Twenty-Two Years a Slave, and Forty Years a Freeman: Embracing a Correspondence of Several Years, While President of Wilberforce Colony, London, Canada WestSteward, Austin
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Twenty-Two Years a Slave, and Forty Years a Freeman: Embracing a Correspondence of Several Years, While President of Wilberforce Colony, London, Canada West
Poor Rosa, could go no farther--her strength was all gone--and as her
emaciated husband laid her on the cold earth, he exclaimed, "Oh, dear God!
_must_ we, after all our efforts, starve in this dark wilderness! Beside
his fainting wife, he finally stretched himself, sheltered only by a few
bushes, and tried to compose himself to die! but resting a few moments
revived him, and he aroused himself, to make one more effort for life!
Stay you here, wife, and I will try once more to find the highway; it
cannot be far from here; and if I am taken, I will submit to my fate
without a struggle; we can but die." So saying, he left her, and began to
reconnoitre the country around them. Much sooner than he expected
he emerged from the wood, and not far distant he saw a house in the
direction from whence he came; being, however, as most of the slaves are,
superstitious, he thought it would be a bad omen to turn backward, and so
continued to look about him. It seemed, he said, that some unseen power
held him, for though starving as he was, he could not take a step in that
direction; and at last as he turned around, to his great joy, he saw
another dwelling a little way off, and toward that he hastened his now
lightened footsteps. With a palpitating heart, he approached the door and
knocked cautiously. The man of the house opened it, and as soon as he saw
him, he said, "You are a fugitive slave, but be not alarmed, come in; no
harm shall befall you here; I shall not inquire from whence you came; it
is enough for me to know that you are a human being in distress; consider
me your friend, and let me know your wants."
"Bread! Oh, for a morsel of bread!" said the famished creature, while his
hitherto wild and sunken eyes, began to distil grateful tears. The "good
Samaritan" stepped to another apartment and brought him a piece of bread,
which he expected to see him devour at once, but instead, he looked at
it wistfully, literally devouring it with his eyes; turned it over and
over, and at last stammered out, "my good master, without a piece of bread
for my poor starving wife, I can never swallow this, tempting as it is."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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