His
first business was to carry out his fixed purpose of whipping the young
runaway. In the meantime Fred had likewise fully decided upon a course
of action. He was ready to submit to any kind of work, however hard or
unreasonable, but determined to defend himself against any attempt at
another flogging. In the cold passion that took possession of him, the
slave-boy became utterly reckless of consequences, reasoning to himself
that the limit of suffering at the hands of this relentless
slave-breaker had already been reached. He was resolved to fight and
did fight. He began his morning work in peace, obeying promptly every
order from his master, and while he was in the act of going up to the
stable-loft for the purpose of pitching down some hay, he was caught
and thrown by Covey, in an attempt to get a slip knot about his legs.
Douglass flew at Covey's throat recklessly, hurled his antagonist to
the ground, and held him firmly. Blood followed the nails of the
infuriated young slave. He scarcely knew how to account for his
fighting strength, and his daredevil spirit so dumfounded the master
that he gaspingly said: "Are you going to resist me, you young
scoundrel?" "Yes, sir," was the quick reply.
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