Chapter 8

I'm on my way to Canada, That cold and dreary land; The sad effects of slavery, I can't no longer stand. I've served my master all my days, Widout a dime's reward; And now I'm forced to run away, To flee the lash abroad. Farewell, ole master, don't think hard of me, I'll travel on to Canada, where all the slaves are free. The hounds are baying on my track, Ole master comes behind, Resolved that he will …