Miss Katie's Rosewood (18 page)

A
fter hiding in the woods and waiting for the wagons to leave and realizing I'd escaped, suddenly my stomach reminded me that I should have grabbed a chunk of bread before heading off to the stream and the woods
.

I was hungry!

I had successfully pulled off the first part of my plan and had gotten away from the three men and the wagons of blacks
.

Now what?

I hoped to find a farmhouse, one of those with a horse weather vane. We had passed one a few miles back before stopping last evening. If I could just find it!

I started slowly running, following as best I could the wagon tracks I could faintly see in the grass and dirt. I still had no idea where I was. The terrain was much hillier than it had been after leaving Richmond, even hillier than the place where we'd gone up the hill and they had unhooked the car from the rest of the train. There was farmland and grazing land,
but a lot of woods and forested land too. I hoped I didn't run into any bad people! I hadn't been out like this alone since the day my family had been killed and I'd wandered my way to Rosewood. I was older now and I knew that some people did bad things to young women
.

I ran and walked for half the morning, stopping for drinks of water along the way. In three days, all I'd had to eat was the stale bread they'd given us. So I was famished and exhausted within a couple of hours
.

Finally in the distance I saw smoke rising from a couple of farmhouses, so I struggled to keep going
.

At last I reached the house I remembered seeing the afternoon before. I glanced toward the roof of the barn. There was the weather vane glistening in the sun—the metal outline of a horse's head painted black. I hoped Josepha was right about these people being friendly!

What if the friendly religious people didn't still live here? That was a chance I would have to take
.

I drew in a breath and tried to gather what courage I had left. Most of my courage I'd used up escaping. By now I was too tired to feel very brave! I walked up to the front door, took another deep breath . . . and knocked. A minute later a white lady dressed in a long grey dress came to the door
.

“Yes, may I help thee?” she asked
.

“Hello,” I said. “I . . . I, uh, saw your weather vane up there,” I said, pointing to the barn. “Do you, uh . . . still help colored folks who are in trouble?”

A look of astonishment spread over the woman's face
.

“Wilber!” she called into the house. “Wilber, 'tis a
Negro girl who inquires about the wind in the horse's head.”

A man's foot sounded from inside, then the woman's husband appeared and came to the door
.

“I see,” he said, looking me over, and then glancing past me out into the yard. “Art thou alone?” he asked
.

I had never heard anyone speak like that before, but I understood what they meant. “Yes, sir,” I said. “But I am in trouble, sir. I was kidnapped with a whole train car full of other blacks two days ago. They were taking us somewhere in wagons. I saw your house when we passed yesterday and I knew about the horse weather vanes from a friend and lady who used to be a slave and who went on the slave railroad—”

“The Underground Railroad!” exclaimed the woman. “But that was years ago!”

“Yes, ma'am. I used to be a slave too. But the men who took us from the train two days ago treated us like we were still slaves. They had guns and frightened us so much that everyone did what they said. But I escaped this morning, and I remembered your house and the weather vane, and that's why I came here.”

The woman and I both looked at the woman's husband. He thought for a moment
.

“It seems, wife,” he said, “that the railroad may yet be needed again. We have heard of these abductions. What thinkest thou? Dost thou think perhaps it is time for me to pay a visit to our neighbor?”

“Perhaps the tidings of which we have heard are indeed true. Yes . . . why dost thou not visit the good man, while I see what I can find for this nice young woman to eat?—Art thou hungry, my dear?” she asked, turning again to me
.

I smiled timidly. “They didn't give us much to eat,”
I answered. “Yes . . . I am very hungry.”

“Good,” the lady said with a smile. “Then come with me while Wilber goes to our friend and they think what is to be done. Thou art safe now. But we must pray for the others.”

T
he lady scarcely had me sitting at her kitchen table and starting to set before me fresh bread and milk and strawberries and cheese, when I heard her husband galloping away outside
.

She introduced herself as Mrs. Brannon and said that she and her husband were Quakers, which I figured was why they spoke like they did. I remembered what Katie had once said about thinking her family used to be Quakers or something. She was as nice as she could be and made me feel completely at home. I almost forgot how worried I was about Katie
.

Mr. Brannon returned about two hours later. Another man was with him. They dismounted and came straight into the kitchen
.

“Wilber,” said Mrs. Brannon, “our young friend's name is Mary Ann . . . Mary Ann Daniels.”

“Hello, Mary Ann,” he said. “I am sorry I had to leave thee with such haste. But it was important that our neighbor hear what thou hast to tell us.”

He turned to the man who had come with him, a tall, almost imposing but peaceful-looking man, whose smile immediately put me at ease
.

“Hello, Miss Daniels,” he said, extending his hand. “My name is Richmond Davidson. I live just over the ridge to the east. Mr. and Mrs. Brannon and my family were involved in what was called the Underground Railroad, helping fugitive slaves get to freedom in the North. Since the war there has been no more activity of that kind . . . until recently. There have been rumors—unsubstantiated until now—of the kidnapping of unsuspecting Negroes and selling them in an illegal slave trade to the sugar plantations of the Indies. So why don't you tell us exactly what happened.”

I told them about the train and everything that had happened since, including what I'd overheard the night before, which was why I decided to escape. Even though I was with total strangers, I felt completely safe and at peace. That's the kind of men Mr. Davidson and Mr. Brannon were. I felt as secure as if I'd been with my own father
.

“You are a brave young lady,” said the man called Davidson
.

He glanced at Mr. Brannon. “We've got to get some men and go after them, Wilber,” he said. “We have to rescue those people and find out who's behind this.”

“We ought to be able to overtake them if they are pulling wagons and we are on horseback.”

“It is now about one o'clock,” said Davidson, thinking. “If they left shortly after daybreak, that means they have six or seven hours on us. But you're right, Wilber, we should be able to catch them, if not by nightfall, certainly by tomorrow.”

“I heard one of them say three days,” I said, “and something about a ship waiting.”

Davidson thought again
.

“What should I do?” I asked
.

“If you don't mind remaining here until we return,
Miss Daniels,” said Davidson, “we may need you to identify the men.”

“Couldn't I go with you, sir?” I said. “I want to help. I'm worried about the people I was with. Some of them were old, and there were a few children too.”

“You are a plucky one!” he laughed. “You remind me of my daughter-in-law. Hmm . . . now that I think about it, that might indeed be best. We need to be absolutely positive before we make any accusations, and you are the only witness we have.”

He turned toward Mr. Brannon
.

“If they're heading for the Mattaponi River, we'll have to head over the ridge and cut them off before they get to West Point.”

“We could go downriver and wait.”

“I would rather intercept them before the river. Once on the water, the risk increases. And we'll have to have more than just the two of us . . . the three of us, I mean.”

He thought to himself again
.

“I'll ride home and get a few of my men. You saddle a horse for Mary Ann.—Can you ride, Miss Daniels?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then the two of you meet me at Greenwood in a couple of hours.”