I considered the
difficulties of the way--the reward that would be offered--the human
blood-hounds that would be set upon my track--the weariness--the
hunger--the gloomy thought, of not only losing all one's friends in one
day, but of having to seek and to make new friends in a strange world.
But, as I have said, the hour was come, and the man must act, or for ever
be a slave.

It was now two o'clock. I stepped into the quarter; there was a strange
and melancholy silence mingled with the destitution that was apparent in
every part of the house. The only morsel I could see in the shape of food,
was a piece of Indian flour bread, it might be half-a-pound in weight.
This I placed in my pocket, and giving a last look at the aspect of the
house, and at a few small children who were playing at the door, I sallied
forth thoughtfully and melancholy, and after crossing the barn-yard, a few
moments' walk brought me to a small cave, near the mouth of which lay a
pile of stones, and into which I had deposited my clothes. From this, my
course lay through thick and heavy woods and back lands to ---- town,
where my brother lived. This town was six miles distance. It was now near
three o'clock, but my object was neither to be seen on the road, or to
approach the town by daylight, as I was well-known there, and as any
intelligence of my having been seen there would at once put the pursuers
on my track. This first six miles of my flight, I not only travelled very
slowly, therefore, so as to avoid carrying any daylight to this town; but
during this walk another very perplexing question was agitating my mind.
Shall I call on my brother as I pass through, and shew him what I am
about? My brother was older than I, we were much attached; I had been in
the habit of looking to him for counsel.

I entered the town about dark, resolved, all things in view, _not_ to shew
myself to my brother. Having passed through the town without being
recognised, I now found myself under cover of night, a solitary wanderer
from home and friends; my only guide was the _north star_, by this I knew
my general course northward, but at what point I should strike Penn, or
when and where I should find a friend, I knew not. Another feeling now
occupied my mind,--I felt like a mariner who has gotten his ship outside
of the harbour and has spread his sails to the breeze. The cargo is on
board--the ship is cleared--and the voyage I must make; besides, this
being my first