THEY asked us considerable many questions; wanted to know what we covered up the raft that way for, and laid by in the daytime instead of running -- was Jim a runaway nigger?
Says I: "Goodness sakes! would a runaway nigger run SOUTH ?" No, they allowed he wouldn't.

I had to account for things some way, so I says: "My folks was living in Pike County, in Missouri, where I was born, and they all died off but me and pa and my brother Ike.

Pa, he 'lowed he'd break up and go down and live with Uncle Ben, who's got a little one-horse place on the river, forty-four mile below Orleans.

Pa was pretty poor, and had some debts; so when he'd squared up there warn't nothing left but sixteen dollars and our nigger, Jim.

That warn't enough to take us fourteen hundred mile, deck passage nor no other way.