’Oh, yes! the shingles are cut there.  I should think a runaway would be discovered where so many men are at work.’

’No, massa, dar’m places dar whar de ole debil cudn’t fine him, nor de dogs nudder.’

‘I thought the bloodhounds would track a man anywhere.’

‘Not t’ru de water, massa; dey lose de scent in de swamp.’

‘But how can a negro live there,—­how get food?’

’De darkies work dar and dey take ’em nuff.’

’Then the other negroes often know where the runaways are; don’t they sometimes betray them?’

’Neber, massa; a darky neber tells on anoder.  De Cunnel had a boy in dat swamp once, good many years.’

‘Is it possible?  Did he come back?’

‘No, he died dar.  Sum ob de hands found him dead one mornin’ in de hut whar he lib’d, and dey buried him dar.’

‘Why did Sam run away?’

‘’Cause de Oberseer flog him.  He use him bery hard, massa.’

‘What had Sam done?’

‘Nuffin’, massa.’

‘Then why was he flogged?  Did the Colonel know it?’

’Oh, yas; Moye cum de possum ober de Cunnel, and make him b’lieve Sam war bad.  De Cunnel dunno de hull ob dat story.’

‘Why didn’t you tell him?  The Colonel trusts you.’

‘Twudn’t hab dun no good; de Cunnel wud hab flogged me for tellin’ on a wite man.  Nigga’s word ain’t ob no account.’

‘What is the story about Sam?’

‘You won’t tell dat I tole you, massa?’

‘No, but I’ll tell the Colonel the truth.’

‘Wal den, sar, you see Sam’s wife am bery good-lookin’, her skin’s most wite,—­her mudder war a mulatter, her fader a wite man,—­she lub’d Sam ‘bout as well as de wimmin ginrally lub dar husbands,’ (Jim was a bachelor, and his observation of plantation morals had given him but little faith in the sex), ’but most ob ’em, ef dey’m married or no, tink dey must smile on de wite men, so Jule she smiled on de Oberseer,—­so Sam tought,—­and it made him bery jealous.  He war sort o’ sassy, and de Oberseer strung him up and flog him bery hard.  Den Sam took to de swamp, but he didn’t know whar to gwo, and de dogs tracked him; he’d ha’ got ’way dough ef de Oberseer hadn’t shot him; den he cudn’t run.  Den Moye flogged him till he war ’most dead, and arter dat chained him up in de ole cabin and gabe him ‘most nuffin’ to eat.  De Cunnel war gwine to take Sam to Charles’on and sell him, but sumhow he got a file and sawed fru de chain and got ’way in de night to de ‘still.’  When de Oberseer cum dar in de mornin’, Sam jump on him and ’most kill him.  He’d hab sent him whar dar ain’t no niggas ef Junius hadn’t a holed him. I’d a let de ole debil gwo.’

‘Junius, then, is a friend of the Overseer.’

’No, sar; he hain’t no friends, ’cep de debil; but June am a good nigga, and he said ’twarn’t right to kill ole Moye so sudden, for den dar’d be no chance for de Lord forgibin’ him.’