twilight and sipped apple cider. "What did you pay for that slave with the lame leg?"
"Ha!" Silas laughed. "Him and his brother cost me 300 shillings and 20 gallons of rum for the both of them. His brother already lies dead in the field."
"I'll give you five gold eagle coins for that lame one," Macon said. "Take it or leave it."
Silas took it. When Macon Waymon set out for home, Caleb limped along behind his new master's horse.
Fool! Silas Leland laughed to himself. That man just bought himself a cripple!
Fool! Macon Waymon smiled. That man doesn't know a prize worker when he sees one!
"Over yonder!" Kit called out to Caleb. "It be Juba, and he be comin' our way. Best look busy."
Because he already was busy, Caleb paid Kit no mind.
"You almost be done with your section, Caleb!" Juba shouted over. "You plannin' to quit early so's you can work dat garden of your'n?"
Caleb nodded.
Juba strode across Caleb's field and on to Kit's field. He looked at Kit, but he kept right on going to the field on the other side.
"Him bein' boss over us! It ain't right!" Kit scowled. "He gets a cabin all to hisself and shoes to wear on dem big black feet of his. We gets boiled pig's feet to eat and he gets smoked bacon."
"And he ain't welcome among his own people, neither," Caleb said.
"Amongst folks he done whupped? Whose ears he's sliced off? No, he shore enough ain't welcome amongst dem!"
"Juba ain't sliced off no ears, and you knows it," Caleb said."Bein' driver of us does keep his wife comfortable in de cabin and de whip off her back, though. And his children—dey still be alive. Massa ain't sold dem away, neither."
Caleb thrust his hoe into the ground. Sweet Grace, grabbed up by the slavers, and him bound in chains and helpless to fight back. Then little Kwate pulled out of her arms and dashed against the rocks. Caleb would be a driver like Juba if he could protect his family. Oh, yes, he surely would. A kind driver, though. And fair. Always he would be fair.
Caleb thumped the hoe against a tree stump—just hard enough to shake the worst of the mud clods loose, but not hard enough to knock off the broken head.
To keep water moving in and out of the low-country rice paddies, many slaves had to labor constantly at clearing the swamps. On Master Macon's plantation, tides brought fresh water in to irrigate the swamps. Dikes held the salt water back— except when muskrats or alligators undercut them, which happened all too often. Inside the large, walled-up areas, drainage and irrigation canals set off smaller fields and divided them up."Rice trunks"—heavy gates—regulated the canals.
As driver, it was Juba's responsibility to assign individual slaves to work specific fields. Caleb had the field farthest from the slave quarters, and Kit's field jutted up beside Caleb's.Slaves who worked hard and efficiently, as Caleb did, could finish early—which is why Caleb had been able to plant and successfully tend a vegetable garden. Those who spent too much time talking and complaining, the way Kit did, didn't finish their fields until dark.
When Master Macon first bought Caleb from Silas Leland and led him home to his plantation, the slaves had just begun to prepare the fields for planting. Kit showed Caleb how to yoke the oxen and use them to plow and harrow the soft ground.After the fields were flooded and drained, Kit demonstrated the proper way to plant the rice. As the plants sprouted, Kit had shown Caleb how to work his hoe through the mud.
"Soon now, Massa Macon be leavin' here," Kit called over to Caleb.
If Kit hoped to get Caleb's attention, he succeeded."Leavin'?" Caleb asked. "Where Massa be goin' to?"
"Takin' his family to his fine house in de city. Massa Macon don't want to be out here when de weather turns hot."
"Why not?"
"Mosquitoes. Dey swarms everywhere in de hot season," Kit said. "People gets jungle fever."
Kit laughed at the troubled look that crossed Caleb's face.
"When dem white folks be gone away,
"Ha!" Silas laughed. "Him and his brother cost me 300 shillings and 20 gallons of rum for the both of them. His brother already lies dead in the field."
"I'll give you five gold eagle coins for that lame one," Macon said. "Take it or leave it."
Silas took it. When Macon Waymon set out for home, Caleb limped along behind his new master's horse.
Fool! Silas Leland laughed to himself. That man just bought himself a cripple!
Fool! Macon Waymon smiled. That man doesn't know a prize worker when he sees one!
"Over yonder!" Kit called out to Caleb. "It be Juba, and he be comin' our way. Best look busy."
Because he already was busy, Caleb paid Kit no mind.
"You almost be done with your section, Caleb!" Juba shouted over. "You plannin' to quit early so's you can work dat garden of your'n?"
Caleb nodded.
Juba strode across Caleb's field and on to Kit's field. He looked at Kit, but he kept right on going to the field on the other side.
"Him bein' boss over us! It ain't right!" Kit scowled. "He gets a cabin all to hisself and shoes to wear on dem big black feet of his. We gets boiled pig's feet to eat and he gets smoked bacon."
"And he ain't welcome among his own people, neither," Caleb said.
"Amongst folks he done whupped? Whose ears he's sliced off? No, he shore enough ain't welcome amongst dem!"
"Juba ain't sliced off no ears, and you knows it," Caleb said."Bein' driver of us does keep his wife comfortable in de cabin and de whip off her back, though. And his children—dey still be alive. Massa ain't sold dem away, neither."
Caleb thrust his hoe into the ground. Sweet Grace, grabbed up by the slavers, and him bound in chains and helpless to fight back. Then little Kwate pulled out of her arms and dashed against the rocks. Caleb would be a driver like Juba if he could protect his family. Oh, yes, he surely would. A kind driver, though. And fair. Always he would be fair.
Caleb thumped the hoe against a tree stump—just hard enough to shake the worst of the mud clods loose, but not hard enough to knock off the broken head.
To keep water moving in and out of the low-country rice paddies, many slaves had to labor constantly at clearing the swamps. On Master Macon's plantation, tides brought fresh water in to irrigate the swamps. Dikes held the salt water back— except when muskrats or alligators undercut them, which happened all too often. Inside the large, walled-up areas, drainage and irrigation canals set off smaller fields and divided them up."Rice trunks"—heavy gates—regulated the canals.
As driver, it was Juba's responsibility to assign individual slaves to work specific fields. Caleb had the field farthest from the slave quarters, and Kit's field jutted up beside Caleb's.Slaves who worked hard and efficiently, as Caleb did, could finish early—which is why Caleb had been able to plant and successfully tend a vegetable garden. Those who spent too much time talking and complaining, the way Kit did, didn't finish their fields until dark.
When Master Macon first bought Caleb from Silas Leland and led him home to his plantation, the slaves had just begun to prepare the fields for planting. Kit showed Caleb how to yoke the oxen and use them to plow and harrow the soft ground.After the fields were flooded and drained, Kit demonstrated the proper way to plant the rice. As the plants sprouted, Kit had shown Caleb how to work his hoe through the mud.
"Soon now, Massa Macon be leavin' here," Kit called over to Caleb.
If Kit hoped to get Caleb's attention, he succeeded."Leavin'?" Caleb asked. "Where Massa be goin' to?"
"Takin' his family to his fine house in de city. Massa Macon don't want to be out here when de weather turns hot."
"Why not?"
"Mosquitoes. Dey swarms everywhere in de hot season," Kit said. "People gets jungle fever."
Kit laughed at the troubled look that crossed Caleb's face.
"When dem white folks be gone away,
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