The remainder of the day indolent old Cupe sat in his chair, seemingly contented when awake, but it would have been difficult to say just how much of the time he was awake. Occasionally he hummed a negro melody, again he would change the exhausted tobacco leaf between his lips for a fresh one, but much of the time with closed eyes he sat motionless. Just before the setting sun reached the horizon its slanting rays streamed into his face, and then he called to Dinah: �Brung de ole slippahs ob de honey chile and call Dgawge into de cabin an� den shet bof de doahs, an� keep him dah.�
Dinah obeyed without question.
Cupe took two tobacco-sticks and fastened the shoes, one to the end of each. He began then to walk sideways, holding the sticks at arm�s length, so that the shoes hung near the earth far outside his own tracks. In this manner he slowly passed along, and as he did so caused the shoes to step as if a child were walking parallel with his own footsteps. Across the dooryard, over the fence, down and across the little creek at the base of the hill, he trudged, and then, making a circuit, he came back again to the starting-place.
�De deed am done, an� now dis nigger �ll see ef Dgawge Wash�n�t�n am in fix fo� de work ob his life. Let de dawg out, Dinah! Come here, Dgawge.� The dog trotted out of the house. Taking the nose of the brute between his thumb and finger, as he had done before, the negro muttered: �Et am cool an� pleasant like t� de touch�de nose am fixed fo� de work. Yo� see dese slippahs, Dgawge?��and Cupe held them before the eyes of the dog��Yo� see dese heah slippahs?�
The dog whined gently.
�Yo� am no fool, Dgawge, but yo� bettah smell de leather, fo� yo� hain�t no time fo� �stakes now,� and with these words the shoes were held to the dog�s nose.
�Now am yo� ready fo� de test ob yoah life, Dgawge? Go fin� Susie! Go fin� de chile! Hunt fo� Susie, Dgawge!�
At once the old cur thrust his nose close to the earth and began a zigzag trot about the dooryard. Cupe watched him intently, and when he neared the trail of the slippers became visibly excited. At this instant the hound stopped; raising his head and dropping his lower jaw slightly, he gave a cry that stirred the heart of his master with pleasure.
�Yo� am tellin� de truff, suah! Yo� am de crittah what kin keep yoah nose cool ef de weddah am wahm. Fin� Susie, Dgawge! Go fo� Susie!�
In reply, the dog started in a long lope with extended nose scarce depressed toward the earth, thus showing the acuteness of the trail; following the exact course of the circle Cupe had made, he returned to the starting-point. �Yo� am a daisy of a dawg, yo� hab wo�k t� do, but yo� don�t git no suppah till yo� do et. Keep yoah nose cool, Dgawge.�
Carefully putting the slippers into his breeches� pocket, Cupe, in obedience to the call of Dinah, stepped inside his cabin to partake of his own supper, while the hungry dog lingered outside the door.
Returning after the meal was over, the old man looked at the star-bedecked sky, from which the last twinge of twilight was fast fading, and then glanced at the spot where his dumb comrade rested.
�De hour hab come, Dgawge, de hour ob trial.�
Slipping on a roundabout jacket that hung on a nail near the corn-shuck chair, and thrusting into its pocket a twist of leaf-tobacco, the old man turned to the open door. �Dinah,� he said, �ef yo� doan see de dawg an� me befo� mahn�n, dah ain�t no cause fo� feah.�
�De moon doan rose �til midnight; what fo� yo� go ahftah de coon now?� asked Dinah.
�Nebbah yo� min� de moon; dah am uddah crittahs dan coons.�
�Yo� hab lef� yoah ax, Cupe, yo� hab lef� yoah ax!� cried Dinah, as her husband disappeared in the gloom.
�Dah am no need fo� de ax t�night; de crittah what we hunts now am not in de tree no� in de grapevine tangle.�
The huntsman and his dog were now alone together in the starlight.
Taking the path toward Stringtown, their course led them toward the brow of the hill. But before reaching the hill Cupe struck the toe of his left foot violently against a projecting stone. He immediately stopped, turned back, retraced his steps to the door of the cabin, and then recommenced his journey, muttering:
�Ef et had be�n the right toe, et �ud hab be�n a sign ob good luck, but t� stump de lef� toe am an ebil sign. Dah ain�t no resk t� be run t�-night. Dah ain�t---.�
The slave stopped, his bent body sunk yet nearer the earth; his mouth, still open, left the sentence incomplete. He heard a rustle in the grass just before him, and then a full-grown rabbit hopped into the path, halted momentarily, turned its great eyes, that yet glittered in the dusk, full upon the negro, and with a bound crossed the path and disappeared in the briars.
�De wussest sign what could be; de rabbet nebbah cross de paff outen de journey am leadin� t� hahm. An� et stop t� say, �Go back, go back, yo� nigger, go back!� De crittah say et wid ets eyes. Monstrous bad am de endin� ob de walk ob de man who go on when de rabbet cross de paff ahead ob him. Dat wah not a libbin� rabbet, fo� de dawg did n�t see er smell et. Et wah a hant.�
Back to the cabin went the negro and taking two objects from a string behind the door, he carefully placed them in his pocket. �De cha�ms wah fergotten, an� de hant rabbet know et�de cha�ms t� keep off de hoodoo from Dgawge Wash�n�t�n an� Cupe. Now de start am right.�
Having thus corrected a grave blunder, Cupe moved rapidly until he reached the brow of the hill. Leaving the path at this point, he sought a small thicket, within which, by daylight, could have been seen an enclosure of stone that marked the foundation of an old building. At each end of the ruin two piles of stones were crumbling in the weather, the debris of the chimneys of the haunted mansion.
�Dgawge,� said the negro addressing his dog, �yo� am in de sacredest spot on earf, de spot wha� de missus slep� her las� sleep. De shinin� face ob de suff�in� chile wah tu�n t� glory from wha� stan� de �simmon tree by yoah side. An� Cupe he kneel on de flo� ob de mansion what wha, an� hol� de dyin� han�. De sah�rin� times am back ag�in, Dgawge, de eye ob de missus look into de heaht ob de nigger, de sweet face rise up an� speak �bout de blos�m ob a chile she lebe wid Cupe an� Dinah.�
The old man knelt in the grass and raised his face to the star-lit heavens.
�De blos�m am an angel now a-singin� hal�ujahs wid its muddah, but wha� am de Susie chile what take its place? Cupe am sah�rin� fo� de Susie gearl case he swar� t� watch obah de new chile. Dgawge, yo� kin smell tings what Cupe caint smell, but yo� caint see all de tings dat de nigger kin see. Ef yo� could an �ud look to�ard de ole well yo� �ud see a man stan�a man, Dgawge�de ole ma�se dat hab walked an� walked an�caint git no res�. He play keards when de chile wah bohn an� swar� at de sweet missus once too many times, an� fo� dat debbilemnt he hab t� walk de briar patch now. Cussed be de man who bring trouble t� a young muddah. Dah ain�t no peace on earf, dah ain�t no place in Heaben, de debbil hab no use fo� sech a sperrit. Yo� caint see him, Dgwage. Ef yo� could see what Cupe see, yo� �ud stick yoah tail �tween yoah legs an� run home t� Dinah. Come on, Dgawge, dah ain�t no moah time fo� hant seein�, we hab work t� do t�-night.�
George and his master started, and soon the cry of the old hound floated in the air, and at once a whistle loud and shrill broke from the lips of Cupe. �Come heah, Dgawge! Come back, Dgawge Wash�n�t�n!�
Obedient to the command, the dog came to his side.
�Yo mus� n�t act up any fool tricks t�-night, I tole yo�! De rabbet am all right when we hunt rabbet, but et am no fo� yo� dis yocasion. No moah rabbet, Dgawge,� and the old man boxed the ears of his friend. �Now walk b�hin� till I tole yo� t�hunt.�
The negro strode forward, the dog, with hanging head, following at his heels until the lights of Stringtown came into view. Stopping then, the old man crouched in the grass and again spoke: �Dgawge, dah am no coon, no �possum, no rabbet t�-night. De time am come fo� wo�k, an� ef yo� doan wo�k t�-night, de end ob yoah life am heah.� Feeling of the dog�s nose, the negro chuckled, and then taking the little shoes out of his pocket, he held them before the eyes of the dog and touched them once more to his nose. �Hunt fo� Susie, Dgawge! hunt fo� Susie! slow,� as the dog started off, �slow, Dgawge; de night am long.�
The dog disappeared in the darkness, and Cupe, turning his steps so as to inscribe a circle about the Stringtown lights, wended his way slowly over the uneven land. From time to time he stopped to cheer the sagacious hound, which could be heard pressing through the bushes and occasionally, when on a ridge, could be seen pictured against the sky. Old Cupe, accustomed to nocturnal exploits with the dumb brute, knew exactly what he was doing as he circled about, and needed nothing more than the occasional sounds, that to an inexperienced ear would have conveyed no meaning, could they have been heard, to tell that the faithful animal was scouring every foot of territory in the vicinity. At last the steps of the negro led to a grapevine thicket in a ravine, and soon from its depths a loud howl came, a howl that to other persons than Cupe would have sounded exactly like the cry that led to the punishment of the dog at the time his ears were boxed for trailing a rabbit.
The cry had hardly subsided before Cupe gave a whistle, and soon the dog came to his side. �Dgawge, de �possum am sweet t� de taste when the sweet�-tatah an� de frost am heah, but not t�-night. Yo� hab bettah wo�k t� do dan tree de �possum, Dgawge,� and again the patient creature�s ears were boxed. �Now min� yoah nose, Dgawge,� and Cupe touched it again with the little shoe. �Hunt fo� Susie, Dgawge, hunt fo� Susie!�
The ground was slowly covered, fields of corn, open pasture, waste briar patches and woodlands. The Stringtown pike was crossed below the village, and on the return circuit crossed again above it, near the home of Mr. Nordman, the old Kentucky gentleman; the Mt. Carmel pike was also crossed and the heavy beechwood at the junction was passed, and yet no evidence of the movements of the dog and master could be heard other than the sound made by an occasional broken stick or a rustle of the bushes. Then, at last, the discouraged negro realized that he had completed the circuit of the village, for he stood near the spot where the circle began. The old man called his dog, and when he approached spoke to him as only a deeply earnest negro of the olden time could speak to a dumb brute. �De sign wah bad, fo� et wah de lef� toe, but did n�t Cupe go back an� staht ag�in? De ebil ob de sign was chahmed away, suah. De fault am not wid de nigger, but wid de dawg. Yo� am not workin�, Dgawge, yo� hab been foolin� yoah time away.� The harangue ended with a threat and the information that the village must again be tramped about, and that the next circle must be larger. Again they started around the village, but before doing so receded from the previous circle, so that this circuit would be much greater than the other. Patiently they passed over the land as they had done before, until the Stringtown pike below the village was reached. At this point, just as the negro prepared to climb the rail fence, he stopped and then sank upon the ground. �Stan� still, Dgawge,� he slowly muttered; �dah am dangah in de ole pike; stan� still.�
Peering through the rails, the kneeling negro saw, first, two silent horsemen approach; following which came a troop of about a hundred men, riding two abreast. When opposite the negro the troop halted, and then from beneath an adjacent tree a slight figure stepped to the side of the leader of the band, spoke a few words and disappeared toward the village. The troop resumed its way, and at last, about as far behind the cavalrymen as the advance guard had preceded them, came the rearguard of two horsemen.
The tramp of the horses� feet, the occasional rattling of a saber against a wooden stirrup, the smothered cough of an afflicted rider, and the cavalcade that had been pictured against the starry skies disappeared in the gloom.
�Dah am sorrah com�n� t� someone t�-night; de cav�lry doan trabel at midnight fo� fun. Befo� dis raid am obah some rebel boy �ll be to�n from de muddah what he come home t� see. Ef I knowed who dem blue coats wah ahftah! Damn dat young cuss, dah am mischief in de air, but dah am uddah wo�k fo� Cupe t�-night. Dah am trouble fo� uddahs as well es de rebel boy.�
He moved on; the two pikes were crossed, the shadows of the beechwood were traversed and the second circuit of the village nearly completed when a cry from the dog broke upon the air, a cry that brought old Cupe to a stop so sudden that the foot was arrested in the air, slowly lowered, and then the negro fell upon his knees. No whistle broke from his lips this time, no scolding of George Washington, but in its stead the murmured words: �De Lawd be praised! stan� still, Dgawge Wash�n�t�n. De track ob de chile am foun�. Steady, Dgawge, stan� steady, Dgawge Wash�n�t�n.� Rising, he advanced to the spot from which the cry had come, and kneeling again beside the dog the thankful negro burst into tears and threw his arms about the dumb brute�s neck. As he knelt thus the full moon slowly arose, for the night had half wasted away, and yet not until it threw a broad glare did patient Cupe give the command to move onward. Then he said: �Slow, Dgawge. Go t� Susie, Dgawge. Steady, ole man,� and the dog leaped into the darkness.
The slow, creeping motion that had characterized the movements of Cupe during the night now changed to a trot; the steps were long, and he rapidly covered the ground. A howl came regularly from the throat of his unseen leader, a howl that to Cupe�s practiced ear was sufficient to keep him fast in the trail. He used his eyes to avoid obstructions, but relied solely on his ear to keep track of the dog. The moon rose high into the heavens; woodland, meadow, and thicket were trodden with no change in the cry of the dog, no sound from the lips of his master. The child had wandered in zig-zag lines, had struggled through briars and bushed, over hills and through valleys�if, indeed, the dog were trailing the child. At last even Cupe grew doubtful, and whistled, which signal was understood as a command to stop. On reaching the brute, who in obedience rested in his tracks, the negro spoke as follows:
�Am yo� lyin�, Dgawge, am yo� lyin� or tellin� de truff? Ef de chile hab been wha� yo� hab trabeled, de yinnicent hab walked her legs off. Am yo� lyin�, Dgawge?� Stopping in the middle of the sentence, the speaker reached out his hand and picked from a briar a small piece of cloth, which he held before his eyes. The light of the moon fell full upon the fragment, and then Cupe completed the broken sentence��An� heah am de ansah�yo� am tellin� de truff. Go t� Susie, Dgawge, fo t� Susie.�
Back and forth, in and out, the man followed the cry of his dog that night, ever intent on the object of his search, hoping each moment to hear the bay announcing that the child had been found at last. But there came no change of note; the monotonous howl that first struck the ear was maintained, until at last a great loop had been made, and the step of the master, following the cry of the dog, turned toward a spot well known to the superstitious negro. Nearer and yet nearer they drew to the point that disturbed the mind of the slave, until at last he could no longer control his fear, but whistled to his companion, and together they came to a stand on the top of a grassy ridge.
�Yo bettah go slow, Dgawge. Dah am dangah in de air ef yo� go into de hainted hollah widout de cha�m. God bress de rabbet what cross de paff an� send us back fo� de cha�m. Hole still, Dgawge;� and taking from his pocket a rabbit-foot attached to a string, the negro hung it around the neck of his dumb friend. He drew another rabbit-foot charm from the same pocket and threw it around his own neck. �Go slow, Dgawge, de debbil am in Bloody Hollah. God help de chile ef de debbil fin� her dah.� The rabbit-foot charm even seemed not altogether to remove the distrust of the old man, who glanced uneasily about as he moved slowly into the valley. He mumbled to himself, possibly reciting a word charm, but still he kept bravely after the yelping hound.
At this point, when the dog had reached the base of the hill, he gave a yelp so different from the monotonous cry that had preceded it than even an inexperienced person would have noticed the change of tone. It was single, sharp yelp, followed by a loud, long cry that made the valley echo. The negro rushed forward, careless alike of ghost or goblin; and there, reclining on the grass, her head pillowed on a hillock that the slave knew only too well, was the object of the search.
The dog stretched himself upon the earth, licking the hand of his young mistress, and the moonlight threw its mellow rays over the hollow.
The frightened negro wasted no time; he raised the girl in his arms and rapidly left the valley of evil demons. His faithful dog, his night work at an end, weary and exhausted, with hanging head, followed at his heels. The grey of morning mingled with the moonlight as Cupe opened the door of his cabin, where old Dinah sat waiting for her husband. She gave a cry of joy as she recognized her young mistress; but Cupe, with the proverbial gruffness of such as he, said:
�Shet yoah mouf, yo� fool nigger, an� doan yo� wake de honey chile. Give Dgawge Wash�n�t�n� his suppah, fo� he hab done his wo�k.�