Race for Freedom

by Lois Walfrid Johnson

  Caleb’s gaze held steady. “I know you can lead your people to freedom. If you’d like my help, you’ve got it.” As though wanting to shake on it, Caleb offered his hand.

  Jordan stared down at Caleb’s hand, then looked up. “You really wants to help me?” he asked.

  “I really want to help you,” Caleb said.

  As if he had never before touched a white boy’s hand, Jordan hesitated. Then, seeming to make up his mind, he stretched out his own hand. Halfway between the two boys, their hands met.

  Jordan grinned. “I hope you knows what you is doing.”

  “First, we keep you safe,” Caleb promised. “Then we figure out a way to get to your family.”

  In that moment Libby felt scared right down to her toes. Something important had been decided. Something that would change Jordan’s life, but also Caleb’s and hers. Even the thought of what might happen frightened Libby.

  I wish I had their courage, she told herself again. Then she remembered the man on the Burlington street. It had been too dark to see the evil lines in his face. Yet a shiver of fear ran through Libby—a shiver so strong that she trembled.

  With all her heart, she wanted Jordan’s mother and sisters and brother to reach freedom. With all her heart, she wanted Jordan to find the father who had been sold away from the family. But Libby knew how dangerous it would be.

  One idea haunted her. How can we hide from Riggs wherever we go?

  As if knowing her thoughts, Caleb spoke. “We can be sure of one thing. Riggs will do everything he can to stop us. Wherever we are, he won’t be far behind!”

  CHAPTER 2

  More Mystery

  In spite of her fear, Libby remembered: Helping fugitive slaves was something she believed in. Before she could change her mind, Libby spoke up. “I want to help.”

  “No!” Caleb’s answer sounded like an explosion.

  Libby tossed her long hair. “I want to be a conductor on the Underground Railroad! I want to help runaway slaves reach freedom.”

  “And I said no. You’re not getting into it!”

  “You let me help the last time,” Libby pleaded. “I did what you wanted, and you know it!”

  Caleb paid no attention. “We let you help because we didn’t have any choice. Just because you did something once doesn’t mean you’ll do it again!”

  But Libby would not back down. “You think I’m a scaredy-cat, Caleb Whitney. I’m not! I’ll do what you tell me.”

  “Good.” Caleb stood up. “Right now I’m telling you to keep out of Jordan’s business and keep out of mine. Then we’ll get along just fine.” Without another word he started away.

  “Caleb?” Libby called after him, forgetting that someone might hear. “What could be worse than Pa going to jail?”

  Caleb kept going. “C’mon, Jordan,” he said.

  “You tell me, Caleb Whitney!”

  No answer came from the darkness. Already they were gone.

  I’ll show them! Libby told herself. With quick tugs she pulled off her shoes. Walking on silent cat feet, she hurried after the boys.

  In the moonlight she watched them find a pathway between the freight and passengers crowding the main deck. At the door of the engine room, Caleb looked around.

  Quickly Libby stepped back into a shadow. After a moment she peered out. Both boys were gone.

  They’re in the engine room, Libby thought, once again following without a sound. When she reached the door, she opened it quietly and stepped inside.

  Off in the corner, a lantern glowed. Libby walked toward the light. Halfway across the room, she heard something behind her.

  Stepping aside, she ducked into a hollow between machinery. For three or four minutes, she waited and saw no movement. At last she moved on again.

  Suddenly a voice leaped out of the darkness. “Looking for something?”

  Filled with terror, Libby yelped. “Caleb Whitney!”

  Libby’s heart pounded with fright. Turning around, she fled. As she passed out of the engine room, she slammed the door and raced for the stairway at the front of the boat.

  The Christina was four decks high. From the main deck, Libby flew up a flight of stairs to the boiler deck, then up another stairway to the hurricane deck. From there it was only a few more steps to the texas deck and Libby’s own room.

  Standing outside the door, she drew a deep breath. “Caleb Whitney, how could you?” she exclaimed. “Just because you’re Pa’s cabin boy! Just because Pa trusts you more than most people! How can you be so mean?”

  Libby drew a deep breath. “I will never follow you again!”

  In that moment Libby realized she was talking out loud. She also understood something else. That’s probably exactly what Caleb wants! That I don’t follow him!

  Lifting her head, Libby tossed her long hair again. I’ll show him! Caleb is not going to scare me off!

  From the darkness Libby heard a soft woof. Ignoring Samson, her big Newfoundland dog, she took the stairs to the pilothouse two at a time. Samson followed close behind.

  While a young girl, Libby had often visited this small room at the top of the steamboat. Then her mother died, and Libby had stayed with her aunt in Chicago during four long years. Only a few weeks ago, Libby had come to live with her father on the Christina.

  As she opened the door to the pilothouse, Samson squeezed his way through. The pilot stood with his back to Libby at one side of the great wheel he used to steer the boat. Because of its size, part of the wheel went down through the floor.

  Turning toward Libby, Mr. Fletcher lifted his hand in greeting. As he looked back to the river, Libby moved forward. Standing out of the way, she gazed down beyond the bow of the steamboat.

  Ahead of them the great Mississippi River spread wide on both sides of the Christina. Libby breathed deeply and let the excitement she always felt flow into her. All her feeling for the river seemed to center here in the pilothouse.

  For as long as Libby could remember, she had loved the mighty waters, the shape of trees along the shore, the islands midstream. Always she had liked to travel, to see new places and things. On the river there was always something exciting around every bend.

  Yet Libby’s fears also centered here in the pilothouse. Steamboats exploded, caught fire, struck the hidden roots of old trees, and sank within minutes. Whenever Libby heard about a steamboat accident, she felt unwilling to face the idea that something could hurt Pa. No! she told herself. Nothing will happen to him!

  In spite of that fear, Libby liked being with her father on the Christina. She had pushed her worries aside, believing that Pa could keep her safe. Having Jordan on board would bring a new kind of danger.

  Riggs will know where we are! Libby remembered again. All he has to do is find the Christina going upriver or down. And sooner or later, we’ll come into St. Louis where Riggs lives.

  Libby’s stomach tightened into an uneasy knot. When I know what Riggs might do, how can I possibly have courage?

  As though sensing Libby’s thoughts, Samson pushed close. His wagging tail thumped against her leg. Bending down, Libby ran her fingers through his coat of long, black hair. When Samson’s tongue reached out to lick her hand, Libby dropped to her knees and threw her arms around his neck.

  When Libby stood up again, she felt strangely comforted. Yet the knot in her stomach was still there.

  The next morning Libby entered the captain’s cabin at the front of the texas deck. Each weekday she and Caleb met there for their school lessons. On one side of the room was Pa’s bed. The rest of the cabin served as a sitting room and place to bring guests.

  Libby’s father sat in his large rocking chair. On the floor next to him lay a pile of newspapers. Bold letters across the top page told Libby he was reading the Daily Hawkeye & Telegraph. He must have picked up the papers in Burlington.

  “Hi, Pa,” Libby said.

  His long arm reached out, circling her waist. Yet to Libby’s surprise, Pa’s gaze never left t
he newspaper.

  “Are you reading about Lake Pepin?” she asked.

  Each spring steamboat captains waited eagerly for the ice to move out of the lake and the opening of riverboat traffic to St. Paul. That meant an exciting race between steamboats.

  Captain Norstad shook his head. Still without looking up, he said, “Just catching up on the news.”

  Standing beside him, Libby watched her father. Even sitting down, he looked tall and slender. Except for the touch of white above his ears, his black hair was as dark as his captain’s uniform. As he held up the newspaper, one of his hands trembled.

  “What is it, Pa?” Libby asked.

  When Captain Norstad put down the paper, he looked up at her. Tears stood in the dark brown eyes that were so much like Libby’s.

  Fear tightened her throat. “What’s wrong, Pa?” Not since her mother died had she seen her father so upset.

  Just then Caleb entered the room. After one look at the captain, he sat down at the table without speaking.

  Captain Norstad pushed back his chair and stood up. “How could they?” he asked. His tears were gone now, replaced by anger. “How could the Supreme Court of the United States make such a decision?”

  Pa waved a hand at the newspapers on the floor. “There are several articles about the Dred Scott decision. But look at this one!” He slid a paper across the table. “It explains how I feel.”

  Filled with curiosity, Libby looked over Caleb’s shoulder, but she didn’t understand what the articles said. “What are they talking about?” she asked finally.

  Captain Norstad explained. “Dred Scott is a slave who has lived in a free state and a free territory. Based on that, he asked for his freedom. The Supreme Court ruled that because he’s a slave, Dred Scott is not a citizen of the United States. According to them, he has never been free because he’s personal property.”

  Captain Norstad shook his head in disbelief. When he sat down again, he showed Caleb the place where he had marked each newspaper. “We need to study all of this,” he said. “A lot of people are going to be upset about this ruling. It could lead our country to war.”

  “To war?” Libby asked. War was even more frightful than her other fears. “How could America go to war?”

  Just then Libby heard a soft thump outside the cabin. As she glanced toward a window, she wondered if she saw a quick movement. If someone had been there, he was already gone.

  Maybe I imagined it, Libby thought and turned her attention back to Pa. With Libby and Caleb sitting at the large table, Captain Norstad began teaching the day’s lessons. Libby tried to keep her mind on what he said. Yet she saw when Jordan looked through the window in the upper half of the door. So did Pa.

  “Come in,” he called.

  With a captain’s uniform over one arm, Jordan walked to a closet and hung up the jacket. Instead of leaving again, he found a broom and started to sweep. Often he turned his head as though listening to what the captain said.

  Libby wondered about it. Both Jordan and Caleb worked as cabin boys. Had Jordan come in now because he wanted to know what was going on?

  “I have a number of short trips delivering freight in Iowa and Illinois,” the captain told Libby and Caleb as he gave them their assignment for the next day. “We’ll go up and down this part of the river for a few weeks before returning to St. Louis. When we get there, I want you to visit the courtroom where Dred Scott made his first try for freedom.”

  When Captain Norstad went out, Libby and Caleb stayed to study. In the midst of her reading, Libby looked up. Still holding his broom, Jordan leaned over the table, looking down at the newspaper. From there he moved on to Pa’s large map of the Mississippi River. With one finger Jordan traced the river downstream.

  Soon Libby realized that Caleb was also watching Jordan. “Want to see where we are?” Caleb asked.

  When Jordan nodded, Caleb turned the map to give him a better look. “Here’s Burlington, Iowa, where we were last night. During the night, we passed Keokuk and Fort Madison, Iowa. In a few minutes, we’ll come to Quincy on the Illinois side of the river.”

  Caleb’s finger pointed to the opposite bank. “After that we’ll stop at Hannibal, Missouri.”

  Jordan’s gaze followed Caleb’s finger as it moved on down to St. Louis. Finally Jordan grinned. “Now I wants to show you something.”

  Without another word, Caleb followed Jordan out of the cabin. When the door closed behind them, Libby leaped from her chair. Outside, the boys clattered down the stairs to the deck below. Libby waited as long as she dared, then followed them.

  Soon Caleb and Jordan disappeared on what was called the boiler deck because it was just above the boilers. Looking this way and that, Libby tried to catch sight of the boys. I’ve lost them! she thought frantically.

  Not knowing what else to do, she hurried toward the bow and down the steps to the main deck. There Libby caught sight of Caleb rounding a corner.

  They’re headed for the engine room again! Libby hurried after them. What’s going on there?

  Unwilling to be caught a second time, she passed into the cargo area at the center of the boat. From there, she entered the engine room by a different door.

  Ahead of Libby lay one of the large boilers that heated water and created steam to run the Christina. Yet Libby saw only the men who usually worked there. Strange, she thought. I was only a minute behind Caleb and Jordan.

  Wasting no time, Libby walked through the engine room to the other door. When she found it tightly closed, she felt confused. The room was noisy, yet she had heard no opening or closing of doors. I’m sure that Caleb and Jordan came in here. Where did they go?

  Puzzled, Libby tried to think it through. How did they manage to hide from me?

  CHAPTER 3

  Search Warrant!

  In the days that followed, Libby trailed the boys more than once. Each time they disappeared somewhere near the engine room. When that happened, it made Libby even more curious. What’s their big secret? Why won’t they let me in on it?

  Finally Libby asked Caleb, “Are you still watching for Riggs?”

  “Yup,” he answered. “Aren’t you?”

  Libby nodded. “I’m starting to wonder if I’ll recognize him.”

  “You will,” Caleb told her. “Remember the deep lines from his nose to the outer corners of his lips? It’s like he does nothing but frown.”

  Libby remembered all right, though she wanted to push aside all thought of Riggs. She wanted to forget the danger to Jordan and Pa, but Caleb’s words stayed with her: “We can be sure of one thing. Wherever we are, Riggs won’t be far behind!”

  Then one April morning, Libby woke to the crowing of a rooster. In her room high on the texas deck, Libby lay in bed, listening to the sounds of a great city.

  During the night the Christina had come into St. Louis. On the cobblestone levee, wagons rumbled and horses clip-clopped. Farther away, blacksmiths pounded their hammers.

  Libby slipped out of bed and poured water into a basin. Quickly she splashed her face and dressed.

  Libby’s room was seven or eight feet wide and six feet long. It had two doors, one on either side of the boat. A window filled the upper half of each door. To give privacy, shutters closed over the windows.

  Opening the shutter on one side, Libby looked across the mighty Mississippi River. Just then the great orange sun edged up over the horizon. When it grew too bright to watch, Libby turned to the opposite door. From there she looked toward the city of St. Louis. Tall, new buildings stood in a proud row near the levee. The rising sun caught the stones and brick, turning the buildings pink.

  The city drew Libby. She wished the Christina could stay in St. Louis for a long time. She wanted to see all that was going on in this important gateway to the West.

  Already workers filled the levee. Up and down the gangplanks they scurried like ants bringing food to a nest. Wherever Libby looked, barrels and crates waited to be loaded onto a steamboat.
<
br />   When Libby heard the bawling of oxen, she wondered about the trail that drew countless pioneers westward. Then all other thoughts flew out of Libby’s head. Striding across the levee was a short, slender man.

  Libby stared at him. Well dressed, she thought. Expensive-looking suit in the latest style. A fashionable cane with gold on the handle. From the way the man marched straight toward the Christina, he didn’t need the cane for walking.

  Six or seven other men followed behind the first. With each bold step they took, Libby’s dread grew. When the first man was close enough for her to see the evil lines in his face, she felt certain. It was Riggs!

  Forgetting her shoes, Libby hurried out on the texas deck. Only a few steps below lay the hurricane deck. From there Libby looked down. A clerk stood next to the Christina’s gangplank. When Riggs handed him a piece of paper, the clerk read it carefully.

  “Hurry up, hurry up!” Riggs complained. Even from here Libby heard the impatience in his voice.

  But the clerk took his time. Finally he nodded. Turning, he called to someone on main deck. “Get Captain Norstad!”

  Libby’s heart turned over. Taking the stairs back up to the texas deck in one leap, she raced to her father’s cabin. There she pounded on the door.

  Seconds later Pa flung it open. “Libby!” Even his eyes looked concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Riggs is here!” she exclaimed as her father drew her inside his cabin. “He’s got a paper—a search warrant, I think.”

  “Probably so.” Captain Norstad’s voice was calm, as if he had expected this.

  “But Pa, they’re coming for you! They’ll search the Christina.”

  Still her father showed no surprise. “Yes, that’s what they’ll do.”

  “They’ll ask you questions.” Libby’s words tumbled out.

  “Go and warn Caleb,” Pa said.

  “But the men are coming for you!”

  A shadow passed through her father’s eyes. “Libby, find Caleb. Then stay away from the men. Don’t let them see your face.”

  Tears rose in Libby’s eyes. “Pa, I’m scared. What if something happens to you?”