Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1903-11-21
[cOpyrtght, lsOs, By c. N. Lurle.l


Thanksgiving birds about Nov. 90
1868. This uncertain chronology is due
to the fact that half a dozen of us wal
prison refugees, who had escaped from
the Georgia stockades, were making
our homeward journey by the sole
guidance of the north star. When we
struck the eastern slope of the Cum
berland mountains in southwestern
Virginia late autumn was upon US.
The plentiful wild grapes had been
touched by frost, persimmons We're
dropping, dead ripe, and corn had been
shucked and stored beyond our reach.
We didn't know the day of the week,
much less that of the month, for we
passed days and nights sometimes hid
ing from pursuers in dark caves and
slept from sheer exhaustion without
reference TO the rising or the setting of
the sun. One day we came upon cabin
hidden in the mountain wilds occupied
by negro who, like ourselves, was a
refugee. at the beginning of the war
he had run away from his master in
east Tennessee and started blindly to
meet up with 'Massa Linkum's So
gers" Having lost his way and got
frightened by the roaming bushwhack
ers who infested the mountains, he
built a cabin and waited for that jul
biIee of freedom his Simple faith told
him must come. With eyes almost
bursting from their sockets he listened
to our story of the emancipation-how
Lincoln had struck the letters off from
every slave and if once he could reach
Yankee territory there would be no
more dragging him back to slavery.
When the poor wretch comprehended
the wonderful story he sat silent for
a long time. Then he looked into the
face of each of us, a CLEAN of peace
growing brighter and brighter on his
ebony skin. 'Yo' all is shuah huff
Yanks,' said he, "else yo' amt talkin'
dat away to Black Sam" Nothing we
could say was stronger than the ne
gro's logic. "Yo's Yanks, an yos hun
CRY. I'ze hungry, too-hungry for tur-
key, 'kase dis about Thanksgiben time.
Ize gwine kill de bird o. freedom an
glib yo' all a dinner" For moment
we thought the startling news of eman-
cipation had turned the poor slaves
brain. There was no sign of poultry
culture about the premises.
Black Sam saw the doubt written on
our faces. "Oh, TZe got dat turkey, all
rightr' he shouted. bin waitin' tree
year fur tas'e O. him. 'Twuz dis away:
1 lowed de niggahs gwine get free all
account O. Massa Linkum. an I said
Black Sam n-e-b-e-r goin' eat turkey
twell freedom done come First turkey
I cotch he git fat an nice, an freedom
amt come, so he git ole an tough, an
I pih him for do huzz'rf1c CocOnd fI1r-
key he git fat, too, but no freedom yit.
He git tough, an de buzz'rds git him.
Den 1 cotch one mo, an 1 say dis de
bird o. freedom, shuah. Now, lux yer"
With that he led the way up the |
mountain side till he came to a tangle |
of wild grape vines which fell over |
the rocks and trees like a huge wall. |
These he parted deftIy and conducted |
us to spacious glen shut out from |
the prying world. Tied to stake with |
a long rope was a fat turkey. 'See de |
bird o. freedom?'' says he, with a /
broad African grin. "Cotched dis chick |
about las Chris mus ober de moun'n. |
Hide him yer all day, an nighttime |
take him out in de beech woods so he |
get fat fO' de day O. jubilee. Now got |
de Thanksgiben tas'e in de mouf, an
jubilee done Gomez
After more of his palaver it was set
tied that he would roast the bird in a
rude oven built in the hillside, then
serve it in the cabin. Meanwhile we
wornout tramps would sleep ourselves
into a fitting appetite for the jubilee
feast, which was to be turkey and corn
pone. Black Sam led us back to the
cabin and showed aside some of the
poles which made a flooring for the
loft overhead. Climbing up with the
help of a rude bench, we found car
peting of mountain grass for our bed
and q space just large enough to lie
down spoon fashion, as we'd done in
prison, and aired by hole cut in the
gables. Black Sam descended, and we
moved the loose poles back into posi-
ton. "Ain' no bushwhackin' secesh
gwine lux fur yo' up dare" said he,
with chuckle, and went his way to
prepare the turkey.
After a long sleep we awoke and
crept down from the loft, wondering
that we had not been hidden to the
feast. Black Sam was sitting like a
mourner, with his lank yellow dog for
n companion in misery. By the light
Of a waning fire in the chimney we
saw the well picked bones of a turkey
and some scraps of pone on the board.
What had happened? Surely that woe
begone negro and his woebegone dog
had not regaled themselves on the bird
Of freedom. We looked from one to
the other of our crowd and then to our
host, who trembliDgly began his story
of the disastrous jubilee fete. Said
he: ''Dess git dat turkey an dat pone
ready an mex to call yo' all to Thanks
giben when long come passed. o. Cap'n
Noah's secesh critter company sneakin'
around an say dey lookin' fur Yam >