Isaac Perry can prove it--or my uncle. But, my
uncle will not do it--and Isaac is not to be found. I discovered that
when I reached Richmond two nights afterwards. He had left nearly
three weeks before, never to return, it was said.
"Well, to make it short, I hit my darky guard over the head with a
chunk of stove-wood. I hated to do it, but it was the only chance. You
can't kill a nigger by hitting him on the head. Then I crawled through
a small hole in the cellar wall into the potato bins beyond. From
there I could easily get into the back yard, provided no one was
watching. They were all on the other side of the wing, discussing the
murder--and me. They said I'd surely be lynched the next night. Oh, it
was awful. I crawled out of the window hole and sneaked off toward the
hen-houses, below the old slave building. I don't know when they
missed me. I only know that I reached the woods and ran and ran till I
thought I should drop. Some other time I will tell you of all I went
through during the next week. You won't believe a lot of it, I know,--
it was so dreadful. There were a good many times when I was ready to
give up, and a good many times when they almost had me.
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