street toward
the river, which sheltered ships from all over the world.

"All this makes me feel a little like Sinbad," he said, "but I reckon
even Sinbad never visited New Orleans. I sure do like it here."

But soon Abe began to see other sights that made him sick at heart. He
and Allen passed a warehouse where slaves were being sold at auction. A
crowd had gathered inside. Several Negroes were standing on a platform
called an auction block. One by one they stepped forward. A man called
an auctioneer asked in a loud voice, "What am I offered? Who will make
the first bid?"

"Five hundred," called one man.

"Six hundred," called another.

The bids mounted higher. Each slave was sold to the man who bid, or
offered to pay, the most money. One field hand and his wife were sold to
different bidders. There were tears in the woman's dark eyes as he was
led away. She knew that she would never see her husband again.

"Let's get out of here," said Abe. "I can't stand any more."

They walked back to their own flatboat tied up at one of the wharves.
Allen got supper, but Abe could not eat.

"Don't look like that," said Allen. "Many of the folks down here
inherited their slaves, same as their land. Slavery ain't their fault."

"I never said it was anybody's fault--at least not anybody who's living
now. But it just ain't right for one man to own another."

"Well, stop worrying. There's nothing you can do about it."

"Maybe not," said Abe gloomily, "but I'm mighty glad there aren't any
slaves in Indiana."

Allen stayed on in New Orleans for several days to sell his cargo. It
brought a good price. He then sold his flatboat, which would be broken
up and used for lumber. Flatboats could not travel upstream. He and Abe
would either have to walk back to Indiana, or they could take a
steamboat.

"We'd better not walk, carrying all this money," said Allen. "Pretty
lonely country going home. We might get robbed."

The steamboat trip was a piece of good fortune that Abe had not
expected. He enjoyed talking with the other passengers. The speed at
which they traveled seemed a miracle. It had taken the boys a month to
make the trip downstream by flatboat. They were returning upstream in
little more than a week. They were standing together by the rail when
the cabins of Rockport, perched on a high wooded bluff, came into view.

"It sure was good of your pa to give me this chance," said Abe. "I've
seen some sights I wish I hadn't,