{{huckfp167.jpg}}

ssssssssss

ssssssssss

Chapter XX

ssssssssss

They asked us considerable many questions;

wanted to know what we covered up ssssssssss

the raft that way for, and laid by in ssssssssss

the day-time instead of running -- was ssssssssss

Jim a runaway nigger? Says I -- ssssssssss

"Goodness sakes, would a runaway

nigger run south?" ssssssssss

No, they allowed he wouldn't. I

had to account for things some way, so ssssssssss

I says:

"My folks was living in Pike

County, in Missouri, where I was born, ssssssssss

and they all died off but me and pa ssssssssss

and my brother Ike. Pa, he 'lowed ssssssssss

he'd break up and go down and live ssssssssss

with Uncle Ben, who's got a little one- ssssssssss

horse place on the river, forty-four mile ssssssssss

below Orleans. Pa was pretty poor, and had some debts; so when he'd

squared up there warn't nothing left but sixteen dollars and our nigger, Jim.

That warn't enough to take us fourteen hundred mile, deck passage nor no other

way. Well, when the river rose, pa had a streak of luck one day; he ketched

this piece of a raft; so we reckoned we'd go down to Orleans on it. Pa's luck

didn't hold out; a steamboat run over the forrard corner of the raft, one night,

and we all went overboard and dove under the wheel; Jim and me come up, all

right, but pa was drunk, and Ike was only four years old, so they never come up

 [167]