XV.
_AN ANTI-SLAVERY DOCUMENT ON BLACK PARCHMENT._
Penn was not surprised at this discovery. He had already recognized inPomp the hero of a story which he had heard before.
"But all this happened before I came to Tennessee, did it not? Have youlived in this cave ever since?"
"It is three years since I took to the mountains. But I have spent but alittle of that time here. Sometimes, for weeks together, I am away,tramping the hills, exploring the forests, sleeping on the ground in theopen air, living on fish, game, and fruits. That is in the summer time.Winters I burrow here."
"If you are so independent in your movements, why have you never escapedto the north?"
"Would I be any better off there? Does not the color of a negro's skin,even in your free states, render him an object of suspicion and hatred?What chance is there for a man like me?"
"Little--very true!" said Penn, sadly, contemplating the form of thepowerful and intelligent black, and thinking with indignation and shameof the prejudice which excludes men of his race from the privileges offree men, even in the free north.
"These crags," said the African, "do not look scornfully upon me becauseof the color of my skin. The watercourses sing for me their gladdestsongs, black as I am. And the serious trees seem to love me, even as Ilove them. It is a savage, lonely, but not unhappy life I lead--farbetter for a man like me than servitude here, or degradation at thenorth. I have one faithful human friend at least. Cudjo, cunning andcapricious as he seems, is capable of genuine devotion."
"Have you two been together long?"
"One day, a few weeks after I took to the mountains, I was watching foran animal which I heard rustling the foliage of a tree that grows up outof a chasm. I held my gun ready to fire, when I perceived that my animalwas something human. It climbed the tree, ran out on one of thebranches, leaped, like a squirrel, to some bushes that grew in the wallof the chasm, and soon pulled itself up to the top. Then I saw that itwas a man--and a black man. He came towards the spot where I wasconcealed, sauntering along, chewing now and then a leaf, and mutteringto himself; appearing as happy as a savage in his native woods, andperfectly unconscious of being observed. Suddenly I rose up, levellingmy gun. He uttered a yell of terror, and started to cast himself againinto the chasm. But with a threat I prevented him, and he threw himselfat my feet, begging me to grant him his life, and not to take him backto his master.
"'Who is your master?' said I.
"'Job Coombs was my master,' said he, 'but I left him.'
"'You are Cudjo, then!' said I,--for I had heard of him. He ran awayfrom a tolerably good master on account of unmercifully cruel treatmentfrom the overseer. But as he had been frightfully cut up the nightbefore he disappeared, it was generally believed he had crawled into ahole in the rocks somewhere, and died, and been eaten by buzzards. Butit seems that he had been concealed and cured by an old slave on theplantation named Pete."
"Coombs's Pete!" exclaimed Penn.
"You have good cause to remember the name!" said Pomp. "As soon as Cudjowas well enough to tramp, he took to the mountains. It was a couple ofyears afterwards that I met him. We soon came to an understanding, andhe conducted me to his cave. Here he lived. He has always kept up acommunication with some of his friends--especially with old Pete, whooften brings us provisions to a certain place, and supplies us withammunition. We give him game and skins, which he disposes of when hecan, generally to such men as Pepperill. He was going to Pepperill'shouse, after meeting Cudjo, that night when the patrolmen discovered andwhipped him. That led to Pepperill's punishment, and that led to yourbeing here."
"Does old Pete visit you since?"
"No, but he has sent us a message, and I have seen Pepperill."
"Not here!"
"Nobody ever comes here, sir. We have a place where we meet our friends;and as for Pepperill, I went to his house."
"That was bold in you!"
"Bold?" The negro smiled. "What will you say then when I tell you I havebeen in Bythewood's house, since I left him? I wanted my medicine-case,and the bullet-moulds that belong with the rifle. I entered his room,where he was asleep. I stood for a long time and looked at him by themoonlight. It was well for him he didn't wake!" said Pomp, with adancing light in his eye. "He did not; he slept well! Having got what Iwanted, I came away; but I had changed knives with him, and left minesticking in the bedstead over his head, so that he might know I had beenthere, and not accuse any one else of the theft."
"The sight of that knife must have given him a shudder, when he woke,and saw who had been there, and remembered his wrongs towards you!" saidPenn.
"Well it might!" said Pomp. "Come here, Cudjo."
Cudjo had just entered the cave, bringing some partridges which he hadcaught in traps.
"It's allus 'Cudjo! Cudjo do dis! Cudjo do dat!' What ye want o' Cudjo?"
Pomp paid no heed to the ill-natured response, but said calmly,addressing Penn,--
"I have told you my reasons for escaping out of slavery: now I will showyou Cudjo's."
The back of the deformed was stripped bare. Penn uttered a groan ofhorror at the sight.
"Dem's what ye call lickins!" said Cudjo, with a hideous grin over hisshoulder. "Dat ar am de oberseer's work."
"Good Heaven!" said Penn, sick at the sight of the scars. "I can'tendure it! Take him away!"
"Don't be 'fraid!" said Cudjo. "Feel of 'em, sar!" And taking Penn'shand, he seemed to experience a vindictive joy in passing it over hislash-furrowed flesh. "Not much skin dar, hey? Rough streaks along dar,hey? Needn't pull your hand away dat fashion, and shet yer eyes, andlook so white! It's all ober now. What if you'd seen dat back when 'twasfust cut up? or de mornin' arter? Shouldn't blame ye, if 't had made yesick den!"
"But what had you done to merit such cruelty?" exclaimed Penn, relievedwhen the back was covered.
"What me done? De oberseer didn't hap'm to like me; dat's what me done.But he did hap'm to like my gal; dat's more what me done! So he cut meup wid his own hand,--said me sassy, and wouldn't work. Coombs, him's agood man 'nuff,--neber found no fault 'long wid him; but debil take datar Silas Ropes!"
"Silas Ropes!"
"Him was Coombs's oberseer dem times," said Cudjo. "Him gi' me delickins; him got my gal--me owe him for dat!" And, with a ferociousgrimace, clinching his hands together as if he felt his enemy's throat,he gave a yell of rage which resounded through the cavern.
"Go about your work, Cudjo," said Pomp. "What do you think of that back,sir?"
"It is the most powerful anti-slavery document I ever saw!" said Penn.
"He is a native African," said Pomp. "He was brought to this country ayoung barbarian; and he has barely got civilized--hardly gotChristianized yet! I will make him tell you more of his history someday. Then you will no longer wonder that his lessons in Christian lovehave not made a saint of him! Now you must rest, while I help him getdinner."
The manner of cooking practised in the cave was exceedingly primitive.The partridges broiled over the fire, the potatoes roasted in the ashes,and the corn-cake baked in a kettle, the meal was prepared. Theartificial chamber was Cudjo's pantry. One of the giant's stools, havinga broad, flat surface, served as a table. On this were placed two orthree pewter plates, and as many odd cups and saucers. Cudjo had an oldcoffee-pot, in which he made strong black coffee. He could afford,however, neither sugar nor milk.
Penn's wants were first attended to. He picked the bones of a partridgelying in bed, and thought he had never tasted sweeter meat.
"With how few things men can live, and be comfortable! and what simplefare suffices for a healthy appetite!" he said to himself, watching Pompand Cudjo at their dinner. Pomp did not even drink coffee, but quenchedhis thirst with cold water dipped from a pool in the cave.