"When you get into a free country, you will be free."

"But who's my massa now? Dat's what dis chile want to know for sartin."

"You have no master."

"Den I'se free," exclaimed Cyd, exhibiting his ivories, which the gloom of the night, increased by the deep shadows of the tall trees, was powerless to conceal. "I tell you, I'se a free nigger."

Cyd commenced a most violent demonstration of satisfaction as he contemplated his new social position. He laughed, kicked with his heels, sang and danced. He felt that he had got the best of the argument, and this was no small ground of rejoicing.

"Suppose you should be caught?"

"Den I be Massa Kun'l's boy again."

"But why did you call me Massa Dandy?"

"Kase you order me round jes like Massa Kun'l, and de white folks. Dis chile begin to tink he's your nigger."

"You are just as good as I am."

"Yes, sar; Cyd knows all about dat. You tell me to git de row boat; den to git de wherry; and when I ask what for, you tell me to mind my own business, and not ask queshuns."

"It was because we had no time to spare," replied Dandy, whose feelings were injured by the charge of his sable companion.

"Dat may be; but you speak to me jes like de white folks."

"I didn't mean to do or say any thing that would make me seem like a master, for I hate the very sound of the word."

"Hossifus!" exclaimed Cyd, gratified by this acknowledgment. "I done tink you meant to be my massa, jes like de kun'l. If dis chile jes as good you be, Cyd can't see why you don't tell what you do dese tings for."

"I am willing to tell you what I did these things for, now that I have time to do so. But, Cyd, I will change places with you."

"Possifus! What fur?"

"You shall command the boat, and I will obey all your orders without asking a single question."

"What, Cyd?"

"Yes, Cyd," replied Dandy, earnestly. "Here, take the helm!"

"Gossifus! I dunno whar you're gwine."

"Very well; I will give you my map of the country, and you shall find the way for yourself, as I shall have to do."

"What you gib me?"

"The map."

"What's dat?"

"Here it is," replied Dandy, giving him a small pocket map of the State of Louisiana, of which he had possessed himself a few days before the departure.

Cyd took the map, turned it over two or three times, and could not make out its use. Lily and Dandy both enjoyed his confusion, for it was a great puzzle to him to know how they were to find their way through the swamp by the aid of this little book, as he called it. A lantern was lighted, and Lily unfolded the map, and spread it out upon one of the berths.

"Mossifus!" exclaimed Cyd, when he had carefully examined the map, and the lantern was prudently extinguished. "I don't see what dis paper fur."

"It's all I have to guide me to the ocean, after we have passed Chicot. Now, if you will take the map, and command the boat, I will obey you in all things."

"Golly! I don't see what good de paper's fur. I kin foller de norf star."

"But we are going to the south."

"I tink I will stay where I is, and you shall command de boat."

"Then you must mind me at once. Our very lives may depend upon your prompt obedience."

"I will, Dandy."

"Free men have to obey, as well as slaves. On board a ship, every body obeys the captain."

"What's use ob bein free, den?"

"The captain of the ship can't sell the sailor, nor separate him from his wife and children. The man is paid for what he does, and when his voyage is up he may go where he pleases."

"I knows all about it now, Dandy."

"I don't want to be called Dandy any more. My name is Daniel, but you may call me Dan for short."

"Possifus! Den's what's my name? I'se free too, and I wan't my name changed."

"Your name is Thucydides."

"Tucydimes!"

"No, Thucydides," laughed Dan—for we will adopt his suggestion, and call him no longer by his plantation name.

"Hossifus! Hab to git up afore breakfast to speak dat word in season for dinner," chuckled Cyd.

"You are called Cyd for short, as I am Dan. There is nothing bad about the word."

"It's a very good name, Cyd," added Lily.

"Goshus! If you say so, Missy Lily, it's all right. If it suits de fair seck, it suits me," said Cyd, shaking his fat sides with satisfaction. "Dis chile don't keer what you calls him, if you only calls him to supper."

"Now, Cyd, I will answer the questions you asked when we were getting under way."

"Yes, what ye got all dem boats draggin arter us fur?"

"Don't you see the reason, Cyd?"

The boy scratched his head, but he could not see. As we have before observed, he had not been in the habit of doing his own thinking, and, consequently, he was not skilled in reasoning from effect to cause.

"Suppose we had left the boats, Cyd," added Dan.

"Den we shouldn't hab em wid us, keepin de boat back."

"At six o'clock in the morning, Colonel Raybone will be ready to start on his trip. He will go down to the pier, and expect to find us all there."

"Gossifus! we shan't be dar!" exclaimed Cyd, whose imagination was lively enough to enable him to picture the scene that would ensue.

"What then, Cyd?"

"Golly! Massa Kun'l up and rave like he neber did afore," replied Cyd, who appeared to enjoy the idea.

"Well, what then?"

"Dunno. He can't help hisself," chuckled Cyd.

"Suppose we had left the boats?"

"Mossifus! He tell four stout boys to git in de club-boat, and streak it down de riber like an alligator arter a possum. Yah! ha, ha!" roared Cyd, holding on to his sides.

"Do you see why I have taken all the boats?"

"Yes, Dandy—Dan; I sees into it jes like a millstone. You'se got a long head, Dan. But what ye gwine to do wid de paint?"

"We shall live in the swamp till the colonel has done looking for us. This boat is white now, and we will paint her green, so that she can't be seen so easily."

"Dat's good, Dan; but de kun'l won't stop lookin fur us till he finds out something."

"I mean that he shall find out something. He will suppose that we have gone to the north. He will never suspect that we have come this way. Here we are," said Dan, suddenly rising in the boat, as she came to a narrow opening on the southerly bank of the river.

Running the boat up to the bank of the bayou, he ordered Cyd to make her fast to a tree on the shore.

"What's gwine to be done now, Dan?" asked Cyd, when he had obeyed the order.

"We shall follow the big river no farther. Now, I want to make Master Raybone think we have gone up that way, which leads to the Mississippi. I left some papers in my room, which will convince him that I intended to go that way. Now, Lily, we must leave you for a little while," added Dan, as he drew the bateau alongside. "We will not be gone more than an hour."

Dan and Cyd got into the bateau, and towed the other boats about two miles up the river, where they secured them in such a position that they seemed to be abandoned. When the search for them was made, these boats would be found two miles from the course the fugitives had actually taken. They then pulled back to the Isabel, and got under way again.

Their course was now changed, and the boat passed down the narrow cut-off, which soon widened into a broad stream. The wind, which had been quite fresh when they started, had now subsided to a gentle breeze; but as the country was more open than on the Big River, as it was called, they still moved along at the rate of three or four miles an hour.

At five o'clock in the morning—Dan had a silver watch which had been presented to him by Master Archy—they reached the entrance of Lake Chicot. It was about daylight, and as there was a plantation on the western bank, it was not deemed prudent to proceed any farther, for if the boat was seen, it would at once be recognized as that of Colonel Raybone.

The westerly side of the lake was low, swampy ground, covered with a thick growth of trees and an undergrowth of cane. The skipper of the Isabel ran along this shore till he found a stream flowing into the lake. Hauling up the centre board, he ran his craft into this creek. As the sails would not draw, being sheltered by the trees and cane, the two boys worked the boat up the stream with their oars till she was completely concealed from the opposite shore, or from the lake, if any boat should happen to pass during the day.

Here the careful skipper intended to lie until the friendly shades of another night should permit them to proceed on the voyage to a more secure haven.



CHAPTER X.

BREAKFAST ON BOARD THE ISABEL.

"Now, Cyd, get up the furnace, and make a fire," said Dan, as soon as the sails of the Isabel had been furled, and the boat carefully secured to a tree on the shore.

"Sartin," replied Cyd, as he took off the hatch of the stow-hold. "Who's gwine to be de cook, Dan?"

"Do you know how to cook, Cyd?"

"Hossifus! I don't know nossin at all 'bout it."

"Neither do I; and I think Lily does not. I will try my hand at the business first. We can make some coffee, boil the potatoes, and fry the bacon. I am sure I can do that."

"So kin Cyd."

"Just as soon as we get to the place where we are going, we will divide the work between us. You shall be cook one week, and I will the next week. Now bring up the bacon, the potatoes, and the coffee."

Old Jake, who was to do the cooking for the excursionists, had provided every thing that would be needed for the purpose. In a short time the fires were blazing in the two furnaces, the coffee and the potatoes were boiling upon one, and the other was in readiness for the frying-pan, when the other articles should be in a sufficiently forward state to require its use.

Though Dan had never actually turned his hand to the business of cooking, he had so often seen the various operations performed, that he was competent to do it himself, after acquiring a little experience. He was a keen observer, and whenever he saw any thing done, he could generally do it himself.

In the forward part of the cabin of the Isabel, reaching from the foremast to the centre-board, was a fixed table; and while Dan was cooking the bacon, Cyd prepared it for the morning meal. They had every thing which could be found in any well-ordered house, and the table had more the appearance of that of a first-class hotel than one provided for the use of the runaway slaves.

"Possifus!" exclaimed Cyd, when the table was ready, as he sat down upon the berth to observe the effect. "Dat's bery fine! Cyd, you'se gwine to set down to dat table. You'se a free nigger, now, Cyd, and jes as good as de best ob dem. Dar's de bread, dar's de pickles, dar's de butter, dar's de sugar, dar's de milk, dar's de salt, dar's de castor. Gossifus! All dat's bery fine, and Cyd's gwine to set down at de fus table."

"Here, Cyd," called Dan, through the sky-light, as he proceeded to pass down the breakfast. "Put them on the table."

"Mossifus! Do you think Cyd don't know what to do wid dese yere tings? I knows what fried bacon's fur!"

The potatoes, the bacon, and the coffee were handed down, and when they were placed upon the table, the effect called forth another rhapsody from Cyd. While he was apostrophizing the bacon and the potatoes, he was joined by Dan.

"Come, Lily," said he; "breakfast is ready."

"Hossifus! We forgot one ting for sartin," exclaimed Cyd, suddenly looking as sober as though he had not a friend in the world.

"What, Cyd."

"De bell."

"Bell? What do we want of a bell?"

"To call de folks to breakfas, to be sure," replied Cyd, distending his mouth from ear to ear.

"I think we can get along without a bell," replied Dan, laughing at the folly of his companion.

Lily joined the boys in the forward cabin, as they called the space forward of the centre-board. She looked as pleased and happy as Dan and Cyd; and one would hardly have believed, from their appearance, that they were fugitives from slavery. All the talk about the chilly damps of the swamp, the perils and the hardships of the flight, appeared to have been forgotten. The planter and his son could hardly have been more jovial than the party which had taken possession of the yacht.

Cyd was not accustomed to the refinements of social life, as Dan and Lily had been, and he began to behave in a very indecorous and remarkable manner. As it was all in the family, Dan ventured to suggest to him that, as he was now seated at a gentleman's table, he should behave in a gentlemanly manner, and not eat bacon from his fingers, when a knife and fork had been especially provided for this purpose. Cyd accepted the rebuke, and thereafter imitated the manners of his companions, even carrying his ideas of gentility to extremes.

The cooking was a decided success, with the exception of the coffee, which was very muddy and uninviting. This was not strange, inasmuch as none of the chemical conditions, upon which good coffee is produced, had been complied with. It was nothing but coffee and water stewed together. Dan was mortified, and apologized for the failure.

"How did you make it, Dan?" asked Lily, with a smile, which fully spoke the offender's pardon.

"I put the coffee in, and then the water," replied the amateur cook, with a blush.

"Hot water?"

"No, cold."

Lily laughed aloud at this blunder, and then gave him a receipt for making good coffee, which included the use of boiling water and fish-skin.

"I saw that fish-skin in the locker, and I couldn't think what it was for?" laughed Dan.

But the breakfast was finished, and, in spite of the drawback of poor coffee, it was pronounced satisfactory, especially by Cyd, whose plantation rations had not included coffee, butter, white bread, and other articles which graced the table of the Isabel.

"Now, Dan and Cyd, you can go away and do what you please," said Lily.

"We will clear up the table and wash the dishes first," replied Dan.

"No; I am going to do that."

"You, Lily?"

"I am going to do my share of the work. I can't manage a boat, but I think I can cook, and take care of the cabin, set the table, and do every thing that belongs to the women."

"I didn't mean to have you work, Lily," said Dan. "You have been a lady's-maid all your life, and never did any work."

"Well, I know how; and I'm going to do my share. I should not feel right to live like a lady here. I mean to do all the work in the cabin, and the cooking too."

"No, Cyd and I will do that."

"Mossifus! Do all dat, and all de rest too."

"I must do something, or I should be very unhappy."

"Well, Lily, you shall have your own way; and while you are clearing off the table, Cyd and I will prepare the lady's cabin."

"The what?" asked Lily.

"Your cabin; you shall have a room all to yourself."

Dan left the cabin, followed by Cyd. Taking from one of the lockers, in the standing room, an awning which was used to spread over the forward deck, he unrolled it, and proceeded to make his calculations, while Cyd stood by, scratching his head and wondering what was going to be done.

The cabin of the Isabel was entered by two doors, one on each side of the centre-board, which divided the after cabin into two apartments. Dan, after measuring the cabin, cut the awning to the size required, and then nailed it up as a partition between the forward and the after cabin. The space thus enclosed formed a state room, six feet long and three feet wide, outside of the berth. This room could be entered only by the door from the standing room. It made a very neat and comfortable chamber, and Lily was much pleased with it.

By the time the dishes were washed and put away, there was considerable gaping among the party. Cyd opened his mouth fearfully wide, and Miss Lily's eyelids drooped, like her fragrant namesake, when its mission on earth is nearly finished. The fugitives had come to the knowledge that they had slept none during the preceding night, and as the voyage was to be continued when darkness favored the movement, it was necessary that the hours should be appropriated to slumber. Lily retired to her new state room, closed the door, and was soon asleep.

"Now, Cyd, one of us must turn in," said Dan.

"Can't we bof turn in?"

"No; one of us must stand watch while the other sleeps. We have been getting along so finely, that we have almost forgot that we are in danger."

"Possifus!" gasped Cyd. "Wha—wha—what you want to keep watch fur?"

"Suppose any one should come upon us while we are asleep?" added Dan.

"'Pose any one come 'pon us when we're awake: what den? Who's a gwine to help hisself?" yawned Cyd.

"I am, for one. I shall not be taken, if I can help it."

"Gossifus! What you gwine to do? 'Pose you see de nigger hunter, wid tree, four dozen bloodhounds: wha—wha—what you gwine to do den?"

"I'm going to fight! And you must do the same!" replied Dan, with energy, as he grasped one of the fowling-pieces that lay upon the bunk.

"Gwine to fight!" cried Cyd, opening his eyes with astonishment. "Gwine to kill de dogs and kill de men?"

"That's what I mean. I will shoot man or dog that attempts to touch me."

"Wha—wha—wha—" stammered Cyd, as he always did when excited; but the idea was too big for him just then, and he broke down altogether.

"That's a settled point, and you must learn to use a gun."

"Woo—woo—woo—would you shoot Massa Kun'l, if he come for to take you?" demanded Cyd.

"I would, or any other man. I belong to myself now, and I will fight for my own freedom to the last."

"I dunno 'bout dat, Dan," mused Cyd. "Hossifus! Shoot Massa Kun'l! Dunno 'bout dat."

"Turn in, Cyd, and go to sleep. You may have the first chance."

The two boys drew lots for the choice of berths, and Dan obtained the after one. Cyd was soon snoring in one of the forward bunks, while Dan took his place upon deck to guard against the approach of man or beast that might threaten their newly-acquired freedom.



CHAPTER XI.

THE BAY OF THE BLOODHOUNDS.

Dan had his solitary watch for four hours, with nothing to disturb his meditations except the occasional visit of an alligator; but as the ugly reptiles did not offer to swallow the boat, or otherwise interfere with her, the lonely sentinel did not even challenge the intruders. He was very sleepy, for he had not closed his eyes during the preceding night, and his great purpose had sadly interfered with his slumbers since the time for its execution had been fixed.

It was one o'clock when he called the "watch below." Lily was still wrapped in slumber, worn out by her sleepless night, and by the excitement of her novel position. After charging Cyd to keep awake, assuring him that "eternal vigilance was the price of liberty," Dan went into the cabin to obtain the rest he so much needed. He slept soundly, and, no doubt, dreamed strange things; but when he awoke it was nearly dark. Starting up with a spring, he bounded to the deck, where he found Cyd fast asleep upon the cushions of the standing room.

"Cyd!" exclaimed he, seizing the faithless sentinel by the collar. "Is this the way you keep watch?"

"Possifus!" ejaculated Cyd, as he sprang to his feet. "I done been asleep."

"Been asleep! I should think you had! Have you been snoring there all the afternoon?"

"No, sar! Dis chile hain't been asleep more'n two minutes—no, sar, nor more'n a minute and a half."

"Yes, you have; you have been asleep all the afternoon. You deserve to be a slave all the rest of your life!" added Dan, indignantly.

"Gossifus! I tink not. Wha—wha—wha—what does you mean by dat?" stuttered Cyd.

"How dared you go to sleep when you were on watch?"

"I tell you, Dan, I'se been wide awake all de arternoon. Hadn't been asleep quite two minutes."

"He hasn't slept long, Dan," said Lily, as she came out of the cabin; "for I was with him only a little while ago."

"I'm glad of it, if he hasn't," added Dan, more calmly.

"You kin bet yer life dis chile don't go to sleep on de watch. No, sar!"

"But you did go to sleep, Cyd. You were asleep when I came on deck."

"I jes close my eyes for a minute, but I was jes gwine to wake up when you comed on deck."

"I can't keep awake all the time; I must sleep some."

"Bout six hours," chuckled Cyd; and his companion had really slept about this time.

"Why didn't you call me then, as I did you?"

"I told him not to do so, Dan," interposed Lily, whose sweet smile was sure to remove any objection which Dan might have. "We ate our supper about an hour ago. Cyd was going to call you, but I wouldn't let him. I knew how tired you were, and you will not have any chance to sleep to-night."

"It was very kind of you, Lily," said Dan with a smile. "But I must teach Cyd not to sleep when he is on watch. Any carelessness of this kind might spoil every thing."

"I never'll go to sleep on de watch agin, so help me Possifus!" exclaimed Cyd, now fully impressed by the magnitude of his criminal neglect.

"I'll answer for him," said Lily; "I'll stay on deck and keep him awake next time."

"O, no, you needn't, Lily."

"But why can't I keep watch in the daytime, and let both of you sleep? If there was any danger I could call you."

"I don't mean to ask you to keep watch, or do any such work. It is not a woman's place."

"I mean to take my turn next time," said she, resolutely. "Now, Dan, I will get your supper. Cyd and I ate bread and butter, and drank cold water; but if you are going to sail the boat all night, you will want some tea."

"Thank you, Lily; you are very kind. I will get the tea myself."

"No, you shall not. I am not going to be idle all the time. I mean to do my share of the labor. If it isn't a woman's work to keep watch, it is to get tea; and if you please, I will do it myself."

My young readers will remember that Lily, though a slave girl, was a gentle, delicate creature. She had never done any manual labor. She had simply stood by her young mistress, fanned her when she was warm, brushed away the flies, handed her a book, or other article, when she wanted it, picked up her handkerchief when she dropped it, and assisted at her toilet. If Miss Edith needed any greater exertion of bone and muscle, another person was called to render the service. But she had been about the kitchen and work rooms of the plantation, and having a taste for the various housekeeping operations, she had incidentally acquired some little skill in cooking, needle-work, and other branches of female industry.

Her form was agile and graceful, her organization delicate; and no person, even with a knowledge of her social condition, and rankly imbued with southern prejudices, could have denied that she was beautiful in form and feature. Her complexion was fairer than that of a majority of Anglo-Saxon maidens. Her eye was soft, and sweetly expressive. Such was Lily, the slave girl of Redlawn; and when she talked of performing the drudgery of the Isabel, Dan, with that chivalrous consideration for the gentler sex which characterizes the true gentleman, resented the idea. He preferred to labor day and night, rather than permit her to soil her white hands with the soot of the furnaces.

Lily, as we have seen, had wiser and more sensible ideas on the subject. She had an instinctive contempt for that sort of chivalry, and in spite of the remonstrances of the knightly skipper of the Isabel, she kindled a fire, and with the assistance of Cyd, soon placed the tea and bread and butter upon the cabin table. She then took her place at the head of the board, and "did the honors" with an elegance and grace which would have adorned the breakfast parlor at Redlawn. Though Cyd had been to supper, he accepted the invitation to repeat the operation.

Before the meal was commenced, it was necessary to light the cabin lantern, which swung over the table. Whether there is any exhilaration in a cup of tea or not, the party soon became very cheerful; and Cyd was as chipper as though he were in the midst of the Christmas holidays.

After supper Dan took the bateau, and pulled out to the lake, to reconnoitre the position, and assure himself that there were no obstacles to the departure of the Isabel. When he returned, Lily had washed the dishes and put the cabin in order, thus carrying her point, and establishing herself as mistress in this department. Dan did not deem it prudent to start so early in the evening; but the sails were hoisted, and every thing made ready for the departure.

The wind was light, and the leader of the expedition had some doubts about starting at all that night. The Isabel had made only about twenty miles during the preceding night, with a strong breeze to help her during a portion of the time. He had carefully studied the maps in his possession, and estimated the distances by the scale between the various points. He knew exactly where he intended to go, and a failure to reach the place before daylight would expose him to the risk of being seen from some of the plantations on the banks of the lake.

The responsibility of deciding this important question rested upon him alone. The distance to be accomplished before they could reach another place of security was about twenty-five miles. An average of three miles an hour would enable him to complete the passage by sunrise, and he at last decided to attempt it.

About nine o'clock the two boys got into the bateau, and towed the Isabel out of the creek, and with gaff-topsails and staysail set, in addition to the jib, fore, and main sails, the voyage was renewed. Keeping as near the western shore of the lake as it was prudent to go, the boat glided gently over the tranquil waters.

In a couple of hours the Isabel reached the narrow outlet of the lake. Thus far, the south-westerly wind had enabled her to run with a free sheet; but at this point the course changed, and Dan found that he should be compelled to beat dead to windward in order to reach his destination. Then he wished he had not started; but up the creek he had been unable to determine from what direction the light breeze came, and had decided the question to the best of his ability.

Though he had no reason to reproach himself for his want of care, the situation was none the less difficult or trying on that account. But there was one compensating advantage: as he passed through the narrow outlet of the lake, the broad surface of the Chetemache was before him. It was forty miles long by ten miles wide, and afforded him abundant space in which to work the boat. And in this open sea the wind came unobstructed to his sails.

The course of the Isabel, on her first tack, lay close to the eastern shore of the lake. The boat moved very slowly through the water, and Lily and Cyd sat by the side of the skipper, talking in low tones of the future, with its hopes and its trials, its joys and its dangers. Suddenly they heard a crackling sound in the cane-brake near them; then came from a greater distance the bay of bloodhounds. There was no mistaking these sounds; and for an hour they listened in almost breathless anxiety to these appalling indications of a slave-hunt.

The yelp of the dogs came nearer and nearer; but they had lost the sounds which indicated the presence of the hunted fugitive.

"Gossifus!" whispered Cyd, for he had been forbidden to speak a loud word. "Where you 'pose de nigger dem dogs is chasin' is?"

"I don't know. I pray that he may escape," replied Dan.

"Can't you help him?" asked Lily, whose frame shook with terror, as her fancy pictured the terrible scene which she had so often heard described.

A splash in the water a hundred yards astern of the Isabel now attracted the attention of the party.

"Can't you help him?" repeated Lily, in trembling tones.

"It will not be safe for us to show ourselves, for the human bloodhounds are not far off."

"Do help him if you can. Save him from those terrible dogs!" pleaded Lily.

"He will swim to that island," said Dan. "Perhaps the dogs will not catch him."

"Yes, they will."

"Yes, dey will. Dey done leap in de water. Dar dey go!" added Cyd, as they listened to the splashes as the brutes sprang into the lake.

"Save him! Save him, Dan!" cried Lily.

"It may cost us our lives and our liberty," replied Dan.

"No matter. Let us die if we can save the poor man from the fangs of the bloodhounds."

"I will, Lily," replied Dan, as he put the Isabel about, and headed towards the small island, about half a mile from the shore. "Take the helm, Cyd," continued he, as he left his post at the tiller, and rushed into the cabin.

He returned in a moment with two fowling-pieces in his hands, and proceeded to load them. By this time the panting fugitive was distinctly seen, closely pursued by the dogs.



CHAPTER XII.

QUIN, THE RUNAWAY.

Dan had loaded the fowling-pieces with buckshot. Though not a good marksman, he had some experience in the use of arms, and felt fully competent to cut off the bloodhounds before they could pounce upon their human prey. Leaving Cyd at the helm, he went forward and stationed himself at the heel of the bowsprit.

The dogs were better swimmers than the fugitive, and were rapidly gaining upon him, for the poor creature's limbs seemed to be partially paralyzed by the appalling danger that menaced him. The Isabel was approaching the scene of this exciting race with a rapidity which promised soon to terminate the affair.

Dan immediately obtained a correct idea of the relative positions of the dog and the man. His object was to run the boat between them, and thus cut off the savage beasts from their prey.

"Luff a little, Cyd," said he.

"Luff 'em 'tis," replied the helmsman, who was boatman enough to understand the nautical phrase, and even to handle the craft under the direction of a more skilful skipper.

"Steady as she is."

"See here, Dan. Is you gwine to shoot?" asked Cyd.

"Certainly I am. What do you suppose I got the guns for?"

"Possifus! What you gwine to shoot?"

"The dogs, of course. Luff a little—luff! You are letting her fall off."

"Luff 'em 'tis. See here, Dan. You be mighty keerful you don't hit de nigger."

"Silence, now, and mind your helm! You are steering wild."

Cyd had so far improved in the cultivation of the quality of obedience on shipboard, that he did not speak again, but he was fearfully excited by the stirring scene which was transpiring near him. Dan was not less moved, though his cool determination produced a different manifestation of his feelings. He was conscious of the danger to which his interference in the hunt subjected him. There were probably several slave-hunters on the track of the fugitive. The Isabel would be seen by them, and possibly be recognized, which would certainly bring pursuers upon her track.

But it was not in his nature to permit his suffering fellow-creature, in this unequal strife, to be conquered by his human and brute antagonists. The appeal of the gentle Lily had been addressed to a sympathizing heart, and he entered with all his soul upon the task of saving the slave from the fangs of his pursuers.

The Isabel had now come within a few yards of the dogs and their prey. The time for action had come. Dan was fully sensible of the great crime, as the southern slave law regarded it, of shooting a "nigger dog;" but with a steady hand, though his heart bounded with exciting emotions, he raised the gun to his shoulder, and taking deliberate aim at the nearest hound, he fired. The brute gave a deep yell, and for some time continued to splash about in the water.

"Don't shoot me, massa! Don't shoot me, and I'll gib myself up," cried the fugitive, who seemed to have heard the report of the gun, without observing the effect which the shot had produced.

"I mean to save you," replied Dan, as he levelled the gun at another of the dogs; but this time he missed his aim, and the hound continued to swim towards the negro.

"Luff a little more," said Dan to Cyd, as the boat came between the man and the dogs.

"Luff 'em 'tis."

As the boat now divided the dogs from their prey, Dan did not again load the guns; but seizing the boat-hook, he gave the foremost hound a knock on the head, which caused him to retreat, howling with pain.

"Swim this way," cried Dan to the negro. "I will save you."

"Yes, sar," gasped the negro, whose breath was nearly exhausted by the hard struggle through which he had just passed.

As the Isabel luffed up, the fugitive came alongside, and Dan assisted him to climb upon the deck.

"O Lord!" groaned he, as he threw himself at full length upon the forecastle.

"Poor fellow!" sighed Lily, who ran forward to see the sufferer as soon as he was hauled on board. "What can we do for him?"

"He needs rest. He is all worn out. He may have run for miles before he took to the water."

"Can't we give him something? There is some cold tea in the cabin."

"I will get him something," added Dan; and he ran aft and entered the cabin.

He returned in a moment with a bottle and a tumbler. The fugitive still lay upon the deck, panting and groaning like a dying gladiator after the mortal struggle of the arena. Freedom was worth the exertion he had made, though every fibre in his frame had been strained. He had manfully fought the battle, though without the interference of our party he would certainly have lost the day. Dan poured out a tumblerful of the wine which the bottle contained, and placed it at the lips of the sufferer. He eagerly drank off the draught, and sank back upon the deck.

"He will be better soon. He is all out of breath," said Dan, as he brought one of the cushions from the standing room and put it under the poor man's head.

"Gossifus!" shouted Cyd, who still retained his position at the helm, though his interest in the scene of the forward deck caused him to steer very badly. "Hossifus!" added he, in gasping tones; "de dogs! de dogs!"

"What's the matter, Cyd?" demanded Dan.

"De dogs! Dey done eat dis chile all up! Dey won't leabe de ghost ob a grease-spot luff of dis nigger!" cried Cyd, in mortal terror.

"Mind how you steer, then!" replied Dan, hastening to the assistance of his terrified companion. "Don't you see you have thrown her up into the wind, so that the sails don't draw a bit!"

"Mossifus! dis chile don't wan't to be food for de dogs."

"You will be, if you don't mind what you are about," said Dan, as he took the tiller; and putting it up, the boat gathered fresh headway, and soon shot out of reach of the bloodhounds.

"Why don't you shoot de wicked dogs?"

"I don't want any more noise. I hate the dogs as bad as you do, but we must be careful," replied Dan. "Now, can you mind what you are about, and keep the sails full."

"Dis chile kin do dat, for sartin."

"If you don't the dogs will have you. Now, be careful, and I will go forward, and take care of the poor fellow, who is nearly dead. Watch the sails; never mind the dogs; they can't catch you, if you sail the boat properly."

"You kin trus dis chile for dat. Cyd isn't afeerd ob notin, only he don't want to be eat up by de wicked dogs."

Dan went forward, where Lily was bending over the panting runaway, rubbing his temples, and speaking sweet words of hope and comfort to him. In a short time he was in some measure recovered from the effects of his fearful struggle with the fate that beset him.

"I was sure I was caught, when I saw de boat," said he, as he raised himself to a sitting posture, and gazed with astonishment at those who had so singularly proved to be friends, instead of foes.

"Are there any men on your track?" asked Dan, who could not lose sight of the peril he had incurred by this Samaritan act.

"I speck dar is," replied he. "I hear dem off eber so far, but I don't see dem."

"Can they chase you on the lake?"

"I speck dey can. Dey'll get a boat and follor de dogs."

"Where are you from?" asked Lily.

"From Major Pembroke's plantation, 'bout ten mile from dese yere parts, I speck."

"How long since you run away?"

"I luff de place about tree days ago. I stay in de cane-brake till noon to-day, and git so hungry I could stan it no longer. Den I goes out to find someting to eat. Den somebody sees me, and dey follow me wid de dogs. I done kill two of dem dogs, and I kill de rest, but I hear de men coming, and I run for de lake. I speck, when I git in de water, to frow de dogs off de scent, but dey git so near dey see and hear me. Dem's mighty fine nigger dogs, or dey never follor me into de water. I done gib it all up when I hear dem in de water arter me."

"Did you get any thing to eat when you went out of the cane-brake," asked Lily.

"No, missy; I got seen 'fore I find any ting."

"Poor fellow! Then you haven't had any thing to eat for three days?"

"Noting but leabes an de bark ob trees."

"I will give you some supper at once," said Lily, as she hastened to the cabin.

"Lily!" called Dan. "You mustn't light the lantern, or make a fire."

"Why not?"

"The light would betray us. The slave-hunters will soon be out in their boat after this man."

"I will not, then."

While Lily was engaged below, Dan provided the runaway with a suit of his own clothes, which were not much too small for him, as he was a man of medium stature. He then conducted him to the standing room, for he was still too weak to walk without support. His supper was brought up, and he ate cold bacon and potatoes, bread and cheese, till the wondering Lily thought he would devour their whole stock of provisions, and till Dan kindly suggested that he would make himself sick if he ate any more.

While he was eating, Dan satisfied his curiosity in regard to the Isabel and the party on board of her. The runaway, whose name was Quin,—an abbreviation of Quincy,—listened with astonishment to the story of these elegant fugitives, who ran away in a yacht, and lived in a style worthy of a planter's mansion. No doubt he thought their experience was poetical and pretty, compared with his own, for his flight had been a death struggle with famine and flood, with man and brute.

In the mean time, the Isabel had run the dogs out of sight, and the waters in the direction from which she had just come were as still as death. No doubt the lake would be scoured in search of the fugitive; but for the present the party seemed to be secure from pursuit.

The boat was now approaching the northern shore of the lake, and it became necessary to tack. The wind held steady, but light; and Dan had but small hopes of being able to reach his destination before daylight. When every thing was made snug on the other tack, and there seemed to be no present danger ahead or astern, Cyd conducted Quin to one of the forward berths, and he turned in for the night. The runaway was evidently a very pious slave, and the young fugitives listened with reverend interest to the long prayer he offered up before he retired. It was a paean of thanksgiving for his escape from the fangs of the slave-hunters. It was homely speech, but it was earnest and sincere, and those who listened were deeply impressed by its fervid simplicity.

Dan and Lily sat alone in the stern of the boat, for Cyd had been permitted to turn in with the runaway. They talked of freedom and the future for an hour, and then they were started by the sound of oars in the distance. The slave-hunters were on their track.



CHAPTER XIII.

THE NIGHT CHASE ON THE LAKE.

Though the Isabel carried all her extra sails, the wind was so light that she made very little progress through the water, and the sound of oars which indicated the approach of a boat was appalling to Dan. There could be no doubt that it contained the slave-hunters in pursuit of Quin; and the fate of the whole party seemed to be linked with that of the slave, who was sleeping in happy security in the cabin.

The schooner was close-hauled, and sailing as near the wind as she could; but Dan, as soon as he realized the peril of the situation, gave the boat a couple of points, which sensibly increased her speed. When he first heard the pursuer's boat, it was just abeam of the Isabel. His present course, therefore, carried him nearer to the boat for a time, but it was not safe to permit her to get to the windward of the Isabel, in that light breeze.

Dan was satisfied that, if he had been in the four-oar boat with his black crew, he could have overhauled the Isabel in a short time, if the two craft had been in the positions occupied by the pursuer and the pursued. The race depended entirely upon the character of the boat in which the slave-hunters had embarked.

Whatever the result of the pursuit, Dan was fully determined not to be taken himself, nor to permit his friends on board to be taken. With the arms in the cabin, he was confident that he could make a good defence. But the thought of taking the life, even of a slave-hunter, was terrible to him, though he had fully reasoned himself into the belief that such a course would be perfectly justifiable before God; and he cared little for the judgment of a slave-holding community. His Maker had given him the right to be free—had endowed him with the right to use his own bone and sinew for his own benefit and happiness; and the man or the community that attempted to deprive him of this right committed a crime against God and him, and it was his duty to defend himself against this violation of his Heaven-given right.

He hoped, however, to be spared the pain of resorting to the use of arms. He prayed to God, with all the earnestness of an earnest nature, for more wind; for his creed, if he had any, was very simple, and included a belief in special providences. The boat of the slave-hunters was now not more than half a mile distant, and the chase had become intensely exciting to Dan and Lily, who alone were on deck. The trembling maiden could with difficulty maintain a reasonable self-possession. She was terrified as the panting hare when she feels the warm breath of the pursuing hound.

"We shall certainly be taken, Dan," said she, as she caught sight of the boat beneath the main boom of the schooner. "We are lost."

"No, Lily, not lost. You shall never be taken while I have a drop of blood left in my body," replied Dan, in a low and earnest tone.

"Why, they are ever so much nearer than they were when we first saw them."

"That is true; but it is only because I changed the course of the boat."

"Why did you change it, then?"

"Because, if I run her down into the corner of the lake, they can easily cut us off."

"I suppose you have done the best you could."

"There was no other way to do," answered Dan, as he glanced under the boom at the pursuer. "We shall soon know which boat goes the fastest now."

"I don't understand it at all," said Lily, whose knowledge of seamanship was very limited.

"You know the shape of the letter A?"

"I do."

"Well, that boat has been running up one leg of the A, and I have been running up the other; so, you see, we must be coming nearer together. I had to run this way in order to use the wind to the best advantage."

"But you will come together in this way in a few moments."

"No; we are as near now as we can be, unless that boat sails faster than we do. I shall continue to sail in a straight line, but I shall get ahead of the other if she does not change her course. She cannot cut me out now, at any rate."

Probably Lily was willing to talk of this subject to banish more painful thoughts from her mind, though it is not likely that she clearly comprehended the tactics of the skipper of the Isabel.

"Don't you think I had better call Cyd and Quin?" asked she, after she had again glanced at the position of the pursuing boat.

"No, let them sleep. We will not call them till it is necessary to do so," replied Dan.

"Do you think we can escape them?" asked she, anxiously.

"I cannot tell, Lily. I hope so. It depends entirely upon the wind. If the breeze should die out, of course we could make no progress at all."

"Do you think the wind will die out?" said she, nervously.

"I can't tell, Lily. I hope not, I pray not."

"Suppose it should die out, Dan?" added she, moving up nearer to the skipper.

"If we lose the wind there is nothing to prevent the boat from overtaking us at once."

"O, dear!" shuddered Lily, moving up still nearer to him who was her only earthly protector.

"Why do you tremble so, Lily?" asked Dan, as he took her hand and pressed it in his own, perhaps thinking that he might thus impart to her some of his own steadiness.

"Because I am so terribly frightened," replied she, with quivering lips. "I would rather die than be taken; and I have been thinking that I would throw myself into the lake if the boat catches us."

"You shall not be taken, Lily," said Dan, his lips compressed, and his teeth tightly closed, evincing the determination with which he had resolved to meet the slave-hunters, if they attempted to lay their polluting hands upon the gentle girl by his side.

"What can you do against such men as those?"

"I can fight, Lily; I would do so to save myself, but more to save you."

"O Heaven! If I should be taken! What would become of me?"

"No, no, Lily: don't take on so," said Dan, as he passed his arm around her waist—a familiarity in which he had never before indulged, but which was done only as a father clasps his child—to inspire her with more confidence, to assure her that she was in the care of one who was able and willing to save her from the dreadful fate that impended.

"I wish I could be brave as you are, Dan," said she, confidingly; for the expedient of her devoted friend seemed not to be without some effect. "You don't appear to be at all alarmed."

"Because I have firmly resolved not to be taken myself, and not to let you be taken."

"I suppose they only want Quin."

"They cannot have him. He is a fugitive, like ourselves, and I don't believe God would permit us to escape if we should wickedly abandon him."

"Nor I; we won't do that. We will all be taken together," said Lily, whose sympathy for the hunted runaway seemed, for the moment, to give her new courage.

"Do you suppose they know any thing about us?" asked she.

"Perhaps they do. I suppose Colonel Raybone has sent hunters in every direction for us, and has probably offered a reward."

"Then we shall certainly be taken," answered Lily, with a shudder.

"We will not be taken, Lily, whoever pursues us."

"Hallo! In the boat there!" shouted a man of the pursuing party.

The slave-hunters were now within less than a quarter of a mile of the Isabel, for they had been gaining upon her by a vigorous use of their oars. The boat which contained them was now exactly astern of the schooner.

"Hallo!" replied Dan, who, knowing that the men could not talk and row to the best advantage, was quite willing to converse with them.

"What boat's that?" shouted the spokesman of the slave-hunters.

"Captain Barrett's," replied Dan, whose virtue was not sufficiently developed to induce him to tell the truth in his present perilous situation.

"Where from?"

"Down below Brashear," answered Dan, who had previously made up his mind what to say if any conversation with the pursuers should become necessary.

"What ye doin up here?"

"Came up with a party."

"Seen ary runaway nigger in the water?"

"No," shouted Dan, promptly.

The question filled him with hope, for it assured him the slave-hunters had not been near enough even to hear the report of the fowling-pieces when he fired them; or, at least, not near enough to discover who had fired them.

"Didn't ye see him?" asked the pursuers again.

"No."

"Gossifus! Wha—wha—wha—what's de matter?" demanded Cyd, rushing up from the cabin with Quin, both of them having been awakened from their slumbers by the voice of the skipper.

"Silence, Cyd!" said Dan, in a low, decided tone.

"Hush, Cyd!" added Lily, in a whisper. "Don't speak a word."

"Wha—wha—wha——"

"Hush, Cyd!" repeated Lily, who seemed, in the moment of danger, to be endowed with a self-possession at variance with her former timidity.

"Where you bound now?" called the slave-hunter.

"Home," replied Dan.

They asked no further questions for a time, and Dan saw, with a thrill of satisfaction, that they were lying upon their oars. He hoped that his answers had convinced them the runaway was not on board; but in this he was disappointed. He heard the men in the boat talking together, though he could not make out what they said. When the conference was ended, they renewed their efforts to overtake the Isabel.

"Hallo, the schooner!" shouted the spokesman again.

"Hallo, the boat," replied Dan.

"Heave to, and let us see you a minute."

"What for?"

"Want to talk with you."

"Can't stop."

"Guess ye kin. Heven't ye seen nary nigger?"

"No."

"Well, stop—won't ye?"

"Can't stop; must get home by sunrise."

"Well, ye must stop!" yelled the speaker, angrily, and with an oath.

"Hossifus!" groaned Cyd, in mortal terror.

"Shut up, Cyd," added Dan, sternly. "If you can't hold your tongue, I'll throw you overboard!"

"Possifus! Ugh! Wha—wha—wha——"

"Come, Cyd," interposed Quin, in a low tone, "don't make a noise. If you do, we shall all be lost."

"Dis chile's awful skeered. I done wish I hadn't come," replied Cyd, in a gentler tone; but the words trembled on his lips.

"Quin," said Dan.

"Sar," replied the fugitive, with a self-possession which thoroughly shamed the quaking Cyd.

"Take hold of the painter of the bateau, and haul it alongside."

"Yes, sar."

"Cyd, take hold and help him. Haul it up to the foremast, and take it on deck."

The order was obeyed, though Cyd, in his terror, was not able to render much assistance. The bateau was taken on deck to assist the sailing of the Isabel, and also to prevent the pursuers from seizing it, if they should unfortunately come near enough to do so.

"Stop your boat, I say," yelled the slave-hunter, after they had pulled for a few moments with the most determined zeal.

"Can't stop!" replied Dan.

"Stop her, or I'll fire into you!"

"Gossifus!" exclaimed Cyd, whose teeth were still chattering with fear.

Dan made no reply, and concluded not to answer any more questions.

"Are ye go'n to stop her?" demanded the pursuer. "I b'lieve you've got that nigger on board; and if ye don't heave to, I'll fotch ye up with a bullet."

"Bring up the guns, Cyd," said Dan, with forced coolness.

"Wha—wha—wha——"

"The guns!" said Dan, fiercely, as he stamped his foot upon the flooring to emphasize his meaning.

"Gossifus! I done think—" But Cyd disappeared in the cabin without giving those on deck the benefit of his thoughts.

"Now, Lily, you must go into your cabin. Lie down in your berth, for they may fire upon us," said Dan. "Don't be alarmed; there are only three men in that boat, and we can certainly beat them off."

"I will not leave you, Dan. I am not afraid of the bullets. I only fear——"

At that moment the report of a gun startled them, and the ball whistled close by Dan's head.



CHAPTER XIV.

THE BATTLE FOR FREEDOM.

"Take the helm, Cyd, and mind how you steer!" said Dan, with earnestness, as he rose from his seat, and seized one of the guns.

"Hossifus!" exclaimed Cyd, aghast at the thought. "Wha—wha—wha——"

"Take the helm!" repeated the resolute skipper, with a decision which left no alternative for the boy.

"Possifus! Dis chile don't want to set dar, and be shooted."

"There is no more danger there than there is any where else. Take your place, and don't be a coward. If you want to be free, you must fight for it now."

"Golly! Dis nigger ain't afeered, but Cyd don't want to be shooted, kase you can't do widout Cyd."

But the trembling foremast hand took his place at the tiller. He continued to mutter to himself, as though he was repelling the charge of cowardice which had been fastened upon him.

"Come, Lily, you must go into your cabin now," added Dan, tenderly, as he turned to Lily. "This is no place for you."

"O, I'm not afraid of the guns, Dan; only of the slave-hunters, and I cannot hide myself from them."

"You may escape if you stay in the cabin, and you can do no good here. I shall feel better to know that you are in a place of safety."

"I'm not afraid, Dan; really, I am not," replied she, earnestly.

"But you are in our way here, Lily. Do go into your cabin, and lie down in your berth."

"I will if I am in the way."

"If we have to fight, it will be right here, and I am determined to resist to the last."

"I will go;" and Dan led her to the door of her cabin.

She entered, and threw herself upon the cushions of the berth, and Dan, satisfied that she was in a place of comparative safety, turned his attention to the defence of his party.

"Can you handle a gun?" said he, turning to Quin, who appeared to be as cool and resolute as the skipper.

"Well, I done shoot some," replied Quin.

"Take a gun, then."

"Wha—wha—wha——" gasped Cyd.

"Silence, Cyd! Keep both eyes on the sails, or I'll put a bullet through your head. I didn't expect you would be a coward at such a time as this."

"Dis chile ain't a coward," answered Cyd, rising from his seat.

"Sit down, and mind your helm then!"

"Give me de gun, and I'll show you Cyd ain't no coward, no how."

"You never fired a gun in your life. You would be more likely to shoot yourself than any body else. Mind your helm; that's all we want of you."

"Possifus! Dis chile ain't no coward, no how," growled Cyd, as he cast his eyes at the sails. "Fire away dar, and show dese folks Cyd's no coward!"

"Gwine to fire into dem folks in de boat?" asked Quin.

"I am, if occasion requires," replied Dan, as he discharged the gun he held in his hand in the direction of the pursuers. "But I want to let them know that we are armed, and able to give as good as they send. I don't want to kill any of them if I can help it."

"I don't mind killin ob 'em; dat's what dey done do to me if dey gits a chance."

"Stop your boat!" shouted one of the men again; and it was evident, from the tones of the speaker, that the report of the gun from the Isabel was not altogether favorable to the views of the pursuers.

Dan made no reply, but loaded up his gun for further use.

"Stop your boat, or we'll fire into you again," shouted the speaker.

"If you do you will get as good as you send," answered Dan, as he put the cap upon his piece.

The reply was followed by another shot from the slave-hunters; but the ball whistled far above the heads of the fugitives. Dan took deliberate aim at the boat, and fired, ordering Quin to do the same. So far as they could discover, neither of the shots took effect. From this time both parties kept up an occasional firing; but as the night was so dark, and the motion of the boats not favorable to a steady aim, no one in the Isabel was hit, and Dan and his companion were not aware of any different result to the other boat.

Cyd maintained his position at the helm with the steadiness of an old salt who had stood at the wheel in a hundred battles; and Dan, witnessing his improved demeanor, began to think his singular conduct had been the result of excitement rather than of timidity.

But one thing was painfully evident to all on board of the schooner—that the boat was gaining upon her, and that the wind was gradually dying out. There was no hope for them except in their own right arms. They must fight for liberty, fight for the rights which they had boldly reaessumed. Dan and Quin were fully determined upon this course, and if they could bring Cyd up to a sense of duty on this trying emergency, there would be some chance of success.

As it was, the odds were against them. The pursuers were probably men accustomed to the use of arms, while all in the Isabel were, to say the least, very indifferent marksmen. Hitherto, they had fired at a dark mass on the water, for they could not distinguish the enemy in the gloom of the night, and the pursuers had been subject to the same disadvantage. A nearer approach to each other of the contending parties, would enable both to obtain a more accurate aim, and the work of death could not be much longer postponed.

"De wind's clean gone," said Cyd, as the heavy sails of the Isabel began to flap idly in the brails.

"Cyd, you must fight!" added Dan, earnestly.

"Possifus!" exclaimed Cyd, rising and seizing a boat-hook that lay on the quarter. "Dis chile will fight, for sartin."

"Good, Cyd! You are a brave fellow! You deserve to be free, and you shall be."

"Hossifus! Don't tell Cyd he's a coward, kase he ain't no such ting, no how."

"I didn't mean that, Cyd; and I take it all back," added Dan. "The boat has lost her headway now. They will be upon us in a moment or two. Stand firm, Cyd, and break the head of any man that attempts to get into the boat."

"Yes, sar! Dat's jus what I'se gwine to do. I'll broke de head ob any nigger-hunter dat's gwine to come in dis boat, for sartin."

"Now, stoop down both of you, and let them fire over our heads as they come up."

Dan crouched down in the bottom of the Isabel, with the gun ready for use when the decisive moment should arrive; Quin and Cyd did the same, and the intrepid skipper proceeded to give them such instructions for repelling the assault as the occasion required. All of them were to keep their places till the pursuers were close alongside, when the four guns, which were ready for use, were to be discharged. They hoped this would be sufficient to drive them off. If it should not, a fifty-six pound weight, taken from the ballast in the run, was to be pitched into the boat, as she came alongside, which would break out a hole in its bottom, and sink it before the enemy could get on board; Cyd was then to do duty with his boat-hook, and the others with similar weapons.

The slave-hunters showed some hesitation in boarding the schooner. The guns which had been fired from her had undoubtedly inspired them with a proper respect for those on board of her. The Isabel lay with her sails hanging loosely from the gaffs for half an hour, and still the enemy did not come up to her.

"We's gwine to hab a shower," said Quin.

"And a squall too, I'm afraid," added Dan, as he cast his eyes anxiously over the rail, to observe a pile of dense black clouds, which had suddenly rolled up the midnight sky.

"Whar's de boat?" asked Cyd.

"She lies off here only a little way from us. If she will only keep still till we can get a breeze, we shall be all right."

"Let 'em come on; dis chile's all ready for 'em," replied Cyd.

"Have you got over being scared?"

"Never was skeered."

"You said you were."

"Cyd's only jokin den. I done feel so kinder stirred up. I done want to holler—make de nigger feel good."

"Hush! They are coming!" exclaimed Dan, whose quick eye detected a stealthy movement on the part of the boat.

"Hallo! In the boat, thar," shouted the slave-hunter.

"Well. What do you want?"

"We're go'n to come on board of yer."

"No, you are not. You are all dead men if you attempt it."

"What do you want to shoot us fur? We ain't a go'n to hurt yer."

"You fired first, you infernal chicken thieves! We know what you are," replied Dan, who thought it best to class them with these depredators—men who frequent the western and southern rivers, plundering boats or houses, as opportunity presents.

"We ain't no chicken thieves."

"Keep off. We know you," repeated Dan.

This conversation was followed by another pause, during which the careful skipper had another opportunity to examine the weather indications. They were decidedly unfavorable. It was probable that a squall, if not a tornado, would soon burst upon them, and he deemed it prudent, even at the risk of being shot, to haul down the jib-topsail, the staysail, and the gaff-topsails. This he succeeded in doing; but he had scarcely finished the job, without giving himself time to stow the extra sails, before he saw the boat of the pursuers dashing rapidly towards the Isabel. The slave-hunters had at last made up their minds what to do. They meant to risk the encounter.

Just then a sharp flash of lightning illumined the lake, followed by the muttering thunder. A few fitful flashes of lightning had before glared on the gloomy scene; but now it gleamed fiercely from the sombre clouds, and the heavy thunder rolled an almost incessant peal.

"Ready! Ready, now!" said Dan, earnestly, as he sighted his gun at the trio in the boat, which the lightning plainly revealed to him.

"All ready," replied Quin.

"Now give it to them," said Dan, as he discharged his gun, and grasped another.

Quin did the same. The pursuers' boat was not more than ten rods from them, but, from the want of skill in the marksmen, the discharge proved harmless.

"Put in! Put in!" yelled one of the slave-hunters. "Never mind their firing. They can't hit nothing."

Dan and Quin fired again.

"I'm hit!" roared one of the enemy, with a horrible oath. "Don't go no furder."

"Keep her a goin!" replied another. "We'll fix 'em in a minute now."

The boat dashed up towards the Isabel; but Dan, as soon as he had fired, leaped from his place, and seizing the fifty-six pound weight, plumped it full into the bottom of the boat. The fugitives heard the pine boards crash, as the weight broke its way through, and went to the bottom of the lake.

"Stand by, now!" shouted Dan, as he seized his club, and dealt a heavy blow upon the head of the slave-hunter who was in the act of leaping on board the schooner.

"We're sinkin!" cried another of them; and the gunwale of the bateau in which they sailed was nearly submerged.



They had no time to act upon the aggressive; it was all they could do to secure their own safety. Just then, the expected squall struck the Isabel, and though Dan had before cast off all the sheets, she careened over till the water flowed into the standing room. Her watchful skipper sprung to the helm, and in an instant she righted partially, and darted forward like a steed pricked with the spur.

"We are safe!" exclaimed Dan, as Lily rushed from her cabin, startled by the exciting events which had just transpired.



CHAPTER XV.

THE FATE OF THE SLAVE-HUNTERS.

"Haul down the foresail, Cyd!" shouted Dan, as the Isabel gathered way, and forged ahead. "Be quick, but be careful of yourself."

With the assistance of Quin, Cyd got the foresail in, though it was not without a deal of hard tugging, for the wind now blew a fierce gale. As soon as sail was thus reduced, the sheets of the jib and mainsail were secured, and the schooner lay down to her work, dashing through the water at a furious rate.

"We are all right now, Lily," said Dan. "Go into your cabin again, or you will be blown away."

"Were any of you hurt in the fight?" asked she, as loud as she could scream, for the wind howled fearfully through the rigging of the schooner.

"No, we are all well and hearty. Go to the cabin, Lily."

She returned to her place of security, and seemed to be satisfied that the hour of peril had passed, for the thunder and the lightning, the dashing waves and the roaring wind, had no terrors compared with those produced by the presence of the slave-hunters.

The Isabel labored fearfully in the heavy squall, and it was only by the exercise of all his skill that Dan could keep her right side up. He was obliged, as the gusts of wind struck her, to ease off the sheets, and to luff her up. By the glare of the blinding lightning he obtained the position of the boat in the lake, or he might have run her on shore, and, with the beautiful craft, wrecked all the hopes of his party.

"Here, Cyd and Quin, stand by to reef this mainsail! We can't stand this long," said Dan, as he threw the Isabel up into the wind.

"Possifus!" yelled Cyd, above the howling of the tempest. "We all go to de bottom, for sartin."

"No, we won't; stand by, and work lively. Let go the peak halyards," replied he, as he cast off the throat halyards, on the other side. "Haul down the sail as fast as you can, Quin."

With the jib still drawing full, the Isabel continued steadily on her course, while Dan and Cyd put a double reef in the mainsail, Quin standing at the helm in the mean time, and acting under the direction of the skipper.

"Now, up with it," added Dan, when the reef-points were all taken up.

The mainsail was hoisted, and again the Isabel dashed madly on her course, for she had now all the sail she could carry in that fierce blow. Dan stood at the helm, with his eyes measuring the distances, as the vivid lightning revealed the bearings of the shores. Cyd was ordered to the forecastle to keep a sharp lookout ahead, while Quin was directed to bale out the boat, for at least a hogshead of water had poured in over the side when the flaw struck her.

The wind came in heavy gusts, each one of which threatened to "knock down" the Isabel; and if her skipper had not been a thorough boatman, such must have been her fate. By skilfully meeting the flaws as they struck her, he prevented her from capsizing. Under ordinary circumstances he would have deemed it highly imprudent to carry any sail, and would have anchored the boat with a long cable; but this was the battle of Freedom, and success was worth any risk and any peril which it might require.

The tempest, however, was of short duration. When the rain began to pour in torrents, the gale subsided. The reefs were shaken out, and, finally, the foresail was set again. The wind continued to blow pretty fresh, but all danger was at an end.

"What you 'pose come ob dem men?" asked Quin, as he finished his task of baling out the boat.

"I don't know; but I feel confident that not all of them are able to tell what has happened to them."

"One of them was hit wid de shot," added Quin.

"And I struck one over the head with a fender."

"Dem two mus be gone killed dead for sure," said Quin, with solemn earnestness.

"Of course it was not possible for them to get ashore, for their boat was stove all to pieces. Do you know them, Quin?"

"Yes, sar; dey's all nigger-hunters."

"Could they swim?"

"I dunno; but I s'peck dey could."

"It would not make much difference whether they could or not. The wind blew a hurricane for a few moments."

"Quin tinks dey must be all dead," replied the man, shaking his head.

"I'm afraid they are; but it was not our fault. If I thought they were, I would not go down the lake any farther," added Dan, musing.

"I feels almost sartin dey's gone to dar reward—'may de good Lo'd hab mercy on dar sinful souls.'"

Dan considered the question for a time in silence, and finally determined to put the boat about, and head her for his destination at the north-westerly corner of the lake. The rain still came down in torrents; but as all on deck were provided with rubber coats, belonging to the boat, which had been provided for the use of the planter and his guests on board, they did not suffer, and were not even very uncomfortable. But if they had been, it would not have been regarded as a serious matter, amid the fierce excitements of that eventful night.

The storm was nothing more than one of those sudden showers which come up so unexpectedly at the south. We once passed through a tornado in Louisiana, which came in a shower that gathered upon a blue sky in less than half an hour. It tore up tall trees as though they had been cornstalks, and rolled up the Mississippi so that it looked like a boiling caldron. In half an hour more the sun was shining gayly on the scene of devastation, as though Nature had no terrors in her laboratory of forces.

In an hour after the exciting scene on the lake, the Isabel had a gentle breeze and fair weather. Cyd still maintained his position on the forecastle, and Lily once more ventured into the standing room. Dan gave her a minute account of the affray with the slave-hunters, and concluded by stating his belief that all three of them had been drowned in the lake.

Lily shuddered at the thought; for the taking of a human life, even in defence of the freedom which she valued more highly than life itself, seemed a terrible thing to her gentle heart.

"Perhaps they are not dead," said she.

"Perhaps not; but it is hardly possible that they could have swum ashore. We were at least three miles from the land, and their boat was all stove to pieces."

"Dey might hab hold on to de boat," suggested Quin.

"But there was an awful sea for a few moments. Why, the water dashed clean over our decks," added Dan. "One of them may have saved himself, but I am confident the other two must have been lost."

"Hi, Dan!" shouted Cyd, from his position at the heel of the bowsprit.

"What is it, Cyd?"

"Dar's someting ober dar," added Cyd, pointing over to leeward, as he walked aft.

"What is it?"

"Cyd tinks it's de boat ob de slabe-hunters."

"Perhaps it is," said Dan, musing. "And our wounded or dying enemies may be clinging to it. Shall we save them?"

"Hossifus! Dey kill us ef we does," exclaimed Cyd.

"'Lub your enemies,'" said Quin, piously. "Let us sabe dem if we can. We kin tie dar hands and fotch 'em ober dar."

"I don't think they are there."

"We must save their lives," added the gentle Lily.

"And perhaps lose our own; but I will overhaul the boat, to satisfy myself whether the men were lost or not," said Dan, as he let out the main sheet, and put up the helm. "Stand by with the boat-hook, Cyd."

In a few moments the Isabel had run up to the wreck of the boat, and Cyd grappled it with the boat-hook. There were no men clinging to it, but in the bottom of the boat, covered over with water, lay the body of one of the slave-hunters. It was probably the one who had been shot. He had not been killed at once, for he had spoken after he was hit; it looked as though he had been drowned in the bottom of the boat where he lay.

The fugitives were filled with horror at this discovery. Poor Lily had nearly fainted, and if Cyd had been shot himself, he could hardly have made a stronger demonstration. Quin uttered many pious ejaculations, showing that he had, from his heart, forgiven this man, who, an hour before, had thirsted for his blood. Dan, though not less impressed than his companions, was calm and resolute.

"This body may betray us," said he. "We must sink it in the lake."

"Ugh!" exclaimed Cyd, with a thrill of horror.

"We have no time to spare," added Dan, briskly. "Bring up another fifty-six, Quin."

The weight was brought up and tied to the corpse of the slave-hunter, as it lay in the boat. Dan then ordered his companions to tip the boat over; but Quin, asking for a moment's delay, threw himself upon his knees, and commenced an earnest prayer in behalf of the deceased, supplicating forgiveness for his bloodthirsty enemy. Dan listened reverently to the prayer, while Lily sobbed as though the departed slave-hunter had been her dearest friend, instead of the bitter foe of her race.

The service was ended; the boat was careened till the body rolled out, and disappeared in the depths of the lake.

"May de good Lo'd hab mercy on his poor, sinful soul, for de lub of Jesus' sake!" exclaimed Quin, as the corpse sank to its resting-place.

"Make fast the boat to that cleat on the quarter, Cyd," said Dan, as he hauled aft the sheets, and put his helm down.

Cyd obeyed, and the Isabel filled away upon her course again. Lily was calmer now, but she was still much impressed by the solemn and awful scene of which she had just been a witness.

"It's all over now, Lily. Don't think any more about it," said Dan, in soothing tones.

"It is terrible—isn't it, Dan?" replied she, with a shudder.

"It is, Lily; but there was no help for it. All that we have done was in self-defence."

"But it is awful to think of killing them."

"It is better as it is than if we had let them take us."

"Did you really mean to kill them, Dan?"

"Not if I could help it; but I would have killed a dozen of them rather than be carried back into slavery."

"We didn't kill 'em, Missy Lily," interposed Quin. "Dey done drownded. De good Lo'd strike 'em down jus like he did de 'Gyptians in de Red Sea, in de midst ob dar wickedness. We didn't kill 'em, Missy Lily."

"That's it, Lily," added Dan, indorsing the explanation, though the religious aspect of the case was not so strongly impressed upon his mind as upon that of his pious companion.

"We might have saved them," continued the gentle-hearted girl, who derived but little consolation from the words of Quin. "You might have taken them on board when the squall came."

"Why, Lily, I had just smashed their boat with my own hands, and I wasn't going to put my head into the lion's mouth. It is best as it is, Lily. The death of these men will remove all danger from our path, for no one has seen us except them."

"But how awful!" sighed she.

"I told you, Lily, before we started, that terrible things might happen to us. You shall be free; let this thought comfort you."

But it did not comfort her, and she continued to bewail the catastrophe that had befallen the slave-hunters till the attention of her companions was called to the position of the Isabel.

"Dar's land on de bof sides of us," called Cyd, who had again been stationed at the heel of the bowsprit to act as lookout man.

"All right! I see it," responded Dan. "Quin, let go the foresail halyards. How does it look ahead, Cyd?"

"Dark as de back of dis chile's hand."

"Look out sharp!"

"Do dat, for sartin."

The Isabel continued slowly on her course, for the woods on the shore now began to shelter the sails from the full force of the wind. The corner of the lake grew narrower with every moment she advanced, till the boat was not more than a couple of rods from either shore. She was running up one of the tributaries of the lake.

Presently the creek was less than thirty feet wide; and having passed round a bend so as to hide her from the open lake, Dan ordered his companions to make fast to a tree, as he ran her up to the shore.



CHAPTER XVI.

IN THE SWAMP.

The place where the Isabel had been moored was in the midst of a gloomy and extensive swamp. Though Dan had never been here before, he had heard of the region, and from the first had determined to conceal his party within its deep and almost impenetrable morasses. The swamp was about fifteen miles in extent from north to south, and ten from east to west. It was full of bayous and lagoons, and inhabited only by herons, alligators, and other wild animals of the south-west.

It was impossible to penetrate the swamp without a boat, for the terra firma of the region consisted only of islands covered with trees, most of them surrounded by shallow and muddy waters. It is doubtful whether any human being had ever fully explored this extensive swamp; and Dan was confident that, if he could succeed in making his way with the Isabel to a distance of two or three miles from the lake, his party would be free from intrusion, unless, indeed, the slave-hunters made a business of driving them from their covert.

The information of the leader of the expedition in regard to the swamp was exceedingly limited. All he knew had been derived from Colonel Raybone, who, in conversation with some of his friends, had mentioned the region, and given a partial description of it. He had learned that the bayou, which was the outlet of the waters of the swamp, was obstructed by fallen timber a short distance from the lake. As runaway slaves could not live in this desolate place, there had been no occasion to pursue them into its deep recesses.

The party on board the Isabel were very much fatigued by the labor and excitement of the night; and when the schooner was safely moored, Dan declared that nothing more should be done until the party had rested themselves. It was not yet daylight, and the boat was in a secure position.

"But we must not all go to sleep," added Dan. "I intend to keep a watch night and day while we stay in this place, if it should be for a year."

"Hossifus! What's de use of keepin de watch?" yawned Cyd, as he stretched himself, and opened his mouth wide enough to take in a small alligator.

"Suppose half a dozen slave-hunters should come up here while we are all asleep!" replied Dan, sharply.

"'Pose dey come when we're all awake—what den?"

"We can beat them off, as we did those last night."

"Gossifus! Some ob us git killed for shore, if dey keep shooten wid de guns."

"Better die than be taken, Cyd. We must believe this before we can be sure of success."

"Dat's what I's gwine to do," added Quin. "Dis chile will fight till dey ain't notin lef ob him—ye kin be shore ob dat."

"Possifus! Den, if you's all gwine to fight, Cyd ain't gwine to be out ob de fashion, for sartin. I's don't know much about de guns, but Cyd kin split a two-inch plank a buttin agin it. I's can't shoot, but I can butt," grinned Cyd. "You kin bet your life dis chile ain't no coward, no how."

"You did very well last night, Cyd, and I hope you will stand up to your principles," said Dan.

"What's dem?"

"What do you think, Cyd?"

"Hossifus! Cyd tinks he's sleepy," yawned he, opening his mouth in a fearful gape. "I's stand up to dat, for shore."

"Very well; but one of us shall stand watch while the others sleep. Which shall it be?"

"I'll be de fus. I done sleep some last night," said Quin. "You didn't shet your eyes once."

"Whose turn next?"

"Cyd's, for sartin. You'm did a big ting last night, Dan. We all done gwine to de bottom ob de lake, or de nigger-hunters hab us for shore, if 'twan't for you, Dan. You kin sleep all day."

"I'm very tired, and need rest, for we have hard work before us; but you must keep awake, whoever is on the watch. Our lives depend upon the man on the watch."

"You kin trust me, Dan," replied Quin.

"So you kin me," added Cyd.

Dan examined all the guns, to see that they were in condition for immediate use, and then turned in, to obtain the rest he so much needed. Lily had already retired, and before the weary skipper could close his eyes, Cyd was snoring like a sleepy alligator.

Quin was tired and sleepy, as well as his companions; but it was a matter of conscience with him to keep awake. He walked up and down the standing room in his bare feet, that the noise might not disturb the sleepers, to guard against the possibility of being unfaithful to the solemn duty which had been imposed upon him. The sun rose bright and clear, and the solitary sentinel still kept vigil over the sleeping party in the cabin. Two hours, four hours, elapsed, and Quin still paced the deck. It was full six hours before the sleepers showed any signs of life.

Lily was the first to wake and come on deck. In a whisper she told Quin to go to his berth, and permit her to keep the watch. At first he objected; but her persistence finally overcame his scruples, and he crept softly to his bunk in the forward cabin. In a few moments he was sleeping as soundly as the rest. The two boys were physically incapable of going without their rest. They were growing, and to sit up all night, filled with anxiety and excitement, was more than they could bear without Nature's strongest protest.

They slept hour after hour, and Lily faithfully performed her duty as sentinel over them. The swamp was as still as the house of death; not a sound was to be heard, for even the alligators were motionless, as they sunned themselves upon the dead logs of the lagoons.

Dan, having slept eight hours strong, was the first to appear on deck. As he looked at his watch he was surprised to find it so late, and surprised to find Lily acting as watch on deck. His orders had been disregarded; but Lily was too powerful an advocate with him to permit any blame to be cast upon his companions. She persuaded him that every thing which had been done was for the best. Cyd soon after made his appearance, having slept all he could at one stretch, and the boys proceeded to get breakfast. Ham and eggs, coffee and toast, constituted the repast, prepared by the skilful hand of Lily, though she was assisted by her willing friends.

Quin did not wake till the meal was ready to be put upon the table; and the party all sat down to this princely banquet in the forward cabin, with the feeling that they were fortunate beyond all other fugitives that had ever escaped to the swamp.

After breakfast—or rather dinner, if we designate the meal by the time of day—Lily insisted upon her right to clear off the table and wash the dishes, which was yielded after some discussion, though with the proviso that Cyd should assist in the heavy work. While they were thus engaged, Dan and Quin took the bateau, which had been put into the water before dinner, and rowed up the bayou to explore the region above them. Finding an unobstructed passage for about two miles, they returned.

By this time the work of the housekeepers was finished, and the labor of towing the Isabel up the bayou was commenced. As the water was very shallow in some places, they had to follow the channel; and it was sundown when they had moored her to the point they had reached in the bateau.

"That will do very well," said Dan, as they made her fast to a tree.

"De nigger-hunters neber find us here, for sartin," added Cyd, as he dashed the sweat from his brow.

"We are not in a safe place yet," continued Dan. "But we are in no hurry, and we won't do any more to-day. Let us have supper and go to bed."

Lily had already made the tea, and had every thing in a forward state of preparation.

After supper, the important question of the watch came up again for consideration.

"We may as well settle this matter once for all," said Dan. "I suppose six hours' sleep is enough for any of us."

"Plenty," added Quin.

"Dunno," said Cyd, shaking his head, and gaping as though he had not slept any for a week. "Dis chile allus goes to sleep at eight, and wakes up at five. How long's dat, Dan?"

"Nine hours; that's enough for a hog."

"Nuff for a nigger too."

"I have got a plan all ready, and if you agree to it we will adopt it," added Dan.

"You's de cap'n, and weder we 'gree to it or not, you mus hab your own way," continued Cyd.

"Not at all. We'll have no captain here. We are not at sea, and we will all be equal. What we do will be for our own safety. I intend to keep my watch, and do my share of the work; so you needn't grumble, Cyd."

"Possifus! Cyd neber grubble in his life."

"You seem to think that I want to make you do more than your share."

"No, sar! I's tink you do more'n your share, Dan. Cyd ain't notin but a nigger, and you's almos' a gen'leman."

"Come, come, Cyd. I shall be angry if you talk in that way. I am just the same as the rest of you."

"Hossifus! Wha—wha—wha——"

"That'll do, Cyd."

"You's got all de brains, and knows jes what to do and where to go. Gossifus! Wha—wha—what become ob us widout Dan?"