I was an object of horror, even to myself. Life, in Baltimore,
when most oppressive, was a paradise to this. What had I done,
what had my parents done, that such a life as this should be
mine? That day, in the woods, I would have exchanged my manhood
for the brutehood of an ox.
Night came. I was still in the woods, unresolved what to do.
Hunger had not yet pinched me to the point of going home, and I
laid myself down in the leaves to rest; for I had been watching
for hunters all day, but not being molested during the day, I
expected no disturbance during the night. I had come to the
conclusion that Covey relied upon hunger to drive me home; and in
this I was quite correct--the facts showed that he had made no
effort to catch me, since morning.
During the night, I heard the step of a man in the woods. He was
coming toward the place where I lay. A person lying still has
the advantage over one walking in the woods, in the day time, and
this advantage is much greater at night. I was not able to
engage in a physical struggle, and I had recourse to the common
resort of the weak.
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