Martha and the Slave Catchers

by Harriet Hyman Alonso

  “Maybe I can help you walk, Miss Lucy,” Martha offered.

  “No. Leg’s all mangled. I tried to run away from Massa Dawes’s father. Got caught. He ordered his men to break it with a sledgehammer so’s I couldn’t run away again but so’s I could walk good enough to cook for him.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Lucy stood and said pointedly, “Not your fault, though other things are. Now, you all gotta get going. Here’s a little sack with some bread and a rope and knife that you might need. No meat to attract animals.”

  Martha shuddered as she took the burlap bag. “Where will we go?”

  “North.”

  Martha was silent, sorry for her lack of patience and her always impetuous actions.

  “How’ll we go north? Who’ll take us?”

  “You,” Lucy answered. “You’ll follow the drinking gourd and the North Star and take Jake north on the Underground Railroad. My sweet Mariah fought for that, and so will you. Some miles north you’ll see a small red farmhouse. Go there. Miz Holden’ll help you.”

  “But how do I get there?”

  “You go through these here woods, keeping the fields on your right ’til they end. Then you keep going straight, cross the river, and keep going ’til you come to a road. You’ll see the farmhouse. If Miz Holden has a blue quilt on the line, it’s safe to come on. If not, hide in the woods ’til she puts it up.”

  “What if we get lost?”

  “Just follow the North Star. And only travel by night. If you get lost or delayed, you stay put during the day.”

  “Won’t they come after us?”

  “Sure thing. But with the fire burning, everyone’ll be busy ’til daybreak. They might not miss you for a whole day. When they do find you gone, Will and Tom’ll come after you with the dogs. So try to walk in the river as soon as you can so’s the dogs lose your scent.”

  Martha had never felt so frightened in her life.

  “You gotta go now, girl.”

  “But what’ll happen to you, Miss Lucy?”

  “It don’ matter. Massa can whup me, sell me, or do anythin’ he likes. All that’s important is that Jake goes north. Besides,” she said as an afterthought, “Massa sure likes my cookin’, so he probly won’ sell me.”

  Lucy drew Jake into her arms one last time. “You jes remember, chile. I loves you and always will.”

  With that, Lucy rose and pushed Martha toward the woods. “I’ll pray for you,” she said and turned back to the big house. Martha took Jake’s hand and said, “Come on, Jake. Let’s go.”

  Only then did she realize that in the fire she, too, had lost all she had, but most importantly, the papers saying she and Jake were free.

  CHAPTER 11

  MARTHA SHIFTED her weight from one foot to another as she peered into those dark, frightening woods. She hated woods. Always had. When she was a small child, her papa had a hard time getting her to take strolls with him in the Connecticut forests. He had to coax her with promises of finding pretty flowers and having sweet snacks when they returned home. Still, to this very moment, she cringed when she thought about the feel of the plants and trees brushing against her skin and all the insects, animals, and reptiles waiting to pounce on her.

  Jake tugged at her sleeve. “Let’s go, Mattie. You said we should hurry.”

  Martha stared at him and the forest and froze. Jake ran into the woods. “C’mon, Mattie,” he called.

  Her voice cracking with fright, she yelled after him, “Jake, wait for me. Stop! Come back here.”

  When Jake scurried back to her side, she grabbed him by the arm, placed her hands on his shoulders, and spoke firmly into his face. That was the only way she could be certain he was paying attention.

  “Calm down. We can’t just go running off into the woods. We have to stay close together and think things through first.”

  Martha opened the sack Lucy had given her and took out the rope. “Now, I’m gonna tie this around your waist and . . .”

  “No,” shouted Jake. “I don’t want a rope. I don’t like them.”

  Martha grabbed him in panic, but Jake pulled away from her. He started shaking his hands up and down and rocking back and forth on the balls and heels of his bare feet. Martha had to stop him before his habitual moans, then shrieks, followed. “Jake,” she urged, “I want to tie the other end to me, so that we won’t get separated.”

  Jake just moaned and whined and rocked. Suddenly, there came a loud rustling in the undergrowth. Frantically, Martha jerked Jake toward a tree they could hide behind, her hand quickly covering his mouth to quell his noise.

  “What’re you chirren doing?” came Lucy’s angry voice. In no time at all, she stood before the crouching Martha and Jake and pulled them to their feet. “I told you to get goin’ and here you are yellin’ and screamin’ so loud that someone’s bound to hear you.”

  Jake ran to Lucy and threw his arms around her hips. “She wants to tie me with a rope. I don’t want no rope, Granma. I don’t wanna go with her. Can’t I stay with you?”

  Martha was livid. It was like old times when she got blamed for Jake’s doings. She was very tempted to agree with him. Why not let Lucy take him? Maybe he’d be better off with her.

  “Hush, chile,” Lucy said. “Everything’ll be all right. You know you need to leave this place and go back up North. That’s what your mama Mariah wanted for you.”

  Jake just held on tighter, tears now coursing down his cheeks. Humiliated, Martha waited for the reprimand she knew was coming.

  “And as for you, Missy Martha, you get yourself together and take this boy home.” She then untied the rope from Jake’s waist and threw it at her. “And don’ you treat my boy here like no slave. He free and he gonna stay free.”

  Martha looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry, Miss Lucy, but it’s dark and I don’t know where I’m going. I’m scared of losing Jake and getting lost myself.”

  “You gotta trust the boy. And he gotta trust you. I taught Jake something about these woods. He can help you. Now, get going.”

  Martha reluctantly headed into the dense woods. As she put her first foot forward, she realized that this was the moment she had been waiting for. So many times on this journey she had wanted the adults to leave her be so she could make her own decisions. Now, they had. She gathered her courage and looked at Jake. He was still crying, and it was all her fault. She had to be strong, but patient, with him. No more hands on hips. No more thumping foot. Just a firm gentleness, she thought. The important thing was to lead him home. Starting now. Slowly, she took her treasured handkerchief from her pocket and gently wiped his eyes. She squeezed his fingers as she had so many times in the past, and although she felt his shoulders tense, he allowed her to hold on to him.

  Before she disappeared into the darkness, Martha looked back. There was Lucy wringing her hands and watching until she was sure they were on their way. In the stillness, Martha heard her say softly, as if in prayer, “And please, you chirren, go quietly and be careful and be safe.”

  After about a half hour of blindly following a narrow path, Martha stopped short. It was time to see if Jake had really learned anything from Lucy.

  “Jake, I’m not sure where we are. Do you think we’re going north? These trees are so big, I can’t really see the sky or the North Star.”

  “Granma Lucy taught me a trick about the trees. Wanna hear it?”

  “Tell me.”

  “See, Mattie. See the moss on this tree?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, the moss points north. See, there’s not so much moss on the other side of the tree. Sometimes none at all.”

  Martha still did not trust Jake’s abilities. “Let me see.”

  Much to her surprise, she saw that on one side of all the trees around her, there was thick green moss.

  “So, what you’re saying is that we walk in that direction? The way the moss is pointing.”

  “That’s what Granma said. She said it might be
useful to me someday.”

  “Your granma’s very smart, Jake. Let’s go.”

  Onward they went deeper into the woods, stepping as quietly as they could. Still, the twigs under their feet snapped and cracked and small rocks and pebbles made scrunching noises as they passed over them. Martha constantly fanned gnats and mosquitoes away from her face and arms while Jake noisily slapped at them. Every few minutes Martha shushed Jake and he shushed her right back in a louder voice. Martha paused at practically every tree to check for moss and at every other tree to look up through the overhanging branches hoping to glimpse a piece of the sky and maybe the North Star. A gathering fog from the marshy swamps on either side of their path did not help. Martha wheezed and gasped as the thick humid air clogged her lungs. Often, the two had to stop for her to catch her breath. Jake followed along, not once complaining about her slowness.

  During one stop, Martha heard a faraway braying and howling that alerted her to danger. “What’s that?”

  “Mattie, it sounds like Mr. Dawes’s dogs. I heard them every time he brought them into the yard.”

  Martha thought of the fugitive slave stories she had read, of the bloodhounds tracking the runaways. A shot of fear almost paralyzed her. Lucy had predicted that the fire would prevent Dawes from discovering their absence until the next morning, but she was wrong.

  Jake looked up at her in fright. “Those are scary dogs. They’re big and they sniff all around you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I was outside once when they came by. They sniffed me and stuck their noses in my face. They growled at me.”

  Martha froze. These dogs would most likely recognize Jake’s scent. She thought quickly.

  “We need to find someplace to hide,” she said.

  “Remember, Mattie, Granma Lucy said we should walk in the river so the dogs won’t be able to smell us.”

  “But where’s the river?”

  Jake tugged on her arm, dragging her forward. He looked terrified.

  “One time Granma Lucy took me in the woods,” he said, “and she told me that if I followed where the moss told me to go, I would get to a river. She said that it wasn’t too deep in most places.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lucy,” Martha thought to herself. “Thank you for preparing Jake for this very day.”

  The sound of the hounds grew closer. Martha moved faster than she thought was possible, sometimes leading, other times following Jake. At the point at which she thought she would collapse from the effort, Jake stopped dead.

  “Why are you stopping? If we stop, I won’t be able to get myself moving again.”

  Pointing his finger, he said, “Listen, Mattie. The river.”

  Together, they broke through a group of dense trees and there it was, a fast-moving river about as wide as their barn back home. Although there were numerous rocks poking up on both shores, Martha did not see any in the middle, so she could not fathom a guess as to how deep it was.

  Martha’s experience with rivers was not great. In truth, they scared her as so many things did. She had dipped her feet into Blackwell’s Brook with Caleb, but she had never gone swimming and never thought she would. That would require removing some of her clothing, and Martha, like all the girls she knew, simply would never entertain such an improper thought. But she needed to cross that river, not just to save Jake, but to save herself.

  Gritting her teeth, she put one foot then the other into the water. It was cold like mountain water, and the current felt strong. She paused, then looked at Jake rocking from one foot to the other and shaking his hands up and down. She drew him to her and hugged him firmly. “I know you’ll hate this, Jake, but we must tie the rope around each of our waists so that neither one of us gets carried away by the river and drowns. Will you let me do that?”

  Martha heard the dogs more clearly now. So did Jake.

  “Put it around your waist first,” he moaned.

  After several tries with her nervous fingers, she had it tied tightly around her waist. She then quickly secured her sack and turned to Jake. “Ready?”

  “I guess.” While she tied the rope, he continued his moaning almost in a whisper and then quieted down.

  Turning her back to him, she said, “Now, put your arms around my neck and wrap your legs around my waist.”

  Jake did as he was told, and once he was secured onto her back, Martha strode into the river. He was so light that at first the crossing was easy. The rocks were relatively flat and she moved forward without any problems. But as she got further in and the water rose, her shoes acted like iron weights, slowing her down. Using all the determination she could muster, she continued north on the crossing, the water rising higher and higher. Jake began to whimper, and his arms and legs tightened around her.

  “Don’t hold on so tight, Jake. You’re choking me,” she said. “And try to lift your body up. That way, maybe I can move a little faster.”

  A tree branch rushed by, catching Martha’s arm. She pushed it away but it left a bright red streak of blood running down to her hand. She swiped at it, missed a step, and, twisting her ankle, lost her balance. The river grabbed her and pushed her downstream. She thought she would drown as water rushed into her mouth and up her nose. A long, thick tree trunk that had fallen into the river loomed up in front of her. She threw her arms around it. Its bare branches scratched her face and a thick limb hit Jake on the head. He slumped against her and Martha’s throat seized up with terror.

  “Jake, are you all right?”

  Jake was silent. Martha struggled to reestablish her footing. The water was up to her neck and she was using her arms to boost Jake’s body and head above the water line, praying he was still alive. Once steady, she waded forward for what seemed like hours but the dogs’ barks lessened and she hoped that meant they had lost the scent.

  At long last, the water lowered and the land rose, the bottom of the riverbed becoming softer, but muddier. Exhausted, Martha reached the north shore, using every last bit of her strength to drag herself and Jake out of the water and up to a sandy spot behind a large rock. There she loosened her grip on him and gently lowered him to the ground. She attempted to undo the rope, but the water had tightened the knots and so Martha reached for the knife in her small sack, carefully unwrapped it from its cloth covering, and used its sharp blade to cut through the strong twine. Perhaps, she thought, it was not wise to cut the rope, but for both their sakes, she had to. If Jake woke up still tethered to her, he was bound to panic and cry out.

  Making sure that Jake was still breathing, Martha lay down beside him to give him warmth from her body. She rubbed his arms and legs and spoke loudly into his ear. He did not move. Worn out and despondent, Martha determined to keep watch, but instead she quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When she woke up to bright sunlight, Jake was staring at her.

  “I’m hungry,” he said.

  Martha started laughing.

  “Shhhhhh.”

  She lowered her voice. “Jake, how’s your head?”

  “I’m fine, Mattie. Did something happen to me?”

  “A tree limb hit your head and knocked you out. I was real worried about you.”

  Jake ran his fingers over his head. “I feel a lump here,” he pointed, “but it doesn’t hurt. And anyway, I’m hungry.”

  Martha opened the sack, although she already knew that the bread Lucy had given her would be totally disintegrated, and it was. “I’m afraid we don’t have anything. Just water from the river, but I’m not sure we should expose ourselves to whoever might be watching.”

  Jake looked around and crooked his neck to listen. “It’s real quiet, Mattie. I think it would be safe for me to go drink some water. I’m really, really thirsty.”

  Martha was not so sure, but they could not go for a whole day without at least some water. “All right, but I’ll go with you.”

  Without thinking, she started to get up. A pain shot through her ankle and up her leg. Jake bent down to take
a look. “What happened?”

  “I sprained my ankle on a rock in the river. What’ll we do now?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Martha chewed her lip and started to protest.

  Jake stiffened his back and said, “Remember, Mattie, Granma Lucy said you have to trust me.”

  He then scampered off and when he came back, he had two sturdy tree branches that forked at the tops. “Try this. Maybe it’ll help you walk.”

  Sure enough. Even though one tree limb was taller and thicker than the other, Martha could use them as crutches, but they sure would be moving very slowly.

  “I found something else,” Jake said. “Some mushrooms.”

  “But aren’t they supposed to be poisonous?”

  “Granma Lucy showed me some different ones. These are safe. I already ate some, and see? I’m not dead or even sick.” Then he held out a cloth dripping with water. “And I soaked this handkerchief in the river so we can suck on it for water.”

  “Granma Lucy again?”

  “She taught me lots of things, Mattie, about the trees and plants and even about some animals. I found some berries that I can pick later and we can have those to eat, too.”

  “That sounds good, Jake. You’re really smart.”

  Beaming with pride, Jake asked, “When do we leave here, Mattie?”

  “Tonight. We’ll just have to stay put behind this rock and hope that no one comes looking for us.”

  “There’s a bigger rock a little bit further into the woods. Maybe we should hide there.”

  Martha hesitated as she gazed into the leafy darkness. “I guess that’s a good idea,” she said, “but first, let’s try to dry some of our clothes in the sun and then we’ll move.”

  For the rest of the morning, Martha and Jake turned this way and that in the small spot of sunlight behind the rock until their clothes dried. By noon, with Jake’s help, Martha had hobbled to the larger boulder, and there they spent the rest of the day sleeping on and off and talking in low voices.

  “Jake, can you tell me,” she asked gently, “how Dawes treated you after he took you away from us?”