Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 06
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 06
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
I had been with him about six months, and was literally naked; my skin
had become hard and brown as an Indian's; all my clothing consisted of
some pieces of sheep skin I had contrived for winter wear, and a straw
hat of coarse enough manufacture, which I had plaited and made for
myself on the Sabbath-days, to screen me from the intolerable glare
and heat of the sun. Our appearance gave us no concern, for we were
completely excluded from all intercourse with human beings, except
those upon the plantation; and strangers were seldom seen in our
neighbourhood. At the time I speak of, our master had been down to
Baltimore, with a waggon load of produce, consisting of pork and salted
beef, &c. He had made an excellent market, and returned in a fit of good
humour; at our return from labour, he called us three into the house, as
we were passing to our prison, to be locked up for the night. We were
surprised at the invitation, for we had never been within the walls of
the dwelling-house. As soon as we entered, he inquired if we would
purchase any clothing from him, seeing we were so much in want of them.
Scarcely could we believe our ears and eyes, when, opening a box, he
displayed canvas jackets, trousers, and check shirts.
'You surely mean to make sport with us,' said I; 'for you know well that
we have not one farthing among us three to purchase the smallest
necessary.'
'That, I guess, is not of much matter,' he replied, in his quiet, husky
manner, 'if I choose to give you a long credit.'
We at once agreed to his own terms, and I signed a bond for one hundred
dollars, for a pair of coarse canvas trousers, a jacket of the same, two
check shirts, and a good straw hat. My heart misgave me when I saw his
peculiar smile, as he placed my bond in his pocket-book. Pleased as I
was with my finery, I feared I had done wrong, but did not know to what
extent until next morning, when we joined the convicts at labour. As
soon as they saw us in our new dresses, they burst out into a loud
laugh.
'Oh!' said they, 'has the old villain limed his birds already? Poor
greenhorns, you have sold yourselves for years to come. How are you to
redeem the debts you have incurred, and others you must yet incur, but
by new engagements? He has you in his toils.' And they again laughed
aloud.
We resumed our labour with heavy hearts; despondency came upon us, and
we began to droop and pine. At night, when we retired to rest, and,
until overpowered by fatigue and sleep, we talked of nothing but plans
of escape. Numbers were formed and abandoned; to fly to the forests, we
must perish through hunger and fatigue, or wander on, unknowing where to
go; in the direction of the coast, was still more impracticable, for all
the planters were in league with each other, to prevent the escape of
the convicts and palantines, and no one could travel unmolested, without
a certificate of his freedom. Our situation appeared to us truly without
remeid, and bitterly did we lament our cruel fate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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