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Book: Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave.txt
Page: 33
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s and be starved to death.
That night, I fell in with Sandy Jenkins, a slave with whom I was
somewhat acquainted. Sandy had a free wife who lived about four miles
from Mr. Covey’s; and it being Saturday, he was on his way to see her.
I told him my circumstances, and he very kindly invited me to go home
with him. I went home with him, and talked this whole matter over, and
got his advice as to what course it was best for me to pursue. I found
Sandy an old adviser. He told me, with great solemnity, I must go back
to Covey; but that before I went, I must go with him into another part
of the woods, where there was a certain _root,_ which, if I would take
some of it with me, carrying it _always on my right side,_ would render
it impossible for Mr. Covey, or any other white man, to whip me. He
said he had carried it for years; and since he had done so, he had
never received a blow, and never expected to while he carried it. I at
first rejected the idea, that the simple carrying of a root in my
pocket would have any such effect as he had said, and was not disposed
to take it; but Sandy impressed the necessity with much earnestness,
telling me it could do no harm, if it did no good. To please him, I at
length took the root, and, according to his direction, carried it upon
my right side. This was Sunday morning. I immediately started for home;
and upon entering the yard gate, out came Mr. Covey on his way to
meeting. He spoke to me very kindly, bade me drive the pigs from a lot
near by, and passed on towards the church. Now, this singular conduct
of Mr. Covey really made me begin to think that there was something in
the _root_ which Sandy had given me; and had it been on any other day
than Sunday, I could have attributed the conduct to no other cause than
the influence of that root; and as it was, I was half inclined to think
the _root_ to be something more than I at first had taken it to be. All
went well till Monday morning. On this morning, the virtue of the
_root_ was fully tested. Long before daylight, I was called to go and
rub, curry, and feed, the horses. I obeyed, and was glad to obey. But
whilst thus engaged, whilst in the act of throwing down some blades
from the loft, Mr. Covey entered the stable with a long rope; and just
as I was half out of the loft, he caught hold of my legs, and was about
tying me. As soon as I found what he was up to, I gave a sudden spring,
and as I did so, he holding to my legs, I was brought sprawling on the
stable floor. Mr. Covey seemed now to think he had me, and could do
what he pleased; but at this moment—from whence came the spirit I don’t
know—I resolved to fight; and, suiting my action to the resolution, I
seized Covey hard by the throat; and as I did so, I rose. He held on to
me, and I to him. My resistance was so entirely unexpected that Covey
seemed taken all aback. He trembled like a leaf. This gave me
assurance, and I held him uneasy, causing the blood to run where I
touched him with the ends of my fingers. Mr. Covey soon called out to
Hughes for help. Hughes came, and, while Covey held me, attempted to
tie my right hand. While he was in the act of doing so, I watched my
chance, and gave him a heavy kick close under the ribs. This kick
fairly sickened Hughes, so that he left me in the hands of Mr. Covey.
This kick had the effect of not only weakening Hughes, but Covey also.
When he saw Hughes bending over with pain, his courage quailed. He
asked
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