CHAPTER XII.

B. RANDOLPH TO V. CHEVILLERE.

"High Hills of the Santee, 18--.

"DEAR FRIEND,

"From the city of Savannah, I paid my first visit to our old

heathen dad, Neptune, and if first impressions of the sea were not

as common and as numerous as doggerel verses in a modern lady's

album, I might be tempted to become sublime for your edification.

I was rowed down from the city, in a beautiful boat made of a

single cypress, by the hands of the gentleman who was so polite as

to give me this gentle passage. By this you may know that they

take as much pride in their boats as the Venetians themselves. It

was beautifully painted, and rowed by eight well-formed negroes.

Inside of the seat at one end was a marooning chest, as they

called it, full of all kinds of liquors and cold meat, with the

necessary utensils for their use. The gentleman was an islander;

and during the few hours in which we were gliding over the

seventeen miles between the city and the ocean, he entertained me

with an account of his marooning expeditions. These are their

excursions upon the Sea Islands, for purposes of fishing and

hunting. These islanders are a peculiar, but delightful people;

however, I must not keep you too long in the sea-breeze; at some

other time, perhaps, I may indite you a history of these

hospitable and isolated gentlemen.

"When I left Savannah, I determined to pursue a different route

from the one by which I came. I therefore crossed the Savannah

river fifteen or sixteen miles above the city; I then crossed the

country in as straight a line as I could draw upon the map,

between the ferry and the high hills of Santee; and in a short

time found myself in as complete solitude as ever Crusoe

experienced upon his desolate island. Nothing was to be seen but

the tall and gloomy-looking pines, stretching away into the bosom

of the atmosphere, and the interminable sands which lay before me

as far as the eye could reach. Twilight presently came on, and

those horrible musicians, the tree-frogs, began to chirp and sing.

The dolorous note of the whippoorwill was heard, with a horn

accompaniment from the throat of a screech-owl. Here was a pretty

serenade for a man with his heart attuned for melody, and his

stomach attuned for a slash at a cold ham, for I had had no

dinner. I struck up an accompaniment from my own pipes, but I soon

found that the vacuum was too profound for a due modulation in

concert pitch with this sylvan band. I wished them all at the

d----l, with their shrill pipes and full crops, and set my horse,

or rather _your_ horse, at full gallop, in a vain effort to escape

from the intended honour; but the harder I rode, the more

enthusiastic they became. I soon made another comfortable

discovery; I found that I had been riding for the last two hours

in a perfect wilderness, in utter contempt of what two pioneer

wheels had made for a highway; nor could I tell the north from the

south, nor the east from the west, having foolishly enough turned

the horse round and round in order to gaze at the stars. 'Like

master like man,' my servant did the same, as if he could read in

the pine tops more than I could in the heavens. All my astronomy

had gone with my dinner; I could see nothing in the starry regions

but what is sometimes called the _Frying-pan_. Oh! the shades of

Thales of Miletus, who first imported astronomy into Greece! to

think that a bachelor of such heavenly arts could not look into

the face of the Frying-pan without thinking of grilled chickens

and rashers of bacon, and the crackling of fire, and the

sputtering of fat. I dismounted, and ordered Sam to do likewise,

and try to find me a piece of flint by which to strike a light; he

declared that he had not seen a stone or a rock since he came into

the Carolinas. 'So much for geology and astronomy,' said I. 'I

rader tink they all bad fur empty stumuck, masta,' said Sam,

considering himself privileged by the exigencies of the case.

'True enough, Sam,' said I, 'it would be an apt scholar that could

produce bread or a stone either by his learning, in our

circumstances.'

"As I mounted, Sam mounted, not a word more having been uttered;

he seemed to be aware of the fact, that language generally fails

with the food; a man's ideas in such a case run fast enough, but

they are all in humble life; below stairs, diving among pots, and

pans, and pantries, and receptacles for cold victuals. As the

ideas ran, so ran the horses, until the water began to splash our

legs from a thick bushy swamp, into which we found that we had

initiated ourselves. 'Now Sam,' said I, 'we are swamped.' Sam said

nothing aloud, but was evidently muttering something to himself,

being engaged, as I supposed, at his secret devotions, for you

must know that he would be a Puritan. Like most of his race,

however, he has more faith in the effect of singing hymns, than

devotions of any other kind. I saw that he was itching for a trial

at his usual relief in all his troubles. I therefore told him not

to suppress it on my account, but to give it free utterance; the

idea of it naturally excited ludicrous recollections of old Noll

and the veteran Rumpers, but Sam saw the new vein I had so

inappropriately fallen into, and therefore resisted his inward

strivings. I must say, _en passant_, that I think him honest and

sincere in his faith, I therefore do not ridicule him.

"We waded through the black regions of this little pandemonium for

some three-quarters of a mile, before the dry sand again greeted

our hearing. The Frying-pan still stared me in the face, and the

sylvan band still plied their pipes. We had not proceeded far by

land before we came directly against a fence. I was truly glad to

see it, for I was sure it must lead to some inhabited place, and

accordingly ordered Sam to let us into the field, which we found

to be an immense plain covered with cotton,--the most beautiful of

all crops. We rode between the rows, for many a weary foot, until

at length the glimmering of many lights greeted our longing eyes.

We made directly for them, and soon stood in the midst of an

immense negro quarter. On inquiring whether their master's house

was near at hand, we found that it was many miles distant. The

overseer's house, they told us, was not more than half a mile off;

but to these animals I have always had an utter aversion. I

therefore bought some fodder for the horses, and two fowls for

ourselves, from the _driver_, who had the privilege of raising

them, and employed his wife to pick and grill them upon the coals,

and a delightful and savoury prelude they soon sent up to my

famished senses; a heartier or a sweeter meal was never made than

I thus took; a fowl seasoned with salt, and a large pot of small

homminy, served direct to my mouth from a large wooden spoon,

without the cumbrous intervention of plates, knives, and forks.

Our meal being finished,--for you must know Sam and I dined at the

same time and from the same table, which was none other than the

ground floor, covered with the head of a barrel,--hunger is a

wonderful leveller of distinctions,--as I was saying, our meal

being finished, a goodly number of the more aged, respectable,

and intelligent blacks of the quarter assembled to entertain us,

or be entertained themselves, I scarcely know which. Many of these

negroes, I found, were born in Africa, and one poor tattooed

fellow claimed to be of royal blood. He told me that his father,

the king, had a hundred children. I asked if any of those present

could write; they replied that there was one man in the quarter

who could write in his own language, and several of them went out

and brought in a tall, bald-headed old fellow, who seemed to come

with great reluctance. After being told what was desired, he

acknowledged to me that he could write when he last tried, which

was many years previous. I took out my pocket-book, tore out a

blank leaf, and handing him a pen from my pocket inkstand,

requested him to give me a specimen. He took the head of the

barrel on his lap, and began, if I recollect right, on the right

side of the page; the following is a fac simile of his

performance:

[Illustration]

"The following is a liberal translation into English:--

"'In the name of God the merciful! the compassionate! God bless

our Lord Mohammed his prophet, and his descendants, and his

followers, and prosper them exceedingly. Praise be to God the

Lord of all creatures! the merciful, the compassionate king of

the day of judgment! Thee we adore, and of thee we implore

assistance! Guide us in the right way, the way of those with whom

thou art well pleased, and not of those with whom thou art angry,

nor of those who are in error. Amen!'

"The original is written in Arabic. The old fellow's name is

Charno, which it seems he has retained, after being enslaved,

contrary to their general custom in that respect. I became quite

affected and melancholy in talking to this venerable old man, and

you may judge from that rare circumstance that he is no common

character.

"I now fixed my saddle under my head in a cotton shed to rest for

the night; but, weary as I was, I could not directly get to sleep

for thinking of sandy deserts, old Charno, chicken suppers, negro

quarters, and Virginia Bell! You see she is still the heroine, let

my wanderings lay the scenes where they will.

"I have no doubt but you will say, on the reception of this

letter, 'Well! I thought Randolph would run his nose into all the

out-of-the-way places in Carolina,' I plead guilty! I have a sort

of natural instinct for unbeaten paths, and the one by which I

arrived at Belville shall be given in my next; until then, fare

thee well.

"B. RANDOLPH."

The Kentuckian in New-York; or, The Adventures of Three Southerns. Volume 1 (of 2) · 第 12 / 19 章