Page:Fifty Years in Chains, or the Life of an American Slave.djvu/322

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Fifty Years in Chains; or,

Commencing my march this evening soon after nightfall, I traveled until about one o'clock in the morning, as nearly as I could estimate the time by the appearance of the stars, when I came upon a road which, from its width and beaten appearance, seemed to be the road to Morgan County. After traveling for a day or two near this road, I at last found myself at daybreak one morning in sight of the home of my late master's friend, spoken of in our journey to Savannah. I was desperately hungry, and the idea swayed me to throw myself upon his generosity and beg for food.

It seemed to me that this gentleman was too benevolent a man to arrest and send me back to my cruel mistress; and yet how could I expect, or even hope, that a cotton planter would see a runaway slave on his premises, and not cause him to be taken up and sent home? Failing to seize a runaway slave, when he has him in his power, is held to be one of the most dishonorable acts to which a southern planter can subject himself. Nor should the people of the North be surprised at this. Slaves are regarded, in the South, as the most precious of all earthly possessions; and, at the same time, as a precarious and hazardous kind of property, in the enjoyment of which the master is not safe. The planters may well be compared to the inhabitants of a national frontier, which is exposed to the inroads of hostile invading tribes. Where all are