Pictures and Stories from Uncle Tom's Cabin. Unknown

and Sam after them, laughing till their sides ached as soon as they got out of sight. The trader all the while stood cursing and swearing, like a wicked man as he was.

      When the horses were caught, they were so tired with their race, that he was fain to let them stay and rest till dinner-time. But when dinner-time came, Chloe the cook, of whom you will hear more in the course of the story, spilled one dish, kept another long in baking; and so the trader did not get his dinner till it was late in the afternoon.

      The horses were brought out at last, and he set off with Sam and Andy in pursuit of poor Harry and his mother. They had gone a great way by this time, and Eliza's feet were sore with walking all the night and day, and Harry was ready to lie down and sleep on the snow. As the sun was setting, they came in sight of the great river Ohio. There was no bridge over it. People crossed in boats in the summer time, and in winter on the thick ice, with which it was always covered. Now it was the month of February. The ice had broken, because spring was near. The river was swollen over all its banks, and no boatman would venture on it. There was a little inn hard by, and there poor Eliza hoped to get a little rest for herself and Harry, who was now fast asleep in her arms. She had just sat down by the fire, when, who should ride into the yard but the trader and his guides. The swift horses had brought them much quicker than she and Harry could walk, but the weary mother would not lose her child. She darted out with him that moment, and the verses will tell you by what means she escaped.

      ELIZA CROSSING THE RIVER

      From her resting-place by the trader chased,

      Through the winter evening cold,

      Eliza came with her boy at last,

      Where a broad deep river rolled.

      Great blocks of the floating ice were there,

      And the water's roar was wild,

      But the cruel trader's step was near,

      Who would take her only child.

      Poor Harry clung around her neck,

      But a word he could not say,

      For his very heart was faint with fear,

      And with flying all that day.

      Her arms about the boy grew tight,

      With a loving clasp, and brave;

      "Hold fast! Hold fast, now, Harry dear,

      And it may be God will save."

      From the river's bank to the floating ice

      She took a sudden bound,

      And the great block swayed beneath her feet

      With a dull and heavy sound.

      So over the roaring rushing flood,

      From block to block she sprang,

      And ever her cry for God's good help

      Above the waters rang.

      And God did hear that mother's cry,

      For never an ice-block sank;

      While the cruel trader and his men

      Stood wondering on the bank.

      A good man saw on the farther side,

      And gave her his helping hand;

      So poor Eliza, with her boy,

      Stood safe upon the land.

      A blessing on that good man's arm,

      On his house, and field, and store;

      May he never want a friendly hand

      To help him to the shore!

      A blessing on all that make such haste,

      Whatever their hands can do!

      For they that succour the sore distressed,

      Our Lord will help them too.

      When the two negroes saw Eliza's escape, they began to laugh and cheer; on which the trader chased them with his horsewhip, cursing and swearing as usual. But he could not get over the river, and went in very bad temper to spend that night at the little inn, determined to get a boat, if possible, and catch Harry in the morning. The man who had helped Eliza up the river's bank, showed her a pretty white house at some distance, where a kind gentleman and his wife lived. The dark night had fallen, the tea-cups were on the table, and the fires were bright in kitchen and parlour, when the poor mother, all wet and weary, her feet cut by the sharp ice (for she had lost her shoes in the river), walked in, with Harry still in her arms. Before she could ask for shelter, she dropped down fainting on the floor. The good people of the house thought she was dead, and raised a terrible alarm. Mr. and Mrs. Bird ran into the kitchen to see what had happened. They were good, kind people, and great in that place, for Mr. Bird was a member of the American Parliament. He kept slaves himself, and tried to think it was no sin. He had even been trying that very night, in conversation with his wife, to defend a law lately passed, which forbade any one to give shelter to poor runaway slaves. But Mrs. Bird would listen to no defence of such a law, and said, "It is a shameful, wicked, and abominable law, and I'll break it for one the first time I have a chance, and I hope I shall have a chance too. I know nothing about politics, but I can read my Bible, and there I see that I must feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and comfort the desolate; and that Bible I mean to follow. No, no, John, said she, you may talk all night, but you would not do what you say. Would you now turn away a poor, shivering, hungry creature from your door because he was a runaway? Would you, now?"