Viewing page 116 of 362

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

104      TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE.

have borne his gentle servitude, without murmuring, all my days, But clouds were gathering in the horizon - forerunners of a pitiless storm that was soon to break over me. I was doomed to endure such bitter trials as the poor slave only knows, and to lead no more the comparatively happy life which I had led in the "Great Pine Woods."