Race for Freedom

by Lois Walfrid Johnson

  Not one second later, Hutton hurried down the stairs. To avoid his questions, Libby quickly walked away. I can’t go to Pa now. Hutton would know what I’m doing.

  Trying to pretend that nothing was wrong, Libby slipped into the crowd at the bow. As the Christina steamed upriver, the War Eagle slipped into place beside her.

  A few minutes later Caleb joined Libby. Facing forward with his back to the passengers, he spoke in a low voice. “Did you see what happened?”

  “Worse.” Libby also looked straight ahead. “Hutton was after Jordan.”

  “So they all came back! They probably thought their best bet was to keep an eye on the Christina. They were right.”

  Caleb sounded as though he were talking about the weather. But Libby knew better. He, too, was deeply concerned.

  “And they stayed out of our way till now,” Libby said. “They must have thought this was a good time to capture Jordan.” Libby told Caleb what had happened to Jordan.

  “He’s on the War Eagle?” Caleb spoke just as quietly.

  “I saw him make the leap. I think he’s somewhere between those piles of freight.”

  “And Hutton?” Caleb asked. “What happened to him?”

  “I don’t think he knows where Jordan went,” Libby said. “What will Jordan do?”

  “Pretend he’s a deckhand.”

  ”And work as though he belongs on the War Eagle?”

  “That’s what I’d do.”

  “Caleb, do you always think about what you’d do? Do you always plan ahead?”

  Caleb grinned. “With you on board, I might have to stop trying. And we still don’t know if Riggs is here.”

  As the Christina reached Lake Pepin, Libby tried to see everything. Sure enough, there was a narrow channel of black water.

  Three other paddle-wheelers were ahead of them. As they steamed farther into the lake, Libby saw giant blocks of shifting, crumbling ice. When the lane they had entered seemed to widen, she felt relieved.

  Soon the War Eagle passed the Hamburg and the Sam Young. As the Christina kept up with the War Eagle, the other boats fell behind.

  Turning, Libby watched the steamboats that followed them. From their time of waiting at Reads Landing, she recognized many of them. The Golden State was coming up fast. When she passed the Christina, Libby moaned. “Two ahead of us now.”

  “Just wait,” Caleb told her. “It’s a long race yet.”

  As Libby and Caleb watched, the Golden State kept gaining on the War Eagle. Libby tried to remember Caleb’s words, but she found it hard.

  Then a large cake of ice floated by, close to the Christina’s wooden hull. Seeing the ice, Libby felt uneasy. Around them the wind and current pushed against the thick, jagged blocks.

  Soon shifting ice started to fill the narrow lane of black water. Huge chunks bumped against the Christina, jolting the boat. Libby felt glad that Elsa no longer made her bed close to the edge of the deck.

  As the sound of bumping ice grew stronger, Libby’s uneasiness grew. When she faced into the wind, she felt sure it had picked up.

  “I don’t like it,” Caleb said.

  Libby knew the great chunks of ice could break a hole in the Christina’s hull. Is that why there aren’t any runaway slaves in the hiding place? Libby didn’t know if the Christina brought fugitives this far north. Yet the first run to St. Paul would be extra dangerous for anyone down in the hull.

  Looking back again, Libby saw more boats in their wake. The Galena, the Falls City, and half a dozen others.

  “C’mon,” Caleb said as the wind grew stronger. “We better go up to your pa’s cabin.”

  From there they watched the ice start to layer. One huge block slid on top of another. Frightened now, Libby watched the ice build up. Small peaks appeared here and there across the wide lake.

  Suddenly a gust of wind caught the drifting ice. Close behind the Christina, the ice slammed into the Falls City, forcing the steamboat up on shore. Her hull crushed like an eggshell, the Falls City keeled on one side.

  Libby gasped in terror. “What happened to the people?”

  “They’ll be all right,” Caleb said. “Part of the boat is on land. But the boat looks like a total wreck.”

  As they watched, passengers scrambled up a stairway. Within minutes the main deck of the Falls City disappeared under water. On the tilting upper decks, people clung to whatever would hold them until someone on land rescued them.

  With ice shifting all around her, the Christina poured on even more steam, making a run for it. Through the long hours of the passage through Lake Pepin, Libby stood in Pa’s cabin with Caleb and Samson beside her.

  Ahead of them, the Golden State and the War Eagle stayed only a short distance apart. Once Libby felt sure she saw Jordan working on the War Eagle’s deck.

  At Wacouta, the head of Lake Pepin, the Christina finally steamed into safer waters. Libby felt weak with relief to see the last of the ice.

  By now the Golden State had fallen back, but Captain Laughton’s boat, the Galena, had crept up. Though the War Eagle stayed in the lead, the Galena was closing in.

  “We’re getting close to Red Wing,” Caleb told Libby shortly after dark. Together they walked back to stand outside her room.

  Doctor Sweney had allowed no one but Mrs. Meyer to see Elsa. Now Libby felt unwilling to have her friend leave without saying goodbye. But Doctor Sweney expected Libby and Caleb to stand at a safe distance.

  As Libby watched, the doctor stretched a blanket between two poles to make a stretcher. When Elsa was safely settled, two deckhands picked up the stretcher.

  “Goodbye, Elsa,” Caleb called as the men headed for the stairs.

  Elsa raised a hand. “’Bye, Caleb.” Her pale face seemed the color of her white-blond hair.

  Libby wanted to rush forward to hug her. To tell her, “Be sure and get well.” Instead she called out, “Auf wiedersehen!”

  At the sound of her voice, Elsa tried to lift her head. The shadow of a smile crossed her face. “Auf wiedersehen, Libby,” she said softly. “I love you.”

  Tears welled up in Libby’s eyes. “I love you, my friend!”

  Doctor Sweney went first, walking ahead of the stretcher down the steps, then turning to make sure Elsa was safe. Moving as if she were glass, the deckhands carried her from the texas and hurricane decks to the boiler, then the main deck. Elsa’s mother followed close behind. Keeping their distance, Libby and Caleb followed her.

  As the Christina nosed into the Red Wing waterfront, Doctor Sweney gave his orders. When the gangplank went out, he turned to Libby and Caleb.

  “Elsa will get well,” he said, as though wanting to give them hope.

  A moment later he and Mrs. Meyer, Elsa, and their few belongings were gone.

  With lightning speed the deckhands unloaded everything else bound for Red Wing. Again the Christina put out, once more racing to St. Paul.

  Above Red Wing, a full moon rose over the water. Standing at the bow on the main deck, Libby watched the golden pathway across the river. Samson stood beside her, his great tail thumping against her.

  Ahead of them, the War Eagle and the Galena were neck and neck. Around the Christina were a dozen other boats. Osborne, the chief engineer, poured on steam. One by one, the other boats fell away, and the distance between the Christina and the lead boats grew less.

  “We’re catching up!” Libby told Caleb as he came to stand beside her.

  As though she could push the Christina ahead, Libby leaned into the wind. If only they could overtake the War Eagle and the Galena. If only Pa could win first place. Just the honor would bring him even more business!

  Then, as Libby wished, it seemed to happen. Instead of a great leap forward, the Christina crept gradually ahead. Inch by inch, she moved up on the War Eagle’s starboard side. As the bow of the Christina came even with the stern of the War Eagle, moonlight fell on the small deck in back of the cargo space.

  Libby grabbed Caleb’s arm. “The
re’s Jordan on the deck!”

  “He’s awfully close to the edge,” Caleb answered. “If the boat jerks, he’s in trouble.”

  Standing on tiptoes, Libby tried to see. “He and a deckhand are tying a rope.”

  A loud cry cut off Libby’s words. “I see him!”

  Libby looked up. On the boiler deck above them, Hutton stood at the railing. His angry voice shouted across the water. “I see you, boy! I’ll catch you yet!”

  Startled, Jordan looked toward Hutton. As the War Eagle took a burst of speed, Jordan lost his balance. His arms beat the air. Then he tumbled into the water.

  Fear clutched Libby’s heart. “Jordan can’t swim!”

  “Man overboard!” came the cry from the War Eagle.

  “Man overboard!” Caleb called out.

  On both boats warning bells jangled. Paddle wheels stopped.

  Libby groaned. “After all that’s happened, what if Jordan drowns? What about his family?”

  Caleb shook his head. His lips moved as if he were praying, but Libby heard no sound.

  “Can he ever remember what you taught him?”

  Caleb looked grim. “It seems impossible. But Jordan thinks fast in an emergency.”

  Seconds later, his head appeared in the water. On the War Eagle, deckhands raced to drop their yawl. Soon the small boat headed toward Jordan.

  “They’ll never make it!” Caleb’s voice was filled with dread. “They’re too far away from him!”

  But the bow of the Christina was closer. In that moment Libby remembered her dog. Newfoundlands. Bred for rescuing men at sea.

  “Samson!” Libby commanded. She pointed toward Jordan. “Get him!”

  In the next instant, the dog jumped up on a crate. His front paws together, he leaped into the river. As water splashed around him, all but Samson’s head and shoulders disappeared. A dark shape against the moonlit water, the dog swam straight for Jordan.

  Straining forward, Libby kept her gaze on Jordan’s head. Suddenly she lost sight of him.

  “Where is he?” she cried. “I can’t see Jordan!”

  Still paddling a straight line, Samson kept on. Moments later Jordan surfaced. In spite of the icy water, he tipped back his head. Just barely, Libby saw his neck and shoulders.

  “He remembers!” she cried. “Jordan remembers what you taught him!”

  With strong, sure strokes of the oars, the War Eagle deckhands raced toward Jordan. Minute by minute, the distance between them narrowed, but Samson was still closer to Jordan.

  As time seemed to stand still, his head bobbed up and down. Just before Samson reached him, Jordan slipped beneath the surface again.

  Caleb groaned. Then Samson disappeared.

  “Where are they?” Libby cried out.

  Then she spotted Samson. Grasping Jordan’s upper arm and shoulder in his mouth, the dog lifted Jordan’s head above water.

  Jordan’s arms thrashed as he fought against Samson. As the dog hung on, Jordan seemed to realize he was trying to help. Suddenly Jordan stopped struggling.

  When he clutched the dog’s tail, Samson turned toward the Christina. The yawl turned with them. Staying close by, the deckhands from the War Eagle followed, making sure Jordan was safe.

  As Samson brought Jordan alongside the Christina, Libby and Caleb rushed over. Reaching out, Caleb and a deckhand grabbed hold of Jordan. More deckhands helped Samson on board. Then a great cheer went up.

  A quick whistle from the Christina told the War Eagle that all was well. Moments later the Christina’s paddle wheels and engines started. As Caleb drew Jordan into the furnace room to change and warm up, the Christina again poured on steam.

  Just then Libby remembered Hutton. Looking up, she saw that he still stood at the railing on the boiler deck. When the moon lit his face, Libby felt sure she knew his angry thoughts.

  He knows he can’t take Jordan now. Not with all these people who wanted him rescued.

  But there was one thing Libby knew. Hutton will wait for a better time.

  CHAPTER 21

  The Winner!

  Next to the stove used by the deckers, Libby rubbed Samson with towels. “Good dog!” she told him again and again. Someone had passed the word to Granny, for she brought a special bone.

  When Libby once more went out on the main deck, she found Caleb. As if having no more than the usual interest in Jordan, he stood at the bow. But Caleb’s eyes were watchful, as though always looking for Riggs. Now and then his gaze flipped up to where Hutton stood.

  As they drew close to St. Paul, Libby stood beside Caleb. The full moon still lit a pathway across the water. Though nearly two o’clock in the morning, the decks were full of people watching to see who won the race.

  Just then a man crowded close—too close. His cane bumped Libby’s bruised leg. Looking down, she saw that the cane had a handle with a gold head. In the seconds it took to look up, Libby’s heart pounded.

  The short, slender man next to her wore an expensive-looking coat. His beaver hat protected him against the damp night air. When he turned toward Libby, she saw his blue eyes. Instead of being cold and mean, they looked kind.

  Then Libby saw the man’s mouth. Above his upper lip the skin was red, as though still healing from the glue that held a mustache. But there were no evil lines between his nose and the outer corners of his lips.

  As Libby nudged Caleb with her elbow, the man tipped his hat. “Excuse me, Miss,” he said. “I’m sorry about my cane. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

  Libby smiled. “You didn’t hurt me at all,” she said. It’s not Riggs! she thought.

  When Libby turned back to Caleb, she saw that he was listening. Without speaking, they waited until the man walked away. “We spent so much time looking for Riggs, we didn’t catch on to Hutton,” Libby said with regret.

  Caleb grinned. “But you’re learning fast, Libby.”

  “Fast enough to—” Libby stopped, afraid to speak the words aloud with so many people close by. To help with the Underground Railroad, she thought.

  But Caleb understood. “Maybe,” he said.

  It still bothered Libby. “Do you trust me, Caleb?”

  For a moment he thought about it. “I think so.”

  “Don’t I have enough courage?”

  This time Caleb answered at once. “You have more than enough courage, Libby. And you get it from the right Person.”

  Deep inside, Libby felt grateful. Yet she still needed to understand. “So why don’t you want me to—”

  Libby paused. Again she needed to be careful. To be a part of the Underground Railroad. Aloud she said, “Why are you afraid to let me try?”

  In the moonlight Caleb’s blue eyes were darker than usual. Now they were serious instead of filled with fun. As his gaze met Libby’s, he spoke softly. “I’m afraid that something will happen to you.”

  “That’s all?” Libby asked.

  “Well, isn’t that enough?”

  “Nothing will happen to me!” As her spirit soared, Libby tossed her head, and her auburn hair swung about her shoulders. “Unless a bear wants my sandwich. Or an ice dam gives way.”

  Caleb grinned. “Or you go snooping around a boat in the middle of the night.” He lowered his voice still more. “We’re ready now,” he whispered. “When we go back down the river, Jordan knows exactly how he can help his family escape. His plan sounds as safe as something like that can be. And he’s figured out what you and I can do.”

  “I can help?” Libby asked, startled.

  Before Caleb could answer, Jordan came up behind him. In dry clothes again, he wore a sweater and Caleb’s warmest jacket. When Jordan tried to talk, his teeth chattered, but Libby understood what he was saying. “If you hadn’t sent that dog of yours, I’d be hearin’ them angels sing!”

  In spite of what had happened, Jordan’s eyes glowed, as if knowing a miracle had taken place. “Libby, I ain’t able to thank you enough.”

  “You don’t have to say a word,” she ans
wered. “Don’t forget what you did for me!”

  Libby remembered Caleb’s words after her near drowning. Now it was her turn to say them. “I’m mighty glad you’re still with us, Jordan.”

  “Me too.” In the midst of his shivers Jordan grinned. “I can’t be a Moses for my people till I knows how to cross the water.”

  Just then, from farther upstream, they heard the tooting of whistles. Church bells rang, and a cannon sounded.

  “It’s the welcome in St. Paul,” Caleb said.

  “A cannon at two o’clock in the morning?” Libby asked. Looking up, she saw that Pa had joined them. “Did the Galena win?”

  “From here it looks that way. The War Eagle can’t be more than fifteen minutes behind. Captain Kingman will be second.”

  Libby felt disappointed for Pa. “What fun it would have been to be first. I wish you could have won.”

  “No wasted wishes,” Pa told her. He looked toward Jordan. “A person’s life is worth more than a free wharf for the season. The War Eagle’s captain knows that. So do I.”

  Pa’s honest eyes told Libby that he meant every word. Turning to Caleb, Captain Norstad lowered his voice. “You know what to do,” he warned. “Even in Minnesota Territory—”

  Libby’s thoughts finished the sentence. Even here, Hutton has the lawful right to capture Jordan. To bring him back into slavery.

  Caleb nodded. “As soon as we reach St. Paul, sir.”

  “Jordan?” Pa asked.

  “I’ll stick with Caleb like fleas on a dog’s back.”

  When Pa slipped away, he shook hands with passengers, one here, another there. Then he moved close to where the gangplank would go down.

  As the Christina put into St. Paul, passengers pushed toward her bow. In the crowd on the boat, Libby saw Hutton trying to reach Jordan. Yet when the Christina reached the landing, Caleb and Jordan were ready. While Pa talked to passengers, using them to block Hutton’s way, the two boys hurried down the gangplank.