My impression is, that all these thoughts and thousands of others,
flashed through my mind, while I was surrounded by those wolves. But
it seemed to be the will of a merciful providence, that our lives
should be spared, and that we should not be destroyed by them.
I had no weapon of defence but a long bowie knife which I had slipped
from the Deacon. It was a very splendid blade, about two feet in
length, and about two inches in width. This used to be a part of his
armor of defence while walking about the plantation among his slaves.
The plan which I took to expel the wolves was a very dangerous one,
but it proved effectual. While they were advancing to me, prancing and
accumulating in number, apparently of all sizes and grades, who had
come to the feast, I thought just at this time, that there was no
alternative left but for me to make a charge with my bowie knife. I
well knew from the action of the wolves, that if I made no farther
resistance, they would soon destroy us, and if I made a break at them,
the matter could be no worse. I thought if I must die, I would die
striving to protect my little family from destruction, die striving
to escape from slavery.
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