The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan WarAimard, Gustave
History
The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan War
Aimard, Gustave
Texas -- History -- To 1846 -- Fiction; Western stories
"Perhaps so, but I shall not discuss that point.
"About a month ago, a large sale was announced at Baton Rouge, of slaves
of both sexes, belonging to a rich gentleman who had died suddenly, and
I proceeded there. Among the slaves exposed for sale was Quoniam. The
rascal is young, active, and vigorous; he has a bold and intelligent
look; so he naturally pleased me at the first glance, and I felt
desirous to buy him. I went up and questioned him; and the scamp
answered me word for word as follows, which put me out of countenance
for a moment, I confess.
"'Master, I do not advise you to buy me, for I have sworn to be free or
die; whatever you may do to prevent me, I warn you that I shall escape.
Now you can do as you please.'
"This clear and peremptory declaration piqued me, 'We shall see,' I said
to him, and then went to find the auctioneer. The latter, who was a
friend of mine, dissuaded me from buying Quoniam, giving me reasons,
each better than the other, against doing so. But my mind was made up,
and I stuck to it. Quoniam was knocked down to me for ninety dollars, an
absurd price for a Negro of his age, and built as he is; but no one
would have him at any price. I put irons on him, and took him away, not
to my house, but to the prison, so that I might feel sure he would not
escape. The next day, when I returned to the prison, Quoniam was gone;
he had kept his word.
"At the end of two days he was caught again; the same evening he was off
once more, and it was impossible for me to discover how he had foiled
the plans I had formed to restrain him. This has been going on for a
month; a week ago he escaped again, and since then I have been in search
of him; despairing of being able to keep him, I got into a passion, and
started after him, this time with my blood-hounds, resolved to finish,
once for all, with this accursed Negro, who constantly slips through my
fingers like a lizard."
"That is to say," the Canadian remarked, who had listened with interest
to the dealer's story, "you would not have hesitated to kill him."
"That I should, for the confounded scamp is so crafty; he has so
constantly taken me in, that I have grown to hate him."
"Listen in your turn, Mr. John Davis; I am not rich, but a long way from
it. What do I need gold or silver, as a man of the desert to whom
Heaven supplies daily food so liberally? This Quoniam, who is so eager
for liberty and the open air, inspires me with a lively interest, and I
wish to try and give him that freedom to which he so persistently
aspires. This is what I propose; I have in my canoe three jaguar skins
and twelve beaver skins, which, if sold at any town of the Union, will
be worth from one hundred and fifty to two hundred dollars; take them,
and let all be finished."
The dealer looked at him with a surprise mingled with a certain degree
of kindliness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account