Audubon-never unnecessarily suspicious—that he assented, with a slight emphasis, however, on the phrase that he would follow him.

The negro, observing it, in order to put his companion at ease, then threw away the flint and priming of his gun. His knife he presented to Audubon, who, desirous of showing equal generosity, refused it. On they went through the woods together, Audubon not failing to observe that the course they pursued was directly contrary to his homeward road. After travelling some distance, the negro leading the way, with the accuracy of a redskin, over tangled swamps, and stagnant streams, Audubon was startled by a loud shriek from his companion. Involuntarily he again levelled his gun. “No harm, master," said the negro in answer, “I only give notice to my wife and children of my approach.” The signal was answered in gentler tones from female lips, when an expression of delight, which disclosed his ivory teeth, lightened across the negro's countenance. “Master,” he said, with a winning simplicity, "my wife, though black, is as beautiful to me as the President's wife is to him. She is my queen, and our young ones are our princes. But you shall see them, for here they all are, thank God.” They soon reached the very heart of a cane brake, and here the poor fugitives had formed their camp,

the few possessions of which were neatly and carefully disposed. The kindly demeanour of the negro, together with the amiable expression of his affection for his family, had now completely won Audubon's confidence. Convinced of his host's good intentions, and the sincerity of his hospitality, he did not hesitate to remain beneath his roof. While he received every attention which could ensure his comfort, the children caressed his dog, and after partaking heartily of a savoury repast, he eagerly listened to the painful recital of the negro's trials.

The master to whom he and his family had at first belonged, had been obliged, in consequence of some heavy losses he had sustained, to offer them for sale. The negro was purchased by a planter--his wife became the possession of another, a hundred miles distant, and the children were hurried to different places. The loving heart of the slave was overwhelmed with grief at the calamity of this great loss. For a time entirely prostrated by the misfortune, he sorrowed in the deepest dejection, without energy or hope. At length the powers of resistance awakened. He resolved to act boldly and without delay. One stormy night, when the fury of the hurricane favoured him, by causing every one to seek the shelter of his dwelling, he effected his escape, his intimate knowledge of the