Obtaining possession of the brig was suggested by one ofus. We discussed the possibility of our being able， in suchan event， to make our way to the harbor of New-York.
I knew little of the compass； but the idea of risking theexperiment was eagerly entertained. The chances， for andagainst us， in an encounter with the crew， was canvassed.
Who could be relied upon， and who could not， the propertime and manner of the attack， were all talked over andover again. From the moment the plot suggested itselfI began to hope. I revolved it constantly in my mind. Asdifficulty after difficulty arose， some ready conceit wasat hand， demonstrating how it could be overcome. Whileothers slept， Arthur and I were maturing our plans. Atlength， with much caution， Robert was gradually madeacquainted with our intentions. He approved of themat once， and entered into the conspiracy with a zealousspirit. There was not another slave we dared to trust.
Brought up in fear and ignorance as they are， it canscarcely be conceived how servilely they will cringe beforea white man’s look. It was not safe to deposit so bold asecret with any of them， and finally we three resolved totake upon ourselves alone the fearful responsibility of theattempt.
At night， as has been said， we were driven into thehold， and the hatch barred down. How to reach the deckwas the first difficulty that presented itself. On the bowof the brig， however I had observed the small boat lyingbottom upwards. It occurred to me that by secretingourselves underneath it， we would not be missed from thecrowd， as they were hurried down into the hold at night.
I was selected to make the experiment， in order to satisfyourselves of its feasibility. The next evening， accordingly，after supper， watching my opportunity， I hastilyconcealed myself beneath it. Lying close upon the deck，I could see what was going on around me， while whollyunperceived myself. In the morning， as they came up， Islipped from my hiding place without being observed.
The result was entirely satisfactory.
The captain and mate slept in the cabin of the former.
From Robert， who had frequent occasion， in his capacityof waiter， to make observations in that quarter， weascertained the exact position of their respective berths.
He further informed us that there were always two pistolsand a cutlass lying on the table. The crew’s cook slept inthe cook galley on deck， a sort of vehicle on wheels， thatcould be moved about as convenience required， while thesailors， numbering only six， either slept in the forecastle，or in hammocks swung among the rigging.
Finally our arrangements were all completed. Arthurand I were to steal silently to the captain’s cabin， seize thepistols and cutlass， and as quickly as possible despatch him and the mate. Robert， with a club， was to stand bythe door leading from the deck down into the cabin，and， in case of necessity， beat back the sailors， until wecould hurry to his assistance. We were to proceed thenas circumstances might require. Should the attack be sosudden and successful as to prevent resistance， the hatchwas to remain barred down； otherwise the slaves were tobe called up， and in the crowd， and hurry， and confusionof the time， we resolved to regain our liberty or lose ourlives. I was then to assume the unaccustomed place ofpilot， and， steering northward， we trusted that somelucky wind might bear us to the soil of freedom.
The mate’s name was Biddee， the captain’s I cannotnow recall， though I rarely ever forget a name once heard.
The captain was a small， genteel man， erect and prompt，with a proud bearing， and looked the personificationof courage. If he is still living， and these pages shouldchance to meet his eye， he will learn a fact connected withthe voyage of the brig， from Richmond to New-Orleans，in 1841， not entered on his log-book.
We were all prepared， and impatiently waiting anopportunity of putting our designs into execution， whenthey were frustrated by a sad and unforeseen event.
Robert was taken ill. It was soon announced that he hadthe small-pox. He continued to grow worse， and fourdays previous to our arrival in New-Orleans he died. Oneof the sailors sewed him in his blanket， with a large stonefrom the ballast at his feet， and then laying him on a hatchway， and elevating it with tackles above the railing，the inanimate body of poor Robert was consigned to thewhite waters of the gulf.
We were all panic-stricken by the appearance of thesmall-pox. The captain ordered lime to be scatteredthrough the hold， and other prudent precautions to betaken. The death of Robert， however， and the presenceof the malady， oppressed me sadly， and I gazed out overthe great waste of waters with a spirit that was indeeddisconsolate.
An evening or two after Robert’s burial， I was leaningon the hatchway near the forecastle， full of despondingthoughts， when a sailor in a kind voice asked me why Iwas so down-hearted. The tone and manner of the manassured me， and I answered， because I was a freeman，and had been kidnapped. He remarked that it wasenough to make any one down-hearted， and continuedto interrogate me until he learned the particulars ofmy whole history. He was evidently much interested inmy behalf， and， in the blunt speech of a sailor， sworehe would aid me all he could， if it “split his timbers.” Irequested him to furnish me pen， ink and paper， in orderthat I might write to some of my friends. He promised toobtain them—but how I could use them undiscovered wasa difficulty. If I could only get into the forecastle whilehis watch was off， and the other sailors asleep， the thingcould be accomplished. The small boat instantly occurredto me. He thought we were not far from the Balize， at the056
mouth of the Mississippi， and it was necessary that theletter be written soon， or the opportunity would be lost.
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