<p><br/> <br/> CHAPTER VI.</p>
<p>Well, pretty soon the old man was up and around again, and then he went
for Judge Thatcher in the courts to make him give up that money, and he
went for me, too, for not stopping school. He catched me a couple of
times and thrashed me, but I went to school just the same, and dodged him
or outrun him most of the time. I didn’t want to go to school
much before, but I reckoned I’d go now to spite pap. That law
trial was a slow business—appeared like they warn’t ever going
to get started on it; so every now and then I’d borrow two or three
dollars off of the judge for him, to keep from getting a cowhiding. Every
time he got money he got drunk; and every time he got drunk he raised Cain
around town; and every time he raised Cain he got jailed. He was
just suited—this kind of thing was right in his line.</p>
<p>He got to hanging around the widow’s too much and so she told him at
last that if he didn’t quit using around there she would make
trouble for him. Well, <i>wasn’t</i> he mad? He said he would
show who was Huck Finn’s boss. So he watched out for me one
day in the spring, and catched me, and took me up the river about three
mile in a skiff, and crossed over to the Illinois shore where it was woody
and there warn’t no houses but an old log hut in a place where the
timber was so thick you couldn’t find it if you didn’t know
where it was.</p>
<p>He kept me with him all the time, and I never got a chance to run off. We
lived in that old cabin, and he always locked the door and put the key
under his head nights. He had a gun which he had stole, I reckon,
and we fished and hunted, and that was what we lived on. Every
little while he locked me in and went down to the store, three miles, to
the ferry, and traded fish and game for whisky, and fetched it home and
got drunk and had a good time, and licked me. The widow she found
out where I was by and by, and she sent a man over to try to get hold of
me; but pap drove him off with the gun, and it warn’t long after
that till I was used to being where I was, and liked it—all but the
cowhide part.</p>
<p>It was kind of lazy and jolly, laying off comfortable all day, smoking and
fishing, and no books nor study. Two months or more run along, and
my clothes got to be all rags and dirt, and I didn’t see how I’d
ever got to like it so well at the widow’s, where you had to wash,
and eat on a plate, and comb up, and go to bed and get up regular, and be
forever bothering over a book, and have old Miss Watson pecking at you all
the time. I didn’t want to go back no more. I had
stopped cussing, because the widow didn’t like it; but now I took to
it again because pap hadn’t no objections. It was pretty good
times up in the woods there, take it all around.</p>
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<p>But by and by pap got too handy with his hick’ry, and I couldn’t
stand it. I was all over welts. He got to going away so much, too,
and locking me in. Once he locked me in and was gone three days.
It was dreadful lonesome. I judged he had got drownded, and I
wasn’t ever going to get out any more. I was scared. I
made up my mind I would fix up some way to leave there. I had tried
to get out of that cabin many a time, but I couldn’t find no way.
There warn’t a window to it big enough for a dog to get
through. I couldn’t get up the chimbly; it was too narrow.
The door was thick, solid oak slabs. Pap was pretty careful
not to leave a knife or anything in the cabin when he was away; I reckon I
had hunted the place over as much as a hundred times; well, I was most all
the time at it, because it was about the only way to put in the time.
But this time I found something at last; I found an old rusty
wood-saw without any handle; it was laid in between a rafter and the
clapboards of the roof. I greased it up and went to work. There was
an old horse-blanket nailed against the logs at the far end of the cabin
behind the table, to keep the wind from blowing through the chinks and
putting the candle out. I got under the table and raised the
blanket, and went to work to saw a section of the big bottom log out—big
enough to let me through. Well, it was a good long job, but I was
getting towards the end of it when I heard pap’s gun in the woods.
I got rid of the signs of my work, and dropped the blanket and hid
my saw, and pretty soon pap come in.</p>
<p>Pap warn’t in a good humor—so he was his natural self. He
said he was down town, and everything was going wrong. His lawyer
said he reckoned he would win his lawsuit and get the money if they ever
got started on the trial; but then there was ways to put it off a long
time, and Judge Thatcher knowed how to do it. And he said people allowed
there’d be another trial to get me away from him and give me to the
widow for my guardian, and they guessed it would win this time. This
shook me up considerable, because I didn’t want to go back to the
widow’s any more and be so cramped up and sivilized, as they called
it. Then the old man got to cussing, and cussed everything and
everybody he could think of, and then cussed them all over again to make
sure he hadn’t skipped any, and after that he polished off with a
kind of a general cuss all round, including a considerable parcel of
people which he didn’t know the names of, and so called them what’s-his-name
when he got to them, and went right along with his cussing.</p>
<p>He said he would like to see the widow get me. He said he would
watch out, and if they tried to come any such game on him he knowed of a
place six or seven mile off to stow me in, where they might hunt till they
dropped and they couldn’t find me. That made me pretty uneasy
again, but only for a minute; I reckoned I wouldn’t stay on hand
till he got that chance.</p>
<p>The old man made me go to the skiff and fetch the things he had got. There
was a fifty-pound sack of corn meal, and a side of bacon, ammunition, and
a four-gallon jug of whisky, and an old book and two newspapers for
wadding, besides some tow. I toted up a load, and went back and set
down on the bow of the skiff to rest. I thought it all over, and I
reckoned I would walk off with the gun and some lines, and take to the
woods when I run away. I guessed I wouldn’t stay in one place,
but just tramp right across the country, mostly night times, and hunt and
fish to keep alive, and so get so far away that the old man nor the widow
couldn’t ever find me any more. I judged I would saw out and
leave that night if pap got drunk enough, and I reckoned he would. I
got so full of it I didn’t notice how long I was staying till the
old man hollered and asked me whether I was asleep or drownded.</p>
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<p>I got the things all up to the cabin, and then it was about dark. While
I was cooking supper the old man took a swig or two and got sort of warmed
up, and went to ripping again. He had been drunk over in town, and
laid in the gutter all night, and he was a sight to look at. A body
would a thought he was Adam—he was just all mud. Whenever his
liquor begun to work he most always went for the govment, this time he
says:</p>
<p>“Call this a govment! why, just look at it and see what it’s
like. Here’s the law a-standing ready to take a man’s son away
from him—a man’s own son, which he has had all the trouble and
all the anxiety and all the expense of raising. Yes, just as that
man has got that son raised at last, and ready to go to work and begin to
do suthin’ for <i>him</i> and give him a rest, the law up and goes
for him. And they call <i>that</i> govment! That ain’t
all, nuther. The law backs that old Judge Thatcher up and helps him
to keep me out o’ my property. Here’s what the law does:
The law takes a man worth six thousand dollars and up’ards,
and jams him into an old trap of a cabin like this, and lets him go round
in clothes that ain’t fitten for a hog. They call that govment!
A man can’t get his rights in a govment like this. Sometimes I’ve
a mighty notion to just leave the country for good and all. Yes, and I <i>told</i>
’em so; I told old Thatcher so to his face. Lots of ’em
heard me, and can tell what I said. Says I, for two cents I’d
leave the blamed country and never come a-near it agin. Them’s
the very words. I says look at my hat—if you call it a hat—but
the lid raises up and the rest of it goes down till it’s below my
chin, and then it ain’t rightly a hat at all, but more like my head
was shoved up through a jint o’ stove-pipe. Look at it, says I—such
a hat for me to wear—one of the wealthiest men in this town if I
could git my rights.</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, this is a wonderful govment, wonderful. Why, looky
here. There was a free nigger there from Ohio—a mulatter, most as
white as a white man. He had the whitest shirt on you ever see, too,
and the shiniest hat; and there ain’t a man in that town that’s
got as fine clothes as what he had; and he had a gold watch and chain, and
a silver-headed cane—the awfulest old gray-headed nabob in the
State. And what do you think? They said he was a p’fessor
in a college, and could talk all kinds of languages, and knowed
everything. And that ain’t the wust. They said he could <i>vote</i>
when he was at home. Well, that let me out. Thinks I, what is the
country a-coming to? It was ’lection day, and I was just about
to go and vote myself if I warn’t too drunk to get there; but when
they told me there was a State in this country where they’d let that
nigger vote, I drawed out. I says I’ll never vote agin. Them’s
the very words I said; they all heard me; and the country may rot for all
me—I’ll never vote agin as long as I live. And to see
the cool way of that nigger—why, he wouldn’t a give me the
road if I hadn’t shoved him out o’ the way. I says to
the people, why ain’t this nigger put up at auction and sold?—that’s
what I want to know. And what do you reckon they said? Why, they
said he couldn’t be sold till he’d been in the State six
months, and he hadn’t been there that long yet. There, now—that’s
a specimen. They call that a govment that can’t sell a free
nigger till he’s been in the State six months. Here’s a
govment that calls itself a govment, and lets on to be a govment, and
thinks it is a govment, and yet’s got to set stock-still for six
whole months before it can take a hold of a prowling, thieving, infernal,
white-shirted free nigger, and—”</p>
<p>Pap was agoing on so he never noticed where his old limber legs was taking
him to, so he went head over heels over the tub of salt pork and barked
both shins, and the rest of his speech was all the hottest kind of
language—mostly hove at the nigger and the govment, though he give
the tub some, too, all along, here and there. He hopped around the
cabin considerable, first on one leg and then on the other, holding first
one shin and then the other one, and at last he let out with his left foot
all of a sudden and fetched the tub a rattling kick. But it warn’t
good judgment, because that was the boot that had a couple of his toes
leaking out of the front end of it; so now he raised a howl that fairly
made a body’s hair raise, and down he went in the dirt, and rolled
there, and held his toes; and the cussing he done then laid over anything
he had ever done previous. He said so his own self afterwards.
He had heard old Sowberry Hagan in his best days, and he said it
laid over him, too; but I reckon that was sort of piling it on, maybe.</p>
<p>After supper pap took the jug, and said he had enough whisky there for two
drunks and one delirium tremens. That was always his word. I
judged he would be blind drunk in about an hour, and then I would steal
the key, or saw myself out, one or t’other. He drank and
drank, and tumbled down on his blankets by and by; but luck didn’t
run my way. He didn’t go sound asleep, but was uneasy. He
groaned and moaned and thrashed around this way and that for a long time.
At last I got so sleepy I couldn’t keep my eyes open all I
could do, and so before I knowed what I was about I was sound asleep, and
the candle burning.</p>
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<p>I don’t know how long I was asleep, but all of a sudden there was an
awful scream and I was up. There was pap looking wild, and skipping
around every which way and yelling about snakes. He said they was
crawling up his legs; and then he would give a jump and scream, and say
one had bit him on the cheek—but I couldn’t see no snakes.
He started and run round and round the cabin, hollering “Take
him off! take him off! he’s biting me on the neck!” I
never see a man look so wild in the eyes. Pretty soon he was all fagged
out, and fell down panting; then he rolled over and over wonderful fast,
kicking things every which way, and striking and grabbing at the air with
his hands, and screaming and saying there was devils a-hold of him. He
wore out by and by, and laid still a while, moaning. Then he laid
stiller, and didn’t make a sound. I could hear the owls and
the wolves away off in the woods, and it seemed terrible still. He
was laying over by the corner. By and by he raised up part way and
listened, with his head to one side. He says, very low:</p>
<p>“Tramp—tramp—tramp; that’s the dead; tramp—tramp—tramp;
they’re coming after me; but I won’t go. Oh, they’re
here! don’t touch me—don’t! hands off—they’re
cold; let go. Oh, let a poor devil alone!”</p>
<p>Then he went down on all fours and crawled off, begging them to let him
alone, and he rolled himself up in his blanket and wallowed in under the
old pine table, still a-begging; and then he went to crying. I could
hear him through the blanket.</p>
<p>By and by he rolled out and jumped up on his feet looking wild, and he see
me and went for me. He chased me round and round the place with a
clasp-knife, calling me the Angel of Death, and saying he would kill me,
and then I couldn’t come for him no more. I begged, and told
him I was only Huck; but he laughed <i>such</i> a screechy laugh, and
roared and cussed, and kept on chasing me up. Once when I turned
short and dodged under his arm he made a grab and got me by the jacket
between my shoulders, and I thought I was gone; but I slid out of the
jacket quick as lightning, and saved myself. Pretty soon he was all tired
out, and dropped down with his back against the door, and said he would
rest a minute and then kill me. He put his knife under him, and said he
would sleep and get strong, and then he would see who was who.</p>
<p>So he dozed off pretty soon. By and by I got the old split-bottom
chair and clumb up as easy as I could, not to make any noise, and got down
the gun. I slipped the ramrod down it to make sure it was loaded,
then I laid it across the turnip barrel, pointing towards pap, and set
down behind it to wait for him to stir. And how slow and still the
time did drag along.</p>
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