Ishmael was all these; his delicate organization was susceptible of intense enjoyment or suffering.  He had never in his life been five miles from his native place; he had just risen from a sick-bed as from a grave; he was going to penetrate a little beyond his native round of hills, and see what was on the other side; the morning was young, the season was early, the world was fresh; this day seemed a new birth to Ishmael; this journey a new start in his life; he intensely enjoyed it all; to him all was delightful:  the ride through the beautiful, green, blossoming woods; the glimpses of the blue sky through the quivering upper leaves; the shining of the sun; the singing of the birds; the fragrance of the flowers.

To him the waving trees seemed bending in worship, the birds trilling hymns of joy, and the flowers wafting offerings of incense!  There are times when earth seems heaven and all nature worshipers.  Ishmael was divinely happy; even the lost image of Claudia reappeared now surrounded with a halo of hope, for to-day aspirations seemed prophecies, will seemed power, and all things possible.  And not on Ishmael alone beamed the blessed influence of the spring weather.  Even Hannah’s care-worn face was softened into contentment and enjoyment.  As for Reuben’s honest phiz, it was a sight to behold in its perfect satisfaction.  Even the negro driver of the heavy wagon let his horses take their time as he raised his ear to catch some very delicate trill in a bird’s song, or turned his head to inhale the perfume from some bank of flowers.

Onward they journeyed at their leisure through all that glad morning landscape.

At noon they stopped at a clearing around a cool spring in the woods, and while the negro fed and watered the horses, they rested and refreshed themselves with a substantial luncheon, and then strolled about through the shades until “Sam” had eaten his dinner, re-packed the hamper, and put the horses to the wagons again.  And then they all returned to their seats and recommenced their journey.

On and on they journeyed through the afternoon; deeper and deeper they descended into the forest as the sun declined in the west.  When it was on the edge of the horizon, striking long golden lines through the interstices of the woods, Hannah grew rather anxious, and she spoke up: 

“It seems to me, Reuben, that we have come ten miles since we saw a house or a farm.”

“Yes, my dear.  We are now in the midst of the old forest of Prince George’s, and our home is yet about five miles off.  But don’t be afraid, Hannah, woman; you have got me with you, and we will get home before midnight.”

“I am only thinking of the runaway negroes, Reuben; they all take refuge in these thick woods, you know; and they are a very desperate gang; their hands against everybody and everybody’s hands against them, you may say.”

“True, Hannah; they are desperate enough, for they have everything to fear and nothing to hope, in a meeting with most of the whites; but there is no danger to us, child.”