But Bob had never been accustomed to a cruel
master: such Cordes Kemp was to the fullest extent of the term. A
few months passed, and Bob became heartily sick of his new master,
who gave him little to eat, and had nearly ended his life with
labour and the lash. Finding he could no longer stand such
treatment, he fled to the swamp; and for two years did he make his
home among the morasses and hillocks, now making his bed by the
trunk of a fallen tree, then seeking shelter in a temporary camp
built with the axe he carried away with him. At times he was forced
to make food of roots, nuts, and such wild fruit as the woods
afforded; and as the ravens found food, so the outcast man did not
suffer while an all-wise Providence watched over him. And then he
found a kind friend in old Jerushe-Aunt Jerushe, as she was commonly
called, who lived on a plantation a few miles from his hiding-place,
and met him at night, and shared her coarse meal with him. Jerushe's
heart was full of kindness; she would have given him more, but for
the want thereof. Full two years did even-handed democracy drive the
old man homeless to seek a shelter among the poisonous reptiles of
the morass. Mr. Cordes Kemp must regain his property, and to that
generous end he puts forth the following extremely southern
proclamation, which may be found in all respectable morning
journals, on posters hung at the "Rough and Ready," at "Your House,"
and at "Our House":--
"SEVENTY-FIVE (75) DOLLARS REWARD is offered for the delivery of my
old negro carpenter man named BOB, in gaol in Charleston, within a
month from this date.
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