Ha! ha! Dey lose good nigga--good hand in de cotton-feel--
good hand among de cane. Ha! ha!"

The hoarse laugh with which the "runaway" expressed his satisfaction
sounded strangely on my ear.

"And you have run away from the plantation?"

"Jes so, mass' Edward--nebber go back." After a pause, he added, with
increased emphasis, "_Nebber go back 'live_!"

As he uttered these words he raised his hand to his broad chest, at the
same time throwing his body into an attitude of earnest determination.

I saw at once that I had mistaken the character of this man. I had had
it from his enemies, the whites, who feared him. With all the ferocity
of expression that characterised his features, there was evidently
something noble in his heart. He had been flogged for refusing to flog
a fellow-slave. He had resented the punishment, and struck down his
brutal oppressor. By so doing he had risked a far more terrible
punishment--even life itself!

It required courage to do all this. A spirit of liberty alone could
have inspired him with that courage--the same spirit which impelled the
Swiss patriot to strike down the cap of Gessler.

As the negro stood with his thick muscular fingers spread over his
brawny chest, with form erect, with head thrown back, and eyes fixed in
stern resolve, I was impressed with an air of grandeur about him, and
could not help thinking that in the black form before me, scantily clad
in coarse cotton, there was the soul and spirit of a man!

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

THE SNAKE-DOCTOR.

With admiring eyes I looked for some moments on this bold black man--
this slave-hero. I might have gazed longer, but the burning sensation
in my arm reminded me of my perilous situation.

"You will guide me to Bringiers?" was my hurried interrogatory.

"Daren't, mass'."

"Daren't! Why?"

"Mass' forgot I'se a runaway. White folk cotch Gabr'l--cut off him
arm."

"What? Cut off your arm?"

"Saten sure, mass'--dats da law of Loozyaney. White man strike nigga,
folk laugh, folk cry out, `Lap de dam nigga! lap him!' Nigga strike
white man, cut off nigga's arm. Like berry much to 'bleege mass' Edwad,
but daren't go to de clearins. White men after Gabr'l last two days.
Cuss'd blood-dogs and nigga-hunters out on im track. Thought young
mass' war one o' dem folks; dat's why um run."

"If you do not guide me, then I must die."

"Die!--die! why for mass' say dat?"

"Because I am lost. I cannot find