From 18 to 27 I was considered one of the most devout Christians among the whole Black population, and under this impression I firmly believed to run away from my master would be to sin against the Holy Ghost—for such we are taught to believe—but from the time of my wife’s being sent away, I firmly made up my mind to take the first opportunity to run away. I had learned that if a Black man wished to escape he will have no chance to do so unless he be well supplied with money; to attain this I arranged with a Dutchman to steal small pigs, chickens, and any poultry that was possible to lay my hands on, and thus I proceeded for nine or ten months, when I found my accumulation to be 124 dollars. Among the plantations I visited was Mr. Rogers’, and he had three large bloodhounds let loose about nine at night, but I had made them acquainted with me by feeding them at intervals quietly, unknown to him or his people, and this enabled me to carry on my depredations on his plantation quietly and unmolested. Rogers having suspected these depredations, and not being able to find the thief, set a patrol to watch, who, armed with a double-barreled gun, fixed himself under a fence about seven feet high, surrounded with bushes; but this happened to be my usual way of going to his plantation, and as I made my usual spring to go over, I fell right on the top of his head, and he shouted lustily, and I shouted also, neither of us knowing what really had occurred, and our fears imagining the worst and causing him to run one way and me another. After travelling about a quarter of a mile I thought of my bag, which had been dropped during my fright, and knowing that my master’s initials were on the bag, and the consequences of the bag being found would be fearful, I determined to return for the bag and recover it, or die in the attempt. I searched for and found a club, then I returned to the spot and found the bag there, and by the side of it lay