Harry winced when the question was asked.  He felt the reality of his situation as he had not done before.  It was as if two paths had suddenly opened before him, and he was forced to choose between them.  On one side were strength, courage, enterprise, power of achievement, and memories of a wonderful past.  On the other side were weakness, ignorance, poverty, and the proud world’s social scorn.  He knew nothing of colored people except as slaves, and his whole soul shrank from equalizing himself with them.  He was fair enough to pass unchallenged among the fairest in the land, and yet a Christless prejudice had decreed that he should be a social pariah.  He sat, thoughtful and undecided, as if a great struggle were going on in his mind.  Finally the principal said, “I do not think that you should be assigned to a colored regiment because of the blood in your veins, but you will have, in such a regiment, better facilities for finding your mother and sister.”

“You are right, Mr. Bascom.  To find my mother and sister I call no task too heavy, no sacrifice too great.”

Since Harry had come North he had learned to feel profound pity for the slave.  But there is a difference between looking on a man as an object of pity and protecting him as such, and being identified with him and forced to share his lot.  To take his place with them on the arena of life was the test of his life, but love was stronger than pride.

His father was dead.  His mother and sister were enslaved by a mockery of justice.  It was more than a matter of choice where he should stand on the racial question.  He felt that he must stand where he could strike the most effective blow for their freedom.  With that thought strong in his mind, and as soon as he recovered, he went westward to find a colored regiment.  He told the recruiting officer that he wished to be assigned to a colored regiment.

“Why do you wish that,” said the officer, looking at Harry with an air of astonishment.

“Because I am a colored man.”

The officer look puzzled.  It was a new experience.  He had seen colored men with fair complexions anxious to lose their identity with the colored race and pose as white men, but here was a man in the flush of his early manhood, to whom could come dreams of promotion from a simple private to a successful general, deliberately turning his back upon every gilded hope and dazzling opportunity, to cast his lot with the despised and hated negro.

“I do not understand you,” said the officer.  “Surely you are a white man, and, as such, I will enlist you in a white regiment.”

“No,” said Harry, firmly, “I am a colored man, and unless I can be assigned to a colored regiment I am not willing to enter the army.”

“Well,” said the officer, “you are the d——­d’st fool I ever saw—­a man as white as you are turning his back upon his chances of promotion!  But you can take your choice.”