Underground to Canada (8 page)

“You are the friends of Mr. Ross,” he said simply. “The good man has been put in prison in Columbus, Mississippi, and we pray no harm will come to him. I've been sent in his place.”

“Oh, Lord, help him,” Liza prayed aloud.

“Massa,” Lester interrupted, “two slave-hunters just passed by this way goin' north. We think they are from our place—the Riley plantation.”

“Then we must hide you at once and talk later.” The little man jumped to the ground. He threw back a large canvas that covered the wagon. Underneath was a thick layer of fresh straw.

“You must crawl under the straw toward the centre.” He spoke swiftly like someone familiar with his task. “Then I will cover you with the canvas. If we are stopped, remain silent. I will do the talking.” The kindly smile remained on his lips.

Julilly and Liza crawled in first and lay close together. Lester and Adam followed. It became pitch black when the little driver pulled the canvas over them.

“I can't see your face,” Liza whispered.

Julilly didn't answer. She was grateful that Liza was there. She wondered about the small man who drove the wagon. Was he one of the Quaker Abolitionists? Would the slave holders catch him too and put him in jail with Massa Ross?

“Don't talk at all,” Lester cautioned all of them.

The wagon jogged along the road. The straw was soft and sweet smelling, but Julilly's stomach ached with hunger. There had been no time that night to hunt for food. Even if the little man had bread for them, they couldn't stop now to eat it.

The rocking wagon and the soft hay tempted Julilly to sleep, but hunger kept her awake, even though her tired legs and arms felt like they were sleeping separate from the rest of her.

The clopping sound of men on horseback and a sudden jolt of the wagon unsettled the four fugitives. Lester whispered, “Don't move even if the canvas is pulled back. If they find us, jump over the side of the wagon and run for the woods. They won't shoot with their guns, they want us alive!”

Julilly and Liza locked their arms together.

A loud, harsh voice called out.

“You Quaker Abolitionist, pull your wagon over by the side of the road. We're huntin' this road for runaway slaves from the Riley plantation. We figure this is the way they'd be comin' toward the North.”

The voice didn't belong to Sims. Julilly said a grateful prayer for this. But it was someone sent by Sims and he was looking for the four of them.

“The devil with you Quakers and your wide-brimmed hats. Nigger lovers, that's what you are, the whole parcel of you.” The gruff voice came closer.

There was the scuffling sound of two horses. Julilly knew it was the two men they had seen moments before.

“What do you want of me?” the small driver of the wagon asked clearly in a strong voice.

“We want to know if you've seen four slaves— two men and two girls—along this road tonight?”

“No.” The Quaker didn't hesitate. “I haven't seen two men and two girls anyplace along this road.”

It's a lie he's tellin', Julilly thought, and then checked herself. He wasn't lying, he had seen two men and two boys running out of the woods. That's what he thought he had in his wagon. Mr. Ross was a smart man to have them dress in boys' clothes.

“I don't trust one word you stealin' Abolitionists say.” The man on the horse began talking louder. “Did you know that the new
Fugitive Slave Act
, just passed by Congress, lets the slave owners retake human property in any state—north or south.”

“I am well aware of this cruel and unjust act,” the wagon driver replied quietly.

“Unjust, you say.” Now the slave catcher was shouting. “People like you can be put in jail and fined $1,000 for just givin' a fugitive a meal.”

Julilly shuddered. How could they ever escape? They could even be hunted now in the free states of the North.

“We better see what this farmer has in his wagon.” The other horseman finally spoke. “Get down and turn back the canvas on that wagon!”

Julilly heard their driver jump from his seat to the ground.

“You can see that it's hay I carry to my cousin in the next town.” The Quaker continued to speak softly as he slowly pulled back the canvas from a corner of the wagon.

Julilly gripped Liza's arm. She didn't move, but she did open her eyes. Praise the Lord, it was still dark!

“It is hay.” The second horseman spoke quickly. “We'd better be ridin' back to the river before daylight breaks. Those niggers hide themselves in the daylight.”

They rode away without another word.

The little driver pulled the canvas back over the wagon. He leaned over it.

“When daylight breaks,” he said to the four slaves who lay tense and shaken under the hay, “we'll stop in a deserted barn along the way and have our breakfast.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

DAYLIGHT PEELED AWAY the shelter of darkness.

“This cart is a movin' trap,” Liza finally said to Julilly. The cart jogged faster, throwing them forward and backward with each bump in the road.

Now that the day had come, noises surrounded them—horses' hoofs, clattering carts, talking people. This nearness to danger pressed against the slaves. It was suffocating, like the dryness of the hay and the dryness in their throats.

“I needs a long drink of water,” Adam muttered from the far end of the wagon.

“You just forget water,” Lester hissed crossly. “Hear those dogs barkin'. The slave catchers have them sniffin' along our tracks. If we weren't above the ground, joggin' along in this old wagon, they'd be bitin' at our heels right now.”

Julilly listened. Far away there were high-pitched animal howls just as Lester said. Hunting dogs let loose on a man's scent couldn't be stopped any more than a bumble bee swarming over the sweetness of a blooming magnolia tree. Julilly knew this.

Suddenly the cart slowed its speed. It swerved abruptly onto a rougher lane which they could tell was narrow because tree branches scraped against the wagon's sides. The wheels splashed through shallow water, and then the wagon stopped.

There was need for speed because the little driver jumped from his seat and ripped the canvas from the cart.

“You must all come out of the hay at once,” he said, “and hide inside the barn here.” His voice was urgent.

Julilly stood up, brushing the hay from her hair and face. The freshness of the air and the brilliance of the sun were sudden joys she could not conceal.

“Liza, oh look!” she cried.

A swift moving stream sparkled beneath them. An old barn snuggled near by in a tangle of vines and gnarled tree limbs. It seemed to be waiting for them with an open door.

“My ol' body just won't untangle.” Liza sat twisted in the hay.

Julilly bent down and lifted her friend from the wagon. It was no effort at all. She could carry Liza! Lester wouldn't have to worry about anybody slowing them down again.

“I seem to be growin' strong as a horse,” Julilly laughed.

“I'm shrunk up poorly as a dried cricket,” Liza scowled.

They joined Lester and Adam beside the stream and the four of them drank greedily.

The little Quaker paced nervously beside them.

“You must come inside the barn.” His voice remained gentle but firm. “I must be on my way soon. If we are tracked down here there is no way I can protect you.”

They followed him inside the barn. It was sweet smelling and dry. Someone had covered the floor with new-mown hay. They had made it ready for them. There was a bundle of food near the door.

The little driver drew all of them close to him beside an open window. He placed a round glass object on the flat window-sill.

A black needle quivered inside it. He showed them how the needle always pointed north—the same as the North Star.

“I am leaving this compass with you,” he explained and he chipped it slightly with his knife a little east of north. “You must not go straight north, it is too dangerous. Follow the needle east until you come to the Cumberland Mountains near the city of Knoxville. In the mountains there are caves for shelter and Indian paths to guide you.”

The fugitives listened carefully. Julilly repeated the strange names over and over in her mind.

The little man pushed his wide-brimmed hat back from the shadows of his face. For the first time Julilly noticed his bushy grey eyebrows and deep-set kindly eyes. He talked about mountain ranges they would cross and cities they would come to. He believed they were going to get to Canada. All four of them needed this faith in their venture. They drew closer to him, more hopeful than they had been since leaving Massa Ross. The kindly man looked into the faces of each of them, as they stood quiet and expectant around him.

“I just wish I could take you right to the border of Canada.” There was unexpected fervour in his voice. “Slavery is a horrible evil.”

He pulled a round, sturdy watch from his pocket—then checked the position of the sun in the sky. He became nervous again and spoke quickly.

“The mountains will take you into Kentucky to the city of Lexington,” he said. “Here you can follow the railroad tracks by night. They lead straight north to the city of Cincinnati in Ohio to the home of
Levi Coffin
. Don't forget his name. He is the ‘president' of the Underground Railway.”

The Underground Railway? Julilly was puzzled. Had these Abolitionists built a road under the ground that led all the way to Canada? She would have to remember to ask Massa Levi Coffin about this.

“God bless each of you,” the little Quaker called as he ran to his wagon.

The four slaves watched him leave. He had given them hope and a safe place to stay. His cart of hay bumped up and down on the small, deserted road.

THE FOUR OF THEM felt almost gay as Lester opened the bundle of food. Bread, cheese, and dried venison lay before them. A ray of sun from the broken window spread over it with golden warmth. Lester gave each of them a portion and tied the remainder inside the bundle again. They walked about the barn swinging their arms and legs. For one day and one night this barn was their home. It had walls and a roof. And a blessed flow of fresh water ran before their door.

“A gift, straight from the Lord,” Liza declared.

“No hound dog is gonna sniff our scent over this rushin' water,” Adam laughed.

Adam found an old pail. He turned it over and began beating a small rhythm with a stick. Julilly caught the swing of a song in it and began to dance. Liza didn't smile, but she clapped her hands, swaying back and forth with the rhythm. Lester, sitting in a corner, was thoughtful but not displeased.

“Before the sun sets we should catch some fish,” Adam said, laying down his pail and walking to the door. Lester joined him.

“We'll go across the stream, where the trees are thick,” he said. “Nobody can see us there.”

“It would be safer if you didn't cross the stream,” Julilly called out to them. But they didn't hear. They were already splashing through the water.

Julilly watched the gold sheet of sun stretch across the barn wall. The fresh hay felt soft against her feet. She thought of washing her clothes in the flowing stream and laying them in the sheet of sun to dry.

“If you've got to wear rags”—Julilly could hear Mammy Sally's voice singing these words way back at Massa Hensen's place—“keep them clean.”

There was quiet when the men left. Julilly and Liza pushed the hay into a corner.

“We've got a bed,” they laughed together.

They found a board and propped it on some logs to make a table. They put the bundle of food carefully beneath it.

“We've got us a house fit for a fine Missy.” They sang the words together.

The rushing stream swallowed the man noises of the road. Only the clear song of a mockingbird could be heard above its rippling. Even the wind, playing through the leaves, was quiet. There was no crackle of branches to tell where Lester and Adam had gone.

It didn't seem real when the yelping noise of hound dogs entered the safety of the sun-drenched barn, shooting through the air like an arrow. Julilly cried out against it. She and Liza grabbed the bundle of food and the compass from the window ledge. They crawled into a far corner of the barn and began scratching at the hay to pull it around them.

The yelping came to the edge of the stream. There were scuffs and pounding of horses' hoofs. The mockingbird flew away, leaving the sky for a moment empty of its song. But the emptiness filled with the cries and shouts of men and of whips cracking into the playful leaves.

Julilly sobbed. Liza's sore back tightened. A cloud erased the sheet of sun.

The hound dogs splashed into the water.

They mixed lapping water with nervous yelping. Their swinging noses sniffed the scent of Adam and Lester and they bounded, screeching up the river into the
grove
of trees. They crashed through the bushes. The horses stamped behind them, and the men shouted from their saddles, their whips ripping the air.

Low cries of pain and terror rose from up the stream. Julilly and Liza stood helpless in the doorway of the barn, wringing their hands. The cries were from Lester and Adam. The dog sounds now were growls and snapping.

“They've been caught,” Liza moaned, rocking crazily back and forth.

Julilly felt dark, as if night had fallen and closed around them and they were trapped with no escape. The dogs began to whine. They had found their prey. But the shouting, men-sounds didn't stop. Nor did the moaning, pleading slave-sounds.

And, winding through them all, binding them horribly together, were the clanking sounds of chains.

Julilly wept. Tall, proud Lester in chains again; kind, simple Adam groaning beneath a cracking whip…

“Grab the food and the compass, Julilly, and get your bundle.” Liza's voice was harsh and rasping. “The sounds are gettin' closer. They is comin' to this barn.”