WE dasn't stop again at any
town for days and days; kept
right along down the river. We
was down south in the warm weather
now, and a mighty long ways from
home. We begun to come to trees
with Spanish moss on them, hanging
down from the limbs like long,
gray beards. It was the first
I ever see it growing, and it
made the woods look solemn and
dismal. So now the frauds reckoned
they was out of danger, and they
begun to work the villages again.
First they done a lecture on
temperance; but they didn't make
enough for them both to get drunk
on. Then in another village they
started a dancing-school; but
they didn't know no more how
to dance than a kangaroo does;
so the first prance they made
the general public jumped in
and pranced them out of town.
Another time they tried to go
at yellocution; but they didn't
yellocute long till the audience
got up and give them a solid
good cussing, and made them skip
out. They tackled missionarying,
and mesmerizing, and doctoring,
and telling fortunes, and a little
of everything; but they couldn't
seem to have no luck. So at last
they got just about dead broke,
and laid around the raft as she
floated along, thinking and thinking,
and never saying nothing, by
the half a day at a time, and
dreadful blue and desperate.
And at last
they took a change and begun
to lay their heads
together in the wigwam and talk
low and confidential two or three
hours at a time. Jim and me got
uneasy. We didn't like the look
of it. We judged they was studying
up some kind of worse deviltry
than ever. We turned it over
and over, and at last we made
up our minds they was going to
break into somebody's house or
store, or was going into the
counterfeitmoney business, or
something. So then we was pretty
scared, and made up an agreement
that we wouldn't have nothing
in the world to do with such
actions, and if we ever got the
least show we would give them
the cold shake and clear out
and leave them behind. Well,
early one morning we hid the
raft in a good, safe place about
two mile below a little bit of
a shabby village named Pikesville,
and the king he went ashore and
told us all to stay hid whilst
he went up to town and smelt
around to see if anybody had
got any wind of the Royal Nonesuch
there yet. ("House to rob, you
MEAN," says I to myself; "and
when you get through robbing
it you'll come back here and
wonder what has become of me
and Jim and the raft -- and you'll
have to take it out in wondering.")
And he said if he warn't back
by midday the duke and me would
know it was all right, and we
was to come along.
So we stayed where we was.
The duke he fretted and sweated
around, and was in a mighty sour
way. He scolded us for everything,
and we couldn't seem to do nothing
right; he found fault with every
little thing. Something was a-brewing,
sure. I was good and glad when
midday come and no king; we could
have a change, anyway -- and
maybe a chance for THE chance
on top of it. So me and the duke
went up to the village, and hunted
around there for the king, and
by and by we found him in the
back room of a little low doggery,
very tight, and a lot of loafers
bullyragging him for sport, and
he a-cussing and a-threatening
with all his might, and so tight
he couldn't walk, and couldn't
do nothing to them. The duke
he begun to abuse him for an
old fool, and the king begun
to sass back, and the minute
they was fairly at it I lit out
and shook the reefs out of my
hind legs, and spun down the
river road like a deer, for I
see our chance; and I made up
my mind that it would be a long
day before they ever see me and
Jim again. I got down there all
out of breath but loaded up with
joy, and sung out:
"Set her loose,
Jim! we're all right now!"
But there warn't no answer,
and nobody come out of the wigwam.
Jim was gone! I set up a shout
-- and then another -- and then
another one; and run this way
and that in the woods, whooping
and screeching; but it warn't
no use -- old Jim was gone. Then
I set down and cried; I couldn't
help it. But I couldn't set still
long. Pretty soon I went out
on the road, trying to think
what I better do, and I run across
a boy walking, and asked him
if he'd seen a strange nigger
dressed so and so, and he says:
"Yes."
"Whereabouts?" says
I.
"Down to Silas
Phelps' place, two mile below
here. He's a runaway
nigger, and they've got him.
Was you looking for him?"
"You bet I
ain't! I run across him in
the woods about an hour
or two ago, and he said if I
hollered he'd cut my livers out
-- and told me to lay down and
stay where I was; and I done
it. Been there ever since; afeard
to come out."
"Well," he says, "you
needn't be afeard no more,
becuz they've
got him. He run off f'm down
South, som'ers."
"It's a good
job they got him."
"Well, I RECKON!
There's two hunderd dollars
reward on him.
It's like picking up money out'n
the road."
"Yes, it is
-- and I could a had it if
I'd been big enough;
I see him FIRST. Who nailed him?"
"It was an
old fellow -- a stranger --
and he sold out his
chance in him for forty dollars,
becuz he's got to go up the river
and can't wait. Think o' that,
now! You bet I'D wait, if it
was seven year."
"That's me, every time," says
I. "But maybe his chance ain't
worth no more than that, if he'll
sell it so cheap. Maybe there's
something ain't straight about
it."
"But it IS,
though -- straight as a string.
I see the handbill
myself. It tells all about him,
to a dot -- paints him like a
picture, and tells the plantation
he's frum, below NewrLEANS. No-sirree-BOB,
they ain't no trouble 'bout THAT
speculation, you bet you. Say,
gimme a chaw tobacker, won't
ye?"
I didn't have none, so he left.
I went to the raft, and set down
in the wigwam to think. But I
couldn't come to nothing. I thought
till I wore my head sore, but
I couldn't see no way out of
the trouble. After all this long
journey, and after all we'd done
for them scoundrels, here it
was all come to nothing, everything
all busted up and ruined, because
they could have the heart to
serve Jim such a trick as that,
and make him a slave again all
his life, and amongst strangers,
too, for forty dirty dollars.
Once I said
to myself it would be a thousand
times better for
Jim to be a slave at home where
his family was, as long as he'd
GOT to be a slave, and so I'd
better write a letter to Tom
Sawyer and tell him to tell Miss
Watson where he was. But I soon
give up that notion for two things:
she'd be mad and disgusted at
his rascality and ungratefulness
for leaving her, and so she'd
sell him straight down the river
again; and if she didn't, everybody
naturally despises an ungrateful
nigger, and they'd make Jim feel
it all the time, and so he'd
feel ornery and disgraced. And
then think of ME! It would get
all around that Huck Finn helped
a nigger to get his freedom;
and if I was ever to see anybody
from that town again I'd be ready
to get down and lick his boots
for shame. That's just the way:
a person does a low-down thing,
and then he don't want to take
no consequences of it. Thinks
as long as he can hide, it ain't
no disgrace. That was my fix
exactly. The more I studied about
this the more my conscience went
to grinding me, and the more
wicked and low-down and ornery
I got to feeling. And at last,
when it hit me all of a sudden
that here was the plain hand
of Providence slapping me in
the face and letting me know
my wickedness was being watched
all the time from up there in
heaven,whilst I was stealing
a poor old woman's nigger that
hadn't ever done me no harm,
and now was showing me there's
One that's always on the lookout,
and ain't agoing to allow no
such miserable doings to go only
just so fur and no further, I
most dropped in my tracks I was
so scared. Well, I tried the
best I could to kinder soften
it up somehow for myself by saying
I was brung up wicked, and so
I warn't so much to blame; but
something inside of me kept saying, "There
was the Sunday-school, you could
a gone to it; and if you'd a
done it they'd a learnt you there
that people that acts as I'd
been acting about that nigger
goes to everlasting fire."
It made me shiver. And I about
made up my mind to pray, and
see if I couldn't try to quit
being the kind of a boy I was
and be better. So I kneeled down.
But the words wouldn't come.
Why wouldn't they? It warn't
no use to try and hide it from
Him. Nor from ME, neither. I
knowed very well why they wouldn't
come. It was because my heart
warn't right; it was because
I warn't square; it was because
I was playing double. I was letting
ON to give up sin, but away inside
of me I was holding on to the
biggest one of all. I was trying
to make my mouth SAY I would
do the right thing and the clean
thing, and go and write to that
nigger's owner and tell where
he was; but deep down in me I
knowed it was a lie, and He knowed
it. You can't pray a lie -- I
found that out.
So I was full of trouble, full
as I could be; and didn't know
what to do. At last I had an
idea; and I says, I'll go and
write the letter -- and then
see if I can pray. Why, it was
astonishing, the way I felt as
light as a feather right straight
off, and my troubles all gone.
So I got a piece of paper and
a pencil, all glad and excited,
and set down and wrote:
Miss Watson, your runaway nigger
Jim is down here two mile below
Pikesville, and Mr. Phelps has
got him and he will give him
up for the reward if you send.
HUCK FINN.
I felt good and all washed
clean of sin for the first time
I had ever felt so in my life,
and I knowed I could pray now.
But I didn't do it straight off,
but laid the paper down and set
there thinking -- thinking how
good it was all this happened
so, and how near I come to being
lost and going to hell. And went
on thinking. And got to thinking
over our trip down the river;
and I see Jim before me all the
time: in the day and in the night-time,
sometimes moonlight, sometimes
storms, and we a-floating along,
talking and singing and laughing.
But somehow I couldn't seem to
strike no places to harden me
against him, but only the other
kind. I'd see him standing my
watch on top of his'n, 'stead
of calling me, so I could go
on sleeping; and see him how
glad he was when I come back
out of the fog; and when I come
to him again in the swamp, up
there where the feud was; and
such-like times; and would always
call me honey, and pet me and
do everything he could think
of for me, and how good he always
was; and at last I struck the
time I saved him by telling the
men we had small-pox aboard,
and he was so grateful, and said
I was the best friend old Jim
ever had in the world, and the
ONLY one he's got now; and then
I happened to look around and
see that paper.
It was a close place. I took
it up, and held it in my hand.
I was a-trembling, because I'd
got to decide, forever, betwixt
two things, and I knowed it.
I studied a minute, sort of holding
my breath, and then says to myself:
"All right, then, I'll GO to
hell" -- and tore it up.
It was awful thoughts and awful
words, but they was said. And
I let them stay said; and never
thought no more about reforming.
I shoved the whole thing out
of my head, and said I would
take up wickedness again, which
was in my line, being brung up
to it, and the other warn't.
And for a starter I would go
to work and steal Jim out of
slavery again; and if I could
think up anything worse, I would
do that, too; because as long
as I was in, and in for good,
I might as well go the whole
hog.
Then I set to thinking over
how to get at it, and turned
over some considerable many ways
in my mind; and at last fixed
up a plan that suited me. So
then I took the bearings of a
woody island that was down the
river a piece, and as soon as
it was fairly dark I crept out
with my raft and went for it,
and hid it there, and then turned
in. I slept the night through,
and got up before it was light,
and had my breakfast, and put
on my store clothes, and tied
up some others and one thing
or another in a bundle, and took
the canoe and cleared for shore.
I landed below where I judged
was Phelps's place, and hid my
bundle in the woods, and then
filled up the canoe with water,
and loaded rocks into her and
sunk her where I could find her
again when I wanted her, about
a quarter of a mile below a little
steam sawmill that was on the
bank.
Then I struck
up the road, and when I passed
the mill I
see a sign on it, "Phelps's Sawmill," and
when I come to the farm-houses,
two or three hundred yards further
along, I kept my eyes peeled,
but didn't see nobody around,
though it was good daylight now.
But I didn't mind, because I
didn't want to see nobody just
yet -- I only wanted to get the
lay of the land. According to
my plan, I was going to turn
up there from the village, not
from below. So I just took a
look, and shoved along, straight
for town. Well, the very first
man I see when I got there was
the duke. He was sticking up
a bill for the Royal Nonesuch
-- three-night performance --
like that other time. They had
the cheek, them frauds! I was
right on him before I could shirk.
He looked astonished, and says:
"Hel-LO! Where'd YOU come from?" Then
he says, kind of glad and eager, "Where's
the raft? -- got her in a good
place?"
I says:
"Why, that's
just what I was going to ask
your grace."
Then he didn't look so joyful,
and says:
"What was your idea for asking
ME?" he says.
"Well," I says, "when
I see the king in that doggery
yesterday
I says to myself, we can't get
him home for hours, till he's
soberer; so I went a-loafing
around town to put in the time
and wait. A man up and offered
me ten cents to help him pull
a skiff over the river and back
to fetch a sheep, and so I went
along; but when we was dragging
him to the boat, and the man
left me a-holt of the rope and
went behind him to shove him
along, he was too strong for
me and jerked loose and run,
and we after him. We didn't have
no dog, and so we had to chase
him all over the country till
we tired him out. We never got
him till dark; then we fetched
him over, and I started down
for the raft. When I got there
and see it was gone, I says to
myself, 'They've got into trouble
and had to leave; and they've
took my nigger, which is the
only nigger I've got in the world,
and now I'm in a strange country,
and ain't got no property no
more, nor nothing, and no way
to make my living;' so I set
down and cried. I slept in the
woods all night. But what DID
become of the raft, then? --
and Jim -- poor Jim!"
"Blamed if
I know -- that is, what's become
of the raft. That
old fool had made a trade and
got forty dollars, and when we
found him in the doggery the
loafers had matched half-dollars
with him and got every cent but
what he'd spent for whisky; and
when I got him home late last
night and found the raft gone,
we said, 'That little rascal
has stole our raft and shook
us, and run off down the river.'"
"I wouldn't
shake my NIGGER, would I? --
the only nigger I
had in the world, and the only
property."
"We never thought
of that. Fact is, I reckon
we'd come to
consider him OUR nigger; yes,
we did consider him so -- goodness
knows we had trouble enough for
him. So when we see the raft
was gone and we flat broke, there
warn't anything for it but to
try the Royal Nonesuch another
shake. And I've pegged along
ever since, dry as a powder-horn.
Where's that ten cents? Give
it here."
I had considerable money, so
I give him ten cents, but begged
him to spend it for something
to eat, and give me some, because
it was all the money I had, and
I hadn't had nothing to eat since
yesterday. He never said nothing.
The next minute he whirls on
me and says:
"Do you reckon
that nigger would blow on us?
We'd skin him
if he done that!"
"How can he
blow? Hain't he run off?"
"No! That old
fool sold him, and never divided
with me, and
the money's gone."
"SOLD him?" I says, and begun
to cry; "why, he was MY nigger,
and that was my money. Where
is he? -- I want my nigger."
"Well, you
can't GET your nigger, that's
all -- so dry up your
blubbering. Looky here -- do
you think YOU'D venture to blow
on us? Blamed if I think I'd
trust you. Why, if you WAS to
blow on us --"
He stopped, but I never see
the duke look so ugly out of
his eyes before. I went on a-whimpering,
and says:
"I don't want
to blow on nobody; and I ain't
got no time to blow,
nohow. I got to turn out and
find my nigger."
He looked kinder bothered,
and stood there with his bills
fluttering on his arm, thinking,
and wrinkling up his forehead.
At last he says:
"I'll tell
you something. We got to be
here three days. If
you'll promise you won't blow,
and won't let the nigger blow,
I'll tell you where to find him."
So I promised, and he says:
"A farmer by the name of Silas
Ph----" and then he stopped.
You see, he started to tell me
the truth; but when he stopped
that way, and begun to study
and think again, I reckoned he
was changing his mind. And so
he was. He wouldn't trust me;
he wanted to make sure of having
me out of the way the whole three
days. So pretty soon he says:
"The man that
bought him is named Abram Foster
-- Abram G.
Foster -- and he lives forty
mile back here in the country,
on the road to Lafayette."
"All right," I says, "I
can walk it in three days.
And I'll
start this very afternoon."
"No you wont,
you'll start NOW; and don't
you lose any time
about it, neither, nor do any
gabbling by the way. Just keep
a tight tongue in your head and
move right along, and then you
won't get into trouble with US,
d'ye hear?"
That was the order I wanted,
and that was the one I played
for. I wanted to be left free
to work my plans.
"So clear out," he says; "and
you can tell Mr. Foster whatever
you want to. Maybe you can get
him to believe that Jim IS your
nigger -- some idiots don't require
documents -- leastways I've heard
there's such down South here.
And when you tell him the handbill
and the reward's bogus, maybe
he'll believe you when you explain
to him what the idea was for
getting 'em out. Go 'long now,
and tell him anything you want
to; but mind you don't work your
jaw any BETWEEN here and there."
So I left, and struck for the
back country. I didn't look around,
but I kinder felt like he was
watching me. But I knowed I could
tire him out at that. I went
straight out in the country as
much as a mile before I stopped;
then I doubled back through the
woods towards Phelps'. I reckoned
I better start in on my plan
straight off without fooling
around, because I wanted to stop
Jim's mouth till these fellows
could get away. I didn't want
no trouble with their kind. I'd
seen all I wanted to of them,
and wanted to get entirely shut
of them.
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