SLAVE LIFE IN GEORGIA. 25
the leaves from the water-troughs. This spring¬
head was up the side of a hill, and troughs were
laid down from it to the still-house, on tall stakes,
so as to throw the water up to the top of the still-
house. Stevens was standing at the bottom of the
hill and I went down to him. He began swearing
at me directly, and asked me why I did not run
when he sent me to fetch the key.
" I did run, Sir," I said.
" You ran, did you, Sir?" said he again, with
" Yes, Sir," I answered.
" Oh, you ran, did you ?" And as he said this
he took out his knife and cut a hickory rod from
the hedge, with which he beat me until it was
" Now, Sir, you tell me you ran, eh ?" he
" Yes, Sir," I answered; for I would not tell
him to the contrary, though the blood was trickling
down my back.
"Oh, you ran, did you?" he said again, and
cut another rod, with which he beat me as before.
I do not know how it was that the pain did not
make me cry. It did not, however, but seemea
to harden me; or perhaps my feelings were