n any way removed from my most courteous
consideration. I think it was equally hard for her to adapt her
conduct to these new conditions. Accustomed all her life to respect,
to admiration, to the courtesy of men, she could not stoop to the
spirit of servitude. It was this effort to humble herself, to compel
remembrance, which caused her to speak of herself so often as a slave.

These thoughts assailed, pursued me, as I crept cautiously down the
steep bank, concealed by the shadows of the rushes. Yet in reality I
remained intent enough upon my purpose. Although unable to wholly
banish all memory of the young girl just left behind, I still realized
the gravity of my task, and my eyes were watchful of the shrouded
figure I was silently approaching. I drew nearer inch by inch,
advancing so slowly, and snake-like, that not even the slightest sound
of movement aroused suspicion. Apparently the fellow was engaged in
oiling the machinery, for he had placed the lantern on deck, and held a
long-spouted can in his fingers. His back remained toward me as I drew
near the stern, and, consequently, I no longer had a glimpse of his
face. The wooden wheel of the boat, a clumsy appearing apparatus,
rested almost directly against the bank, where the water was evidently
deep enough to float the vessel, and the single rope holding it in
position was drawn taut from the pressure of the current. Waiting
until the man was compelled to bend lower over his work, utterly
unconscious of my presence, I straightened up, and, pistol in hand,
stepped upon the wooden beam supporting the wheel. He must have heard
this movement, for he lifted his head quickly, yet was even then too
late; already I had gained the after-deck, and my weapon was on a level
with his eyes.

"Don't move, or cry out!" I commanded, sternly. "Obey orders and you
will not be hurt."

He shrank away, sinking upon the bench, his face upturned so that the
light fell full upon it, for the instant too greatly surprised and
frightened to give utterance to a sound. His mouth hung open, and his
eyes stared at me.

"Who--who wus yer? Whatcha want yere?"

"I am asking questions, and you are answering them. Are you armed?
All right, then; hand it over. Now put out that light."

He did exactly as I told him, moving as though paralyzed by fear, yet
unable to resist.

"You are a negro--a slave?"

"Yas, sah; Ah's Massa Donaldson's boy frum Saint Louee."

"He is the sher