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Our Kansas Home

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by Deborah Hopkinson




  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First Aladdin Paperbacks edition February 2003

  Text copyright © 2003 by Deborah Hopkinson

  Illustrations copyright © 2003 by Patrick Faricy

  ALADDIN PAPERBACKS

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster

  Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Also available in an Aladdin Library edition.

  Designed by Debra Sfetsios

  The text of this book was set in ITC Century Book.

  Printed in the United States of America

  2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

  Library of Congress Control Number 2002113774

  ISBN 0-689-84353-4

  ISBN: 978-0-689-84353-2

  eISBN: 978-1-43911-356-1

  Ho, brothers! Come, brothers! Hasten all with me. We’ll sing upon the Kansas plains, A song of liberty.

  from “Call to Kansas”

  —Lucy Larcom

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  In researching Our Kansas Home I feel fortunate to have had online access to many original manuscripts, letters, and books written by Kansas citizens in the 1850s. This would not have been possible without the efforts of volunteers, who took the time to scan these documents and make them available online through the Kansas Collection (www.kancoll.org).

  Thanks also to Kansas historian Paul Stuewe, who read the manuscript and offered many helpful suggestions. Thanks as well to the librarians of the Kansas State Historical Society and the interlibrary loan staff of Whitman College for their assistance, to Michele Hill for help with research in Kansas, and to Deborah Wiles for her insightful comments. I am also grateful to my editor, Ellen Krieger, for her encouragement. Any errors are mine.

  For Toni and Jeremy

  OUR KANSAS HOME

  CHAPTER ONE

  KANSAS TERRITORY May 1856

  Charlie Keller ran down the muddy road clutching two crinkled dollar bills in his hand.

  “Calico, ribbon, and candy for Sadie,” Charlie sang to himself. He didn’t want to forget anything. “Calico, ribbon, and candy for Sadie.

  “I promised Papa we’d meet him in ten minutes, Lion,” Charlie told the golden dog trotting at his side. “So stay close.”

  Lion barked and flashed his big dog grin.

  Charlie laughed. Finding Lion was the best thing that had happened to him since moving to Kansas. There was only one problem: Lion liked to wander.

  “It’s dangerous for Lion to roam the prairie,” Papa had warned last fall, after Lion had run off for two days. “Besides, a dog costs money to feed. If we’re going to keep Lion, he has to stick close and learn to be a watchdog.”

  Ida Jane had chimed in. “You’re nine now, Charlie. You and Lion just can’t wander around looking at birds and plants all day. You have to train him.”

  Bossy Ida Jane! But Charlie knew his older sister was right, and so Charlie had worked hard with Lion all winter. Now Lion could sit, stay, and come when called.

  At least Lion could do all these things at home. But would Lion obey Charlie in the busy town of Lawrence?

  Charlie stopped outside the store. Time for Lion’s first test.

  “Stay,” Charlie commanded. Lion’s bright brown eyes sparkled. He wagged his tail, back and forth, back and forth. Then he plopped down. Perfect.

  “Good dog. I’ll be right back.” Charlie patted Lion’s head, turned, and—bam! He bumped right into a man with a long, sad face.

  “Oh, sorry, Mr. Dillon,” said Charlie. Sometimes people called Ed Dillon “Wooden Ed.” He had a shop in town where he built wooden chairs and tables.

  “Why, Charlie Keller of Spring Creek! Where’s your pa?” asked Ed.

  “Papa’s buying cornmeal, molasses, and …,” Charlie began.

  Wooden Ed held up his hand. “Hold on. Haven’t you heard? The town’s in danger. Sheriff Samuel Jones and his border ruffians are set to attack the Free State Hotel this very afternoon.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. “Sheriff Jones and his border ruffians!”

  Charlie knew the border ruffians were rough men, willing to fight to make Kansas a slave state someday. But Charlie’s family, and most people in Lawrence, wanted Kansas Territory to enter the Union as a free state, where owning slaves wouldn’t be allowed.

  “The whole country is watching Kansas,” Papa had told Charlie. “If proslavery folks win here, slavery is sure to spread into other new territories in the West.”

  And the proslavery side was winning. Last year some proslavery men from Missouri had pretended to live in Kansas, so they could vote in the Kansas election. And they had won. That’s why Kansas Territory had proslavery men like Sheriff Jones in charge.

  Papa was still angry about the “bogus” election. “It wasn’t fair,” he told Charlie. “But now we’re expected to obey their laws and men like that rascal Jones. Why, Jones doesn’t even live here; he’s from Missouri!”

  And if Sheriff Jones was in Lawrence with his gang of border ruffians, it could mean only one thing: trouble.

  Wooden Ed strode off toward the hotel, pulling Charlie behind him.

  “Wait, I almost forgot!” cried Charlie. “My dog.”

  Charlie whistled. In a flash Lion was at his side.

  “Now, that’s a well-trained pup you’ve got,” said Ed.

  “Lion’s a good boy,” Charlie said proudly, patting Lion on the head.

  “I guess your pa’s been too busy on his farm to keep up with the news in town,” Ed said as they rushed toward the hotel.

  Charlie nodded. “Pa planted six acres of corn. Momma says if we don’t get a good crop, she has a mind to go back to Massachusetts. She claims she couldn’t live through another winter like this past one.”

  “It was rough on all the new settlers,” Ed agreed.

  What a winter! The prairie wind had never stopped whistling and moaning. Most mornings their drinking water had been frozen solid in the pail. Little Sadie, who was just five, had been sick a lot.

  And once, Charlie had found Momma crying softly as she rocked Baby Henry.

  “We came here to find a new life, and to keep the evil of slavery from spreading,” Momma had whispered, tears in her eyes. “But I never dreamed life would be so hard.”

  At least it’s spring now, thought Charlie. The May sun felt warm on his back. But he couldn’t help worrying about what might happen next.

  If the border ruffians made trouble all summer, Papa and the other settlers wouldn’t have time to work on their new farms. If they didn’t grow enough food, some families might give up and go back to their home states. Just what the border ruffians wanted!

  I wonder if we’ll go back, Charlie thought.

  Charlie hadn’t wanted to leave Massachusetts. He still missed Grandpa and his old dog, Danny. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself hunting bird nests in their old woods and catching polliwogs in the pond.

  Still, Charlie was growing to like Kansas. He loved the way hawks soared in the bi
g prairie skies.

  Charlie liked the people he’d met, too. Especially his friend, Flory Morgan. Flory always made him smile. She called him “Massachusetts Charlie,” and sang old river songs in her high, sweet voice.

  The truth was Charlie didn’t know where he belonged anymore.

  Massachusetts or Kansas. Which was home now?

  CHAPTER TWO

  “There’s the Free State Hotel!” cried Charlie. “I think it must be the grandest building in Kansas.”

  “Now families have a fine place to stay when they arrive,” Ed said proudly. “But Sheriff Jones and the proslavery folks claim it’s a fort. They say we free-state settlers might use it to overthrow the government.”

  A crowd of men had gathered in front of the hotel. Charlie stood on tiptoes to look for Papa.

  Wooden Ed squinted. “Can you spot him?”

  “No. Oh, wait. There he is. Papa!” Charlie hollered. A tall, thin man with dark hair shouldered his way toward them.

  “Good to see you, Ed,” said Papa, shaking Mr. Dillon’s hand. “So it looks like more trouble.”

  Ed nodded. “Sheriff Jones has been coming around for weeks, trying to arrest the free-state leaders. Especially anyone who helped rescue Jacob Branson.” He gave Papa a long look and added, “They haven’t noticed me. Yet …”

  Charlie felt a wave of fear rush over him. Last fall Sheriff Jones had arrested a free-state man named Jacob Branson for no good reason. Some of Branson’s friends had rescued him because they feared the sheriff might hurt him.

  Charlie would never forget that night. He had hidden in the wagon. But Papa and Ed Dillon had stood up with the other free-state men.

  Will Sheriff Jones go after Papa, too? Charlie wondered.

  “It didn’t help that some fool shot at Jones a few weeks ago,” Ed went on.

  “Now, that was wrong,” said Papa. “Is Jones all right?”

  “He was wounded, but he’s better,” Ed replied. “And madder than ever. He wants to punish the whole town. And destroying the hotel is one way to do it.”

  Just then a man rode up and stopped his horse right in front of them. “They’re coming!” he shouted. “Jones and his men are riding down from the top of Mount Oread.”

  At that moment the man’s horse reared. Its hooves came down near Charlie and Lion. Papa grabbed Charlie, and pulled him to safety.

  Lion yelped. Charlie made a grab for him, but Lion was spooked. He started to run, tail between his legs.

  “Lion!” Charlie yelled. “Oh, I have to catch him.”

  Before Papa could stop him, Charlie pushed his way through the crowd of men.

  At the corner he stopped. He didn’t see Lion anywhere.

  It wasn’t Lion’s fault, thought Charlie.He couldn’t help being scared.

  “Lion! Here, boy!” Charlie yelled.

  He turned the corner and froze in horror.

  “Border ruffians,” he whispered.

  I should run, thought Charlie. But he couldn’t make his feet move.

  He was standing in front of the newspaper office. Charlie could read the sign: KANSAS FREE STATE. As he watched, four or five men smashed the door open.

  They rushed inside, whooping and shouting. Charlie heard loud crashes and bangs.

  Suddenly a chair came flying out the door. Charlie jumped back.

  Then came a desk, and another chair.

  Someone threw out a lantern. Crash! The glass broke into a hundred pieces.

  Next came equipment, stacks of paper, and old newspapers.

  A man came up behind Charlie. “They’re wrecking the printing press. They won’t stop until the newspaper office is destroyed.”

  A shower of black metal poured out the door. Some of the bits landed at Charlie’s feet. He bent down and picked one of them up. He turned the small piece of metal over in his hand.

  “What is it?” Charlie asked the man.

  “That’s a piece of type. It’s a letter the printer uses to set a page of print,” the man told him. “Won’t be much good now.”

  Then the man walked away, his shoulders slumped.

  Charlie peered at the tiny object in his hand. It was the capital letter “L.”

  “Words have power,” Momma had told him, when he first learned to read. Charlie hadn’t understood what she meant. Now Charlie thought he knew.

  These men didn’t want anyone writing about making Kansas a free state. They didn’t want people to speak out against slavery. They didn’t want anything to change.

  One of the men came out of the building and pointed at Charlie. “Hey, boy, what you lookin’ at?”

  In a flash Charlie slipped the tiny letter into his pocket. He spun on his heel and ran hard.

  “Lion. Here, boy,” Charlie called as he ran.

  Charlie wanted to find Lion more than ever. He felt scared to be walking alone.

  He called again.

  All at once he heard a bark. Lion came running toward him.

  Lion leaned against Charlie’s leg and pushed his wet nose against Charlie’s hand. He plopped to the ground and rolled over to have his belly scratched.

  It wasn’t my fault that big horse scared me, Lion seemed to be saying.

  Charlie couldn’t help smiling. “Come on, Lion.”

  “There you are,” said Papa as Charlie slipped in beside him. “Hold Lion close, now.”

  Charlie heard shouts and the pounding of hooves.

  “They’re here,” said Ed grimly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Kansas is ours!”

  “Let’s see how strong the Free State Hotel really is!”

  “Get rid of this fort! Down with treason!”

  The shouts of the Missouri men filled the air. Charlie craned his neck. Everywhere he looked he saw men on horseback, bearing down on the hotel.

  He whispered to Papa, “There are so many.”

  “Maybe eight hundred,” said Papa. “But don’t worry, Charlie. They’re after buildings, not people.”

  Ed nodded. “Everyone in the hotel got out safely.”

  “But can’t we stop them? Can’t we do something?” Charlie cried.

  “Not this time,” Ed said, laying his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Jones is still angry that we defied him last fall, when we rescued Branson. Now he has eight hundred men with him. And the proslavery government is on his side.”

  “But … but … we can’t just stand here!” Charlie said.

  Papa looked at Ed Dillon, but Ed shook his head. “The townspeople talked about it. In the end we figured that if we fought back, Jones would use it as an excuse to burn down the whole town.”

  As Charlie watched, the border ruffians pointed a cannon straight at the Free State Hotel.

  “But the hotel is made of stone,” Charlie said. “They won’t be able to hurt it, will they?”

  Papa put his arm around Charlie’s shoulder. He didn’t say a word.

  Boom! The cannonball flew clear over the roof of the hotel. The townspeople cheered.

  Lion began to whine. The hair on his neck stood straight up. Charlie held him tight. “It’s all right, boy.”

  Boom! The cannon fired again. This time the cannonball hit the hotel, but the walls didn’t crumble.

  “Hurrah!” shouted the townspeople.

  Charlie felt like jumping up and down. “It’s too strong, Papa. They can’t wreck it.”

  “I hope you’re right, Charlie.”

  Sheriff Jones ordered his men to explode a keg of gunpowder inside the hotel.

  Crack! Bang! The air filled with smoke. The hotel still stood. The townspeople cheered once more.

  “Maybe he’ll give up now,” said Charlie.

  “I’m afraid not,” said Wooden Ed, pointing. “Look, they’re trying to burn it down.”

  Papa sighed. “Once the mattresses and beds catch fire, the floors will go.”

  Charlie looked around him. The townspeople had stopped cheering. Slowly the smell of smoke seeped into the air
. Soon Charlie heard a crackling sound coming from inside the hotel. Clouds of smoke billowed overhead.

  Now it was the border ruffians’ turn to cheer and shout. The people of Lawrence knew it was too dangerous to fight Sheriff Jones and his men. Still, it was hard to watch. Charlie saw Papa clenching his fists. Ed Dillon bit his lip so hard it started to bleed.

  Sheriff Jones began to laugh. Charlie heard him say, “I can make these free-state men bow before me in the dust and kiss the laws of Kansas Territory! Come on, men. Let’s go.”

  As the border ruffians were about to leave, one of them wheeled his horse close to Charlie. He pointed at Papa and Ed Dillon. “Hold on a minute. You two look familiar. Weren’t you part of that group of traitors who stole our prisoner last fall?”

  Charlie felt ready to burst. Without thinking, he shouted, “Jacob Branson wasn’t stolen. He was rescued!”

  “That’s enough, Charlie. Hush.” Papa placed a strong hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

  The man shook his rifle at Papa and Ed. “Well, if you were there that night, you’re lucky you haven’t been arrested yet. Watch out!”

  He spurred his horse, and galloped off.

  Charlie swallowed hard. “Will that man have you arrested, Papa?”

  “I don’t think so, Charlie.” Papa said softly. “We’re not well-known leaders like the others.”

  Ed Dillon chewed his lip. “That’s so. But maybe we should lie low for a few days. My sister has a place out of the way, twenty miles north of town.”

  Papa shook his head. “Ed, I can’t leave my claim, especially now. Sarah would be alone with four children, including a baby.”

  “Your wife would want you to be safe, James,” insisted Ed.

  Charlie looked from Mr. Dillon to Papa Suddenly Charlie knew what he had to say.

  “Papa, go with Mr. Dillon, please,” he pleaded. “You can’t take a chance. You must hide!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I’m ready, Papa,” said Charlie.

  It was late afternoon. The Free State Hotel was a charred shell. The border ruffians had smashed both newspaper presses. They had stolen food and horses. And they’d burned down the home of Charles Robinson, one of the town’s leaders.

 

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