man track, could not fail to follow and find us. It would be of
no use hiding in the swamp or the bush. The tallest sedge or the
thickest underwood could not give us shelter from pursuers like these.

Our first feeling, then, was that of hopelessness--quickly followed by a
half-formed resolve to go no farther, to stand our ground and be taken.
We had not death to fear; though I knew that if taken I might make up my
mind to some rough handling. I knew the feeling that was abroad in
relation to the Abolitionists--at that time raging like a fever. I had
heard of the barbarous treatment which some of these "fanatics"--as they
were called--had experienced at the hands of the incensed slave-owners.
I should no doubt be reckoned in the same category, or maybe, still
worse, be charged as a "nigger-stealer." In any case I had to fear
chastisement, and of no light kind either.

But my dread of this was nothing when compared with the reflection that,
if taken, _Aurore must go back to Gayarre_!

It was this thought more than any other that made my pulse beat quickly.
It was this thought that determined me not to surrender until after
every effort to escape should fail us.

I stood for some moments pondering on what course to pursue. All at
once a thought came into my mind that saved me from despair. That
thought was of Gabriel the runaway.

Do not imagine that I had forgotten him or his hiding-place all this
time. Do not fancy I had not thought of him before. Often, since we
had entered the woods, had he and his tree-cave arisen in my memory; and
I should have gone there for concealment, but that the distance deterred
me. As we intended to return to the Levee Road after sunset, I had
chosen the glade for our resting-place, on account of its being nearer.

Even then, when I learnt that hounds would be after us, I had again
thought of making for the Bambarra's hiding-place; but had dismissed the
idea, because it occurred to me that _the hounds could follow us
anywhere_, and that, by taking shelter with the runaway, we should only
guide his tyrants upon _him_.

So quick and confused had been all these reflections, that it had never
occurred to me that the hounds _could not trail us across water_. It
was only at that moment when pondering how I could throw them off the
track--thinking of the snake-charmer and his pine-cones--that I
remembered the water.

Sure enough, in that still lay a hope; and I could now apprecia