“Took yoah las’ look at de ole plantation, Dinah, res’ yoah eyes fo’ de las’ time on de lan’ wha’ yo’ wha’ bohn. De fragrance ob de cohn when et am in silk, de bread what yo’ make wid de frosted ’simmon an’ de cracklin’, de sweet-’tatah an’ ’possum am no moah fo’ yo’. De lan’ ob yo’ fahdah am no moah yoah home; trial an’ sorrah am t’ come fo’ de ole niggers in de cole Canerdy country.”
Dinah, sitting in the doorway, made no reply, and for a long time Cupe sat mute, lost in meditation.
“De ansah say dat de grabe hab cubbahed de body ob de missus an’ de body ob de ma’se, an’ dat de blos’m chile am dead an’ buried an’ dat Cupe hab done de long-made promise out. Et say dat when de dead am satisfied de backwa’d work ob man am done.”
Dinah looked into the face of her husband and asked: “Am yo’ suah de dead am satisfied?”
“Suah. Dinah, I is suah. De switch ob de weepin’ willah tree droop down an’ hang long obah de spot wha’ Cupe stick de twig obah sweet missus’ grabe; de cedah bough cubbahs de grabe ob de chile she call her blos’m. Dah am no yallah clay t’ be seen, but dah am trouble yit. Dah am trouble com’n’.
“When Cupe go las’ night t’ wha’ de ole house wah, he feel de touch ob de sperrit ob de dead. He look at de spot wha’ de bed ob de missus stan’ de night de blos’m wah bohn, an’ he speak t’ de missus like es ef she wah by his side, an’ den he lis’n fo’ de ansah. Dah wa’n’t no sound ob voice, but de ansah come out ob de air an’ out ob de moonlight.”
“What yo’ see t’ pint t’ new trouble?”
“When I sahch in de bed ob de sage, dah wah many young sage plants growin’; dey am moah dan a ninch high. Et wah not a week sense Cupe scratch dat bed obah, an’ now de seed am up. Dah am trouble fo’ de man what plant de seed ob sage an’ trouble fo’ him who let de sage seed sprout.” 1
“De sage am a suah sign. But am de sperrit ob ole ma’se satisfied?”
Low and husky was the reply. “He am walkin’ yit, but dat doan consahn us niggers. He swar’ at de unbohn babe, he cuss de new-made muddah, an’ he mus’ walk fo’ his own sins.”
“An’ Susie?”
“Et am fo’ de good ob dat chile dat de change mus’ come t’ yo’ an’ me. Kin we keep her cubbahed ferebah? She am sittin’ in de cabin in de mahn’n an’ in de cabin in de ebenin’. She am in de cabin all day long. She go out wid Cupe in de night fo’ a breff ob air, but de eyes am heaby an’ de mist hang low. She mus’ hav sunshine, an’ dah ain’t no chance heah.”
“An’ yo ’ll lebe de home wha’ yo’ wah bohn, de lan’ wha’ yo’ always lib, de grabe ob de ole fo’ks an’ de chillun fo’ de sake ob de strange chile?”
“Doan I tole yo’ so?”
“But yo’ am not yoah own ma’se, an’ I am not yoah nigger. Yo’ caint lebe an’ I caint go.”
“De papahs ob freedom wah drawn up by de missus befo’ she go t’ glory, de papahs am ready fo’ de Co’ht.”
“Fo’ bof ob us?”
“Fo’ Cupe.”
“An’ yo’ ’ud hab Dinah run ’way like de fiel’ nigger do?”
“Dah ain’t no use in yargyin’ wid a woman,” indignantly replied Cupe. “Shet yoah brack mouf, Dinah, git yoah duds* ready fo’ de long journey.”
At this point a slight change in the intensity of the light in the room caught the eye of the alert old man. “Tsh! He whispered, “dah am a shaddah on de flo’; tu’n yoah eyeball back, Dinah, an’ tole me what yo’ see befo’ de back windah.”
Cautiously the old woman raised her head so that a side glance could be taken of the window back of Cupe.
“Et am a boy.”
“An’ de head ob de boy am red, Dinah?”
“Suah.”
“Wha’ am Susie?”
“Playin’ wid de gourd doll.”
“An’ de boy kin see de chile?”
“He am lookin’ at de chile.”
“De deed mus’ be done; de Red-Head Boy hab seed de gearl, de spell am wo’kin’. Dgawge”—and Cupe addressed his sleeping dog—“Dgawge, tsh! tree ’em, Dgawge! Tree ’em quick!”
Bounding through the open door, the dog made a circuit around the house, and at once a cry of distress came from the window where the head of the boy had appeared. Shuffling through the door and around the cabin, Cupe found the dog standing over the prostrate form of the “Red-Head” Boy.
“An’ yo’ hab come at las’, yo’ ebil-spell chile!” Cupe gave this welcome and glared down into the face of the defiant boy, who scowled back at the old slave. “An’ so de debbil hab sent yo’ es de spell p’dicted, yo’ red-head cuss. De spell what say dat Cupe an’ Dinah an’ de chile mus’ lebe dere home, an’ dat when de doah am closed at las’ yo’ will sit alone in de cabin.”
Taking the prostrate boy by the ear, Cupe raised him to his feet, and face to face the two scowled a moment in silence. Then, still holding the ear firmly, the negro led the boy to the door of the cabin. “Brung my hat, Dinah, an’ brung de bottle what stan’ on de shelf.”
“De bottle am empty.”
“Did I ax yo’ fo’ a full bottle, yo’ fool nigger? What fo’ yo’ talk back? Brung me de bottle on de shelf like I says.”
This order brought the desired bottle, a pint flask. Putting it into his pocket, old Cupe spoke to the boy:
“Ef yo’ fool wid Cupe, yo’ am foolin’ wid yoah life, yo’ East Kaintuck scrub stock. What fo’ yo’ stop in God’s country? Why doan yo’ go on t’ Posey County, Engiany, wha’ de likes ob yo’ belong?”
The boy made no reply.
“I wah stan’n’ by de Stringtown pike when de wagon what held yoah debbilish carcass come down from de Kaintucky mount’ns, an’ jes den de ho’ses stop fo’ res’. Dah wah two scrawny ho’ses, foah dawgs, a coop ob chickens, a man an’ woman, a lot ob dirty chillum, an’ yoah red head.”
No reply from the boy.
“An when de quistion wah axed, ‘Wha’ yo’ come from?’ de ansah ob de man what dribe wah, ‘East Kaintuck mount’ns.’ An’ when de quistion was axed, ‘Wha’ yo’ gwine t’?’ de ansah wah, ‘Posey County, Engiany.’ ”
Still there was no answer.
“Why yo’ stop in Kaintuck, yo’ red-head cuss? Why yo’ not go on t’ Posey County, Engiany, wid de tribe what bring yo’ ?”
“Old Nordman is my uncle; I came to live with him,” said the boy surlily
“An yo’ brung shame on yoah uncle fo’ habin’ sech kin. Yo’ come from East Kaintuck t’ lib wid yoah Uncle Nordman, but de man who dribe dat wagon doan go on; he stop in de city an’ jine in de blue coat army. De moonlight am not bright, but Cupe am a nigger—he kin see in de night. Dat feller wah de man who cap’ned de cavalry on de Stringtown pike de uddah night, when yo’ slip from undah de tree an’ wispah in his eah. He wah de man.”
“I’ll get even with yo’, yo’ black nigger, fer I’ve seen the girl, an’ I”ll tell where she es.”
“Yo’ will?”
“Yes, an’ I’ll get the fifty dollars too. Mr. Wagner hes offered fifty dollars fo’ news of her.”
“Pint yoah nose fo’ home an’ walk slow, yo debbilish imp, ef yo’ run, de teef ob de dawg ’ll may yo’ wish yo’ had gone on wid de East Kaintuck litter an’ crost de ribbah, wha’ de likes ob yo’ b’long.”
The boy did not move nor say a word.
“Tu’n yoah face to’ard de pike like I tole yo’! Move, yo’ sorrel top, er I ’ll pull dis eah out by de root.”
The boy sullenly obeyed, but it was evident that Cupe intended to accompany him. With the old dog in front and the negro close behind, they started for the village. Before reaching it, however, at the command of Cupe, the course was changed, and passing through the fields along the village outskirts the group reached the pike near the house of Mr. Nordman, who, as usual on summer afternoons, was sitting on the front porch of his home.
On entering the yard Cupe took off his hat, and bowed low to the owner of the house. After the usual salutations had been exchanged, he said: “Dah am sadness obah yoah face, Ma’se Nordman, an’ I ’spec’ dah am sorrah obah de heaht ob de missus t’-day.”
“Yes, Cupe, we are in trouble.”
“An’ well yo’ may sorrah, fo’ dah am trouble in de house an’ dah am trouble out ob de house. Yo’ will ’scuse de nigger fo’ sayin’ et?”
“Say on.”
“Yo’ am sah’rin’ fo’ de chile, de rebel boy, what come t’ see his muddah?”
“Yes.”
“How come de Yankee sojers t’ fin’ out he wah home?”
“God only knows, Uncle Cupe. I did not think that I had an enemy in the world capable of stooping to such an act.”
At this juncture the Red-Head Boy attempted to walk away. Cupe eyes him as he turned toward the corner of the house and mildly observed:
“Chile, yo’ need n’t go; bettah yo’ stay an’ heah de conbersashun out, case Cupe hab sump’n’ t’ show yo’ in de pike when he go back.” The boy took the seemingly artless words as a command; he returned reluctantly and sat down on the edge of the porch.
“De Stringtown fo’ks doan know de rebel boy wah home?”
“Yes; many of them called to see him, but no man in Stringtown would inform on him.”
“His bruddah, Ma’se Jim, de Yankee cap’n, had be’n home too.”
“Yes; they met by appointment.”
“Yo’ hain’t no cause t’ spishun none ob de niggers?”
“No, Cupid; not one but would have made any sacrifice for that boy. His old auntie is crying now in the cabin.”
“Yo hain’t no cause t’ spishun no one on de place an’ no cause t’ spishun no one in de town? Monstrous strange! I ’spec’ de Yankees jes happen t’ come in de night an’ dey jes happen t’ stop befo’ yoah house. Pow’ful cu’yus. Dey station dere men at de back an’ at de front ob de house—jes happen t’ do it; dey make a ring ob muskets in de moonlight all ’roun’ de mansion. Den dat loud knock come on de doah, de sleepin’ chile wah pulled out ob bed, de han’cuffs slip obah his wrists, an’ he wah put on de back ob one ho’se what jes happen t’ hab an empty saddle.”
“Yes, so it seems,” answered Nordman meditatively.
“De sojers come wid only one empty saddle?”
No response.
“Dey go no fa’dah up de pike, but tu’n back ag’in?”
No reply.
“De niggers wah cryin’, de muddah wah cryin’, de ole man wah sw’arin’ in hims heaht an’ keepin’ up a monstrous t’inkin’, he am t’inkin’ an’ sw’arin’ yit. But yoah t’inkin’ doan do no good, de feller what tole on de boy am not foun’.”
“No.”
“Do yo’ know who cap’ned de blue coats?”
“He did not come into the house. However, he only did his duty unless—“ the old man paused.
Suddenly changing the subject, the negro said: “Yo’ mus’ ’scuse de pertness ob de quistions, but yo’ know dat Cupe hab b’en in trouble too;” he held up his branded hand and displayed the livid mark in its palm, “an’ dis am de fust chance he hab had t’ git de inwardness ob dis painful yocasion. Cupe did n’t come t’ see yo’ t’ be ’quisitive, he come t’ ax ef yo’ ’ud do him de kindness yo’ hab done so offen?”
A smile came over the face of the old Kentucky gentleman, and he thumped with his cane on the floor of the porch. A negro lad, dressed in a single garment that was sleeveless, beltless, legless, (a Lindsey shift), in obedience to the call soon stood before him.
“Pig, take Cupe’s bottle.”
Cupe took the empty flask from his pocket and handed it to the lad.
“Fill it out of the second barrel in the far cellar.”
Cupe made his best courtesy and the boy disappeared, to return shortly, holding the bottle filled with the amber liquid.
“T’ank yo’, Ma’se Nordman, yo’ liben de sperrit an’ gladden de heaht ob de nigger. Ef yo’ wan’ Cupe t’ sahve yo’, a word am all yo’ need say.” He turned to go, then suddenly resumed the thread of his former conversation.
“Ef yo’ fin’ dat de feller what cap’ned de sojers know de chile wah home an’ set de trap t’ cotch him?”
“If I could find the scoundrel I’d shoot him on sight.”
“An’ ef yo’ fin’ de feller what tole de sojers on de honey?”
“I’ll shoot him like a dog.”
The old darkey chuckled, courtesied low and turned again to depart. Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he said: “May de chile sittin’ at yoah feet, de boy, yo’ am so kind t’ come t’ de pike wid Cupe? Dah am a cu’yus track in de dust dat might yinterest de boy.”
“Go,” said Mr. Nordman.
Passing together to the edge of the pike, as if they were the best of friends, Cupe leaned over and pointed toward the smooth furrows in the dust; but this was merely a blind, for no track was to be seen.
“An’ yo’ come from East Kaintuck wid yoah mount’n manners,” he whispered. “Yo’ eat yoah own kinfo’ks dah, yo’ ’possum, an’ yo’ b’gin yoan debbilment heah by bitin’ de han’ ob de man what feed yo’, an’ who hain’t no spishun ob de sin in yoah heaht. De wicked deed am done an’ caint be undone, er Cupe ’ud squeeze yoah neck like es de pahson did de colonel.” Pointing into the dust, the negro continued: “Yo’ saw Susie in de cabin?”
The boy did not reply.
“Ansah de question; yo’ saw Susie in de cabin?”
“Yes.”
“Ef yo’ say one word t’ man er chile ’bout de gearl, Cupe ’ll tole Ma’se Nordman ’bout what he saw when yo’ meet de sojers on de Stringtown pike de night de raid wah made. Ef yo’ whispah de fac’ to any man Cupe ’ll choke yoah life out fust, an’ tell Ma’se Nordman ’bout who cap’ned de raiders second. So suah es God made Adam, yo’ debbil from East Kaintuck, ef ha’m come t’ de Susie chile, yoah red head ’ll stop hatchin’ debbilement in de lan’ wha’ yo’ hab no bis’ness t’ be. Min’ yoah mouf now, keep yoah han’ off dat fifty dollahs and sabe yoah neck.”
Straightening up, Cupe courtesied once more to the gentleman on the distant porch, and, together with his dog, passed from sight.
__________
1 To plant sage seed is a sign of death or severe sickness to one of the family.
* Duds, "a collection of articles of clothing". The word is usually found in the plural. It is of Middle English origin, and has a long history of American usage, with examples documented in 1792, 1805, 1825, and so on. Dictionary of American English on Historical Principles, Chicago, 1940, vol. 2, p. 841.