The first incident occurred about an hour into our journey. Some "pattyrollers" stopped us and demanded to see our papers. I produced mine, but Uncle Ned had forgotten to get his. A big chill came over me. I spoke up saying that I had known Uncle Ned all my life and tried to assure them that he was a free man. But before I could convince them, they tied him up and hauled him away screaming.

I wanted to follow them, but my packhorses would be too slow. If only I hadn't insisted on this trip, Uncle Ned would still be OK. Reporting it would do no good. The authorities would not take my word that a free Black man had been kidnapped by white men.

I fell down to the ground and sobbed. After a while I concluded that going home would do no good. The most rational thing to do would be to continue the journey. If I could fetch a good price for Big Mama's tobacco, then I would at least have something worthwhile to show for the trip.