We caught fifteen fine rats and hid the trap under Aunt Sally’s bed. But one of the little boys found it and opened the door to see if the rats would come out. They did. When we got back, Aunt Sally was standing on top of the bed, screaming. She beat us both with a stick, and it took us two hours to catch fifteen more.
Then we collected spiders and a bag of snakes. But the snakes got out of the bag, and for a long time they kept dropping from the ceiling, usually into your plate or down your neck. They were harmless, but Aunt Sally hated snakes, and every time one fell on her, she ran away screaming. We got a beating every time, but I didn’t mind the beatings. I minded the work of catching more snakes.
When the animals all came out for Jim’s music, his hut was the liveliest place you ever saw. Jim said there was no room for him in his bed, and he never got any sleep, because when the snakes slept, the rats were awake. He said if he ever got out, he would never be a prisoner again, not even for money.
After three weeks everything was ready. Every time a rat bit Jim, he wrote a little in his diary while the blood was fresh. The pens were made, the words were carved on the grindstone, and the bed leg was sawed in two.
Uncle Silas had no answer from Jim’s owner, so he said he would put a notice about Jim in the newspapers in St. Louis and New Orleans. When he said St. Louis, I went cold all over. People from home could read it. We had no time to lose.
“Now for the letters with no name,” Tom said. “Someone always warns the family before an escape.”
“But why do we want to warn anybody?”
“Because they don’t notice anything. If we don’t warn them, nobody will try to stop us, and after all our hard work the escape will be completely boring.”
“Well, that’s the way I’d like it, Tom.”
“Oh, nonsense!” he said, and looked disgusted.
So I put on a young slave girl’s dress, because a servant girl always carries the warning, and pushed Tom’s letter under the front door:
Beware. Trouble is coming. Keep a sharp lookout.
UNKNOWN FRIEND
The next night we put a picture of a skull on the front door, which Tom had drawn in blood, and the night after that a coffin on the back door. I never saw a family so scared. If a door banged, Aunt Sally jumped and said “Ouch!” Tom said it was working very well.
Now a slave watched each door at night. At dawn Tom climbed down the lightning rod, found the man at the back door asleep and stuck the last letter in his collar:
Don’t give me away. I want to be your friend. A dangerous gang from the Indian Territory is going to steal your runaway slave tonight. I am one of the gang, but I want to live an honest life again. They will come along the fence from the north at midnight and go into the hut to get him. I will say “baa” like a sheep as soon as they are inside. Then, while they are taking off his chains, you can come and lock them in. I don’t want any reward.
UNKNOWN FRIEND