Chasing the North Star (6 page)

Jonah saw he had the advantage of a rabbit or a fox in deep cover. The vines and briars and brush would keep out the horse and rider while he could hurry through. Without dogs the man could only follow him by sight. But Jonah's advantage would only last a few minutes, because the man would find a place to cross the branch and come riding after him into the woods. Beyond the vines and brush along the stream, Jonah saw only pine woods, with little undergrowth or scrub to hide him. He could run fast through the woods, but so could the horse and rider. He'd have to think quick. One thought was to wait until the horseman was in the woods, then plunge back across the branch, but that would gain him only a minute or two.

Looking around for the biggest pine tree, Jonah spotted a giant about a hundred feet away. The tree was so big and old, its bark looked more like masonry than something alive. The limbs near the ground had broken away, but about five feet up the stubs of limbs stuck out from the trunk, and a few feet above that living limbs reached out like spokes from a hub. Jonah jumped and grabbed the lowest limb. It broke and he fell into the pine straw. But he pushed himself up and grabbed for the next limb. Bracing with his feet on the bark, he reached the next stub and pulled himself onto the first living branch. Climbing a tree was just what Elmer had warned him not to do, but there was really no choice. The pine was smeared with drops and scabs of resin, and already his hands were sticky. Hoofbeats came closer and the horse and rider trotted into sight just as he slipped into the higher limbs.

The horseman passed by beneath him and Jonah climbed higher still. He was about halfway up the big tree when the man on the horse came back, searching behind every tree. Jonah stood very still on a big limb. If a twig broke, if a piece of bark or resin fell, he was lost. The man would simply wait until he had to come down. If he made a noise or moved, the man might spot him.

“I will catch you!” the man called out. Jonah couldn't see him so he wasn't sure in what direction the storekeeper was shouting. “We don't take kindly to thieves around here,” the man added.

Jonah stood still while the tree sighed and stirred around him. The smell of the resin was fresh, but there was a kind of dust or mold on the white pine that made him want to sneeze. He put a sticky finger under his nose, and tears smarted his eyes.

“You might as well give up,” the man hollered. “I can go back for dogs and track you down.”

The bark of the tree close to his face looked more like the hide of some animal than a part of a tree. It was shiny and gray, with a tint of green. It looked like some kind of leather, but resin oozed through cracks, clear as honey.

“If I have to go get dogs to find you, I'll put you in chains,” the man yelled. “Then I'll whip your black arse and turn you over to your owner.”

Jonah hugged the tree like it was his mama. He was fifty feet in the air and safe for the moment. But he'd not be safe if the man brought dogs. They would smell him on the ground beneath the tree, and they'd follow him wherever he ran. But the next time the man called, he was farther away, and that suggested he didn't know which tree Jonah had climbed, though he seemed to have guessed that Jonah had climbed some tree. He was riding around the woods looking for Jonah up trees and behind trees and bushes.

Jonah waited until the man was out of hearing and slowly climbed higher in the pine. As he got near the top, the breeze picked up and limbs swayed back and forth. The air was fresher up there. When he got close to the very top, Jonah could see over the other trees. He could view the tower of the church and a tall white mansion to the left of the church hill. Turning to the north, he saw a wide, flat valley with a chain of mountains beyond, almost white in the haze. To the northeast there was a big mountain that was almost black. Reaching up above all the peaks around it, that summit seemed as ominous as an enormous, brooding bear.

From near the top of the giant pine, Jonah could see the wagon road he'd followed from the church hill. A horse with a rider trotted along the track. Jonah was pretty sure it was the man who had chased him. He hugged closer to the top of the tree, hoping he couldn't be seen at such a distance. In the breeze the top swayed back and forth, leaning far out and returning, rocking and returning. He thought that must be the way it felt to ride a big horse, swaying and returning, rising and falling.

If he had a horse he could travel three times as fast as he could on foot. With a horse Jonah could reach the North before summer was over. He'd have a chance to outrun posses and sheriffs and bounty hunters. But even as he daydreamed about stealing a horse, Jonah knew such a plan was impossible. If he stole a horse he'd be pursued as a horse thief and hanged. Added to that, the sight of a Negro on a horse traveling long distances would bring attention he didn't need.

But while he was daydreaming high in the pine, Jonah saw another picture in his mind. It was an impossible picture, but so pretty he couldn't help but study on it. If he had a good horse and a fine closed carriage, he could be the driver and act like he was carrying some important white person to Richmond or Washington. If he had the right clothes, everybody would assume he was the driver for a rich man. Who would look inside the closed carriage to see who the passenger was?

The idea was so attractive, Jonah kept running it through his mind. Of course he didn't have any such horse and carriage, and he didn't have any fine clothes, but if he did he might be able to pull it off, drive all the way to the North on the widest and best roads, and nobody would ever stop him. It was something to study on.

Another thought came to Jonah because of the tablet he carried inside his shirt. He wondered if it might be possible to write out a certificate saying he'd been freed by his owner. If he knew how such a document looked, he might be able to make one that would convince any sheriff or bounty hunter who stopped him. Of course he'd have to know what kind of paper to use, and what kind of pen and ink, and he'd have to know the words to write on such a document. If he had the right kind of papers, he could go anywhere without fear.

J
ONAH STARTLED HIMSELF FROM
his daydream and began climbing down. He had to run before the man returned with dogs and more men on horses. He descended from limb to limb, and it seemed that with each step he lost more confidence. The limbs trembled with his weight, and his arms trembled as he grasped at the branches. Resin made his hands stick on the wood, pulling his skin like glue. As he dropped into the shadows of the deep woods, he wondered why he'd ever thought he could escape from Mr. Williams and from slavery. He was a thousand miles from Canada and at least five hundred from Pennsylvania. He didn't have a map, and he didn't have any transportation except his own bare feet. He only had money enough to last for a few weeks at most, and every time he stole something he might give away his whereabouts. The man at the store in Flat Rock had spotted him because of the poster, and because of the direction he'd taken. It was only a matter of time before somebody caught him and sent him back to Mr. Williams. Why had he thought he was smart enough to run away? Why had he thought he could be lucky enough to make his way all the way to the North? By the time Jonah reached the ground, he was overwhelmed by his own foolishness and doubts. It was because he'd learned to read and Mrs. Williams had encouraged him to read that he had such a high opinion of himself. If he was as ignorant as the rest of the folks at the Williams Place, he would never have thought of escaping.

All is vanity and vexation of spirit, and grasping for the wind, the Bible said, and now he could see clearly what the preacher in Ecclesiastes meant. Instead of humbling himself and accepting the facts, Jonah had let pride lead him into deeper trouble. It was his silly pride that tempted him to run away, and now he would be shot or beaten to death. There was pine resin on his shirt and pants, and more resin on his face and on his hands. He had to remember what would wash it away. Soap wouldn't melt the gum, and neither would hot water. He could scrub his fingers with sand, but that would only make the skin raw. Turpentine might melt the resin, but turpentine would burn his skin. Jonah recalled Mr. Williams rubbing his hands with something after they'd cut and trimmed a pine tree. It was an oil of some kind, mineral oil or olive oil. Or machine oil or whale oil for the lamps. Maybe even lard would dissolve the stiff, tight resin.

He had maybe an hour before dark, and Jonah couldn't wait any longer. Men with dogs might already be on their way to comb the woods. Perhaps they were already waiting for him to come out of the pine woods. Maybe they thought he would run over the next hill, and stood waiting for him there. He moved through the pine woods quickly, but when he reached a thicket with brush and briars he had to find a way around it, and he searched for a path or road. Vines and briars would slow him down too much. Once it got dark he should get on a road and walk as fast as he could. Jonah stumbled about a mile through brush before he came to a little road. He hid in the brush until it was almost dark, and then turned left and followed the road. He figured the sand and gravel in the tracks would soon wear away the resin on the bottom of his feet, but sand stuck to the resin and made his feet sore and his steps uneven.

He passed a house near the road, and a dog ran out from the woodshed and barked. Jonah held out his hand and whistled a little. Holding out your hand was a friendly gesture, and it usually made a dog stop barking or growling. He knew the worst thing you could do was cause a dog to think you were afraid or angry. Jonah held out his right hand and the dog quieted. In the twilight he could see the animal wag its tail. After a few moments Jonah continued on his way.

The breeze that comes at the end of a summer day cooled Jonah's face and blew under his shirt, making it easier to walk. He might be able to get to the far chain of mountains before morning. It was a wide valley, and he needed to get across it. Once he reached the mountain chain he'd be far from South Carolina and closer to the North.

Twilight was a peculiar time of day, a time when you could both see and not see. The world looked real and not real at the same time. In twilight everything appeared far away, but you felt it was close enough to touch. There was a comfort in twilight, as if you were safe and maybe hidden from danger.

Jonah tried to choose a stride that he could keep up for hours. He needed a pace that would take him mile after mile. It was no good to wear himself out too fast. It was long hours of steady walking that would carry him to the North. He felt he'd found his gait when he heard the dog barking again far behind him. The dog's bark could mean something was following him a long way back, for he'd gone at least a mile since passing the cabin. Jonah looked back and saw a light. He hurried forward and then looked back again. This time there appeared to be several lights, as if a group of men with torches was following him. Men carrying lanterns and torches could be foxhunters or coon hunters, but more likely they were hunting him. If they were on horses they could catch up with him quickly. If they had a pack of dogs they could follow him wherever he went.

If he stayed on the road they'd soon overtake him. If he ran into the woods the dogs might well find his tracks and lead the men right to him. What he needed was a stream. If he could discover a creek and wade in it for a few hundred yards, he might throw the dogs off for half an hour. Maybe he could double back and throw the posse off his tracks even longer.

Jonah looked back and saw the torches were getting closer, and he began to run. There may have been copperheads crawling in the tracks, but if there were, Jonah leapt over them.
One two three four
, he said to himself, keeping time with his running.
One two three four. Run out the kitchen door. Five six seven eight. J
ump over the pasture gate
. As the road dipped into a little hollow, Jonah looked for a creek, but what he saw was a bridge, a plank bridge across a creek wider than any he'd yet seen in the mountains. His first thought was that if he got under the bridge maybe the posse would go right over him. And once they'd gone he'd double back the way he'd come.

But if they had dogs, the dogs would trace him to the bridge and sniff under the bridge and find him. Jonah would have to get in the creek and wade as far as he could, and then climb out and head through the woods. The creek appeared to wind between fields and rows of trees. The stream ran to the east, not to the north. Climbing down the bank through vines and brush, Jonah saw something at the edge of the water. In the gathering darkness it at first it appeared to be a little shelter, like a chicken coop or dog house. Then he thought it was a trough or box, the kind milk and butter are placed in to keep them cool. But when he touched the object, he found it was a little boat made of boards, with a paddle and one seat and a fishing line on the floor. Paddling the boat down the creek might be his best chance to get away. The posse would follow his tracks to the creek and not know in which direction he'd gone.

He tugged at the boat, but it was fixed to something. He lit a precious match to see what was holding the craft and found a rope from a ring on the prow tied to a sapling. He untied the rope and pushed the boat into the current and jumped in. Taking up the paddle, he pushed himself out into midstream. The water was so shallow, he could use the paddle to push against the bottom, pointing the little boat downstream.

In the dark he banged against a rock, and turned aside around it. He then hit a log or snag, and had to turn again. Without a light he couldn't avoid hitting objects. He pushed on and discovered he could see rippling water if he looked out of the corner of his eyes. Water rippled on a rock or snag or sandbar, so he tried to avoid ripples. Jonah found that if he paused and listened he could also hear the ripples. He paddled quietly, and then listened.

When he'd gone a ways down the stream he looked back and saw a cluster of lights milling around. The posse must have reached the bridge. They'd be looking for him along the banks of the creek. If he'd stayed under the bridge, he would have been tied up by now. He paddled as quietly as he could, going slow enough so that when he hit a rock it didn't make much of a thunk. The front of the little boat ground in the sand, and he pulled it back and turned aside and started again. The murmur of the water told him where a rock was, if he listened closely enough. Jonah had never used his ears in such a way before. He listened and paddled. Once he hit the side of the boat with the paddle and it sounded like he'd thumped a wooden drum. He stopped paddling and looked behind him, but the men with torches must have been making so much noise they didn't hear the knock.