The Press., 1894-02-15
TWO RUNAWAYS
Rv HARRY sTILLwELL EDWARDS.

1893, by the Century Company. All
 rights reserved.l
 The worthy pair had been foraging for dinner and were returning heavily laden. The major bore sack of corn. and Isam led the way with three water melons. Unless the reader has attempt ed to carry three watermelons, he Will never know the labor that Isam had inn posed upon himself. The two had just reached the edge of the canebrake, be- yond which lay the camp, and were en- tering the narrow path when magnl- ficent buck came sweeping through and collided with Isam with such force and audiences as to crush and spatter his watermelons into a pitiful ruin and throw the negro violently to the ground. Instantly the frightened man seized the threatening antlers and held on, yelling lustily for help. The deer made several intellectual efforts to free himself, during which he dragged the negro right and left without difficulty, but finding escape impossible turned fiercely upon his unwilling captor and tried to drive the terrible horns through his writhirg body.
 70 LOT, o Lori" screamed lsam. 70 LOT, Mass Craffud, cum holp me u'n dis buck loos'."
 The laugh died away from Major Worthington' lips. None knew better than he the danger into which Isam had plunged. Not stick, brush, stone or weapon of any description was at hand
 L. fo Hoc V opening that. he rushed upon the deer. Isam's eyes were bursting from their sockets and appealed piteously for the help his stentorian voice was frantlcal- ly imploring until the woods rang with his agony. Major Worthington caught the nearest antler with his left hand and made a fierce lunge at the animal s throat. But the knife's point was miss ing, and only a trifiing wound was in ficted. The next instant the deer met the new attack with rush that carried Isam with it and thrust the major to the ground, the knife falling out of reach. Seeing this, the negro let go his hold, rolled out of the way, and with a mighty effort literally ran upon the top of branching haw bush, where he lay spread out like bat and moaning piteously:
 "Stick ter i'm, Mass Craffud, stick ter 'iml Wo', deer; wo', deerl Stick ter i'm, Mass Craffud!'
 And the major stuck. Retaining his presence of mind. he threw his left arm over the deer's neck, and still holding with his right the antler looked about for Isam. who had so mysteriously dis appeared. Something like the hold he had had more than once in boyhood and served him we'll in school combats. But he had never tried to hold full grown buck, and so he somewhat anxiously searched the scene for the valiant negro. The first words he heard distinctly were:
 "Stick ter i'm, Mass Craffud, stick ter 'iml Hits better fur one ter die den bofel Hole i'm, Mass" Craffud, hole i'm! Wo', deer; wo', deerl Stick ter i'm, Mass Craffudl Steddy! Look out fur es hon! Wo', deer! Steddy, Mass Craffud!'' By this time the struggles of the beast had again ceased, and wearied from h1s double encounter he stood with his head pulled down to the ground half astridt | the desperate man. who was holding or for life. Whether Major Worthingto1 was frightened or not it is hard to say | probably he was, but there was no doub ! about his being angry when he saw lsa1l 1 spread out in the haw bush and heard l his address. His face was livid witt I rage, and foam and sweat mingled up on it. AS soon as he caught his breath he burst forth with:
 "You internal black rascal, why don help-me?" Isam's face was pitiful il it's expression. His teeth chattered, an( he fairly shook the bush with trem bling
 Don, Mass Cratfud, don. You ain got no time ter cuss now. Lif' up yo voice en prayi LOT, LOT, eff ev'r mai had CT call ter pray, you dun got i now.
 For one instant it looked as if the ma jor would abandon his attempt to hol' the deer and turn his attention to tn bush, but he did not have an oppor tunity to carry out such a resolution Revived by his moment s rest, the buc made another effort for freedom and re venge. He dragged his corpulent caI tor in a circle, he rolled him on tn sod, he fell over him, pounded him an stamped, but without relief. The des perate man chung to his hold with
 grip that could not be broken. It wa the grip of death. Indeed it was nos a question of life or death.
 Wearied down at last, the deer gay himself and victim another breathin
 spell, and the major continued:
 "If eyer-I get loose from this -blut you internal scoundrel- not leay s-whole bone in your body!"
 Don say dat, Mass Craffud, don
 You mustn't let de sun go down o , yo' wrafl o Lor!' he continued, ge ting on his all fours and as near
 reverent posture as the circumstance
 would admit of, don you mine nuth
 he es er-sayin now, COS he ain spol
 s'bl'. LOT, ef de .bes' angel you g
 wuz down dere in his fix en CT fool det
 wuz er-straddl'n i'm, dey ain no tell ;