Stevens stopped them by saying: No, no, boys, you must not touch the prisoners, but you may look at them as much as you like.
And the men did look, making remarks, speculating as to whether we were virgins or not, pointing the difference in the shape of our figures and observing the color of the hair on our respective spots, while we blushed and cried with shame.
You have seen my spot and know what it is like; there is nothing remarkable about it. But Miss Dean’s spot was somewhat remarkable. I had never seen it before, and I could not help looking at it with astonishment. It was covered with a thick forest of glossy, dark-brown hair which extended some distance up her belly and descended between her thighs in curly locks nearly two inches long. The fissure was completely hidden and not a trace of the lips could be seen.
One man, after a prolonged stare, exclaimed: By Gosh! I’ve never seen such a fleece between a woman’s legs in my life! Darn me if she wouldn’t have to be sheared before a man could get into her.
The men roared with laughter at the remark, while Miss Dean groaned and writhed in the bitterness of her shame.
After looking at our naked bodies for fully five minutes, the men went on with their work. A long piece of rope was passed several times round our bodies so that our arms and wrists were lashed closely to our sides. We then were lifted bodily up and, to my intense horror, seated astride one of the topmost rails of the fence, facing each other and about six feet apart.
The rail passed between our naked thighs, and our bare bottoms rested on the sharp edge of it.
On each side of the fence and close to it the men had driven stakes into the ground, and to these stakes our ankles ’ were securely tied. When the men had fixed us in this painful position, they allowed our clothes to fall about our legs. Our nakedness was covered, but our torture had begun.
Stevens looked at us with a grin on his face, saying: There now; you are properly mounted on your horses. We’re done with you and we’re all going away. But at the end of two hours one of us will come back and loosen you. And I reckon you’ll both be mighty stiff after your ride.
Then the band of lynchers took their departure, laughing and shouting coarse jokes which made us, even in our pain, grow hot with shame. The clatter of the horses’ hoofs and the loud laughter of the men gradually died away in the distance. Then all was perfectly still.
CHAPTER SIX
It was a beautiful, calm, bright evening. The sun was just setting and the house, the garden and our two unfortunate selves were bathed in a flood of amber light At first I had entertained a faint hope that Martha would come back once the men had gone and would release us.
However, she never came, and there did not seem to be the slightest chance of anyone else’s coming to the house at that hour. Thus, escape being seen as impossible, I resigned myself to the thought that Miss Dean and I would be forced to undergo the whole of our dreadful punishment.
From the first moment of our being placed astride the rail we had been suffering pain. Now it was increasing every minute. We did not speak to one another-our sufferings were too great! — so we just sat in silence with the tears, which we could not wipe off, trickling down our pale cheeks, while every now and then a shuddering sob or a groan of anguish would break from our parched lips.
Since our legs were rather widely stretched apart, the rail was imbedded in the cleft between our thighs and the weight of our bodies forced the sharp edge deeply into the division between the cheeks of our bottoms. Consequently the most delicate part of our persons was hurt by the pressure. Just imagine our positions and think what it meant to individuals of the female sex! Miss Dean, throughout the whole time we were on the rail, bore her sufferings bravely. Alas, I, for my part, could not.
As the minutes slowly parsed, the pain grew more and more excruciating. In addition, my bottom still was smarting and the weals on it still were throbbing. I felt as if the wedge-shaped rail were slowly splitting me.
Sharp, lancinating pains darted through my loins and up my back. Since my ankles were tightly fastened to the stake, I could not alter my position in the slightest degree. If my arms had not been bound to my sides, I might have gained a little temporary ease by resting my hands on the rail and thus taking some of the weight off my bottom. But the men, in their devilish ingenuity, had taken care that we should not have even a moment’s respite from our tortures. Even if we had fainted, we would not have fallen off the fence: the upper part of our bodies would have dropped either forward or backward, but our legs, tied to the stakes, would have remained straddled over the rail, and the sharp edge still would have remained between the cheeks of our bottoms.
Before long, every nerve in my body was throbbing with agony. A cold dew of perspiration had broken out on my forehead. I groaned and writhed and twisted about, but the more I did so, the more firmly the sharp rail was imbedded in my tender cleft.
I began to scream, and, but for the grace of God, might even have cursed. Miss Dean, meanwhile, was crying, and her face showed the anguish which she felt. However, she made no outcry.
A few minutes more of agony slowly passed. Then I saw a man enter the lane and come towards the house. He was not one of the lynchers, so my heart bounded with joy. We should be released in a few moments!
I redoubled my cries, begging him to come quickly to our assistance. However, he did not hurry himself in the least. He walked deliberately and slowly up the path, and, alas, when he got a little nearer, I saw that he was none other than Randolph.
A few days previously I had hoped never to set eyes on him again. But now I was intensely delighted to see him. Oh, Mr. Randolph! I gasped out in a choking voice, with tears streaming down my cheeks. Take me down! Oh! Take me down quickly!
He came close to the fence and stood looking down at Miss Dean and me. He had a smile on his face.
Oh dear, Mr. Randolph! I again wailed. ’Take me down! Do be quick and take me down!
But, to my horror, he did not move. Well, he said mockingly, if it isn’t Miss Ruth Dean and Miss Dorothy Morton. This is what slave-running has brought you. And it is to me that you owe your present position. I let the ’white’ people know of your doings, and you have been rightly and smartly punished. I told you, Dolly, that we should meet again, and we have met.
I knew that the men were coming to pay you a visit this evening, so I came with them, and, though you did not see me, I saw both of you getting your bottoms whipped. I must say, Dolly, you squealed just like a pig being killed.
He paused to laugh, and a sickening feeling of despair came over me. The cruel man, not content with having set the lynchers on us, had come to mock us in our agony.
He continued: I am afraid that your bottoms- especially yours, Miss Dean-must be very tender after the smart switching, and I am sure that you both must be extremely uncomfortable on your present seats. The edges are sharp, and I have no doubt that they are pressing sorely on a certain delicate ’spot’ between your thighs.
Miss Dean’s face was working with pain and her eyes were full of tears. But, when she heard Randolph’s coarse and indecent words, she put aside her suffering and was consumed with indignation. Her pale cheeks grew red. Looking at me, she said in a quavering voice: Dorothy, do you know this boor?