San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1893-06-24


as dangerous as quicksand. We crossed
the breach. My horse felt his hoofs be-
meath him, and as he tried to stagger to
his feet | seized the tall canes that
sheathed the bank. The horse sank
back. There was a distressed whinny,
and the unfortunate animal was swept
from between my legs and out into the
current.
Safe among the stout canes l soon
scrambled to the top of the bank. Wet,
fatigued and hungry l looked around in
vain for the foot bank leading across the
rice field to the mainland. 1t had worn
away. A hundred feet ahead there was
another break in the river bank. was
on an isl4hd. Unless some boat passed
on its way down stream l must spend
what was left of the day and the night
there, with no other shelter than the rude
log cabin that stood in the center.
Il approached the open door of the
hut feeble voice from within called:
"Is dat you, Marse Steny?' and then
halting steps sounded on the rude plank
floor. master, is you come fer ole
Prince at las?
In the doorway stood the bent and de-
crepit form of an aged negro. His hair
was white as snow, and his thin hands
were extended before him in supplica-
ton. His eyes, now dim, seemed daz-
zled by the light, but tears of joy flowed
down the burrows of his cheeks as he
eagerly tottered forward.
''I'ze watched fer you, Marse Steny,"
he said in broken accents. AS he took
my hand in his feeble fingers he bent to
kiss it. l gently told him that | was
not his master. For a moment he seemed
stunned; then raising his eyes and peer
ing closely into mine he dropped my
hand, and turning away hobbled back to
his hut. When / entered a few minutes
later he WAS seated by the vacant fire.
place mumbling to himself.
So this was Prince, the strange being
whom the negroes feared and every one
wondered at. Looking at him now /
could readily believe that he was quite
a hundred years old.
w ullC 1 llllOC " 10 ms oGopANls
to himself glanced about the single
room of the cabin. A great pile of lotus
seeds, gathered from the canals where
the flowers bloomed in abundance, was
stacked in one corner. RavenOus with
hunger | ate a few. They were sweet
and pleasant to the taste, but soon caused
adrowsy sensation. sat down opposite
Prince, and as night drew on and the
air grew chill went out and collected
enough brush to start fire. The river
was still turbulent. Great blocks of
earth had been washed from either end
of our little island, which was rapidly
growing smaller.
Under the cheerful rays of the fire
Prince seemed to brighten up.
"It's freshetin," | heard him mutter
two or three times.
Yes, it is fresheting," l said. The
words seemed to rouse Princes dormant
powers, for he half rose from his seat.
Den Marse Steny'll come" ex-
claimed the aged darby as he raised his
trembling arms in prayer. HE allus
use ter come ober here to watch de
floods" said Prince, looking me straight
in the eyes. Every trace of intirmity
seemed to vanish. His mind was clear
again, but it was busy with events Of
half century ago. He was slave once
more, awaiting word from his master.
"Duz you know Marse Steny?" asked
Prince. "De one wot owns dis place an
all de niggers?"
NO" / answered gently; 81 am a
stranger"
cain you nebber hear tell bout how
| is marry de young marse ter Missile
Grace, an how de ole marse is nebber
forgib me? But Marse Steny is promise
to come back for me, an he'll do it"
And Prince put out his wrinkled hands
to the blaze and gazed into the fire.
Tell me about it," | asked.
well, it was dis way" began Prince.
81 wuz ole Niger wen de marse-dat
wuz my secon marse-is git kill in de fite
wild de Mexicans. Marse Steny been a
baby bout fibe yeah ole. Der ole missis
is glib me ter him, cos he granpa, wot is
kill, alwa's say he kin trus' me. Marse
Steny pa is trus' nae too. An ebryting
go long hansum like till de votin cum
bout Mister Lincum. Dat is bring trub.
BILE, cos Marse Elliott is jess cum wild he
family frum de norf, an he say he goiu
ter vote for Marse Lincum. Dat is meek
my marse mad, and he say Marse Steny
mus stop visitin ober cross de ribber at
Marie Elliott's. Marse Steny been a
crowd up man den, and he say he goin
ter visit who he please. Dat wuz cos
Missile Grace Tub him, an he Tub her
Well, long bout harves' time Marse
Steny is come to me an say: Prince,
sezee, you is clergyman, ain you?
Yes sezi. Il is. Wot kin do for Yon