wagon I met filled me with hope and fear blended; hope that the wagon
contained my uncle and aunt, and fear that it did not. I rode on, on,
on, all that day, until my heart was sick with hope deferred. I had
received orders before starting that if I did not meet them that day to
return home. But I was so far from home, and with straining my eyes to
catch a glimpse of my uncle, added to my keen disappointment in not
seeing them, made me feel tired, sick, and worn out. So I stopped at a
friendly cabin that night, after telling the inmates who I was and what
my errand was. Early the next morning I was out, and the anxiety to see
my uncle was so great I thought I would ride out the road a short
distance in the hope of meeting him, notwithstanding my orders to return
home. After traveling about an hour I met the wagon containing uncle
Ben and his wife. The joy of that moment to me is inexpressible. Having
been deprived of mother and father he was the only relative my sisters
and myself could ever have any hopes of seeing again. My heart rejoiced
exceedingly. I was, as it were, a new boy entirely, so overcome was I.
We all arrived home that same day, and it was a much more pleasant trip
than I had taken the day before. On that day it was all anxiety, mixed
with hope and fear; to-day it was all joy and thanksgiving, again
proving uncle Ben's saying that "the darkest hour is always just before
day." My sisters were simply wild with joy when we arrived. They ran out
the road to meet, us crying, "There comes uncle Ben; we have one more
friend!" We were all comforted and rejoiced to a very great extent, and
we felt indeed that we had "one more friend" with us. We were as happy
as slaves could be, and spent all the time we could together--uncle Ben,
his wife, my sisters, and myself.

But Wilson harbored a grudge toward uncle Ben because he had to buy his
wife in order to get him, and had said that if he ever got Ben after he
ran away he would whip him to death. He treated Ben very well for the