about events happening under the old tree that while I was not par¬ 
ticularly afraid of haunts, still, being a boy of 12, I must admit I 
would give several furtive glances over my shoulder each night as I 
passed the spot and I think my heart would give several extra beats. 
One night as I was passing this tree, cautiously as usual, I thought 
1 could see something moving under it. My heart started beating a 
little faster and all the weird stories I had heard flashed through my 
mind, however, I collected all my courage together, prepared myself 
for anything and bravely advanced on the light object that was still 
moving back and forth under the old oak tree. As I grew nearer the 
object loomed larger, more shapeless, still, though my heart was beat¬ 
ing faster and faster, my curiosity drew me on a little closer, then as 
T was within a few feet of the large white object it suddenly turned, 
facing me—our old white cow. You can imagine my relief, but this 
is a fair sample of the haunts that used to scare our negroes. If my 
nigger Jim or some other negro had been in my place that night he 
would have ran for the house as fast as he could and another weird 
story would have originated about the old oak tree. 
This carrying supper to the distillery at night broke into my hunt¬ 
ing business and then, too, I missed my nigger Jim so much. It was 
no easy matter to find another bov with the hunting instinct of Jim, 
one that could put up a good coon and oppossum hunt, so T would 
often go alone and would sometimes hunt all night, at least most of 
the night, and during the rest of it I would lie down beside a huge 
campfire, get the dogs to lay close to me to keep me warm, and in this 
way snatch a few winks of sleep—but these solitary hunts were not as 
enjoyable as the hunts with my nigger. I missed him so much that I 
asked my father if I could go on a little visit to my Grandmother 
Townsend’s, who lived near Chaple Hill where we had formerly lived. 
When I got his consent to this I asked if I couldn’t bring Jim back 
with me; this he also consented to, providing the nigger was not 
bound out. 
The old niggers in those days, after the Civil War. bound their 
children out until they should become 21 years old. So off I went 
to see my grandmother, with my heart set on getting Jim, regardless 
of circumstances. It was a very hard day’s ride, horse-back, to reach 
my grandmother’s home in one day; however, I made it though I was 
very tired when I reached her home. During supper 1 cautiously 
inquired about Jim, to learn as I had feared, that he was bound out 
to Mr. Ezell, a man living about three miles from my grandmother’s. 
I rested up the following day, being pretty tired from my long 
ride, played with my cousins a little bit and took life easy, but all 
the time 1 was thinking and planning of how to get my nigger Jim. 
The second clay I was at my grandmother’s I went over to Mr. 
Ezell’s to see my nigger and Ezell allowed him to stop work to play 
with me. When I had a good opportunity I told Jim I had come after 
him and we could run away, if we could get a good start of Ezell he 
could never catch us. Mv nigger instantly agreed to do this, so we 
set a night and place to meet to make our getaway. We carried our 
— 5 — 
