Rescue on the River

by Marianne Hering

  Beth joined them. Her shoulders drooped, and she looked tired.

  “I see we have new recruits,” Harriet said from behind him.

  Beth smiled. “When did you get here?” she asked.

  “I just made it on,” Harriet said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Patrick felt the ship move as the engines came on. The large wheel churned against the water. “Miss what?” he asked.

  Harriet said, “Tonight we’re going on a raid. We’re going to bring as many slaves as we can to freedom.”

  Waiting for Trouble

  Beth worried about what might happen on a raid. Her stomach felt knotted. She listened to the slow chugging of the Sentinel. The sound comforted her.

  Beth strained to see ahead. But the river was covered with darkness.

  Walter held a lantern. Its glow was barely stronger than a jack-o’-lantern’s.

  “The stars are nice,” Beth said. “But I wish there was a moon out tonight.”

  “Thank the Lord there isn’t,” Harriet said. “We waited for a night like this. We don’t want anyone to see us.”

  “How will the captain know where we’re going?” Beth asked.

  Walter laughed. He said, “The pilots are guiding these ships, not the white captains. They have traveled these rivers for years. They know where the torpedoes are hidden.”

  “Torpedoes?” Patrick asked. His eyes grew large.

  “I doubt there are any on this river. But if there are,” Walter said, “our pilots will know about them.”

  “We won’t reach our first stop until dawn,” Harriet said. “That’s on the Combahee River. It’s about twenty-five miles from here.”

  Walter added, “Our targets are the rice plantations along the Combahee.”

  “Rice?” Patrick asked.

  “Of course,” Walter said. “In these parts it’s known as Carolina Gold.”

  “What do you do on a raid?” Beth asked.

  “Whatever we can to help the Union soldiers,” Harriet said. “My goal is to free as many slaves as I can.”

  “We’ll take whatever supplies we can,” Walter said. “Then we’ll destroy everything else.”

  “If all goes well,” Harriet said, “we’ll be back here by tomorrow night.”

  But what if all doesn’t go well? Beth wondered. The Confederates could attack. A ship could sink. She and Patrick could be taken as prisoners along with their new friends. People could even be killed.

  Beth heard something sliding into the water. She remembered the alligator. Above them a bird gave a shrill ca-ca-ca.

  She heard a slight hum and looked into the darkness. The Imagination Station appeared. But it was fading in and out. The young Eugene was driving it.

  The Model T was headed toward them. It was going fast. Beth ducked.

  “Are you okay?” Patrick asked.

  Beth looked around. The Imagination Station had disappeared. She said, “Did you see that?”

  “See what?” Patrick asked.

  Thud!

  They all lurched forward. Beth fell onto the deck on her hands and knees.

  Patrick landed next to her.

  “What did we crash into?” Patrick asked.

  A whirring sound came from the ship’s engine. But the vessel didn’t move.

  “Let’s find out what happened,” Walter said.

  They moved toward a crowd gathered around a man. He wore light-colored clothes, not a uniform. Beth guessed he was a pilot.

  A soldier asked, “Why aren’t we moving?”

  The captain hurried to the front of the crowd. “The mission is still on,” he said. “But the Sentinel has run aground. Fortunately, the other ships can travel in shallower water.”

  Harriet sighed and said, “Our part of this mission is over. Godspeed to the other boats.”

  Beth listened for the other ships. But she didn’t hear any chugging.

  “The Adams and Weed are probably miles away,” Harriet said. “Let’s pray that many slaves will be freed.”

  Patrick and Beth held hands. Harriet said, “Lord, we’re going to hold steady on You. And You’ve got to see us through.”

  Patrick said, “Amen.”

  “It might be a long wait,” Walter said. He lay down on the deck. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

  Beth stayed alert. Now nothing felt safe.

  “I don’t like waiting,” Harriet said. “But sometimes waiting is all we can do.”

  “How much danger are we in?” Beth asked.

  “We should be okay,” Walter said from where he lay on the deck. “The Union controls this area.”

  “It does,” Harriet said. “But Confederates sneak into Union-controlled areas. And we sneak into their territory.”

  Beth thought she heard something. She wasn’t sure what it was at first.

  She heard Walter start to snore and a bird trill. There was a muffled splash of water. But then she heard it again. It was a repeated rhythm, something between a rumble and a hiss.

  And the sound slowly drew closer. It became a soft chugging noise.

  Harriet said, “That sounds like a steam engine.”

  “Any steamship out at this time of night is up to no good,” Patrick said.

  “Sneaking, just like we are,” Beth said.

  Everyone on deck grew quiet.

  “It’s dark,” Harriet said in a low voice. “Maybe they won’t see us. Stay low to keep away from flying bullets. Behind a crate is safest.”

  Walter continued snoring.

  The soldiers put out their lanterns. They rested their rifles on the ship’s railing. Beth knew they were getting ready for an attack.

  Beth put out Walter’s lamp.

  Harriet moved between Patrick and Beth. She grabbed their hands and pulled them behind a crate.

  “Hide here,” she said. She went back for Walter.

  Beth started to shiver. She didn’t like the idea of being in a real Civil War battle.

  Banished

  The chugging came closer and closer.

  Beth and Patrick held hands. There was nothing they could do but wait.

  Quietly, Walter and Harriet joined the cousins. They all hid behind the crate.

  Patrick heard the hum of the Imagination Station. He peeked over the crate.

  An older Eugene was in the Model-T car. He was driving toward Patrick. But he was only a shimmer. Then he was gone.

  “Did you see Eugene?” Patrick whispered.

  Beth shook her head. “I thought I saw him earlier. Something must have gone wrong.”

  Patrick saw a long shadow move beside their ship. The other ship’s lanterns were lit. A man stood on the edge of the boat. He held his lantern high.

  Maybe he won’t see us, Patrick thought.

  The chugging stopped. The boat slowed.

  “Ahoy there,” said a deep voice on the other ship. “Need some help?”

  The captain called out, “We’ve run aground.”

  The voice from the other ship said, “We’ll take you aboard.”

  Harriet peeked over the crate. “I recognize that voice,” she said. “That’s James Montgomery. He’s aboard the Adams.”

  “We’re saved!” Beth said.

  “And Miss Harriet will get to go on the raid,” Patrick said.

  Montgomery called, “Start rowing the cargo over and then your soldiers. We’ll leave the Sentinel behind.”

  Patrick heard another chugging sound.

  Walter squinted into the night. He said, “That’s the Weed. They both came back for us.”

  Walter hurried to help the soldiers. Some pushed wooden crates to the edge. Others untied the rowboats behind the ship.

  Patrick tried pushing a heavy crate. It wouldn’t budge.

  Beth helped Patrick push. Slowly they moved the crate to the edge of the boat. The Adams was only a stone’s throw away. Cargo and people were being ferried over quickly.

  “It’s a delay,” Harriet said. “But we can still raid t
he rice plantations.”

  The cousins waited for their turn in a rowboat. Harriet and Walter boarded first. Soon it was Beth’s turn. She climbed down the rope ladder.

  Then it was Patrick’s turn. He jumped and landed. His shoes made a thud against the wooden rowboat. He sat next to Beth.

  Then three soldiers quickly boarded. One of them picked up the back pair of oars.

  The rowboat sunk deeper in the water. Patrick heard something bump against its side. He wondered if alligators came to the middle of rivers.

  “Enough,” a soldier said. “These boats only hold eight passengers. We already have more than that.”

  The soldiers dipped their oars into the water. It took only a few strokes to reach the Adams. The soldiers climbed out. Walter and Miss Harriet did too.

  Beth made her way up the rope ladder and onto the ship.

  “Thank you for rowing us,” Patrick said. He started to climb the rope ladder. His feet left the boat.

  The soldier started rowing away.

  Patrick took a deep breath and finished his climb. Finally he was at the ship’s edge. He felt Walter pulling him onto the ship.

  “Thanks,” he said to Walter.

  Suddenly a man shouted, “Not on my ship!” It was James Montgomery’s voice.

  The man held a lantern. The glow lit up his face. Montgomery had dark curly hair and wore a bushy beard and moustache.

  He looked at Beth, then at Patrick. Montgomery shook his head. The lantern swayed back and forth. The shifting light made him look scary.

  “Neither of you can be here,” Montgomery said. “You’re children. There’s no place in battle for children.”

  “They’re with me, Colonel Montgomery,” Harriet said.

  Colonel! Patrick exchanged glances with Beth.

  Montgomery’s face softened. “Not even for you, Miss Harriet,” the colonel said. “Remove the children from this ship.”

  Suddenly Beth spoke. “Colonel,” she said, “I have a letter for you.” She took the envelope from her pocket. She held out the letter to him.

  Montgomery took it from her. He gave the lantern to a soldier beside him.

  “Hold the lantern high,” he said.

  He opened the envelope.

  Patrick held his breath.

  The colonel read the letter under the lantern. He grunted.

  “I don’t like this at all,” the colonel said. He pointed at Beth. “You can stay.”

  She smiled.

  Patrick let out his breath. The letter had saved them.

  The colonel turned and pointed to Patrick. “But not you,” he said.

  “What?” Beth said. “We have to stay together.”

  “No,” the man said. “The note is from Major General Sumner. He vouches for the bearer of the note. He says nothing about the bearer’s companions.”

  Beth turned to Patrick. Her eyes were big with worry.

  The colonel turned to the soldier holding the lantern. He said, “Get that boy off my ship.”

  The Harriet A. Weed

  “No!” Beth said. “That’s not fair!”

  “You’re welcome to join him, young lady,” Montgomery said. “Get this boy off the Adams now.”

  A soldier came to Patrick’s side. Patrick’s shoulders drooped. He walked with the soldier to the edge of the ship. The rowboat was back, filled with crates from the Sentinel. Soldiers quickly unloaded it.

  “Take that rowboat,” the colonel said to Patrick.

  Harriet hugged Patrick. “I’m sorry to see you go,” she said. “But be sure the good Lord has another plan for you.”

  “Thank you, Miss Harriet,” Patrick said.

  Beth reached out and touched Patrick’s arm.

  “It’s okay, Beth,” Patrick said. “I’ll be fine. You’re going on the raid. Be safe.”

  “Time to go,” said the soldier.

  Patrick climbed down the rope ladder. Walter followed him. Beth hurried to the side of the ship to watch Patrick leave.

  “I’ll row,” Walter said to the rower.

  “Thanks,” said the soldier. He climbed out of the rowboat.

  Beth saw Walter sit in the boat. He took the oars in his hands. Patrick sat in the middle of the boat. The rowboat moved away from the ship.

  Beth waved to Patrick.

  Patrick waved back. He tried to look cheerful, but Beth could tell he was sad.

  Harriet slipped a comforting arm around Beth. “Come away, child.”

  Beth nodded. She wiped a tear from her eye. She would go on this raid. She would do whatever she could to help Harriet free others.

  “We have a long way to go,” Harriet said to Beth. “And we need to be awake when we get there. Let’s get some sleep.”

  Harriet walked between some crates. There was room for two people to lie down. Harriet lay down and turned on her side. She used the crook of her arm as a pillow.

  Beth followed her lead. But she doubted she would be able to sleep. She looked up into the night sky.

  Suddenly she heard a low hum. Once again the Imagination Station appeared. But she saw only the front half of it. Young Eugene drove it. Then old Eugene was driving it. Then young Eugene drove it again.

  The Model T disappeared.

  Maybe Eugene was in more trouble than Patrick!

  Patrick sat in the back of the rowboat. He said, “Would you sneak me back to the ship? I can hide inside a crate.”

  “No,” Walter said. “I’m a soldier, Patrick. I have to obey my officers.”

  “I understand,” Patrick said. He sighed.

  “Being a soldier is about trusting your leaders,” Walter said. “I can’t disobey Colonel Montgomery’s orders. I’d be cut from the regiment or get myself killed.”

  Patrick sighed again. He picked up the oars and rowed steadily.

  “Cheer up,” Walter said. He dipped his oars back into the water.

  The Sentinel was only a few strokes away. The cold air brushed past them.

  Walter passed the stranded boat.

  “What’re you doing?” Patrick asked.

  “I have to obey my orders,” Walter said. He smiled. “The colonel told me to take you off the Adams. But he didn’t tell me exactly where to take you, did he?”

  Patrick smiled.

  “There’s no one on the Sentinel,” Walter said. “I can’t leave you alone there. I have to take you to the Weed.”

  “Thank you!” Patrick said quietly.

  “I’m only doing my job,” Walter said.

  Both boys climbed on board the Weed and secured the rowboat.

  “You’re a little young to be on a raid,” said a man’s voice.

  Not again! Patrick thought.

  Patrick looked at the man. He was dressed like the pilot of the ship.

  “We all have to do our part, sir,” Patrick said.

  “Colonel Montgomery asked that I take him off the Adams,” Walter said. “This is the only other working boat, Simmons.”

  Simmons smiled.

  “Sir, do you know of a slave named Kitch?” Patrick asked. “He’s from Kentucky.”

  Simmons shrugged. “Hundreds of slaves were moved to the Deep South since the war started,” he said. “I don’t know their names. They’re spread out all over Beaufort County.”

  Patrick thought about asking the pilot about the picture on his watch. What did the inscription Follow the star mean? But he was afraid Simmons would think he was a Rebel—a Confederate soldier.

  Simmons gave a nod and went on his way.

  “He’s a great pilot,” Walter said. “We’ll reach the Combahee River without hitting any buried torpedoes or running aground.”

  Patrick said, “What do we do now?”

  “Rest,” Walter said. “The raiding will start at dawn.”

  Patrick found a spot near the wheelhouse and sat down. Walter sat next to him.

  “Besides, my nap was cut short,” Walter said. Patrick could hear the smile in his voice.

  “
What do you expect to happen tomorrow?” Patrick asked.

  “Hard to tell,” Walter said. “First we have to clear the area of sniper fire. We don’t want artillery shooting at us from the bluffs near the river. Then our boats can raid the plantations and free the slaves.”

  “What happens to those who are clearing the bluffs?” Patrick asked. “Will they go home another way?”

  “The ships will pick them up on the way back down the river,” Walter said. “Best not to think about it. Some of us will make it home to Beaufort, and some won’t.”

  Patrick gulped. How could he fall asleep now?

  Fields Point

  Beth woke to the sound of soldiers’ heavy footsteps. They thumped the deck of the Adams. She sat up and glanced around.

  Harriet was no longer next to her.

  The Adams had docked on the edge of the river. A small company of men was starting to leave the ship.

  The dawn glowed bright orange on the horizon downriver. A large bluff rose ahead. It looked like a mountain that someone had flattened at the top. Lush trees grew on its side.

  Beth stood, and Harriet came toward her. “The land around the Combahee is beautiful, isn’t it?” Harriet said. “This is Fields Point.”

  “Are we going to free the slaves now?” Beth asked.

  “Not yet,” Harriet said. “Fields Point has Confederate trenches dug on the top. Enemy snipers could be hiding there. The soldiers must clear the point if riverboats are to be safe. Let’s stay behind the cannon.”

  Beth hurried behind the cannon with Harriet. She looked toward the bluff. The enemy might be preparing to shoot at them right now.

  A dozen soldiers were climbing the side of the bluff.

  Beth worried for them. Men in the trenches above could easily shoot them.

  “Those soldiers and their captain are brave,” Harriet said. She gently pulled Beth back farther behind the cannon. “Stay low.”

  Beth ducked and waited to hear the first shot.

  Patrick stood on the deck of the Weed. He watched the soldiers leave the Adams. They wound their way through the trees toward Fields Point.