after the cows was only a pretence; and when I thought the other had got
far enough away, I laid hold of the remaining one and tied her to the
bedstead; went into the closet and took a leg of mutton, and other
articles, such as bread and butter, and made my way out as quick as
possible; and when I got outside I rubbed my feet in some cow dung to
prevent the scent of the bloodhounds, and took to the woods, where I found
a sand hole, in which I remained all day. The night was dark, with a
drizzling rain; being very fit for travelling, I started again on my
journey, but being very cautious, I only managed about 24 miles that
night. Towards morning I met with a black, who told me that to Chester, in
Pennsylvania, was only twenty-six miles. During the day I again remained
in the woods, where I met a black man of the name of Geordie, whom I knew,
belonging to Rogers, and who had left two months before me, and he said he
had been in those woods five weeks. His appearance was shocking, and from
his long suffering and hardships he was difficult to know; and, as he was
hungry, I divided with him my leg of mutton and bread and butter, and I
was telling him how unwise it was to remain so long in one place, when we
were suddenly aroused by the well-known sounds of the hounds. In my fear
and surprise I was attempting for a tree, but was unable to mount before
they were upon me. In this emergency I called out the name of one of the
dogs, who was more familiar with me than the others, called Fly, and hit
my knee to attract her attention and it had the desired effect. She came
fondling towards me, accompanied by another called Jovial. I pulled out my
knife and cut the throat of Fly, upon which Jovial made an attempt to lay
hold of me and I caught him by the throat, which caused me to lose my
knife, but I held him fast by the windpipe, forcing my thumbs with as much
force as possible, and anxiously wishing for my knife to be in hands. I
made a powerful effort to fling him as far away as possible, and regained
my knife; but when I had thrown him there he lay, throttled to death. Not
so, Fly, who weltered in blood, and rolled about howling terribly, but not