A slave caught off his master’s plantation withouta pass， may be seized and whipped by any white manwhom he meets. The one I now received was dated， andread as follows：“Platt has permission to go to Ford’s plantation， onBayou Boeuf， and return by Tuesday morning.
JOHN M. TIBEATS.”
This is the usual form. On the way， a great manydemanded it， read it， and passed on. Those having theair and appearance of gentlemen， whose dress indicatedthe possession of wealth， frequently took no notice ofme whatever； but a shabby fellow， an unmistakableloafer， never failed to hail me， and to scrutinize andexamine me in the most thorough manner. Catchingrunaways is sometimes a money-making business. If，after advertising， no owner appears， they may be soldto the highest bidder； and certain fees are allowed thefinder for his services， at all events， even if reclaimed. “Amean white，” therefore， —a name applied to the speciesloafer—considers it a god-send to meet an unknownnegro without a pass.
There are no inns along the highways in that portionof the State where I sojourned. I was wholly destitute ofmoney， neither did I carry any provisions， on my journeyfrom the Big Cane to Bayou Boeuf； nevertheless， with hispass in his hand， a slave need never suffer from hunger orfrom thirst. It is only necessary to present it to the masteror overseer of a plantation， and state his wants， when hewill be sent round to the kitchen and provided with foodor shelter， as the case may require. The traveler stops atany house and calls for a meal with as much freedom asif it was a public tavern. It is the general custom of thecountry. Whatever their faults may be， it is certain theinhabitants along Red River， and around the bayous inthe interior of Louisiana are not wanting in hospitality.
I arrived at Ford’s plantation towards the close ofthe afternoon， passing the evening in Eliza’s cabin， withLawson， Rachel， and others of my acquaintance. Whenwe left Washington Eliza’s form was round and plump.
She stood erect， and in her silks and jewels， presenteda picture of graceful strength and elegance. Now shewas but a thin shadow of her former self. Her face hadbecome ghastly haggard， and the once straight andactive form was bowed down， as if bearing the weight ofa hundred years. Crouching on her cabin floor， and cladin the coarse garments of a slave， old Elisha Berry wouldnot have recognized the mother of his child. I never sawher afterwards. Having become useless in the cottonfield，she was bartered for a trifle， to some man residing in the vicinity of Peter Compton’s. Grief had gnawedremorselessly at her heart， until her strength was gone；and for that， her last master， it is said， lashed and abusedher most unmercifully. But he could not whip backthe departed vigor of her youth， nor straighten up thatbended body to its full height， such as it was when herchildren were around her， and the light of freedom wasshining on her path.
I learned the particulars relative to her departurefrom this world， from some of Compton’s slaves， whohad come over Red River to the bayou， to assist youngMadam Tanner during the “busy season.” She became atlength， they said， utterly helpless， for several weeks lyingon the ground floor in a dilapidated cabin， dependentupon the mercy of her fellowthralls for an occasionaldrop of water， and a morsel of food. Her master did not“knock her on the head，” as is sometimes done to put asuffering animal out of misery， but left her unprovidedfor， and unprotected， to linger through a life of painand wretchedness to its natural close. When the handsreturned from the field one night they found her dead！
During the day， the Angel of the Lord， who movethinvisibly over all the earth， gathering in his harvest ofdeparting souls， had silently entered the cabin of thedying woman， and taken her from thence. She was free atlast！
Next day， rolling up my blanket， I started on my returnto the Big Cane. After traveling five miles， at a placecalled Huff Power， the ever-present Tibeats met me inthe road. He inquired why I was going back so soon， andwhen informed I was anxious to return by the time Iwas directed， he said I need go no farther than the nextplantation， as he had that day sold me to Edwin Epps.
We walked down into the yard， where we met the lattergentleman， who examined me， and asked me the usualquestions propounded by purchasers. Having been dulydelivered over， I was ordered to the quarters， and at thesame time directed to make a hoe and axe handle formyself.
I was now no longer the property of Tibeats—his dog，his brute， dreading his wrath and cruelty day and night；and whoever or whatever my new master might proveto be， I could not， certainly， regret the change. So it wasgood news when the sale was announced， and with a sighof relief I sat down for the first time in my new abode.
Tibeats soon after disappeared from that section ofthe country. Once afterwards， and only once， I caughta glimpse of him. It was many miles from Bayou Boeuf.
