jailor held up his light and took a survey of the captives.

"Well," said he, "if they're tired, I don't think they're sleepy; say, are you sleepy, old woman?"

"No, Sir," replied Vina, "I don't feel like sleepin'."