so we knew that we were pretty safe.
Tall John hadn't shown up yet but I wasn't worried about him. I had the feeling that if he were harmed I would have felt it in the light in my chest.
'What you doin' wit' her here, Forty-seven?' Champ asked me when he caught sight of Eloise.
'Mr. Stewart was tryin' t'kill her and Nola,' I said. 'I took 'em away from him.'
'Take me home,' Eloise cried.
'No, Miss Eloise,' Nola said. 'That Mr. Stewart's still out there. An' he must be untied by now.'
'That's yo home, girl,' I added, pointing at the smoke rising with the sun. 'It ain't safe for you there yet.'
Eloise looked at the thick black plume and took a deep breath. 'My father will stop that traitor,' she announced. 'And he will give all you slaves a chicken dinner and set you free for bein' faithful and savin' my life.'
At one time that would have been my only dream, to be given freedom by my master. But
'Yo' daddy's dead, girl,' I said.
'No,' Eloise replied sounding almost reasonable. 'Mr. Stewart hit him but my daddy only fell down senseless.'
'No ma'am,' I said. 'He fell down all right but his neck broke when he went down. I saw him.'
'No!' Eloise protested.
She looked around at Nola and the slave girl wrapped her beloved mistress and half-sister in her arms.
Champ pulled the buggy behind the hanging tree and I climbed in the back to see how Flore was doing.
Her skin had gone dull and her eyes were open but it didn't seem like she saw anything. I called her name but she didn't answer. When I stroked her cheek I felt that she was burning hot.
'Forty-seven,' Tall John from beyond Africa said.
When I turned around I saw that my friend had retrieved
his yellow sack. As John approached us from the deep wood Champ faltered and then fell to the ground. He clutched at his foot, the foot he used to kick open the burning door.
Quick as anything John brought out a tube of healing wax and slathered it on Champ's bloody burns. He then climbed into the wagon and began to examine Flore.
The sun was coming up and there were the sounds of dogs braying all around.
'Let's get these people into the woods,' John said.
He took a tarp from the back of the buggy and laid it on the ground. Then he and I together pulled Flore from the carriage and lay her on the thick blanket. Then we pulled with all our might, dragging Flore into the forest.
'Come on, girl, and help us,' John said to Nola.
For a moment she gave her mistress a worried look but then she ran to our side and helped haul the unconscious slave behind the trees that stood witness for so many years to the hangings of so many slaves and criminals.
'Is she gonna live?' I asked John when we were hidden.
'I think she might if you didn't bring every white man in the county down on our heads.'
'Don't you worry about that, Numbah Twelve,' I said proudly. 'You just leave that to me.'
With that I ran out to the buggy, grabbed the reins, and yelled, 'He-ah!' The mare threw back her head and ran out into the road.
Champ yelled but he couldn't stop me because of his burned foot. John called for me to stop but I ignored his command.
I didn't use the buggy whip on the horse. Somehow she and I both knew that she was supposed to run. The buggy raced down the road, bumping over ruts and stones. We were headed for the main road that crossed the path to the Corinthian Plantation.
We, the gray mare and I, had made it about a mile when we heard a yell.
'Hey, you, nigger!'
I turned my head to see a group of about five white men on foot surrounded by half a dozen hounds. Behind them came two white men on horseback.
'Run, horse!' I yelled, and the beast understood. She whinnied and then kicked her feet as if it were the devil himself on our trail.
The horsemen came after us. And no matter how fast my horse could run she was still hindered by the weight of the buggy. We were racing down a path between two hay fields. The horsemen were bearing down on us and there was no avoiding them. I could hear their grunts and curses urging their horses to go even faster.
Up ahead there was a wood of knotty pine.
One horseman had made it to the back of my carriage. He leaped from his horse onto the buckboard.
'I'm'onna cut your throat, nigger,' he yelled.
I turned my head to see him. He was about to jump on me but we hit a stone and he was knocked off balance.
