I
had in my pocket a purse of gold, which I proffered to a merchant of
the place, an upright business man, with the request that he would
send it to my wife; but he declined to take it. He afterwards
explained to me that he himself was afraid of the mob. They took a
skiff and towed the raft out into the middle of the Missouri River. As
we swung away from the bank, I rose up and said: "Gentlemen, if I am
drowned I forgive you; but I have this to say to you: If you are not
ashamed of your part in this transaction, I am not ashamed of mine.
Good-by."
Floating down the river, alone and helpless, I had opportunity to look
about me. I had noticed that they had put up a flag on my raft, but
had paid no attention to it; now I looked at it and it charged me with
stealing negroes; and it was thought by many to be no sin to shoot a
"nigger thief." Down that flag must come; and then I remembered that
they had said they would follow me down the river and shoot me if I
did pull it down. The picture on the flag was that of a white man
riding at full gallop, on horseback, with a negro behind him.
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