Through a dark and moonless night the fugitive ran, and his tormentors followed. For all of his existence the life of Cassius had not been his own. Born to a kindly old master, he had been allowed to remain with his father and mother for a time. They loved him dearly, and they cherished the love binding their family together. It was one of the few things in this world that was theirs; one of the few things they could hold on to that would lift their eyes from their burdens and fix them upon the Heavens that watched over them. But it was not to be so.
Master Sartoris did not have a cruel bone in his body. Before the sun set in the evening he would give his slaves time to be with their families, and he never sold them apart despite the financial hardship this caused him. He was very careful to instruct them in matters of the Spirit and the scriptures every Sunday. But he was old, and he expired when Cassius was still very young. Master Sartoris had not been so careful in the instruction of his own son, who had grown into a man of cruelty. Torn from his family with much wailing and many tears, Cassius was sold down the river.
Master Jones was a man of cruelty and indifference. He expected a man’s work from Cassius, although he had not yet had a chance to come of age. He withheld from Cassius his daily bread on those days his lust for gold had not been satisfied. Master Jones instructed his overseers to whip every last bales worth of work out of his slaves. And if any were worked to death, then it was their fault for their laziness. Cassius found it hard to hold on to the things of life, and began to pray that he would not be long for this world.
30 CHAPTER 10. THE FUGITIVE
But many of the other slaves had been instructed in scripture as well, and they sought to lift up young Cassius. They spoke of Moses, and how the Spirit had given him power to defy the tyrant Pharaoh and lead his people into the Promised Land of freedom. They said it had been written that the day was coming when the last shall be first and the first shall be last. They said that things were not like this in all of the land; that to the north all men were free no matter what the color of their skin. They spoke of freedom the same way that the preachers who had visited the Sartoris plantation spoke of salvation, and for Cassius the two became one and the same. He nourished that hope and learned to be as vigilant as watchmen who wait for dawn.
And so the day came when Cassius saw his opportunity. Master Jones picked up his plantation lock, stock and barrel and moved it further north, into the land called Kansas. Cassius knew that the Promised Land must be near, as he could feel it in his bones. Master Jones and his overseers grew distracted; making sure that all was in readiness for their scheme of politics and power. The night came when there was no moon and clouds covered up the stars. It was so dark Cassius could barely see the hand in front of his face. And so he ran.
Cassius ran like a man possessed. He left everything, left his pregnant wife behind, and he ran. So consumed he was by the fever dream of freedom that his vision had tunneled into just that one thing. He knew that his tormentors followed, he could hear their dogs barking behind him. Through a dark and moonless night the fugitive ran, and many beasts followed behind him with slavering jaws seeking to devour him.