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It is impossible to conceive of a human creature more wholly desolateand forlorn than Eliza, when she turned her footsteps from Uncle Tom'scabin.

Her husband's suffering and dangers, and the danger of her child, allblended in her mind, with a confused and stunning sense of the risk shewas running, in leaving the only home she had ever known, and cuttingloose from the protection of a friend whom she loved and revered. Thenthere was the parting from every familiar object,--the place where shehad grown up, the trees under which she had played, the groves whereshe had walked many an evening in happier days, by the side of her younghusband,--everything, as it lay in the clear, frosty starlight, seemedto speak reproachfully to her, and ask her whither could she go from ahome like that?

But stronger than all was maternal love, wrought into a paroxysm offrenzy by the near approach of a fearful danger. Her boy was old enoughto have walked by her side, and, in an indifferent case, she would onlyhave led him by the hand; but now the bare thought of putting him outof her arms made her shudder, and she strained him to her bosom with aconvulsive grasp, as she went rapidly forward.

The frosty ground creaked beneath her feet, and she trembled at thesound; every quaking leaf and fluttering shadow sent the blood backwardto her heart, and quickened her footsteps. She wondered within herselfat the strength that seemed to be come upon her; for she felt the weightof her boy as if it had been a feather, and every flutter of fear seemedto increase the supernatural power that bore her on, while from herpale lips burst forth, in frequent ejaculations, the prayer to a Friendabove--"Lord, help! Lord, save me!"

If it were _your_ Harry, mother, or your Willie, that were going to betorn from you by a brutal trader, tomorrow morning,--if you had seen theman, and heard that the papers were signed and delivered, and you hadonly from twelve o'clock till morning to make good your escape,--howfast could _you_ walk? How many miles could you make in those few briefhours, with the darling at your bosom,--the little sleepy head on yourshoulder,--the small, soft arms trustingly holding on to your neck?

For the child slept. At first, the novelty and alarm kept him waking;but his mother so hurriedly repressed every breath or sound, and soassured him that if he were only still she would certainly save him,that he clung quietly round her neck, only asking, as he found himselfsinking to sleep,

"Mother, I don't need to keep awake, do I?"

"No, my darling; sleep, if you want to."

"But, mother, if I do get asleep, you won't let him get me?"

"No! so may God help me!" said his mother, with a paler cheek, and abrighter light in her large dark eyes.

"You're _sure_, an't you, mother?"

"Yes, _sure_!" said the mother, in a voice that startled herself; for itseemed to her to come from a spirit within, that was no part of her;and the boy dropped his little weary head on her shoulder, and was soonasleep. How the touch of those warm arms, the gentle breathings thatcame in her neck, seemed to add fire and spirit to her movements! Itseemed to her as if strength poured into her in electric streams,from every gentle touch and movement of the sleeping, confiding child.Sublime is the dominion of the mind over the body, that, for a time, canmake flesh and nerve impregnable, and string the sinews like steel, sothat the weak become so mighty.

The boundaries of the farm, the grove, the wood-lot, passed by herdizzily, as she walked on; and still she went, leaving one familiarobject after another, slacking not, pausing not, till reddening daylightfound her many a long mile from all traces of any familiar objects uponthe open highway.

She had often been, with her mistress, to visit some connections, in thelittle village of T----, not far from the Ohio river, and knew the roadwell. To go thither, to escape across the Ohio river, were the firsthurried outlines of her plan of escape; beyond that, she could only hopein God.

When horses and vehicles began to move along the highway, with thatalert perception peculiar to a state of excitement, and which seems tobe a sort of inspiration, she became aware that her headlong pace anddistracted air might bring on her remark and suspicion. She thereforeput the boy on the ground, and, adjusting her dress and bonnet,she walked on at as rapid a pace as she thought consistent with thepreservation of appearances. In her little bundle she had provided astore of cakes and apples, which she used as expedients for quickeningthe speed of the child, rolling the apple some yards before them, whenthe boy would run with all his might after it; and this ruse, oftenrepeated, carried them over many a half-mile.

After a while, they came to a thick patch of woodland, through whichmurmured a clear brook. As the child complained of hunger and thirst,she climbed over the fence with him; and, sitting down behind a largerock which concealed them from the road, she gave him a breakfast out ofher little package. The boy wondered and grieved that she could not eat;and when, putting his arms round her neck, he tried to wedge some ofhis cake into her mouth, it seemed to her that the rising in her throatwould choke her.

"No, no, Harry darling! mother can't eat till you are safe! We must goon--on--till we come to the river!" And she hurried again into the road,and again constrained herself to walk regularly and composedly forward.

She was many miles past any neighborhood where she was personally known.If she should chance to meet any who knew her, she reflected thatthe well-known kindness of the family would be of itself a blind tosuspicion, as making it an unlikely supposition that she could be afugitive. As she was also so white as not to be known as of coloredlineage, without a critical survey, and her child was white also, it wasmuch easier for her to pass on unsuspected.

On this presumption, she stopped at noon at a neat farmhouse, to restherself, and buy some dinner for her child and self; for, as the dangerdecreased with the distance, the supernatural tension of the nervoussystem lessened, and she found herself both weary and hungry.

The good woman, kindly and gossipping, seemed rather pleased thanotherwise with having somebody come in to talk with; and accepted,without examination, Eliza's statement, that she "was going on a littlepiece, to spend a week with her friends,"--all which she hoped in herheart might prove strictly true.

An hour before sunset, she entered the village of T----, by the Ohioriver, weary and foot-sore, but still strong in heart. Her first glancewas at the river, which lay, like Jordan, between her and the Canaan ofliberty on the other side.

It was now early spring, and the river was swollen and turbulent; greatcakes of floating ice were swinging heavily to and fro in the turbidwaters. Owing to the peculiar form of the shore on the Kentucky side,the land bending far out into the water, the ice had been lodged anddetained in great quantities, and the narrow channel which swept roundthe bend was full of ice, piled one cake over another, thus forminga temporary barrier to the descending ice, which lodged, and formed agreat, undulating raft, filling up the whole river, and extending almostto the Kentucky shore.

Eliza stood, for a moment, contemplating this unfavorable aspect ofthings, which she saw at once must prevent the usual ferry-boat fromrunning, and then turned into a small public house on the bank, to makea few inquiries.

The hostess, who was busy in various fizzing and stewing operations overthe fire, preparatory to the evening meal, stopped, with a fork in herhand, as Eliza's sweet and plaintive voice arrested her.

"What is it?" she said.

"Isn't there any ferry or boat, that takes people over to B----, now?"she said.

"No, indeed!" said the woman; "the boats has stopped running."

Eliza's look of dismay and disappointment struck the woman, and shesaid, inquiringly,

"May be you're wanting to get over?--anybody sick? Ye seem mightyanxious?"

"I've got a child that's very dangerous," said Eliza. "I never heard ofit till last night, and I've walked quite a piece today, in hopes to getto the ferry."

"Well, now, that's onlucky," said the woman, whose motherly sympathieswere much aroused; "I'm re'lly consarned for ye. Solomon!" she called,from the window, towards a small back building. A man, in leather apronand very dirty hands, appeared at the door.

"I say, Sol," said the woman, "is that ar man going to tote them bar'lsover tonight?"

"He said he should try, if 't was any way prudent," said the man.

"There's a man a piece down here, that's going over with some truck thisevening, if he durs' to; he'll be in here to supper tonight, so you'dbetter set down and wait. That's a sweet little fellow," added thewoman, offering him a cake.

But the child, wholly exhausted, cried with weariness.

"Poor fellow! he isn't used to walking, and I've hurried him on so,"said Eliza.

"Well, take him into this room," said the woman, opening into a smallbed-room, where stood a comfortable bed. Eliza laid the weary boy uponit, and held his hands in hers till he was fast asleep. For her therewas no rest. As a fire in her bones, the thought of the pursuer urgedher on; and she gazed with longing eyes on the sullen, surging watersthat lay between her and liberty.

Here we must take our leave of her for the present, to follow the courseof her pursuers.

Though Mrs. Shelby had promised that the dinner should be hurried ontable, yet it was soon seen, as the thing has often been seen before,that it required more than one to make a bargain. So, although the orderwas fairly given out in Haley's hearing, and carried to Aunt Chloe by atleast half a dozen juvenile messengers, that dignitary only gave certainvery gruff snorts, and tosses of her head, and went on with everyoperation in an unusually leisurely and circumstantial manner.

For some singular reason, an impression seemed to reign among theservants generally that Missis would not be particularly disobliged bydelay; and it was wonderful what a number of counter accidents occurredconstantly, to retard the course of things. One luckless wight contrivedto upset the gravy; and then gravy had to be got up _de novo_, withdue care and formality, Aunt Chloe watching and stirring with doggedprecision, answering shortly, to all suggestions of haste, that she"warn't a going to have raw gravy on the table, to help nobody'scatchings." One tumbled down with the water, and had to go to the springfor more; and another precipitated the butter into the path of events;and there was from time to time giggling news brought into the kitchenthat "Mas'r Haley was mighty oneasy, and that he couldn't sit in hischeer no ways, but was a walkin' and stalkin' to the winders and throughthe porch."

"Sarves him right!" said Aunt Chloe, indignantly. "He'll get wus noroneasy, one of these days, if he don't mend his ways. _His_ master'll besending for him, and then see how he'll look!"

"He'll go to torment, and no mistake," said little Jake.

"He desarves it!" said Aunt Chloe, grimly; "he's broke a many, many,many hearts,--I tell ye all!" she said, stopping, with a fork upliftedin her hands; "it's like what Mas'r George reads in Ravelations,--soulsa callin' under the altar! and a callin' on the Lord for vengeance onsich!--and by and by the Lord he'll hear 'em--so he will!"

Aunt Chloe, who was much revered in the kitchen, was listened to withopen mouth; and, the dinner being now fairly sent in, the whole kitchenwas at leisure to gossip with her, and to listen to her remarks.

"Sich'll be burnt up forever, and no mistake; won't ther?" said Andy.

"I'd be glad to see it, I'll be boun'," said little Jake.

"Chil'en!" said a voice, that made them all start. It was Uncle Tom, whohad come in, and stood listening to the conversation at the door.

"Chil'en!" he said, "I'm afeard you don't know what ye're sayin'.Forever is a _dre'ful_ word, chil'en; it's awful to think on 't. Yououghtenter wish that ar to any human crittur."

"We wouldn't to anybody but the soul-drivers," said Andy; "nobody canhelp wishing it to them, they 's so awful wicked."

"Don't natur herself kinder cry out on 'em?" said Aunt Chloe. "Don't deytear der suckin' baby right off his mother's breast, and sell him, andder little children as is crying and holding on by her clothes,--don'tdey pull 'em off and sells 'em? Don't dey tear wife and husband apart?"said Aunt Chloe, beginning to cry, "when it's jest takin' the very lifeon 'em?--and all the while does they feel one bit, don't dey drink andsmoke, and take it oncommon easy? Lor, if the devil don't get them,what's he good for?" And Aunt Chloe covered her face with her checkedapron, and began to sob in good earnest.

"Pray for them that 'spitefully use you, the good book says," says Tom.

"Pray for 'em!" said Aunt Chloe; "Lor, it's too tough! I can't pray for'em."

"It's natur, Chloe, and natur 's strong," said Tom, "but the Lord'sgrace is stronger; besides, you oughter think what an awful state a poorcrittur's soul 's in that'll do them ar things,--you oughter thankGod that you an't _like_ him, Chloe. I'm sure I'd rather be sold, tenthousand times over, than to have all that ar poor crittur's got toanswer for."

"So 'd I, a heap," said Jake. "Lor, _shouldn't_ we cotch it, Andy?"

Andy shrugged his shoulders, and gave an acquiescent whistle.

"I'm glad Mas'r didn't go off this morning, as he looked to," said Tom;"that ar hurt me more than sellin', it did. Mebbe it might have beennatural for him, but 't would have come desp't hard on me, as has knownhim from a baby; but I've seen Mas'r, and I begin ter feel sort o'reconciled to the Lord's will now. Mas'r couldn't help hisself; he didright, but I'm feared things will be kinder goin' to rack, when I'm goneMas'r can't be spected to be a pryin' round everywhar, as I've done, akeepin' up all the ends. The boys all means well, but they 's powerfulcar'less. That ar troubles me."

The bell here rang, and Tom was summoned to the parlor.

"Tom," said his master, kindly, "I want you to notice that I give thisgentleman bonds to forfeit a thousand dollars if you are not on the spotwhen he wants you; he's going today to look after his other business,and you can have the day to yourself. Go anywhere you like, boy."

"Thank you, Mas'r," said Tom.

"And mind yourself," said the trader, "and don't come it over yourmaster with any o' yer nigger tricks; for I'll take every cent out ofhim, if you an't thar. If he'd hear to me, he wouldn't trust any onye--slippery as eels!"

"Mas'r," said Tom,--and he stood very straight,--"I was jist eight yearsold when ole Missis put you into my arms, and you wasn't a year old.'Thar,' says she, 'Tom, that's to be _your_ young Mas'r; take good careon him,' says she. And now I jist ask you, Mas'r, have I ever broke wordto you, or gone contrary to you, 'specially since I was a Christian?"

Mr. Shelby was fairly overcome, and the tears rose to his eyes.

"My good boy," said he, "the Lord knows you say but the truth; and if Iwas able to help it, all the world shouldn't buy you."

"And sure as I am a Christian woman," said Mrs. Shelby, "you shall beredeemed as soon as I can any way bring together means. Sir," she said toHaley, "take good account of who you sell him to, and let me know."

"Lor, yes, for that matter," said the trader, "I may bring him up in ayear, not much the wuss for wear, and trade him back."

"I'll trade with you then, and make it for your advantage," said Mrs.Shelby.

"Of course," said the trader, "all 's equal with me; li'ves trade 'emup as down, so I does a good business. All I want is a livin', you know,ma'am; that's all any on us wants, I, s'pose."

Mr. and Mrs. Shelby both felt annoyed and degraded by the familiarimpudence of the trader, and yet both saw the absolute necessity ofputting a constraint on their feelings. The more hopelessly sordid andinsensible he appeared, the greater became Mrs. Shelby's dread of hissucceeding in recapturing Eliza and her child, and of course the greaterher motive for detaining him by every female artifice. She thereforegraciously smiled, assented, chatted familiarly, and did all she couldto make time pass imperceptibly.

At two o'clock Sam and Andy brought the horses up to the posts,apparently greatly refreshed and invigorated by the scamper of themorning.

Sam was there new oiled from dinner, with an abundance of zealousand ready officiousness. As Haley approached, he was boasting, inflourishing style, to Andy, of the evident and eminent success of theoperation, now that he had "farly come to it."

"Your master, I s'pose, don't keep no dogs," said Haley, thoughtfully,as he prepared to mount.

"Heaps on 'em," said Sam, triumphantly; "thar's Bruno--he's a roarer!and, besides that, 'bout every nigger of us keeps a pup of some natur oruther."

"Poh!" said Haley,--and he said something else, too, with regard to thesaid dogs, at which Sam muttered,

"I don't see no use cussin' on 'em, no way."

"But your master don't keep no dogs (I pretty much know he don't) fortrackin' out niggers."

Sam knew exactly what he meant, but he kept on a look of earnest anddesperate simplicity.

"Our dogs all smells round considable sharp. I spect they's the kind,though they han't never had no practice. They 's _far_ dogs, though,at most anything, if you'd get 'em started. Here, Bruno," he called,whistling to the lumbering Newfoundland, who came pitching tumultuouslytoward them.

"You go hang!" said Haley, getting up. "Come, tumble up now."

Sam tumbled up accordingly, dexterously contriving to tickle Andy ashe did so, which occasioned Andy to split out into a laugh, greatly toHaley's indignation, who made a cut at him with his riding-whip.

"I 's 'stonished at yer, Andy," said Sam, with awful gravity. "Thisyer's a seris bisness, Andy. Yer mustn't be a makin' game. This yer an'tno way to help Mas'r."

"I shall take the straight road to the river," said Haley, decidedly,after they had come to the boundaries of the estate. "I know the way ofall of 'em,--they makes tracks for the underground."

"Sartin," said Sam, "dat's de idee. Mas'r Haley hits de thing rightin de middle. Now, der's two roads to de river,--de dirt road and derpike,--which Mas'r mean to take?"

Andy looked up innocently at Sam, surprised at hearing this newgeographical fact, but instantly confirmed what he said, by a vehementreiteration.

"Cause," said Sam, "I'd rather be 'clined to 'magine that Lizy 'd takede dirt road, bein' it's the least travelled."

Haley, notwithstanding that he was a very old bird, and naturallyinclined to be suspicious of chaff, was rather brought up by this viewof the case.

"If yer warn't both on yer such cussed liars, now!" he said,contemplatively as he pondered a moment.

The pensive, reflective tone in which this was spoken appeared toamuse Andy prodigiously, and he drew a little behind, and shook so asapparently to run a great risk of failing off his horse, while Sam'sface was immovably composed into the most doleful gravity.

"Course," said Sam, "Mas'r can do as he'd ruther, go de straight road,if Mas'r thinks best,--it's all one to us. Now, when I study 'pon it, Ithink de straight road de best, _deridedly_."

"She would naturally go a lonesome way," said Haley, thinking aloud, andnot minding Sam's remark.

"Dar an't no sayin'," said Sam; "gals is pecular; they never doesnothin' ye thinks they will; mose gen'lly the contrary. Gals is nat'llymade contrary; and so, if you thinks they've gone one road, it is sartinyou'd better go t' other, and then you'll be sure to find 'em. Now, myprivate 'pinion is, Lizy took der road; so I think we'd better take destraight one."

This profound generic view of the female sex did not seem to disposeHaley particularly to the straight road, and he announced decidedly thathe should go the other, and asked Sam when they should come to it.

"A little piece ahead," said Sam, giving a wink to Andy with the eyewhich was on Andy's side of the head; and he added, gravely, "but I'vestudded on de matter, and I'm quite clar we ought not to go dat ar way.I nebber been over it no way. It's despit lonesome, and we might loseour way,--whar we'd come to, de Lord only knows."

"Nevertheless," said Haley, "I shall go that way."

"Now I think on 't, I think I hearn 'em tell that dat ar road was allfenced up and down by der creek, and thar, an't it, Andy?"

Andy wasn't certain; he'd only "hearn tell" about that road, but neverbeen over it. In short, he was strictly noncommittal.

Haley, accustomed to strike the balance of probabilities between liesof greater or lesser magnitude, thought that it lay in favor of the dirtroad aforesaid. The mention of the thing he thought he perceivedwas involuntary on Sam's part at first, and his confused attempts todissuade him he set down to a desperate lying on second thoughts, asbeing unwilling to implicate Liza.

When, therefore, Sam indicated the road, Haley plunged briskly into it,followed by Sam and Andy.

Now, the road, in fact, was an old one, that had formerly been athoroughfare to the river, but abandoned for many years after the layingof the new pike. It was open for about an hour's ride, and after that itwas cut across by various farms and fences. Sam knew this fact perfectlywell,--indeed, the road had been so long closed up, that Andy had neverheard of it. He therefore rode along with an air of dutiful submission,only groaning and vociferating occasionally that 't was "desp't rough,and bad for Jerry's foot."

"Now, I jest give yer warning," said Haley, "I know yer; yer won't getme to turn off this road, with all yer fussin'--so you shet up!"

"Mas'r will go his own way!" said Sam, with rueful submission, at thesame time winking most portentously to Andy, whose delight was now verynear the explosive point.

Sam was in wonderful spirits,--professed to keep a very brisklookout,--at one time exclaiming that he saw "a gal's bonnet" on the topof some distant eminence, or calling to Andy "if that thar wasn't 'Lizy'down in the hollow;" always making these exclamations in some roughor craggy part of the road, where the sudden quickening of speed was aspecial inconvenience to all parties concerned, and thus keeping Haleyin a state of constant commotion.

After riding about an hour in this way, the whole party made aprecipitate and tumultuous descent into a barn-yard belonging to a largefarming establishment. Not a soul was in sight, all the hands beingemployed in the fields; but, as the barn stood conspicuously and plainlysquare across the road, it was evident that their journey in thatdirection had reached a decided finale.

"Wan't dat ar what I telled Mas'r?" said Sam, with an air of injuredinnocence. "How does strange gentleman spect to know more about acountry dan de natives born and raised?"

"You rascal!" said Haley, "you knew all about this."

"Didn't I tell yer I _knowd_, and yer wouldn't believe me? I telledMas'r 't was all shet up, and fenced up, and I didn't spect we could getthrough,--Andy heard me."

It was all too true to be disputed, and the unlucky man had to pockethis wrath with the best grace he was able, and all three faced to theright about, and took up their line of march for the highway.

In consequence of all the various delays, it was about three-quartersof an hour after Eliza had laid her child to sleep in the village tavernthat the party came riding into the same place. Eliza was standingby the window, looking out in another direction, when Sam's quick eyecaught a glimpse of her. Haley and Andy were two yards behind. At thiscrisis, Sam contrived to have his hat blown off, and uttered a loudand characteristic ejaculation, which startled her at once; she drewsuddenly back; the whole train swept by the window, round to the frontdoor.

A thousand lives seemed to be concentrated in that one moment to Eliza.Her room opened by a side door to the river. She caught her child, andsprang down the steps towards it. The trader caught a full glimpse ofher just as she was disappearing down the bank; and throwing himselffrom his horse, and calling loudly on Sam and Andy, he was after herlike a hound after a deer. In that dizzy moment her feet to her scarceseemed to touch the ground, and a moment brought her to the water'sedge. Right on behind they came; and, nerved with strength such as Godgives only to the desperate, with one wild cry and flying leap, shevaulted sheer over the turbid current by the shore, on to the raft ofice beyond. It was a desperate leap--impossible to anything but madnessand despair; and Haley, Sam, and Andy, instinctively cried out, andlifted up their hands, as she did it.

The huge green fragment of ice on which she alighted pitched and creakedas her weight came on it, but she staid there not a moment. With wildcries and desperate energy she leaped to another and still another cake;stumbling--leaping--slipping--springing upwards again! Her shoes aregone--her stockings cut from her feet--while blood marked every step;but she saw nothing, felt nothing, till dimly, as in a dream, she sawthe Ohio side, and a man helping her up the bank.

"Yer a brave gal, now, whoever ye ar!" said the man, with an oath.

Eliza recognized the voice and face for a man who owned a farm not farfrom her old home.

"O, Mr. Symmes!--save me--do save me--do hide me!" said Elia.

"Why, what's this?" said the man. "Why, if 'tan't Shelby's gal!"

"My child!--this boy!--he'd sold him! There is his Mas'r," said she,pointing to the Kentucky shore. "O, Mr. Symmes, you've got a littleboy!"

"So I have," said the man, as he roughly, but kindly, drew her up thesteep bank. "Besides, you're a right brave gal. I like grit, wherever Isee it."

When they had gained the top of the bank, the man paused.

"I'd be glad to do something for ye," said he; "but then there's nowharI could take ye. The best I can do is to tell ye to go _thar_," saidhe, pointing to a large white house which stood by itself, off the mainstreet of the village. "Go thar; they're kind folks. Thar's no kind o'danger but they'll help you,--they're up to all that sort o' thing."

"The Lord bless you!" said Eliza, earnestly.

"No 'casion, no 'casion in the world," said the man. "What I've done'sof no 'count."

"And, oh, surely, sir, you won't tell any one!"

"Go to thunder, gal! What do you take a feller for? In course not," saidthe man. "Come, now, go along like a likely, sensible gal, as you are.You've arnt your liberty, and you shall have it, for all me."

The woman folded her child to her bosom, and walked firmly and swiftlyaway. The man stood and looked after her.

"Shelby, now, mebbe won't think this yer the most neighborly thing inthe world; but what's a feller to do? If he catches one of my gals inthe same fix, he's welcome to pay back. Somehow I never could see nokind o' critter a strivin' and pantin', and trying to clar theirselves,with the dogs arter 'em and go agin 'em. Besides, I don't see no kind of'casion for me to be hunter and catcher for other folks, neither."

So spoke this poor, heathenish Kentuckian, who had not been instructedin his constitutional relations, and consequently was betrayed intoacting in a sort of Christianized manner, which, if he had been bettersituated and more enlightened, he would not have been left to do.

Haley had stood a perfectly amazed spectator of the scene, till Elizahad disappeared up the bank, when he turned a blank, inquiring look onSam and Andy.

"That ar was a tolable fair stroke of business," said Sam.

"The gal 's got seven devils in her, I believe!" said Haley. "How like awildcat she jumped!"

"Wal, now," said Sam, scratching his head, "I hope Mas'r'll 'scuse ustrying dat ar road. Don't think I feel spry enough for dat ar, no way!"and Sam gave a hoarse chuckle.

"_You_ laugh!" said the trader, with a growl.

"Lord bless you, Mas'r, I couldn't help it now," said Sam, giving way tothe long pent-up delight of his soul. "She looked so curi's, a leapin'and springin'--ice a crackin'--and only to hear her,--plump! ker chunk!ker splash! Spring! Lord! how she goes it!" and Sam and Andy laughedtill the tears rolled down their cheeks.

"I'll make ye laugh t' other side yer mouths!" said the trader, layingabout their heads with his riding-whip.

Both ducked, and ran shouting up the bank, and were on their horsesbefore he was up.

"Good-evening, Mas'r!" said Sam, with much gravity. "I berry much spectMissis be anxious 'bout Jerry. Mas'r Haley won't want us no longer.Missis wouldn't hear of our ridin' the critters over Lizy's bridgetonight;" and, with a facetious poke into Andy's ribs, he started off,followed by the latter, at full speed,--their shouts of laughter comingfaintly on the wind.