Chapter IV

Karagwe went back, and on a paper wrote,-- "Your dog has harmed me not, and why should you, That I have never wronged, plot harm to me? You made me slave, you sold away my bride, And now you set your hounds upon my track, Because I seek the freedom that is mine. Though you have wronged me, still I do you good, For in an oak, the largest of the grove, Upon the cotton-field of Richard Wain, Hid in a hollow near the second limb, Is the lost deed that holds your house and lands." The paper fastened round the hound's strong neck, The negro bade him go, and forth he went; And Earl read what the slave had written down, And that day found the deed hid in the tree, And that day ceased pursuing any more.

For two long weeks the negro in the swamps Wandered toward the North, living at times On berries and on fruit. Above him leaned The tall trees, bower-like 'neath their wrestling arms; Beneath, the murky waters, black as death, Stirred only to the plunge of venomed things. The long, seared grasses clung to every bough Whose trailing robe hung near the sluggish lymph. And here and there, among the savage moss, Blossomed alone some snowy gold-spired flower, Like God's own church found in a heathen land. The birds o'erhead, that, plumaged like the morn, Caroled their sweetness, sang the holy psalms.

V.

But now across his path the negro found A belt of water falling with the tide. Two heavy logs he lashed, and launched them out, Then, with a pole for help in case of need, Sprang on the float, and drifted down the stream. Thus for two days he drifted, eating naught Except the berries growing near the shore. Then on a cool, bright morning, when the wind And tide agreed, he saw again the sea. Far off a buoy was tossing on the waves, Much like the red heart of the joyful deep-- Much like a heart upon a sea of life; And ships were in the offing, sailing on Like the vague ships that with our hopes and fears Put from their harbors to return no more.

VI.

The raft went oceanward. The negro raised Upon the pole the coat that he had worn, Hoping for succor from the distant ships; And not in vain; for ere the sun had set, Half starved, he clambered up a vessel's side, And found himself with friends, and on his way To freedom, 'neath the steadfast northern star.

VII.

Two years of war, two years of many tears, And Richard Wain, a captain of renown, In ranks led on by error, fought and fell.

Within the breast of Coralline, Stanley Thane Possessed acknowledged empire; all her love Was poured out on him, and her heart Stood like an emptied vase. Then from the North Came rumors of his daring, and the war Gloomed like a night about her,--he its star.