It was a bold thing for him to shelter me, and I could not ask him to do so; for, had I been found in his hut, he would have suffered the penalty of thirty-nine lashes on his bare back, if not something worse.

But Sandy was too generous to permit the fear of punishment to prevent his relieving a brother bondman from hunger and exposure; and, therefore, on his own motion, I accompanied him to his home, or rather to the home of his wife--for the house and lot were hers.

His wife was called up--for it was now about midnight--a fire was made, some Indian meal was soon mixed with salt and water, and an ash cake was baked in a hurry to relieve my hunger.

Sandy's wife was not behind him in kindness--both seemed to esteem it a privilege to succor me; for, although I was hated by Covey and by my master, I was loved by the colored people, because _they_ thought I was hated for my knowledge, and persecuted because I was feared.

I was the _only_ slave _now_ in that region who could read and write.