The Panther Trainer — The Night 6 Wildcats Were Released at the Ballroom, 1852 – Part 2

They sang spirituals, songs whose surface lyrics spoke of heaven, but whose deeper meanings spoke of deliverance and justice, and the faith that evil would be punished if not in this world than in the next. They sang, “Swing low, sweet chariot, and steal away to Jesus,” and wade in the water. Josiah didn’t sing.

 He stood beside the grave as three men filled it with earth. And he stared toward the big house visible in the distance, lit up for a dinner party when Nathaniel Jr. and his friends were drinking wine and eating food Ruth had prepared just hours after they murdered her child. Later that night, in their cabin, Ruth asked the question Josiah knew was coming.

Will we tell Master Blackwood what his son did? Josiah looked at her, and his eyes were different than they had been that morning. Colder, distant, like looking into a frozen river. No, he said quietly. Why not? It was wrong. It was evil. He should be punished. He won’t be punished, Ruth. We’re property.

 Naomi was property. You don’t punish a white man for damaging his own property. Then we run. We head north tonight. We follow the North Star and we No. Josiah’s voice was firm. Not yet. Then what? We just stay here? We just let them get away with murdering our baby? Josiah was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, but Ruth heard every word clearly. I’m going to kill them.

All five of them. Not tomorrow. Not in a way that looks like revenge. But I’m going to kill them. Every single one. Ruth stared at her husband. Josiah, they’ll hang you. They’ll burn you alive. Maybe. But I’m going to kill them first. How? Josiah looked toward the window, toward the dark forest beyond. I’ve been tracking panthers for 3 years now.

 Master Blackwood once stuffed for his study. There’s a female with two cubs, almost grown now, living in the caves near Jackson Creek. I’ve been studying her. I know how she hunts. I know how she thinks. He paused. I know how to train animals, Ruth. My grandfather trained dogs in Africa. The knowledge is in my blood. If I can train a dog, I can train a cat.

 That’s impossible. Panthers are wild. They can’t be trained. Dogs were wild once, too. Wolves. But someone patient enough, smart enough, can train anything that has a brain and a stomach. It’ll take time. Maybe a year, maybe two. But I can do it. Ruth shook her head. Even if you could, what then? You just send panthers to attack them? Not just attack, hunt specifically.

 I need them to target specific men. Nathaniel Jr. and his four friends. No one else. It has to be precise. That’s madness, Josiah. Maybe, but it’s the only madness that makes sense right now. He reached out and took Ruth’s hands. I can’t fight them with guns or knives. There are too many. I can’t challenge them to a fair fight because there’s no such thing as a fair fight between a slave and a master.

 But nature doesn’t care about white or black. A panther doesn’t know that Nathaniel Jr. comes from a wealthy family. A panther just knows prey. And if I can make those five men pray,” he trailed off. Ruth cried quietly. “I can’t lose you, too. You won’t. I’ll be careful. I’ll be patient. But I’m doing this, Ruth, for Naomi.

 And because if I don’t, I’ll die anyway. Not my body, my soul. I’ll die from the inside out from swallowing this rage. This way, at least I fight back.” Ruth nodded slowly. “Then I’ll help. Whatever you need. I need you to survive, Josiah said. If this goes wrong, you run. You get to the Underground Railroad.

 Sarah knows the contacts. You get north. You tell Naomi’s story. And you live free. Promise me. I promise. But you promise me something, too. You come back. You survive this. Josiah couldn’t make that promise, honestly. So he simply pulled his wife close and held her while she cried for the daughter they would never see grow up, never see married, never see, have children of her own.

 He held her and he silently swore an oath to the ancestors, to his grandfather, to Naomi’s spirit, justice would come. Not today, but it would come. The next morning, Josiah returned to work as if nothing had happened. He moved through the plantation with his usual quiet competence. He tracked game. He brought back venison.

 He spoke when spoken to and never volunteered information. The overseers noticed he seemed subdued, but attributed it to grief and considered it appropriate. Slaves who lost children weren’t expected to bounce back immediately. What they didn’t see was Josiah’s mind working constantly. He observed everything. He noted Nathaniel Jr.

‘s routines. The young man slept until noon, spent afternoons drinking with friends, attended dinner parties at neighboring plantations three nights a week, went hunting every Saturday. He noted the friends Thomas Caldwell, Robert Hampton, James Rutherford, and William Peton, all from wealthy planter families, all in their early 20s, all arrogant and cruel in the casual way of men who had never faced consequences.

Josiah cataloged their habits, their schedules, their vulnerabilities. Thomas Caldwell was a drunk who often passed out in compromising locations. Robert Hampton had a gambling problem and spent hours alone in the plantation office reviewing debts. James Rutherford fancied himself a naturalist and often walked alone in the gardens identifying birds.

 William Peon visited the slave quarters at night hunting for women to assault, thinking darkness made him invisible. Each had patterns, each had moments of vulnerability, and each would die. But first, Josiah had to build his instruments of vengeance. 3 days after Naomi’s murder, Josiah requested permission to spend extra time tracking the panther Master Blackwood wanted killed.

 He explained that the animal was elusive and would require sustained effort. Master Blackwood, pleased that his property was so dedicated, granted permission. Josiah was allowed to spend up to three nights a week in the forest, provided he continued to deliver game for the table. Josiah began his work immediately. He located the panther den near Jackson Creek, a cave system cut into limestone bluffs 5 mi from the big house.

 The female panther, he named her Nemesis in his mind after the Greek goddess of revenge that Naomi had learned about from the stolen primer, was magnificent. 8 feet long from nose to tail tip, weighing perhaps 160 lbs. Pure muscle and predatory intelligence. Her two cubs were adolescence now, nearly full grown, a male and a female.

 He named them fury and vengeance. For the first month, Josiah simply observed. He watched from concealment as Nemesis taught her cubs to hunt. He watched them take down a deer, working together with coordinated precision. He watched them play, wrestling and chasing each other with kitten-like enthusiasm. He watched them sleep, curled together in the cave entrance during daylight hours.

 He learned their patterns, their preferences, their personalities. Nemesis was cautious, intelligent, careful. Fury, the male cub, was bold and aggressive. Vengeance the female was the smartest, patient, and calculating. In the second month, Josiah began leaving food, not near the den that would frighten them, but along their hunting routes.

 Freshkilled rabbits and turkeys positioned in places they would find them. At first, they were suspicious, circling the carcasses, checking for traps, but hunger eventually overcame caution, and they ate. Josiah did this three times a week, always in different locations, but always along routes they traveled. In the third month, he began appearing near the food, staying downwind so they would see him before they smelled him.

 The first time Nemesis snarled, and the cubs fled. Josiah sat perfectly still, made no threatening moves, and eventually withdrew. The next time they watched him from a distance before approaching the food. By the 10th time, they accepted his presence as part of the ritual. The strange two-legged creature who brought food.

 Training a panther is not like training a dog. Dogs have been bred for thousands of years to respond to human commands, to seek approval, to work for praise. Panthers have no such instincts. They are pure predator driven by hunger and territory and the laws of survival. You cannot command a panther. You can only make suggestions that align with what the panther already wants.

 What Josiah needed was for the panthers to associate specific men with prey. Not all men, just five specific men. He needed to make them hunters of humans, but selective hunters. This required understanding how panthers learn. In the fourth month, Josiah brought clothing belonging to Nathaniel Jr. He had stolen it from the laundry.

 Ruth processed a shirt sweat soaked and ripe with the young man’s scent. He rubbed raw meat with the shirt, let the fabric soak in blood, then presented this to the panthers. They were interested immediately. The scent was novel. The blood was attractive. They ate the meat and investigated the fabric. Josiah repeated this process for weeks, always using clothing from the same five men, always mixed with food and blood.

 He was teaching the panthers to associate these scents with something positive, eating, classical conditioning. Though Josiah didn’t know the technical term for what he was doing, he only knew it worked. Dogs could be trained to salivate at the sound of a bell. Panthers could be trained to grow excited at certain scents.

 By the sixth month, the panthers would approach when they smelled the clothing, anticipating food. Josiah graduated to the next phase. He constructed crude dummies, bundles of straw and fabric shaped roughly like human bodies, and soaked them in the sense of the five men. He positioned these dummies in the forest and placed meat inside them.

 The panthers learned to tear open the dummies to get the food inside. Josiah watched carefully for signs of problems. If the panthers became aggressive toward him, the training was over. If they associated all humans with prey, they were useless. They would attack indiscriminately and be killed quickly. But Josiah had an advantage. He smelled different.

 He bathed with specific herbs, sage and cedar, scents foreign to the plantation, and wore clothing washed with these same herbs. He made himself distinct from other humans. The panthers learned to recognize his scent as associated with foodg giver, not food. The 8-month mark was critical. Nathaniel Jr.

 went hunting again, this time with only two companions, Robert Hampton and James Rutherford. Josiah guided them as required. He led them past the area where he had positioned a dummy soaked in their sense hidden in underbrush. He watched to see if the panthers were nearby, if they had learned to investigate these scent markers.

 They had fury, the young male stalked the dummy from downwind. He didn’t attack. It wasn’t real prey, just fabric and straw. But he investigated. He circled. His pupils dilated with interest. Josiah called him off quietly. A low whistle they had come to associate with his presence. Fury retreated. The white men never saw him, oblivious as always.

 By the 10th month, the panthers would actively search for the scentmark dummies when Josiah led them to the area. They had learned that these specific scents meant something interesting. Not quite prey yet, but something worth investigating. Josiah began the next phase. He needed the panthers to associate these scents not just with food, but with living prey.

 He captured raccoons and psums alive using traps. He rubbed them with the scented clothing, then released them where the panthers hunted. The panthers learned to track the scent, find the living animal, kill, and eat it. The scent became linked not to static dummies, but to movement, life, the thrill of the hunt. By month 12, Josiah had three panthers who would track specific human sense with interest, who had learned to associate those scents with prey animals, and who trusted him enough to take direction through whistles and hand signals he had developed over hundreds

of hours of interaction. They weren’t domesticated. They were still wild animals, but they were conditioned, pointed like weapons toward specific targets. The hardest part was teaching them to hunt as a team when commanded. Panthers are typically solitary hunters, but Josiah had raised these two cubs alongside their mother.

 They already knew how to coordinate Nemesis had taught them. Josiah simply reinforced this behavior by rewarding them only when all three participated in taking down the scentmarked practice prey. If only one attacked, no food. if all three coordinated abundant reward. By month 15, Josiah had his weapons ready. But he needed the right moment.

 He needed all five targets in one place at the same time. He needed chaos to cover the attack, and he needed an escape route for the panthers afterward so they could disappear back into the forest before being killed. He spent month 16 preparing the specific location. There were multiple options, but the grand ballroom of the big house offered advantages.

 Large windows facing the forest, multiple exit points, poor sightelines for firearms in the chaos that would follow. And it offered poetic justice, the elite celebrating their wealth and power, attacked in their most protected space by the nature they thought they controlled. Josiah learned that the annual Blackwood Christmas ball was scheduled for December 15th.

Nathaniel Jr. would attend along with all his friends. The guest list would include over 140 people from the wealthiest families in Mississippi. It would be the perfect hunting ground. By month 18, Josiah had led the panthers to the grounds of the big house multiple times at night, always using scent trails, teaching them the route from forest to building.

 He positioned scent markers at the specific windows he intended to use as entry points. He taught them to leap through when signaled. He rehearsed everything except the actual attack. Ruth watched her husband change during these two years. The man who had held Naomi, who had sung to her, who had smiled, that man was gone.

 What remained was something harder, colder, absolutely focused. He still performed his duties. He was never rebellious or suspicious. But at night, he disappeared into the forest and returned smelling of wild places with scratches on his arms that Ruth knew came from being near apex predators. Are they ready? Ruth asked in November, 6 months before the second anniversary of Naomi’s death. Almost, Josiah said.

One more month. And you? Are you ready? Josiah thought about this. I’ve been ready since June 7th, 1852. But now I’m also prepared. There’s a difference. What happens after? After I run north. I’ll send word when it’s safe. You follow. What if they catch you? They won’t. I’ll be gone before they understand what happened.

 What if the panthers kill innocents? They won’t. They’re trained to hunt specific scents. As long as those five men are present and marked, the panthers will focus on them. Ruth held her husband’s face in her hands. I don’t know if this is justice or murder or madness, but I know they killed our daughter, and you’re the only one brave enough to fight back.

 So, I’m with you. all the way. December came cold to Mississippi. Not the brutal cold of the North, but cold enough that fireplaces burned in the big house and the quarters alike. The Christmas ball was one week away. Josiah spent every night that week in the forest with the Panthers, running final rehearsals.

 He had clothing from all five targets recently stolen. He rubbed it on practice dummies. He let the Panthers smell, track, attack. They were perfect, coordinated, focused, ready. On December 14th, one day before the ball, Josiah did something he had never done in 2 years of training. He brought the panthers to the edge of the forest during twilight, close enough to see the big house clearly.

 He let them see the building, smell the smoke from its chimneys, understand that this structure, this place, was connected to the sense they had learned to hunt. Nemesis growled, a sound like distant thunder. The cub shifted restlessly. They understood tomorrow they would hunt. That night, Josiah held Ruth one last time.

 No matter what happens tomorrow, I love you. I’ve always loved you. And Naomi loved you. She knew that she died knowing she was loved. Ruth cried, “Kill them all for her. I will, I promise.” December 15th, dawned clear and cold. The grand ballroom was decorated with evergreen boughs and red ribbons. Three massive Christmas trees cut from the forest and dragged to the house by enslaved hands stood in corners decorated with imported glass ornaments.

tables groaned under the weight of food, roasted turkeys, baked hams, sweet potato pies, cakes, puddings, all prepared by Ruth and the kitchen staff over the previous week. Crystal bowls held punch. Champagne chilled in ice brought down from the north at considerable expense. The chandeliers were lit with 200 candles, bathing everything in warm, flickering light.

The orchestra composed of enslaved musicians trained from childhood to play classical European music practiced in the corner. Guests began arriving at 7:00 in the evening. Carriages lined the circular drive. Women in silk gowns, men in tailored suits. Laughter and conversation filled the ballroom. Master Blackwood greeted guests personally, pride evident in every word.

 Mistress Magnolia ensured every detail was perfect. Enslaved servants circulated with trays of drinks and horderves, invisible as furniture until needed. Nathaniel Jr. arrived fashionably late at 7:45 with his four friends. Thomas Caldwell, Robert Hampton, James Rutherford, and William Peton. They were already drunk, having started drinking at 4 in the afternoon.