The Journal of Negro History, Volume 3, 1918 — John Shaqi
The Journal of Negro History, Volume 3, 1918Various
History
The Journal of Negro History, Volume 3, 1918
Various
African Americans -- Periodicals
"How far is it to Canada?" He gave me a peculiar look, and in a minute
I saw he knew all. "Want to go to Canada? Come along with us, then.
Our captain's a fine fellow. We're going to Buffalo." "Buffalo; how
far is that from Canada?" "Don't you know, man? Just across the
river." I now opened my mind frankly to him, and told him about my
wife and children. "I'll speak to the captain," said he. He did so,
and in a moment the captain took me aside, and said, "The Doctor says
you want to go to Buffalo with your family." "Yes, sir." "Well why not
go with me?" was his frank reply. "Doctor says you've got a family."
"Yes, sir." "Where do you stop?" "About a mile back." "How long have
you been here." "No time," I answered, after a moment's hesitation.
"Come, my good fellow, tell us all about it. You're running away,
ain't you?" Henson saw that he was a friend, and opened his heart to
him. "How long will it take you to get ready?" "Be here in half an
hour, sir." "Well go along and get them." Off I started; but, before I
had run fifty feet, he called me back. "Stop," said he; "you go on
getting the grain in. When we get off, I'll lay to over opposite that
island, and send a boat back. There's a lot of regular nigger-catchers
in the town below, and they might suspect if you brought your party
out of the bush by daylight." I worked away with a will. Soon the two
or three hundred bushels of corn were aboard, the hatches fastened
down, the anchor raised, and the sails hoisted. I watched the vessel
with intense interest as she left her moorings. Away she went before
the free breeze. Already she seemed beyond the spot at which the
captain agreed to lay to, and still she flew along. My heart sank
within me; so near deliverance, and again to have my hopes blasted,
again to be cast on my own resources. I felt that they had been making
a mock of my misery. The sun had sunk to rest, and the purple and gold
of the west were fading away into gray. Suddenly, however, as I gazed
with weary heart the vessel swung round into the wind, the sails
flapped, and she stood motionless. A moment more, and a boat was
lowered from her stern, and with steady stroke made for the point at
which I stood. I felt that my hour of release had come. On she came,
and in ten minutes she rode up handsomely on the beach. My black
friend and two sailors jumped out, and we started on at once for my
wife and children. To my horror, they were gone from the place where I
left them. Overpowered with fear, I supposed they had been found and
carried off. There was no time to lose, and the men told me I would
have to go alone. Just at the point of despair, however, I stumbled on
one of the children. My wife it seemed, alarmed at my long absence,
had given up all for lost, and supposed I had fallen into the hands of
the enemy. When she heard my voice, mingled with those of the others,
she thought my captors were leading me back to make me discover my
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