When we came opposite to the two riders, I gave a shrill whistle, and with Cludde at my side dashed from among the trees.  So sudden and unexpected was the assault that the overseers had no time to defend themselves.  Cludde and I hauled them from their saddles and held them fast while two of the negroes brought from the wagons ropes wherewith to bind them.  The negro drivers let forth a yell and dropped their reins when the rest of our party sprang out from the copse.  The convoy halted and Uncle Moses in a very little time made the drivers understand that they must either do what we bade them or be trussed up and left in the woods.  With night approaching this latter alternative had too many terrors to make it acceptable, and the men professed themselves willing to render utter obedience, the more readily in that Vetch and his gang of desperadoes were well hated by all the hands upon the estate.

One of them, who Uncle Moses told me, was a bad character, we bound and placed with the overseers in one of the wagons, which we then drew into the copse out of sight from the road.

Cludde and I deliberated for a moment whether we should mount the overseers’ horses and ride on with the wagons.  But we decided not to tempt fate.  Before we reached the big house we should have to pass that of the principal overseer of the estate, and though the sky was already dusking, and it would be dark before we arrived, there were many chances that we might be seen by the buccaneers or others as we came within the bounds, and being in our officers’ habiliments we should be marked and the alarm given.  So we resolved to get into the first wagon, and cover ourselves with the sacking it contained as soon as we came to the borders of the plantations.  Uncle Moses seated himself beside the driver of the first wagon, Noah on the second, and the rest of our party got into this wagon and likewise hid under sacking.

The stables, as I had learned from Uncle Moses, lay beyond the big house, so that our driving by would awaken no suspicion.  In order that we might gain the further advantage of darkness, Uncle Moses drove slowly, and there was but a glimmer of twilight when we reached the house of the overseer.  He had heard the rumbling of our wheels, and was standing at his gate as we came up.  Seeing only the wagons and no horsemen, he cried out to know where the rest were.  The negro beside Uncle Moses (who shrank back to escape recognition) made ready answer that the third wagon had broken down, and would come on presently with the overseers.  The white man rapped out an oath, declaring (with what truth I know not) that the cursed wagon was always breaking down, and we drove past.  Two of the buccaneers were smoking at the gates of the big house when we came up, and they hailed us in rough sailor fashion, but showed no curiosity; the work of the estate was no concern of theirs.