did not go, but went off down through the garden and through the
woods, and made my way for the city. When I got into Memphis, I found at
the landing a boat called the Statesman, and I sneaked aboard. It was
not expected that the boat would stay more than a few hours, but, for
some reason, it stayed all night. The boat was loaded with sugar, and I
hid myself behind four hogsheads. I could see both engineers, one each
side of me. When night came on, I crept out from my hiding place, and
went forward to search for food and water, for I was thirsty and very
hungry. I found the table where the deck hands had been eating, and
managed to get a little food, left from their meal, and some water. This
was by no means enough, but I had to be content, and went back to my
place of concealment. I had been on board the boat three days; and, on
the third night, when I came out to hunt food, the second mate saw me.
In a minute he eyed me over and said: "Why, I have a reward for you." In
a second he had me go up stairs to the captain. This raised a great
excitement among the passengers; and, in a minute, I was besieged with
numerous questions. Some spoke as if they were sorry for me, and said if
they had known I was a poor runaway slave they would have slipped me
ashore. The whole boat was in alarm. It seemed to me they were
consulting slips of paper. One said: "Yes, he is the same. Listen how
this reads:"

"Ran away from Edmund McGee, my mulatto boy Louis, 5 feet 6 inches in
height, black hair, is very bright and intelligent. Will give $500 for
him alive, and half of this amount for knowledge that he has been
killed."

My heart sprang into my throat when I heard two men read this
advertisement. I knew, at once, what it all meant, remembering how often
I had heard Boss read such articles from the papers and from the
handbills that were distributed through the city. The captain asked me
if I could dance. It seemed he felt sorry for me, for he said: "That's a
bright boy to be a slave." Then turning to me he said: "Come, give us a
dance." I was young and nimble, so I danced a few of the old southern
clog dances, and sang one or two songs, like this:

"Come along, Sam, the fifer's son,
Aint you mighty glad your day's work's done?"

After I finished singing and dancing, the captain took up a collection
for me and got about two dollars. This cheered me a good deal. I knew
that I would need money if I should ever succeed in getting