The Negro Being Resolute, There Was Now No Alternative But To Go To The House, On Arriving At Which, I Met With Such A Reception As I Had Feared And Anticipated.

Three fierce dogs of the mastiff breed, regularly trained to hunting fugitive negroes, rushed out upon me.

I had only a small riding whip with me, having left my fire-arms with a friend at Fort Andrews, and much dreaded laceration. Their noise soon brought out a ferocious, lank-visaged-looking man, about forty years of age, who immediately called off the dogs; but before I had time to make the inquiry that brought me there, he began in about the following strain,

"What dye yer waunt up yar, stranger? Arter no good, I guess; you'd better put it 'bout straight. I see'd yer torking to the hands yonder - none o' yer 'mancipator doctrines yar."

The fellow's address "struck me all of a heap," as he would himself have said, had he been in my situation; he spoke so fast, that I could not edge in a word; at last I stated the cause of my intrusion, but he would not believe a word, ordered me to quit the plantation or he would set the dogs on me, and was getting into such an ungovernable rage, that I thought it would be wise to follow his advice. So I slowly retreated to the yard entrance by which I had come in. Returning to my companions at the cross-roads, I found that, in my absence, a passer-by had given them the wished-for information, and we pushed on to a house of call, a few miles distant.

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