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Chapter: FORD'S EMBARRASSMENTS--THE SALE TO TIBEATS--THE CHATTEL
  MORTGAGE--MISTRESS FORD'S PLANTATION ON BAYOU BOEUF--DESCRIPTION
  OF THE LATTER--FORD'S BROTHER-IN-LAW, PETER TANNER--MEETING
  WITH ELIZA--SHE STILL MOURNS FOR HER CHILDREN--FORD'S OVERSEER,
  CHAPIN--TIBEAT'S ABUSE--THE KEG OF NAILS--THE FIRST FIGHT WITH
  TIBEATS--HIS DISCOMFITURE AND CASTIGATION--THE ATTEMPT TO HANG
  ME--CHAPIN'S INTERFERENCE AND SPEECH--UNHAPPY REFLECTIONS--ABRUPT
  DEPARTURE OF TIBEATS, COOK AND RAMSAY--LAWSON AND THE BROWN
  MULE--MESSAGE TO THE PINE WOODS.

William Ford unfortunately became embarrassed in his pecuniary
affairs. A heavy judgment was rendered against him in consequence of
his having become security for his brother, Franklin Ford, residing
on Red River, above Alexandria, and who had failed to meet his
liabilities. He was also indebted to John M. Tibeats to a considerable
amount in consideration of his services in building the mills on
Indian Creek, and also a weaving-house, corn-mill and other erections
on the plantation at Bayou Boeuf, not yet completed. It was therefore
necessary, in order to meet these demands, to dispose of eighteen
slaves, myself among the number. Seventeen of them, including Sam and
Harry, were purchased by Peter Compton, a planter also residing on Red
River.

I was sold to Tibeats, in consequence, undoubtedly, of my slight skill
as a carpenter. This was in the winter of 1842. The deed of myself
from Freeman to Ford, as I ascertained from the public records in
New-Orleans on my return, was dated June 23d, 1841. At the time of my
sale to Tibeats, the price agreed to be given for me being more than
the debt, Ford took a chattel mortgage of four hundred dollars. I am
indebted for my life, as will hereafter be seen, to that mortgage.

I bade farewell to my good friends at the opening, and departed with
my new master Tibeats. We went down to the plantation on Bayou Boeuf,
distant twenty-seven miles from the Pine Woods, to complete the
unfinished contract. Bayou Boeuf is a sluggish, winding stream--one
of those stagnant bodies of water common in that region, setting back
from Red River. It stretches from a point not far from Alexandria, in
a south-easterly direction, and following its tortuous course, is more
than fifty miles in length. Large cotton and sugar plantations line
each shore, extending back to the borders of interminable swamps. It
is alive with alligators, rendering it unsafe for swine, or unthinking
slave children to stroll along its banks. Upon a bend in this bayou, a
short distance from Cheneyville, was situated the plantation of Madam
Ford--her brother, Peter Tanner, a great landholder, living on the
opposite side.

On my arrival at Bayou Boeuf, I had the pleasure of meeting Eliza,
whom I had not seen for several months. She had not pleased Mrs.
Ford, being more occupied in brooding over her sorrows than in
attending to her business, and had, in consequence, been sent down
to work in the field on the plantation. She had grown feeble and
emaciated, and was still mourning for her children. She asked me if
I had forgotten them, and a great many times inquired if I still
remembered how handsome little Emily was--how much Randall loved
her--and wondered if they were living still, and where the darlings
could then be. She had sunk beneath the weight of an excessive grief.
Her drooping form and hollow cheeks too plainly indicated that she had
well nigh reached the end of her weary road.

Ford's overseer on this plantation, and who had the exclusive
charge of it, was a Mr. Chapin, a kindly-disposed man, and a native
of Pennsylvania. In common with others, he held Tibeats in light
estimation, which fact, in connection with the four hundred dollar
mortgage, was fortunate for me.

I was now compelled to labor very hard. From earliest dawn until late
at night, I was not allowed to be a moment idle. Notwithstanding
which, Tibeats was never satisfied. He was continually cursing and
complaining. He never spoke to me a kind word. I was his faithful
slave, and earned him large wages every day, and yet I went to my
cabin nightly, loaded with abuse and stinging epithets.

We had completed the corn mill, the kitchen, and so forth, and were
at work upon the weaving-house, when I was guilty of an act, in that
State punishable with death. It was my first fight with Tibeats. The
weaving-house we were erecting stood in the orchard a few rods from
the residence of Chapin, or the "great house," as it was called. One
night, having worked until it was too dark to see, I was ordered by
Tibeats to rise very early in the morning, procure a keg of nails
from Chapin, and commence putting on the clapboards. I retired to the
cabin extremely tired, and having cooked a supper of bacon and corn
cake, and conversed a while with Eliza, who occupied the same cabin,
as also did Lawson and his wife Mary, and a slave named Bristol, laid
down upon the ground floor, little dreaming of the sufferings that
awaited me on the morrow. Before daylight I was on the piazza of the
"great house," awaiting the appearance of overseer Chapin. To have
aroused him from his slumbers and stated my errand, would have been
an unpardonable boldness. At length he came out. Taking off my hat,
I informed him Master Tibeats had directed me to call upon him for
a keg of nails. Going into the store-room, he rolled it out, at the
same time saying, if Tibeats preferred a different size, he would
endeavor to furnish them, but that I might use those until further
directed. Then mounting his horse, which stood saddled and bridled
at the door, he rode away into the field, whither the slaves had
preceded him, while I took the keg on my shoulder, and proceeding to
the weaving-house, broke in the head, and commenced nailing on the
clapboards.

As the day began to open, Tibeats came out of the house to where I
was, hard at work. He seemed to be that morning even more morose and
disagreeable than usual. He was my master, entitled by law to my flesh
and blood, and to exercise over me such tyrannical control as his mean
nature prompted; but there was no law that could prevent my looking
upon him with intense contempt. I despised both his disposition and
his intellect. I had just come round to the keg for a further supply
of nails, as he reached the weaving-house.

"I thought I told you to commence putting on weather-boards this
morning," he remarked.

"Yes, master, and I am about it," I replied.

"Where?" he demanded.

"On the other side," was my answer.

He walked round to the other side, examined my work for a while,
muttering to himself in a fault-finding tone.

"Didn't I tell you last night to get a keg of nails of Chapin?" he
broke forth again.

"Yes, master, and so I did; and overseer said he would get another
size for you, if you wanted them, when he came back from the field."

Tibeats walked to the keg, looked a moment at the contents, then
kicked it violently. Coming towards me in a great passion, he
exclaimed,

"G--d d--n you! I thought you _knowed_ something."

I made answer: "I tried to do as you told me, master. I didn't mean
anything wrong. Overseer said--" But he interrupted me with such a
flood of curses that I was unable to finish the sentence. At length he
ran towards the house, and going to the piazza, took down one of the
overseer's whips. The whip had a short wooden stock, braided over with
leather, and was loaded at the butt. The lash was three feet long, or
thereabouts, and made of raw-hide strands.

At first I was somewhat frightened, and my impulse was to run. There
was no one about except Rachel, the cook, and Chapin's wife, and
neither of them were to be seen. The rest were in the field. I knew he
intended to whip me, and it was the first time any one had attempted
it since my arrival at Avoyelles. I felt, moreover, that I had been
faithful--that I was guilty of no wrong whatever, and deserved
commendation rather than punishment. My fear changed to anger, and
before he reached me I had made up my mind fully not to be whipped,
let the result be life or death.

Winding the lash around his hand, and taking hold of the small end of
the stock, he walked up to me, and with a malignant look, ordered me
to strip.

"Master Tibeats" said I, looking him boldly in the face, "I will
_not_." I was about to say something further in justification, but
with concentrated vengeance, he sprang upon me, seizing me by the
throat with one hand, raising the whip with the other, in the act of
striking. Before the blow descended, however, I had caught him by
the collar of the coat, and drawn him closely to me. Reaching down,
I seized him by the ankle, and pushing him back with the other hand,
he fell over on the ground. Putting one arm around his leg, and
holding it to my breast, so that his head and shoulders only touched
the ground, I placed my foot upon his neck. He was completely in my
power. My blood was up. It seemed to course through my veins like
fire. In the frenzy of my madness I snatched the whip from his hand.
He struggled with all his power; swore that I should not live to see
another day; and that he would tear out my heart. But his struggles
and his threats were alike in vain. I cannot tell how many times I
struck him. Blow after blow fell fast and heavy upon his wriggling
form. At length he screamed--cried murder--and at last the blasphemous
tyrant called on God for mercy. But he who had never shown mercy did
not receive it. The stiff stock of the whip warped round his cringing
body until my right arm ached.

Until this time I had been too busy to look about me. Desisting for a
moment, I saw Mrs. Chapin looking from the window, and Rachel standing
in the kitchen door. Their attitudes expressed the utmost excitement
and alarm. His screams had been heard in the field. Chapin was coming
as fast as he could ride. I struck him a blow or two more, then pushed
him from me with such a well-directed kick that he went rolling over
on the ground.

Rising to his feet, and brushing the dirt from his hair, he stood
looking at me, pale with rage. We gazed at each other in silence. Not
a word was uttered until Chapin galloped up to us.

"What is the matter?" he cried out.

"Master Tibeats wants to whip me for using the nails you gave me," I
replied.

"What is the matter with the nails?" he inquired, turning to Tibeats.

Tibeats answered to the effect that they were too large, paying little
heed, however, to Chapin's question, but still keeping his snakish
eyes fastened maliciously on me.

"I am overseer here," Chapin began. "I told Platt to take them and
use them, and if they were not of the proper size I would get others
on returning from the field. It is not his fault. Besides, I shall
furnish such nails as I please. I hope you will understand _that_, Mr.
Tibeats."

Tibeats made no reply, but, grinding his teeth and shaking his fist,
swore he would have satisfaction, and that it was not half over yet.
Thereupon he walked away, followed by the overseer, and entered the
house, the latter talking to him all the while in a suppressed tone,
and with earnest gestures.

I remained where I was, doubting whether it was better to fly or abide
the result, whatever it might be. Presently Tibeats came out of the
house, and, saddling his horse, the only property he possessed besides
myself, departed on the road to Cheneyville.

When he was gone, Chapin came out, visibly excited, telling me not to
stir, not to attempt to leave the plantation on any account whatever.
He then went to the kitchen, and calling Rachel out, conversed with
her some time. Coming back, he again charged me with great earnestness
not to run, saying my master was a rascal; that he had left on no
good errand, and that there might be trouble before night. But at all
events, he insisted upon it, I must not stir.

As I stood there, feelings of unutterable agony overwhelmed me. I was
conscious that I had subjected myself to unimaginable punishment. The
reaction that followed my extreme ebullition of anger produced the
most painful sensations of regret. An unfriended, helpless slave--what
could I _do_, what could I _say_, to justify, in the remotest manner,
the heinous act I had committed, of resenting a _white_ man's
contumely and abuse. I tried to pray--I tried to beseech my Heavenly
Father to sustain me in my sore extremity, but emotion choked my
utterance, and I could only bow my head upon my hands and weep. For
at least an hour I remained in this situation, finding relief only
in tears, when, looking up, I beheld Tibeats, accompanied by two
horsemen, coming down the bayou. They rode into the yard, jumped from
their horses, and approached me with large whips, one of them also
carrying a coil of rope.

"Cross your hands," commanded Tibeats, with the addition of such a
shuddering expression of blasphemy as is not decorous to repeat.

"You need not bind me, Master Tibeats, I am ready to go with you
anywhere," said I.

One of his companions then stepped forward, swearing if I made the
least resistance he would break my head--he would tear me limb from
limb--he would cut my black throat--and giving wide scope to other
similar expressions. Perceiving any importunity altogether vain, I
crossed my hands, submitting humbly to whatever disposition they might
please to make of me. Thereupon Tibeats tied my wrists, drawing the
rope around them with his utmost strength. Then he bound my ankles
in the same manner. In the meantime the other two had slipped a cord
within my elbows, running it across my back, and tying it firmly. It
was utterly impossible to move hand or foot. With a remaining piece of
rope Tibeats made an awkward noose, and placed it about my neck.

"Now, then," inquired one of Tibeats' companions, "where shall we hang
the nigger?"

One proposed such a limb, extending from the body of a peach tree,
near the spot where we were standing. His comrade objected to it,
alleging it would break, and proposed another. Finally they fixed upon
the latter.

During this conversation, and all the time they were binding me, I
uttered not a word. Overseer Chapin, during the progress of the scene,
was walking hastily back and forth on the piazza. Rachel was crying
by the kitchen door, and Mrs. Chapin was still looking from the
window. Hope died within my heart. Surely my time had come. I should
never behold the light of another day--never behold the faces of my
children--the sweet anticipation I had cherished with such fondness. I
should that hour struggle through the fearful agonies of death! None
would mourn for me--none revenge me. Soon my form would be mouldering
in that distant soil, or, perhaps, be cast to the slimy reptiles
that filled the stagnant waters of the bayou! Tears flowed down my
cheeks, but they only afforded a subject of insulting comment for my
executioners.

[Illustration: CHAPIN RESCUES SOLOMON FROM HANGING.]

At length, as they were dragging me towards the tree, Chapin, who had
momentarily disappeared from the piazza, came out of the house and
walked towards us. He had a pistol in each hand, and as near as I can
now recall to mind, spoke in a firm, determined manner, as follows:

"Gentlemen, I have a few words to say. You had better listen to them.
Whoever moves that slave another foot from where he stands is a dead
man. In the first place, he does not deserve this treatment. It is
a shame to murder him in this manner. I never knew a more faithful
boy than Platt. You, Tibeats, are in the fault yourself. You are
pretty much of a scoundrel, and I know it, and you richly deserve the
flogging you have received. In the next place, I have been overseer
on this plantation seven years, and, in the absence of William Ford,
am master here. My duty is to protect his interests, and that duty I
shall perform. You are not responsible--you are a worthless fellow.
Ford holds a mortgage on Platt of four hundred dollars. If you hang
him he loses his debt. Until that is canceled you have no right to
take his life. You have no right to take it any way. There is a law
for the slave as well as for the white man. You are no better than a
murderer.

"As for you," addressing Cook and Ramsay, a couple of overseers from
neighboring plantations, "as for you--begone! If you have any regard
for your own safety, I say, begone."

Cook and Ramsay, without a further word, mounted their horses and rode
away. Tibeats, in a few minutes, evidently in fear, and overawed by
the decided tone of Chapin, sneaked off like a coward, as he was, and
mounting his horse, followed his companions.

I remained standing where I was, still bound, with the rope around my
neck. As soon as they were gone, Chapin called Rachel, ordering her to
run to the field, and tell Lawson to hurry to the house without delay,
and bring the brown mule with him, an animal much prized for its
unusual fleetness. Presently the boy appeared.

"Lawson," said Chapin, "you must go to the Pine Woods. Tell your
master Ford to come here at once--that he must not delay a single
moment. Tell him they are trying to murder Platt. Now hurry, boy. Be
at the Pine Woods by noon if you kill the mule."

Chapin stepped into the house and wrote a pass. When he returned,
Lawson was at the door, mounted on his mule. Receiving the pass, he
plied the whip right smartly to the beast, dashed out of the yard, and
turning up the bayou on a hard gallop, in less time than it has taken
me to describe the scene, was out of sight.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Unfortunately, Ford's financial situation begins to deteriorate and he has to sell Solomon to Tibeats due to Solomon's skill as a carpenter. Ford does take out four hundred dollars in excess of what he sold Solomon for, which will prove crucial later. Tibeats takes Solomon down to Bayou Boeuf to continue working on the unfinished contract for Ford. Bayou Boeuf is sluggish, stagnant, and teming with alligators. Plantations line each side; Mistress Ford's is here, as is that of Peter Tanner, her brother. At Bayou Boeuf, Solomon meets with Eliza, who did not please Mistress Ford because all she did was brood and sulk all day. She does not look well; she droops and spends her time remembering her children. Ford's overseer here is Mr. Chapin, a friendly man who has no love for Tibeats. Solomon must labor very hard from dawn until dusk and never seems to please Tibeats, who curses and complains. The two of them have their first major conflict when Tibeats orders Solomon to procure nails from Chapin and start putting on clapboards. Solomon sets off on his errand but does not want to wake Chapin, so he waits until he arises. Solomon then begins nailing the clapboards, but Tibeats comes to him and irritably asks why he is not further along. Solomon explains, but Tibeats grows angry and cuts him off. He then procures the whip and moves toward Solomon. Solomon and Tibeats are alone. Everyone else is in the field; Rachel and Mrs. Chapin are somewhere close but out of view. Solomon is frustrated because he knows he did nothing wrong. He considers running but decides against it. His anger mounts, and he tells Tibeats he will not strip his clothes. Tibeats goes to strike him, but Solomon catches his collar, throws him down, places his foot on his back, and whips him over and over again. Tibeats screams, and Solomon looks up to see Mrs. Chapin and Rachel. Chapin gallops up quickly, and Solomon explains about the nails. Chapin rebukes Tibeats; Tibeats groans and sneers that he will have revenge. He leaves. Solomon does not know whether to fly or stay for the punishment. Chapin goes inside and then comes back out in a rush. He tells Solomon not to go anywhere and fears that Tibeats will be back soon. Solomon realizes how stupid he has been and fears for his life. Tibeats and two other horsemen arrive. They are carrying whips and a long coil of rope. Solomon knows his fate, and he walks down to them. His feet and hands are bound, and the noose put around his neck. Solomon can see Chapin pacing up and down the piazza, Rachel crying, and Mrs. Chapin peering out the window. He is certain it is the time for his death. Suddenly he sees Chapin striding purposefully toward them with two pistols. He addresses the men evenly and tells them they'd better listen. He states that Platt is a faithful slave and Tibeats is a scoundrel. He says it is his interest to protect Ford's property and that Ford has a mortgage out on Platt for $400; there is a law for the white man, and he cannot take another's property. He tells the other two men to leave if they value their safety -- and they do. Tibeats also sneaks off, like a coward. Chapin orders a slave named Lawson to fetch Ford as quickly as he can. He writes Lawson a pass and Lawson rides the mule away


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Chapter: THE HOT SUN--YET BOUND--THE CORDS SINK INTO MY FLESH--CHAPIN'S
  UNEASINESS--SPECULATION--RACHEL, AND HER CUP OF WATER--SUFFERING
  INCREASES--THE HAPPINESS OF SLAVERY--ARRIVAL OF FORD--HE CUTS THE
  CORDS WHICH BIND ME, AND TAKES THE ROPE FROM MY NECK--MISERY--THE
  GATHERING OF THE SLAVES IN ELIZA'S CABIN--THEIR KINDNESS--RACHEL
  REPEATS THE OCCURRENCES OF THE DAY--LAWSON ENTERTAINS HIS COMPANIONS
  WITH AN ACCOUNT OF HIS RIDE--CHAPIN'S APPREHENSIONS OF TIBEATS--HIRED
  TO PETER TANNER--PETER EXPOUNDS THE SCRIPTURES--DESCRIPTION OF THE
  STOCKS.

As the sun approached the meridian that day it became insufferably
warm. Its hot rays scorched the ground. The earth almost blistered
the foot that stood upon it. I was without coat or hat, standing
bare-headed, exposed to its burning blaze. Great drops of perspiration
rolled down my face, drenching the scanty apparel wherewith I was
clothed. Over the fence, a very little way off, the peach trees cast
their cool, delicious shadows on the grass. I would gladly have
given a long year of service to have been enabled to exchange the
heated oven, as it were, wherein I stood, for a seat beneath their
branches. But I was yet bound, the rope still dangling from my neck,
and standing in the same tracks where Tibeats and his comrades left
me. I could not move an inch, so firmly had I been bound. To have been
enabled to lean against the weaving house would have been a luxury
indeed. But it was far beyond my reach, though distant less than
twenty feet. I wanted to lie down, but knew I could not rise again.
The ground was so parched and boiling hot I was aware it would but
add to the discomfort of my situation. If I could have only moved my
position, however slightly, it would have been relief unspeakable.
But the hot rays of a southern sun, beating all the long summer day
on my bare head, produced not half the suffering I experienced from
my aching limbs. My wrists and ankles, and the cords of my legs and
arms began to swell, burying the rope that bound them into the swollen
flesh.

All day Chapin walked back and forth upon the stoop, but not once
approached me. He appeared to be in a state of great uneasiness,
looking first towards me, and then up the road, as if expecting some
arrival every moment. He did not go to the field, as was his custom.
It was evident from his manner that he supposed Tibeats would return
with more and better armed assistance, perhaps, to renew the quarrel,
and it was equally evident he had prepared his mind to defend my life
at whatever hazard. Why he did not relieve me--why he suffered me to
remain in agony the whole weary day, I never knew. It was not for
want of sympathy, I am certain. Perhaps he wished Ford to see the
rope about my neck, and the brutal manner in which I had been bound;
perhaps his interference with another's property in which he had no
legal interest might have been a trespass, which would have subjected
him to the penalty of the law. Why Tibeats was all day absent was
another mystery I never could divine. He knew well enough that Chapin
would not harm him unless he persisted in his design against me.
Lawson told me afterwards, that, as he passed the plantation of John
David Cheney, he saw the three, and that they turned and looked after
him as he flew by. I think his supposition was, that Lawson had been
sent out by Overseer Chapin to arouse the neighboring planters, and to
call on them to come to his assistance. He, therefore, undoubtedly,
acted on the principle, that "discretion is the better part of valor,"
and kept away.

But whatever motive may have governed the cowardly and malignant
tyrant, it is of no importance. There I still stood in the noon-tide
sun, groaning with pain. From long before daylight I had not eaten a
morsel. I was growing faint from pain, and thirst, and hunger. Once
only, in the very hottest portion of the day, Rachel, half fearful she
was acting contrary to the overseer's wishes, ventured to me, and held
a cup of water to my lips. The humble creature never knew, nor could
she comprehend if she had heard them, the blessings I invoked upon
her, for that balmy draught. She could only say, "Oh, Platt, how I do
pity you," and then hastened back to her labors in the kitchen.

Never did the sun move so slowly through the heavens--never did it
shower down such fervent and fiery rays, as it did that day. At
least, so it appeared to me. What my meditations were--the innumerable
thoughts that thronged through my distracted brain--I will not attempt
to give expression to. Suffice it to say, during the whole long day I
came not to the conclusion, even once, that the southern slave, fed,
clothed, whipped and protected by his master, is happier than the
free colored citizen of the North. To that conclusion I have never
since arrived. There are many, however, even in the Northern States,
benevolent and well-disposed men, who will pronounce my opinion
erroneous, and gravely proceed to substantiate the assertion with an
argument. Alas! they have never drunk, as I have, from the bitter cup
of slavery. Just at sunset my heart leaped with unbounded joy, as Ford
came riding into the yard, his horse covered with foam. Chapin met him
at the door, and after conversing a short time, he walked directly to
me.

"Poor Platt, you are in a bad state," was the only expression that
escaped his lips.

"Thank God!" said I, "thank God, Master Ford, that you have come at
last."

Drawing a knife from his pocket, he indignantly cut the cord from
my wrists, arms, and ankles, and slipped the noose from my neck.
I attempted to walk, but staggered like a drunken man, and fell
partially to the ground.

Ford returned immediately to the house, leaving me alone again. As
he reached the piazza, Tibeats and his two friends rode up. A long
dialogue followed. I could hear the sound of their voices, the mild
tones of Ford mingling with the angry accents of Tibeats, but was
unable to distinguish what was said. Finally the three departed again,
apparently not well pleased.

I endeavored to raise the hammer, thinking to show Ford how willing I
was to work, by proceeding with my labors on the weaving house, but
it fell from my nerveless hand. At dark I crawled into the cabin, and
laid down. I was in great misery--all sore and swollen--the slightest
movement producing excruciating suffering. Soon the hands came in
from the field. Rachel, when she went after Lawson, had told them
what had happened. Eliza and Mary broiled me a piece of bacon, but my
appetite was gone. Then they scorched some corn meal and made coffee.
It was all that I could take. Eliza consoled me and was very kind.
It was not long before the cabin was full of slaves. They gathered
round me, asking many questions about the difficulty with Tibeats in
the morning--and the particulars of all the occurrences of the day.
Then Rachel came in, and in her simple language, repeated it over
again--dwelling emphatically on the kick that sent Tibeats rolling
over on the ground--whereupon there was a general titter throughout
the crowd. Then she described how Chapin walked out with his pistols
and rescued me, and how Master Ford cut the ropes with his knife, just
as if he was mad.

By this time Lawson had returned. He had to regale them with an
account of his trip to the Pine Woods--how the brown mule bore him
faster than a "streak o'lightnin"--how he astonished everybody as he
flew along--how Master Ford started right away--how he said Platt was
a good nigger, and they shouldn't kill him, concluding with pretty
strong intimations that there was not another human being in the wide
world, who could have created such a universal sensation on the road,
or performed such a marvelous John Gilpin feat, as he had done that
day on the brown mule.

The kind creatures loaded me with the expression of their
sympathy--saying, Tibeats was a hard, cruel man, and hoping "Massa
Ford" would get me back again. In this manner they passed the time,
discussing, chatting, talking over and over again the exciting affair,
until suddenly Chapin presented himself at the cabin door and called
me.

"Platt," said he, "you will sleep on the floor in the great house
to-night; bring your blanket with you."

I arose as quickly as I was able, took my blanket in my hand, and
followed him. On the way he informed me that he should not wonder
if Tibeats was back again before morning--that he intended to kill
me--and that he did not mean he should do it without witnesses. Had he
stabbed me to the heart in the presence of a hundred slaves, not one
of them, by the laws of Louisiana, could have given evidence against
him. I laid down on the floor in the "great house"--the first and
the last time such a sumptuous resting place was granted me during
my twelve years of bondage--and tried to sleep. Near midnight the
dog began to bark. Chapin arose, looked from the window, but could
discover nothing. At length the dog was quiet. As he returned to his
room, he said,

"I believe, Platt, that scoundrel is skulking about the premises
somewhere. If the dog barks again, and I am sleeping, wake me."

I promised to do so. After the lapse of an hour or more, the dog
re-commenced his clamor, running towards the gate, then back again,
all the while barking furiously.

Chapin was out of bed without waiting to be called. On this occasion,
he stepped forth upon the piazza, and remained standing there a
considerable length of time. Nothing, however, was to be seen, and
the dog returned to his kennel. We were not disturbed again during
the night. The excessive pain that I suffered, and the dread of
some impending danger, prevented any rest whatever. Whether or not
Tibeats did actually return to the plantation that night, seeking an
opportunity to wreak his vengeance upon me, is a secret known only
to himself, perhaps. I thought then, however, and have the strong
impression still, that he was there. At all events, he had the
disposition of an assassin--cowering before a brave man's words, but
ready to strike his helpless or unsuspecting victim in the back, as I
had reason afterwards to know.

At daylight in the morning, I arose, sore and weary, having rested
little. Nevertheless, after partaking breakfast, which Mary and Eliza
had prepared for me in the cabin, I proceeded to the weaving house
and commenced the labors of another day. It was Chapin's practice, as
it is the practice of overseers generally, immediately on arising,
to bestride his horse, always saddled and bridled and ready for
him--the particular business of some slave--and ride into the field.
This morning, on the contrary, he came to the weaving house, asking
if I had seen anything of Tibeats yet. Replying in the negative, he
remarked there was something not right about the fellow--there was bad
blood in him--that I must keep a sharp watch of him, or he would do me
wrong some day when I least expected it.

While he was yet speaking, Tibeats rode in, hitched his horse, and
entered the house. I had little fear of him while Ford and Chapin were
at hand, but they could not be near me always.

Oh! how heavily the weight of slavery pressed upon me then. I must
toil day after day, endure abuse and taunts and scoffs, sleep on
the hard ground, live on the coarsest fare, and not only this, but
live the slave of a blood-seeking wretch, of whom I must stand
henceforth in continued fear and dread. Why had I not died in my young
years--before God had given me children to love and live for? What
unhappiness and suffering and sorrow it would have prevented. I sighed
for liberty; but the bondman's chain was round me, and could not be
shaken off. I could only gaze wistfully towards the North, and think
of the thousands of miles that stretched between me and the soil of
freedom, over which a _black_ freeman may not pass.

Tibeats, in the course of half an hour, walked over to the
weaving-house, looked at me sharply, then returned without saying
anything. Most of the forenoon he sat on the piazza, reading a
newspaper and conversing with Ford. After dinner, the latter left for
the Pine Woods, and it was indeed with regret that I beheld him depart
from the plantation.

Once more during the day Tibeats came to me, gave me some order, and
returned.

During the week the weaving-house was completed--Tibeats in the
meantime making no allusion whatever to the difficulty--when I was
informed he had hired me to Peter Tanner, to work under another
carpenter by the name of Myers. This announcement was received with
gratification, as any place was desirable that would relieve me of his
hateful presence.

Peter Tanner, as the reader has already been informed, lived on the
opposite shore, and was the brother of Mistress Ford. He is one of the
most extensive planters on Bayou Boeuf, and owns a large number of
slaves.

Over I went to Tanner's, joyfully enough. He had heard of my late
difficulties--in fact, I ascertained the flogging of Tibeats was
soon blazoned far and wide. This affair, together with my rafting
experiment, had rendered me somewhat notorious. More than once I
heard it said that Platt Ford, now Platt Tibeats--a slave's name
changes with his change of master--was "a devil of a nigger." But I
was destined to make a still further noise, as will presently be seen,
throughout the little world of Bayou Boeuf.

Peter Tanner endeavored to impress upon me the idea that he was quite
severe, though I could perceive there was a vein of good humor in the
old fellow, after all.

"You're the nigger," he said to me on my arrival--"You're the nigger
that flogged your master, eh? You're the nigger that kicks, and holds
carpenter Tibeats by the leg, and wallops him, are ye? I'd like to see
you hold me by the leg--I should. You're a 'portant character--you're
a great nigger--very remarkable nigger, ain't ye? _I'd_ lash
you--_I'd_ take the tantrums out of ye. Jest take hold of my leg, if
you please. None of your pranks here, my boy, remember _that_. Now
go to work, you _kickin'_ rascal," concluded Peter Tanner, unable to
suppress a half-comical grin at his own wit and sarcasm.

After listening to this salutation, I was taken charge of by Myers,
and labored under his direction for a month, to his and my own
satisfaction.

Like William Ford, his brother-in-law, Tanner was in the habit of
reading the Bible to his slaves on the Sabbath, but in a somewhat
different spirit. He was an impressive commentator on the New
Testament. The first Sunday after my coming to the plantation, he
called them together, and began to read the twelfth chapter of Luke.
When he came to the 47th verse, he looked deliberately around him,
and continued--"And that servant which knew his lord's _will_,"--here
he paused, looking around more deliberately than before, and again
proceeded--"which knew his lord's _will_, and _prepared_ not
himself"--here was another pause--"_prepared_ not himself, neither did
_according_ to his will, shall be beaten with many _stripes_."

"D'ye hear that?" demanded Peter, emphatically. "_Stripes_,"
he repeated, slowly and distinctly, taking off his spectacles,
preparatory to making a few remarks.

"That nigger that don't take care--that don't obey his lord--that's
his master--d'ye see?--that _'ere_ nigger shall be beaten with many
stripes. Now, 'many' signifies a _great_ many--forty, a hundred, a
hundred and fifty lashes. _That's_ Scripter!" and so Peter continued
to elucidate the subject for a great length of time, much to the
edification of his sable audience.

At the conclusion of the exercises, calling up three of his slaves,
Warner, Will and Major, he cried out to me--

"Here, Platt, you held Tibeats by the legs; now I'll see if you can
hold these rascals in the same way, till I get back from meetin'."

Thereupon he ordered them to the stocks--a common thing on plantations
in the Red River country. The stocks are formed of two planks, the
lower one made fast at the ends to two short posts, driven firmly
into the ground. At regular distances half circles are cut in the
upper edge. The other plank is fastened to one of the posts by a
hinge, so that it can be opened or shut down, in the same manner as
the blade of a pocket-knife is shut or opened. In the lower edge of
the upper plank corresponding half circles are also cut, so that when
they close, a row of holes is formed large enough to admit a negro's
leg above the ankle, but not large enough to enable him to draw out
his foot. The other end of the upper plank, opposite the hinge, is
fastened to its post by lock and key. The slave is made to sit upon
the ground, when the uppermost plank is elevated, his legs, just above
the ankles, placed in the sub-half circles, and shutting it down
again, and locking it, he is held secure and fast. Very often the neck
instead of the ankle is enclosed. In this manner they are held during
the operation of whipping.

Warner, Will and Major, according to Tanner's account of them, were
melon-stealing, Sabbath-breaking niggers, and not approving of such
wickedness, he felt it his duty to put them in the stocks. Handing
me the key, himself, Myers, Mistress Tanner and the children entered
the carriage and drove away to church at Cheneyville. When they were
gone, the boys begged me to let them out. I felt sorry to see them
sitting on the hot ground, and remembered my own sufferings in the
sun. Upon their promise to return to the stocks at any moment they
were required to do so, I consented to release them. Grateful for
the lenity shown them, and in order in some measure to repay it, they
could do no less, of course, than pilot me to the melon-patch. Shortly
before Tanner's return, they were in the stocks again. Finally he
drove up, and looking at the boys, said, with a chuckle,--

"Aha! ye havn't been strolling about much to-day, any way. _I'll_
teach you what's what. _I'll_ tire ye of eating water-melons on the
Lord's day, ye Sabbath-breaking niggers."

Peter Tanner prided himself upon his strict religious observances: he
was a deacon in the church.

But I have now reached a point in the progress of my narrative, when
it becomes necessary to turn away from these light descriptions, to
the more grave and weighty matter of the second battle with Master
Tibeats, and the flight through the great Pacoudrie Swamp.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Solomon remains completely bound in the hot sun. He feels near collapse and his limbs ache, but he cannot move. Chapin never relieves him, but he paces the porch. Perhaps he wanted Ford to see how badly Tibeats had treated Solomon, or perhaps he did not want to interfere more. Rachel comes out once to give Solomon water and tells him she pities him. Finally, Ford comes riding up, and all he says is that Solomon is in a bad state. He cuts his bonds and rushes into the house. Solomon topples over, unable to walk. He sees Tibeats and his two friends approach the house and talk to Ford, only to depart again. Solomon crawls to his cabin at dusk because he cannot work. He is in great misery. The other slaves return from their labors. They listen to Solomon's story and give him food and water. Rachel adds what she saw. Lawson also tells his version of the story. Suddenly, Chapin appears at the door and tells Solomon he will sleep in the floor on the great house tonight. On their walk over, he says that he believes Tibeats will be back before morning to kill Solomon, and if he kills him in front of other slaves, no one could lift a finger against him in court. Solomon lies on the floor and tries to sleep. Around midnight, the dog begins to bark; Chapin looks outside but sees nothing. He tells Solomon that he thinks Tibeats is somewhere skulking around the property, but he is not sure. The dog barks again; Chapin investigates, but there is nothing. The rest of the night is uneventful. The next morning, Solomon sets out to do his day's work. Chapin tells Solomon to be wary, as Tibeats has bad blood in him and he may do him wrong some day. Tibeats rides up at that moment, and Solomon feels a great weariness that this is his life now: he must toil and suffer the slights and dangers of monsters. Would that he had died when he was young. It takes a week to complete the weaving-house, and Solomon learns to his delight that Tibeats has sold him to Peter Tanner to work with another carpenter named Myers. Solomon's reputation has preceded him across the bayou, and Tanner impresses upon him that he is severe with his slaves, though Solomon gleans that he has some good humor. Solomon works for Myers for a month. Tanner has a habit of reading the Bible to his slaves on the Sabbath, and one day he reads that servants who do not do their Lord's will should be beaten with many stripes. He calls up three of his slaves -- Warner, Will, and Major -- and tells them that they are melon-stealing, Sabbath-breaking slaves and must go into the stocks. He orders Solomon to stand watch over them. When the Tanner family goes off to church, the three slaves beg Solomon to let them out. He gives in; they all eat melons, and then the men go back into the stocks when Tanner comes home. This levity is short-lived, though, for Solomon's great conflict with Tibeats looms ahead


prompt:
Chapter: RETURN TO TIBEATS--IMPOSSIBILITY OF PLEASING HIM--HE ATTACKS ME
  WITH A HATCHET--THE STRUGGLE OVER THE BROAD AXE--THE TEMPTATION
  TO MURDER HIM--ESCAPE ACROSS THE PLANTATION--OBSERVATIONS FROM
  THE FENCE--TIBEATS APPROACHES, FOLLOWED BY THE HOUNDS--THEY TAKE
  MY TRACK--THEIR LOUD YELLS--THEY ALMOST OVERTAKE ME--I REACH THE
  WATER--THE HOUNDS CONFUSED--MOCCASIN SNAKES--ALLIGATORS--NIGHT
  IN THE "GREAT PACOUDRIE SWAMP"--THE SOUNDS OF LIFE--NORTH-WEST
  COURSE--EMERGE INTO THE PINE WOODS--THE SLAVE AND HIS YOUNG
  MASTER--ARRIVAL AT FORD'S--FOOD AND REST.

At the end of a month, my services being no longer required at
Tanner's I was sent over the bayou again to my master, whom I found
engaged in building the cotton press. This was situated at some
distance from the great house, in a rather retired place. I commenced
working once more in company with Tibeats, being entirely alone with
him most part of the time. I remembered the words of Chapin, his
precautions, his advice to beware, lest in some unsuspecting moment
he might injure me. They were always in my mind, so that I lived in a
most uneasy state of apprehension and fear. One eye was on my work,
the other on my master. I determined to give him no cause of offence,
to work still more diligently, if possible, than I had done, to bear
whatever abuse he might heap upon me, save bodily injury, humbly and
patiently, hoping thereby to soften in some degree his manner towards
me, until the blessed time might come when I should be delivered from
his clutches.

The third morning after my return, Chapin left the plantation for
Cheneyville, to be absent until night. Tibeats, on that morning, was
attacked with one of those periodical fits of spleen and ill-humor to
which he was frequently subject, rendering him still more disagreeable
and venomous than usual.

It was about nine o'clock in the forenoon, when I was busily employed
with the jack-plane on one of the sweeps. Tibeats was standing by the
work-bench, fitting a handle into the chisel, with which he had been
engaged previously in cutting the thread of the screw.

"You are not planing that down enough," said he.

"It is just even with the line," I replied.

"You're a d--d liar," he exclaimed passionately.

"Oh, well, master," I said, mildly, "I will plane it down more if you
say so," at the same time proceeding to do as I supposed he desired.
Before one shaving had been removed, however, he cried out, saying I
had now planed it too deep--it was too small--I had spoiled the sweep
entirely. Then followed curses and imprecations. I had endeavored to
do exactly as he directed, but nothing would satisfy the unreasonable
man. In silence and in dread I stood by the sweep, holding the
jack-plane in my hand, not knowing what to do, and not daring to be
idle. His anger grew more and more violent, until, finally, with an
oath, such a bitter, frightful oath as only Tibeats could utter, he
seized a hatchet from the work-bench and darted towards me, swearing
he would cut my head open.

It was a moment of life or death. The sharp, bright blade of the
hatchet glittered in the sun. In another instant it would be buried in
my brain, and yet in that instant--so quick will a man's thoughts come
to him in such a fearful strait--I reasoned with myself. If I stood
still, my doom was certain; if I fled, ten chances to one the hatchet,
flying from his hand with a too-deadly and unerring aim, would strike
me in the back. There was but one course to take. Springing towards
him with all my power, and meeting him full half-way, before he could
bring down the blow, with one hand I caught his uplifted arm, with the
other seized him by the throat. We stood looking each other in the
eyes. In his I could see murder. I felt as if I had a serpent by the
neck, watching the slightest relaxation of my gripe, to coil itself
round my body, crushing and stinging it to death. I thought to scream
aloud, trusting that some ear might catch the sound--but Chapin was
away; the hands were in the field; there was no living soul in sight
or hearing.

The good genius, which thus far through life has saved me from the
hands of violence, at that moment suggested a lucky thought. With a
vigorous and sudden kick, that brought him on one knee, with a groan,
I released my hold upon his throat, snatched the hatchet, and cast it
beyond reach.

Frantic with rage, maddened beyond control, he seized a white oak
stick, five feet long, perhaps, and as large in circumference as his
hand could grasp, which was lying on the ground. Again he rushed
towards me, and again I met him, seized him about the waist, and being
the stronger of the two, bore him to the earth. While in that position
I obtained possession of the stick, and rising, cast it from me, also.

He likewise arose and ran for the broad-axe, on the work-bench.
Fortunately, there was a heavy plank lying upon its broad blade, in
such a manner that he could not extricate it, before I had sprung upon
his back. Pressing him down closely and heavily on the plank, so that
the axe was held more firmly to its place, I endeavored, but in vain,
to break his grasp upon the handle. In that position we remained some
minutes.

There have been hours in my unhappy life, many of them, when the
contemplation of death as the end of earthly sorrow--of the grave as
a resting place for the tired and worn out body--has been pleasant to
dwell upon. But such contemplations vanish in the hour of peril. No
man, in his full strength, can stand undismayed, in the presence of
the "king of terrors." Life is dear to every living thing; the worm
that crawls upon the ground will struggle for it. At that moment it
was dear to me, enslaved and treated as I was.

Not able to unloose his hand, once more I seized him by the throat,
and this time, with a vice-like gripe that soon relaxed his hold.
He became pliant and unstrung. His face, that had been white with
passion, was now black from suffocation. Those small serpent eyes
that spat such venom, were now full of horror--two great white orbs
starting from their sockets!

There was "a lurking devil" in my heart that prompted me to kill the
human blood-hound on the spot--to retain the grip on his accursed
throat till the breath of life was gone! I dared not murder him,
and I dared not let him live. If I killed him, my life must pay the
forfeit--if he lived, my life only would satisfy his vengeance. A
voice within whispered me to fly. To be a wanderer among the swamps,
a fugitive and a vagabond on the face of the earth, was preferable to
the life that I was leading.

My resolution was soon formed, and swinging him from the work-bench
to the ground, I leaped a fence near by, and hurried across the
plantation, passing the slaves at work in the cotton field. At the end
of a quarter of a mile I reached the wood-pasture, and it was a short
time indeed that I had been running it. Climbing on to a high fence, I
could see the cotton press, the great house, and the space between.
It was a conspicuous position, from whence the whole plantation was
in view. I saw Tibeats cross the field towards the house, and enter
it--then he came out, carrying his saddle, and presently mounted his
horse and galloped away.

I was desolate, but thankful. Thankful that my life was
spared,--desolate and discouraged with the prospect before me. What
would become of me? Who would befriend me? Whither should I fly?
Oh, God! Thou who gavest me life, and implanted in my bosom the
love of life--who filled it with emotions such as other men, thy
creatures, have, do not forsake me. Have pity on the poor slave--let
me not perish. If thou dost not protect me, I am lost--lost! Such
supplications, silently and unuttered, ascended from my inmost heart
to Heaven. But there was no answering voice--no sweet, low tone,
coming down from on high, whispering to my soul, "It is I, be not
afraid." I was the forsaken of God, it seemed--the despised and hated
of men!

In about three-fourths of an hour several of the slaves shouted and
made signs for me to run. Presently, looking up the bayou, I saw
Tibeats and two others on horse-back, coming at a fast gait, followed
by a troop of dogs. There were as many as eight or ten. Distant as I
was, I knew them. They belonged on the adjoining plantation. The dogs
used on Bayou Boeuf for hunting slaves are a kind of blood-hound,
but a far more savage breed than is found in the Northern States.
They will attack a negro, at their master's bidding, and cling
to him as the common bull-dog will cling to a four footed animal.
Frequently their loud bay is heard in the swamps, and then there is
speculation as to what point the runaway will be overhauled--the same
as a New-York hunter stops to listen to the hounds coursing along the
hillsides, and suggests to his companion that the fox will be taken
at such a place. I never knew a slave escaping with his life from
Bayou Boeuf. One reason is, they are not allowed to learn the art
of swimming, and are incapable of crossing the most inconsiderable
stream. In their flight they can go in no direction but a little
way without coming to a bayou, when the inevitable alternative is
presented, of being drowned or overtaken by the dogs. In youth I had
practised in the clear streams that flow through my native district,
until I had become an expert swimmer, and felt at home in the watery
element.

I stood upon the fence until the dogs had reached the cotton press. In
an instant more, their long, savage yells announced they were on my
track. Leaping down from my position, I ran towards the swamp. Fear
gave me strength, and I exerted it to the utmost. Every few moments I
could hear the yelpings of the dogs. They were gaining upon me. Every
howl was nearer and nearer. Each moment I expected they would spring
upon my back--expected to feel their long teeth sinking into my flesh.
There were so many of them, I knew they would tear me to pieces, that
they would worry me, at once, to death. I gasped for breath--gasped
forth a half-uttered, choking prayer to the Almighty to save me--to
give me strength to reach some wide, deep bayou where I could throw
them off the track, or sink into its waters. Presently I reached
a thick palmetto bottom. As I fled through them they made a loud
rustling noise, not loud enough, however, to drown the voices of the
dogs.

Continuing my course due south, as nearly as I can judge, I came at
length to water just over shoe. The hounds at that moment could not
have been five rods behind me. I could hear them crashing and plunging
through the palmettoes, their loud, eager yells making the whole swamp
clamorous with the sound. Hope revived a little as I reached the
water. If it were only deeper, they might lose the scent, and thus
disconcerted, afford me the opportunity of evading them. Luckily, it
grew deeper the farther I proceeded--now over my ankles--now half-way
to my knees--now sinking a moment to my waist, and then emerging
presently into more shallow places. The dogs had not gained upon me
since I struck the water. Evidently they were confused. Now their
savage intonations grew more and more distant, assuring me that I was
leaving them. Finally I stopped to listen, but the long howl came
booming on the air again, telling me I was not yet safe. From bog to
bog, where I had stepped, they could still keep upon the track, though
impeded by the water. At length, to my great joy, I came to a wide
bayou, and plunging in, had soon stemmed its sluggish current to
the other side. There, certainly, the dogs would be confounded--the
current carrying down the stream all traces of that slight, mysterious
scent, which enables the quick-smelling hound to follow in the track
of the fugitive.

After crossing this bayou the water became so deep I could not run. I
was now in what I afterwards learned was the "Great Pacoudrie Swamp."
It was filled with immense trees--the sycamore, the gum, the cotton
wood and cypress, and extends, I am informed, to the shore of the
Calcasieu river. For thirty or forty miles it is without inhabitants,
save wild beasts--the bear, the wild-cat, the tiger, and great slimy
reptiles, that are crawling through it everywhere. Long before I
reached the bayou, in fact, from the time I struck the water until I
emerged from the swamp on my return, these reptiles surrounded me. I
saw hundreds of moccasin snakes. Every log and bog--every trunk of a
fallen tree, over which I was compelled to step or climb, was alive
with them. They crawled away at my approach, but sometimes in my
haste, I almost placed my hand or foot upon them. They are poisonous
serpents--their bite more fatal than the rattlesnake's. Besides, I had
lost one shoe, the sole having come entirely off, leaving the upper
only dangling to my ankle.

I saw also many alligators, great and small, lying in the water, or
on pieces of floodwood. The noise I made usually startled them,
when they moved off and plunged into the deepest places. Sometimes,
however, I would come directly upon a monster before observing it. In
such cases, I would start back, run a short way round, and in that
manner shun them. Straight forward, they will run a short distance
rapidly, but do not possess the power of turning. In a crooked race,
there is no difficulty in evading them.

About two o'clock in the afternoon, I heard the last of the hounds.
Probably they did not cross the bayou. Wet and weary, but relieved
from the sense of instant peril, I continued on, more cautious and
afraid, however, of the snakes and alligators than I had been in the
earlier portion of my flight. Now, before stepping into a muddy pool,
I would strike the water with a stick. If the waters moved, I would go
around it, if not, would venture through.

At length the sun went down, and gradually night's trailing mantle
shrouded the great swamp in darkness. Still I staggered on, fearing
every instant I should feel the dreadful sting of the moccasin, or
be crushed within the jaws of some disturbed alligator. The dread of
them now almost equaled the fear of the pursuing hounds. The moon
arose after a time, its mild light creeping through the overspreading
branches, loaded with long, pendent moss. I kept traveling forwards
until after midnight, hoping all the while that I would soon emerge
into some less desolate and dangerous region. But the water grew
deeper and the walking more difficult than ever. I perceived it
would be impossible to proceed much farther, and knew not, moreover,
what hands I might fall into, should I succeed in reaching a human
habitation. Not provided with a pass, any white man would be at
liberty to arrest me, and place me in prison until such time as my
master should "prove property, pay charges, and take me away." I was
an estray, and if so unfortunate as to meet a law-abiding citizen of
Louisiana, he would deem it his duty to his neighbor, perhaps, to put
me forthwith in the pound. Really, it was difficult to determine which
I had most reason to fear--dogs, alligators or men!

After midnight, however, I came to a halt. Imagination cannot picture
the dreariness of the scene. The swamp was resonant with the quacking
of innumerable ducks! Since the foundation of the earth, in all
probability, a human footstep had never before so far penetrated the
recesses of the swamp. It was not silent now--silent to a degree that
rendered it oppressive,--as it was when the sun was shining in the
heavens. My midnight intrusion had awakened the feathered tribes,
which seemed to throng the morass in hundreds of thousands, and their
garrulous throats poured forth such multitudinous sounds--there was
such a fluttering of wings--such sullen plunges in the water all
around me--that I was affrighted and appalled. All the fowls of
the air, and all the creeping things of the earth appeared to have
assembled together in that particular place, for the purpose of
filling it with clamor and confusion. Not by human dwellings--not in
crowded cities alone, are the sights and sounds of life. The wildest
places of the earth are full of them. Even in the heart of that dismal
swamp, God had provided a refuge and a dwelling place for millions of
living things.

The moon had now risen above the trees, when I resolved upon a new
project. Thus far I had endeavored to travel as nearly south as
possible. Turning about I proceeded in a north-west direction, my
object being to strike the Pine Woods in the vicinity of Master
Ford's. Once within the shadow of his protection, I felt I would be
comparatively safe.

My clothes were in tatters, my hands, face, and body covered with
scratches, received from the sharp knots of fallen trees, and in
climbing over piles of brush and floodwood. My bare foot was full of
thorns. I was besmeared with muck and mud, and the green slime that
had collected on the surface of the dead water, in which I had been
immersed to the neck many times during the day and night. Hour after
hour, and tiresome indeed had they become, I continued to plod along
on my north-west course. The water began to grow less deep, and the
ground more firm under my feet. At last I reached the Pacoudrie, the
same wide bayou I had swam while "outward bound." I swam it again, and
shortly after thought I heard a cock crow, but the sound was faint,
and it might have been a mockery of the ear. The water receded from
my advancing footsteps--now I had left the bogs behind me--now I was
on dry land that gradually ascended to the plain, and I knew I was
somewhere in the "Great Pine Woods."

Just at day-break I came to an opening--a sort of small
plantation--but one I had never seen before. In the edge of the woods
I came upon two men, a slave and his young master, engaged in catching
wild hogs. The white man I knew would demand my pass, and not able
to give him one, would take me into possession. I was too wearied to
run again, and too desperate to be taken, and therefore adopted a
ruse that proved entirely successful. Assuming a fierce expression, I
walked directly towards him, looking him steadily in the face. As I
approached, he moved backwards with an air of alarm. It was plain he
was much affrighted--that he looked upon me as some infernal goblin,
just arisen from the bowels of the swamp!

"Where does William Ford live?" I demanded, in no gentle tone.

"He lives seven miles from here," was the reply.

"Which is the way to his place?" I again demanded, trying to look more
fiercely than ever.

"Do you see those pine trees yonder?" he asked, pointing to two, a
mile distant, that rose far above their fellows, like a couple of tall
sentinels, overlooking the broad expanse of forest.

"I see them," was the answer.

"At the feet of those pine trees," he continued, "runs the Texas road.
Turn to the left, and it will lead you to William Ford's."

Without farther parley, I hastened forward, happy as he was, no doubt,
to place the widest possible distance between us. Striking the Texas
road, I turned to the left hand, as directed, and soon passed a great
fire, where a pile of logs were burning. I went to it, thinking I
would dry my clothes; but the gray light of the morning was fast
breaking away,--some passing white man might observe me; besides, the
heat overpowered me with the desire of sleep: so, lingering no longer,
I continued my travels, and finally, about eight o'clock, reached the
house of Master Ford.

The slaves were all absent from the quarters, at their work. Stepping
on to the piazza, I knocked at the door, which was soon opened by
Mistress Ford. My appearance was so changed--I was in such a wobegone
and forlorn condition, she did not know me. Inquiring if Master Ford
was at home, that good man made his appearance, before the question
could be answered. I told him of my flight, and all the particulars
connected with it. He listened attentively, and when I had concluded,
spoke to me kindly and sympathetically, and taking me to the kitchen,
called John, and ordered him to prepare me food. I had tasted nothing
since daylight the previous morning.

When John had set the meal before me, the madam came out with a bowl
of milk, and many little delicious dainties, such as rarely please the
palate of a slave. I was hungry, and I was weary, but neither food nor
rest afforded half the pleasure as did the blessed voices speaking
kindness and consolation. It was the oil and the wine which the Good
Samaritan in the "Great Pine Woods" was ready to pour into the wounded
spirit of the slave, who came to him, stripped of his raiment and
half-dead.

They left me in the cabin, that I might rest. Blessed be sleep! It
visiteth all alike, descending as the dews of heaven on the bond and
free. Soon it nestled to my bosom, driving away the troubles that
oppressed it, and bearing me to that shadowy region, where I saw again
the faces, and listened to the voices of my children, who, alas, for
aught I knew in my waking hours, had fallen into the arms of that
_other_ sleep, from which they _never_ would arouse.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Solomon is sent back to work with Tibeats building a cotton press. They spend a great deal of time together, much of it alone, and Solomon has Chapin's warning in his mind. One day, they are working and Tibeats chastises Solomon. Solomon makes a mistake and then tries to correct it. Tibeats grows more and more irate, grabs a hatchet, and rushes toward Solomon. Solomon knows this is a life-or-death moment, for he can see murder in the man's eyes. Solomon leaps toward Tibeats, stays his arm, kicks him to make him drop the hatchet, and kicks the hatchet away. Tibeats grabs a large white oak stick and rushes toward Solomon again. Solomon takes the stick from him, and Tibeats lunges for a broad-axe. He cannot get it in time before Solomon jumps atop him and holds him down. Solomon is conscious of how dear life is, and he begins to press down on Tibeat's throat. The man's face grows black with suffocation. Part of Solomon wants to end his enemy's life now, but he does not; however, he knows he is in trouble if Tibeats lives. He decides to run away. Solomon leaps off Tibeats and runs as fast as he can away from the workbench to the field. He sees Tibeats mount a horse in the distance and ride off. Solomon is grateful that he made it this far, but he does not know what to do now. Suddenly, other slaves nearby in the field tell him to run, and he can see three horsemen and dogs. Solomon knows what kind of bloodhound these are and how they could tear him apart. Thankfully, he is a good swimmer, so he runs as fast as he can into the swamp to disguise his scent. He plunges into the river and swims to the other side. This is the Great Pacoudrie Swamp, which is filled with immense trees and is completely wild. Poisonous moccasin snakes are everywhere, as are alligators. Making his way through the swamp is utterly terrifying, and Solomon fears being attacked at any moment. This dread almost equals that which he feels towards the hounds. He thinks he should get out but he knows he does not have a pass, which means that white men could arrest him. The silent swamp resounds with quacking ducks and fluttering wings, and Solomon cannot control his overwhelming terror at the beasts and fowl of this world. The moon has risen and he decides he must get to the Pine Woods near Ford. Around daybreak, he comes to an opening in the trees and sees two men: a slave and his young master. He assumes a fierce expression and walks toward the men. His wild appearance frightens them, and he asks where Ford lives. They tell him, too shocked to do anything but obey. Finally, by eight that evening, Solomon makes it to Ford's house. He tells Ford what happened and Ford takes pity on him. He is able to collapse into a deep sleep


prompt:
Chapter: THE MISTRESS' GARDEN--THE CRIMSON AND GOLDEN FRUIT--ORANGE AND
  POMEGRANATE TREES--RETURN TO BAYOU BOEUF--MASTER FORD'S REMARKS ON
  THE WAY--THE MEETING WITH TIBEATS--HIS ACCOUNT OF THE CHASE--FORD
  CENSURES HIS BRUTALITY--ARRIVAL AT THE PLANTATION--ASTONISHMENT OF
  THE SLAVES ON SEEING ME--THE ANTICIPATED FLOGGING--KENTUCKY JOHN--MR.
  ELDRET, THE PLANTER--ELDRET'S SAM--TRIP TO THE "BIG CANE BRAKE"--THE
  TRADITION OF "SUTTON'S FIELD"--FOREST TREES--GNATS AND MOSQUITOS--THE
  ARRIVAL OF BLACK WOMEN IN THE BIG CANE--LUMBER WOMEN--SUDDEN
  APPEARANCE OF TIBEATS--HIS PROVOKING TREATMENT--VISIT TO BAYOU
  BOEUF--THE SLAVE PASS--SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY--THE LAST OF ELIZA--SALE
  TO EDWIN EPPS.

After a long sleep, sometime in the afternoon I awoke, refreshed, but
very sore and stiff. Sally came in and talked with me, while John
cooked me some dinner. Sally was in great trouble, as well as myself,
one of her children being ill, and she feared it could not survive.
Dinner over, after walking about the quarters for a while, visiting
Sally's cabin and looking at the sick child, I strolled into the
madam's garden. Though it was a season of the year when the voices
of the birds are silent, and the trees are stripped of their summer
glories in more frigid climes, yet the whole variety of roses were
then blooming there, and the long, luxuriant vines creeping over
the frames. The crimson and golden fruit hung half hidden amidst the
younger and older blossoms of the peach, the orange, the plum, and
the pomegranate; for, in that region of almost perpetual warmth, the
leaves are falling and the buds bursting into bloom the whole year
long.

I indulged the most grateful feelings towards Master and Mistress
Ford, and wishing in some manner to repay their kindness, commenced
trimming the vines, and afterwards weeding out the grass from among
the orange and pomegranate trees. The latter grows eight or ten feet
high, and its fruit, though larger, is similar in appearance to the
jelly-flower. It has the luscious flavor of the strawberry. Oranges,
peaches, plums, and most other fruits are indigenous to the rich,
warm soil of Avoyelles; but the apple, the most common of them all in
colder latitudes, is rarely to be seen.

Mistress Ford came out presently, saying it was praise-worthy in me,
but I was not in a condition to labor, and might rest myself at the
quarters until master should go down to Bayou Boeuf, which would not
be that day, and it might not be the next. I said to her--to be sure,
I felt bad, and was stiff, and that my foot pained me, the stubs and
thorns having so torn it, but thought such exercise would not hurt
me, and that it was a great pleasure to work for so good a mistress.
Thereupon she returned to the great house, and for three days I was
diligent in the garden, cleaning the walks, weeding the flower beds,
and pulling up the rank grass beneath the jessamine vines, which the
gentle and generous hand of my protectress had taught to clamber along
the walls.

The fourth morning, having become recruited and refreshed, Master Ford
ordered me to make ready to accompany him to the bayou. There was but
one saddle horse at the opening, all the others with the mules having
been sent down to the plantation. I said I could walk, and bidding
Sally and John goodbye, left the opening, trotting along by the
horse's side.

That little paradise in the Great Pine Woods was the oasis in the
desert, towards which my heart turned lovingly, during many years
of bondage. I went forth from it now with regret and sorrow, not so
overwhelming, however, as if it had then been given me to know that I
should never return to it again.

Master Ford urged me to take his place occasionally on the horse, to
rest me; but I said no, I was not tired, and it was better for me to
walk than him. He said many kind and cheering things to me on the
way, riding slowly, in order that I might keep pace with him. The
goodness of God was manifest, he declared, in my miraculous escape
from the swamp. As Daniel came forth unharmed from the den of lions,
and as Jonah had been preserved in the whale's belly, even so had
I been delivered from evil by the Almighty. He interrogated me in
regard to the various fears and emotions I had experienced during the
day and night, and if I had felt, at any time, a desire to pray. I
felt forsaken of the whole world, I answered him, and was praying
mentally all the while. At such times, said he, the heart of man turns
instinctively towards his Maker. In prosperity, and when there is
nothing to injure or make him afraid, he remembers Him not, and is
ready to defy Him; but place him in the midst of dangers, cut him off
from human aid, let the grave open before him--then it is, in the time
of his tribulation, that the scoffer and unbelieving man turns to God
for help, feeling there is no other hope, or refuge, or safety, save
in his protecting arm.

So did that benignant man speak to me of this life and of the life
hereafter; of the goodness and power of God, and of the vanity of
earthly things, as we journeyed along the solitary road towards Bayou
Boeuf.

When within some five miles of the plantation, we discovered a
horseman at a distance, galloping towards us. As he came near I saw
that it was Tibeats! He looked at me a moment, but did not address
me, and turning about, rode along side by side with Ford. I trotted
silently at their horses' heels, listening to their conversation.
Ford informed him of my arrival in the Pine Woods three days before,
of the sad plight I was in, and of the difficulties and dangers I had
encountered.

"Well," exclaimed Tibeats, omitting his usual oaths in the presence
of Ford, "I never saw such running before. I'll bet him against a
hundred dollars, he'll beat any nigger in Louisiana. I offered John
David Cheney twenty-five dollars to catch him, dead or alive, but he
outran his dogs in a fair race. Them Cheney dogs ain't much, after
all. Dunwoodie's hounds would have had him down before he touched the
palmettoes. Somehow the dogs got off the track, and we had to give
up the hunt. We rode the horses as far as we could, and then kept on
foot till the water was three feet deep. The boys said he was drowned,
sure. I allow I wanted a shot at him mightily. Ever since, I have
been riding up and down the bayou, but had'nt much hope of catching
him--thought he was dead, _sartin_. Oh, he's a cuss to run--that
nigger is!"

In this way Tibeats ran on, describing his search in the swamp, the
wonderful speed with which I had fled before the hounds, and when
he had finished, Master Ford responded by saying, I had always been
a willing and faithful boy with him; that he was sorry we had such
trouble; that, according to Platt's story, he had been inhumanly
treated, and that he, Tibeats, was himself in fault. Using hatchets
and broad-axes upon slaves was shameful, and should not be allowed,
he remarked. "This is no way of dealing with them, when first brought
into the country. It will have a pernicious influence, and set them
all running away. The swamps will be full of them. A little kindness
would be far more effectual in restraining them, and rendering them
obedient, than the use of such deadly weapons. Every planter on the
bayou should frown upon such inhumanity. It is for the interest of
all to do so. It is evident enough, Mr. Tibeats, that you and Platt
cannot live together. You dislike him, and would not hesitate to
kill him, and knowing it, he will run from you again through fear
of his life. Now, Tibeats, you must sell him, or hire him out, at
least. Unless you do so, I shall take measures to get him out of your
possession."

In this spirit Ford addressed him the remainder of the distance. I
opened not my mouth. On reaching the plantation they entered the
great house, while I repaired to Eliza's cabin. The slaves were
astonished to find me there, on returning from the field, supposing
I was drowned. That night, again, they gathered about the cabin to
listen to the story of my adventure. They took it for granted I would
be whipped, and that it would be severe, the well-known penalty of
running away being five hundred lashes.

"Poor fellow," said Eliza, taking me by the hand, "it would have been
better for you if you had drowned. You have a cruel master, and he
will kill you yet, I am afraid."

Lawson suggested that it might be, overseer Chapin would be appointed
to inflict the punishment, in which case it would not be severe,
whereupon Mary, Rachel, Bristol, and others hoped it would be Master
Ford, and then it would be no whipping at all. They all pitied me
and tried to console me, and were sad in view of the castigation
that awaited me, except Kentucky John. There were no bounds to his
laughter; he filled the cabin with cachinnations, holding his sides
to prevent an explosion, and the cause of his noisy mirth was the idea
of my outstripping the hounds. Somehow, he looked at the subject in a
comical light. "I _know'd_ dey would'nt cotch him, when he run cross
de plantation. O, de lor', did'nt Platt pick his feet right up, tho',
hey? When dem dogs got whar he was, he was'nt _dar_--haw, haw, haw! O,
de lor' a' mity!"--and then Kentucky John relapsed into another of his
boisterous fits.

Early the next morning, Tibeats left the plantation. In the course
of the forenoon, while sauntering about the gin-house, a tall,
good-looking man came to me, and inquired if I was Tibeats' boy, that
youthful appellation being applied indiscriminately to slaves even
though they may have passed the number of three score years and ten. I
took off my hat, and answered that I was.

"How would you like to work for me?" he inquired.

"Oh, I would like to, very much," said I, inspired with a sudden hope
of getting away from Tibeats.

"You worked under Myers at Peter Tanner's, didn't you?"

I replied I had, adding some complimentary remarks that Myers had made
concerning me.

"Well, boy," said he, "I have hired you of your master to work for me
in the "Big Cane Brake," thirty-eight miles from here, down on Red
River."

This man was Mr. Eldret, who lived below Ford's, on the same side of
the bayou. I accompanied him to his plantation, and in the morning
started with his slave Sam, and a wagon-load of provisions, drawn by
four mules, for the Big Cane, Eldret and Myers having preceded us on
horseback. This Sam was a native of Charleston, where he had a mother,
brother and sisters. He "allowed"--a common word among both black and
white--that Tibeats was a mean man, and hoped, as I most earnestly did
also, that his master would buy me.

We proceeded down the south shore of the bayou, crossing it at Carey's
plantation; from thence to Huff Power, passing which, we came upon the
Bayou Rouge road, which runs towards Red River. After passing through
Bayou Rouge Swamp, and just at sunset, turning from the highway, we
struck off into the "Big Cane Brake." We followed an unbeaten track,
scarcely wide enough to admit the wagon. The cane, such as are used
for fishing-rods, were as thick as they could stand. A person could
not be seen through them the distance of a rod. The paths of wild
beasts run through them in various directions--the bear and the
American tiger abounding in these brakes, and wherever there is a
basin of stagnant water, it is full of alligators.

We kept on our lonely course through the "Big Cane" several miles,
when we entered a clearing, known as "Sutton's Field." Many years
before, a man by the name of Sutton had penetrated the wilderness
of cane to this solitary place. Tradition has it, that he fled
thither, a fugitive, not from service, but from justice. Here he lived
alone--recluse and hermit of the swamp--with his own hands planting
the seed and gathering in the harvest. One day a band of Indians
stole upon his solitude, and after a bloody battle, overpowered and
massacred him. For miles the country round, in the slaves' quarters,
and on the piazzas of "great houses," where white children listen to
superstitious tales, the story goes, that that spot, in the heart
of the "Big Cane," is a haunted place. For more than a quarter of
a century, human voices had rarely, if ever, disturbed the silence
of the clearing. Rank and noxious weeds had overspread the once
cultivated field--serpents sunned themselves on the doorway of the
crumbling cabin. It was indeed a dreary picture of desolation.

Passing "Sutton's Field," we followed a new-cut road two miles
farther, which brought us to its termination. We had now reached
the wild lands of Mr. Eldret, where he contemplated clearing up
an extensive plantation. We went to work next morning with our
cane-knives, and cleared a sufficient space to allow the erection of
two cabins--one for Myers and Eldret, the other for Sam, myself, and
the slaves that were to join us. We were now in the midst of trees of
enormous growth, whose wide-spreading branches almost shut out the
light of the sun, while the space between the trunks was an impervious
mass of cane, with here and there an occasional palmetto.

The bay and the sycamore, the oak and the cypress, reach a growth
unparalleled, in those fertile lowlands bordering the Red River. From
every tree, moreover, hang long, large masses of moss, presenting to
the eye unaccustomed to them, a striking and singular appearance.
This moss, in large quantities, is sent north, and there used for
manufacturing purposes.

We cut down oaks, split them into rails, and with these erected
temporary cabins. We covered the roofs with the broad palmetto leaf,
an excellent substitute for shingles, as long as they last.

The greatest annoyance I met with here were small flies, gnats and
mosquitoes. They swarmed the air. They penetrated the porches of the
ear, the nose, the eyes, the mouth. They sucked themselves beneath the
skin. It was impossible to brush or beat them off. It seemed, indeed,
as if they would devour us--carry us away piecemeal, in their small
tormenting mouths.

A lonelier spot, or one more disagreeable, than the centre of the "Big
Cane Brake," it would be difficult to conceive; yet to me it was a
paradise, in comparison with any other place in the company of Master
Tibeats. I labored hard, and oft-times was weary and fatigued, yet I
could lie down at night in peace, and arise in the morning without
fear.

In the course of a fortnight, four black girls came down from Eldret's
plantation--Charlotte, Fanny, Cresia and Nelly. They were all large
and stout. Axes were put into their hands, and they were sent out
with Sam and myself to cut trees. They were excellent choppers, the
largest oak or sycamore standing but a brief season before their
heavy and well-directed blows. At piling logs, they were equal to any
man. There are lumberwomen as well as lumbermen in the forests of the
South. In fact, in the region of the Bayou Boeuf they perform their
share of all the labor required on the plantation. They plough, drag,
drive team, clear wild lands, work on the highway, and so forth. Some
planters, owning large cotton and sugar plantations, have none other
than the labor of slave women. Such a one is Jim Burns, who lives on
the north shore of the bayou, opposite the plantation of John Fogaman.

On our arrival in the brake, Eldret promised me, if I worked well, I
might go up to visit my friends at Ford's in four weeks. On Saturday
night of the fifth week, I reminded him of his promise, when he told
me I had done so well, that I might go. I had set my heart upon it,
and Eldret's announcement thrilled me with pleasure. I was to return
in time to commence the labors of the day on Tuesday morning.

While indulging the pleasant anticipation of so soon meeting my old
friends again, suddenly the hateful form of Tibeats appeared among us.
He inquired how Myers and Platt got along together, and was told, very
well, and that Platt was going up to Ford's plantation in the morning
on a visit.

"Poh, poh!" sneered Tibeats; "it isn't worth while--the nigger will
get unsteady. He can't go."

But Eldret insisted I had worked faithfully--that he had given me
his promise, and that, under the circumstances, I ought not to be
disappointed. They then, it being about dark, entered one cabin
and I the other. I could not give up the idea of going; it was a
sore disappointment. Before morning I resolved, if Eldret made no
objection, to leave at all hazards. At daylight I was at his door,
with my blanket rolled up into a bundle, and hanging on a stick over
my shoulder, waiting for a pass. Tibeats came out presently in one
of his disagreeable moods, washed his face, and going to a stump
near by, sat down upon it, apparently busily thinking with himself.
After standing there a long time, impelled by a sudden impulse of
impatience, I started off.

"Are you going without a pass?" he cried out to me.

"Yes, master, I thought I would," I answered.

"How do you think you'll get there?" demanded he.

"Don't know," was all the reply I made him.

"You'd be taken and sent to jail, where you ought to be, before you
got half-way there," he added, passing into the cabin as he said it.
He came out soon with the pass in his hand, and calling me a "d--d
nigger that deserved a hundred lashes," threw it on the ground. I
picked it up, and hurried away right speedily.

A slave caught off his master's plantation without a pass, may be
seized and whipped by any white man whom he meets. The one I now
received was dated, and read as follows:

"Platt has permission to go to Ford's plantation, on Bayou Boeuf, and
return by Tuesday morning.

                                             JOHN M. TIBEATS."

This is the usual form. On the way, a great many demanded it, read it,
and passed on. Those having the air and appearance of gentlemen, whose
dress indicated the possession of wealth, frequently took no notice of
me whatever; but a shabby fellow, an unmistakable loafer, never failed
to hail me, and to scrutinize and examine me in the most thorough
manner. Catching runaways is sometimes a money-making business. If,
after advertising, no owner appears, they may be sold to the highest
bidder; and certain fees are allowed the finder for his services, at
all events, even if reclaimed. "A mean white," therefore,--a name
applied to the species loafer--considers it a god-send to meet an
unknown negro without a pass.

There are no inns along the highways in that portion of the State
where I sojourned. I was wholly destitute of money, neither did I
carry any provisions, on my journey from the Big Cane to Bayou Boeuf;
nevertheless, with his pass in his hand, a slave need never suffer
from hunger or from thirst. It is only necessary to present it to the
master or overseer of a plantation, and state his wants, when he will
be sent round to the kitchen and provided with food or shelter, as
the case may require. The traveler stops at any house and calls for
a meal with as much freedom as if it was a public tavern. It is the
general custom of the country. Whatever their faults may be, it is
certain the inhabitants along Red River, and around the bayous in the
interior of Louisiana are not wanting in hospitality.

I arrived at Ford's plantation towards the close of the afternoon,
passing the evening in Eliza's cabin, with Lawson, Rachel, and others
of my acquaintance. When we left Washington Eliza's form was round
and plump. She stood erect, and in her silks and jewels, presented
a picture of graceful strength and elegance. Now she was but a thin
shadow of her former self. Her face had become ghastly haggard, and
the once straight and active form was bowed down, as if bearing the
weight of a hundred years. Crouching on her cabin floor, and clad
in the coarse garments of a slave, old Elisha Berry would not have
recognized the mother of his child. I never saw her afterwards. Having
become useless in the cotton-field, she was bartered for a trifle, to
some man residing in the vicinity of Peter Compton's. Grief had gnawed
remorselessly at her heart, until her strength was gone; and for that,
her last master, it is said, lashed and abused her most unmercifully.
But he could not whip back the departed vigor of her youth, nor
straighten up that bended body to its full height, such as it was when
her children were around her, and the light of freedom was shining on
her path.

I learned the particulars relative to her departure from this world,
from some of Compton's slaves, who had come over Red River to the
bayou, to assist young Madam Tanner during the "busy season." She
became at length, they said, utterly helpless, for several weeks lying
on the ground floor in a dilapidated cabin, dependent upon the mercy
of her fellow-thralls for an occasional drop of water, and a morsel of
food. Her master did not "knock her on the head," as is sometimes done
to put a suffering animal out of misery, but left her unprovided for,
and unprotected, to linger through a life of pain and wretchedness to
its natural close. When the hands returned from the field one night
they found her dead! During the day, the Angel of the Lord, who moveth
invisibly over all the earth, gathering in his harvest of departing
souls, had silently entered the cabin of the dying woman, and taken
her from thence. She was _free_ at last!

Next day, rolling up my blanket, I started on my return to the Big
Cane. After traveling five miles, at a place called Huff Power, the
ever-present Tibeats met me in the road. He inquired why I was going
back so soon, and when informed I was anxious to return by the time I
was directed, he said I need go no farther than the next plantation,
as he had that day sold me to Edwin Epps. We walked down into the
yard, where we met the latter gentleman, who examined me, and asked
me the usual questions propounded by purchasers. Having been duly
delivered over, I was ordered to the quarters, and at the same time
directed to make a hoe and axe handle for myself.

I was now no longer the property of Tibeats--his dog, his brute,
dreading his wrath and cruelty day and night; and whoever or whatever
my new master might prove to be, I could not, certainly, regret the
change. So it was good news when the sale was announced, and with a
sigh of relief I sat down for the first time in my new abode.

Tibeats soon after disappeared from that section of the country.
Once afterwards, and only once, I caught a glimpse of him. It was
many miles from Bayou Boeuf. He was seated in the doorway of a low
groggery. I was passing, in a drove of slaves, through St. Mary's
parish.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The next day, Solomon works in Mistress Ford's garden to show his appreciation to her and Ford. Ford takes him to the bayou the next morning. Solomon's heart is heavy as he looks on the beauty of the Pine Woods, knowing he will probably be sold elsewhere. Ford speaks to him of God, His power, and His goodness. They encounter Tibeats along the way, who sneers at how fast a runner Solomon is. Ford tells him that it is shameful to attack a slave with a broad-axe and hatchet and that he must sell him because they can no longer work together. A white man named Mr. Eldret, who lives below Ford, hires Solomon to work in the Big Cane Brake for a time. They travel down to Sutton's Field, a place once lived in by a solitary white man who was killed by Native Americans; the place is now said to be haunted. They reach Eldret's wild lands; the very next morning, Solomon starts cutting cane away to build two cabins: one for the slaves, and one for Myers and Eldret. The major annoyances are the insects, but Solomon is mightily relieved to be away from Tibeats. Eldret promises he can visit his friends at Ford's in four weeks, which he looks forward to. Tibeats appears on the day when Solomon is supposed to go to Ford's; Eldret assures him that Solomon worked hard and he told him he could go. Tibeats writes him a pass reluctantly. Solomon explains to the reader that a pass allows a slave to travel unmolested. Most of the time, rich men leave the slaves alone, but unscrupulous men ask to see the pass, perhaps hoping to luck into capturing a slave and making money. With a pass, a slave can seek victuals at any plantation in Louisiana. Solomon arrives. He sees Eliza, who is a mere shell of her former self. He relates to the reader how he later learns about her death. She became helpless, would do nothing, and collapsed in her cabin. Her master at that time did nothing to help her or eliminate her, and she died. After his visit, Solomon makes his way back to Eldret's, but Tibeats meets him and tells him he has been sold to Edwin Epps. Solomon is pleased to be away from Tibeats. He tells the reader that he only would only see Tibeats one more time: when he passed with other slaves through Bayou Boeuf and caught sight of Tibeats in a slovenly groggery