824 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 
“Why, you stupid fellow!—did you never see a wheel, 
Tom ?” 
‘Yes, Massa, but den dem aint’ cart-weels !’ 
“Fellow!” said I, provoked at his tenacious stupidity, 
“those are parts of small machines, and can hurt neither you 
nor me. Come in, this moment, without another word, and 
assist your master to hold the woman !” 
I seized him by the collar and pushed him in, saying, as I 
looked significantly at my rifle— 
“Do as you are ordered, or remember this !” 
The Planter, who was nearly exhausted by the continued 
violence of the convulsions, when he saw the cowering negro 
anter, saluted him with a wrathful oath, which we will be 
excused from repeating, and in a voice of thunder, ordered him 
to seize the woman’s arms, enforcing his command with a 
furious kick, followed by gentle insinuation that he would 
dash his brains out, if he dared to let her up. Tom took 
hold evidently with fear and trembling, but still with all his 
might. 
““What are we to do with this she-dragon?” gasped the 
poor Planter, wiping the sweat from his brow. “It will take 
half-a-dozen men to hold her at this rate—we shall have to 
tie her !” 
At this moment an extraordinary change came over the 
face of the raving woman. The face of the negro—as he 
stooped above her, holding her arms and body down—was, of 
course, immediately over hers. The moment her eyes rested 
upon it she ceased to struggle, and lay—gazing fixedly up at 
it without moving lip or muscle. We both noticed it at the 
same moment, and almost held our breath to watch the result. 
After some little while, she began to speak in nearly her 
ordinary tone, except that it was more measured. It had 
before been so shriekingly incoherent, that we could only dis- 
tinguish here and there a phrase. 
“Yes! yes! Poor child of persecution, you are here! 
