Our Kansas Home

by Deborah Hopkinson

  “Don’t worry, Papa. Remember, Lion and I have gone home alone before,” Charlie said. “It’s only a few miles.”

  Papa hesitated. “It’s more dangerous now.”

  “It might be dangerous on the road. That’s why I won’t take the wagon. Lion and I will hide in the grass if we see anyone. I won’t have anything the border ruffians can steal,” said Charlie.

  Charlie drew himself up as tall as he could, and looked into Papa’s eyes. “Papa, I can do this. Besides, Lion will warn me if anyone comes near.”

  Lion barked once.

  “Your boy’s growing up, James,” Ed said to Papa.

  “I shouldn’t have brought you with me, Charlie,” Papa said with a sigh. “You’re only nine.”

  Wooden Ed slapped his knee and laughed. “What do you mean, only nine? Why, nine is pretty near grown around these parts. Charlie’s got a good head on his shoulders. Besides, he’s got the fiercest-lookin’ guard dog west of the Mississippi!”

  At the moment Lion didn’t look fierce at all. In fact he was scratching his ear with his hind leg. Charlie couldn’t help smiling.

  I do have a good head on my shoulders, Charlie told himself. I can do this.

  “Tell Momma I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Papa said.

  Charlie reached into his pocket and handed Papa the two dollars. As he did, his fingers touched the tiny piece of metal.

  “I never got Sadie that stick of candy she wanted,” said Charlie.

  “Someday I hope Lawrence will be safe enough that Sadie can come and choose her own candy,” Papa replied.

  He patted Charlie’s arm. “Be careful, Charlie.”

  “I’m sure the border ruffians have all headed back to Franklin to celebrate their victory,” Ed Dillon added. “Believe me, all they’ll be thinking about tonight is whiskey.”

  Franklin! Charlie frowned. “Papa, my Mend Flory lives in Franklin. Will she and her father be safe?”

  Flory and her father were from Missouri. But Flory’s father wasn’t like the border ruffians. Mr. Morgan believed the future of Kansas should be decided by voting, not by fighting.

  “Don’t worry about Flory and her father, Charlie,” Papa told him. “The border ruffians won’t bother them.”

  As he hugged his father good-bye, Charlie hoped Papa was right.

  Swish, swish. Swish, swish.

  Charlie pushed his way through the prairie grass; he could recognize different kinds now: big bluestem and little bluestem, wild rye, switchgrass, and sharp-edged cordgrass. Soon the grass would be taller than he was.

  Charlie stopped and looked across the prairie. Most days it took his breath away The grass waved, and ribbons of wildflowers fluttered.

  He longed to go exploring. He wanted to send wildflowers pressed in a letter to Grandpa. Grandpa would love bluets and prairie violets, sundrops and primroses.

  But I can’t look at flowers today, Charlie thought. Instead he made himself be as alert as a deer. He watched the road, ready to pounce into the brush and hide if anyone appeared.

  I used to roam and dream for hours, Charlie thought. But now I’ve learned to keep my wits about me.

  “We’re safe so far,” Charlie said to Lion. “Maybe Wooden Ed was right. The border ruffians must have all gone back to their camp.”

  The sun began to sink, turning the sky a deep rose. It would be dark soon. Charlie walked faster. He didn’t want to take a chance of being lost at night on the prairie.

  Suddenly Lion shot out ahead.

  “Lion, come back!” Charlie ran to catch up.

  Lion planted his feet in front of some low bushes and began to whine softly.

  Something is in there, Charlie realized. But what? It might be a rabbit or a prairie chicken. Or even a rattlesnake.

  Charlie tried to grab Lion to pull him back. But Lion wouldn’t budge. He whined again.

  Slowly, slowly, Charlie leaned down. He pushed away a branch and peered into the bushes.

  A pair of eyes stared straight back at him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Charlie jumped back, startled.

  Lion barked. The person drew back into the bushes, cringing in fear. Charlie took a breath. He bent down and looked again.

  It was a young woman, a girl, really. A girl with dark skin.

  At first Charlie felt confused. Who was she? Why was she hiding?

  Charlie gulped. He leaned forward and whispered, “Um … hello. I’m Charlie. Charlie Keller.”

  No answer.

  Lion whined. He sniffed at the girl’s legs. She gasped and drew back farther.

  Charlie noticed that the girl’s feet were bare. Her legs were covered with scratches and bites.

  And then all at once Charlie understood.

  A runaway! The girl was a runaway slave!

  Charlie grabbed hold of Lion. “He’s friendly. He won’t hurt you.”

  The girl stared back at him. Charlie thought that at any minute she would spring up and run away. He kept talking.

  “I’m hiding, too, in a way,” Charlie told her. “I don’t want to meet any border ruffians on the road. On account of my family are free-soilers.”

  Charlie paused. “You can trust me, miss.”

  The young girl in the bushes didn’t take her eyes off Charlie and Lion. At last she said softly, “I’m heading for a town called Lawrence. But there’ve been all sorts of men ridin’ up and down the road.”

  Her voice surprised Charlie. It had a soft, sweet rhythm, like water flowing over stones.

  “Those are the border ruffians,” Charlie told her. “They’ve gone back to their camp now, I think. But there was bad trouble in Lawrence today.

  “You could come with me,” he offered. “To our cabin at Spring Creek. We can get there by walking across the fields. You would be safe there. My momma will know what to do.”

  Charlie hoped that this was true. He had heard Papa and Momma talk about folks in Lawrence hiding runaway slaves. But would Momma be willing to hide this girl?

  The girl looked doubtful. “You sure?”

  Charlie nodded. He waited. Would she decide to trust him?

  Slowly the girl crawled out from under the bushes. She was very thin, with warm brown skin. Her dress was a faded green. She carried a small bundle tied up in a blue cloth.

  Lion came close to sniff her. The girl backed away. Lion plopped down and rolled on his back. He pawed the air, begging to have his belly scratched.

  “He likes you. He’s a nice dog,” Charlie assured her.

  The girl shook her head. “I don’t like dogs.”

  Then she looked at Charlie and said, “I’m Lizzie. I want to go to Canada.”

  Lion went first, then Charlie. Lizzie followed behind. Charlie kept turning to make sure she was there. He was afraid she might turn around and run into the darkness. Or maybe her feet hurt and she was just tired and hungry.

  By the time they reached the cabin, the stars were out, thousands of them in clusters like prairie wild-flowers.

  At the cabin door, Charlie glanced back at the girl.

  “Come in. It’s all right,” he whispered.

  Lizzie stepped back into the darkness. “I’ll wait. If it’s safe, you come back.”

  Charlie opened the door.

  “Momma,” he said softly.

  Momma was nursing Baby Henry in their one good chair, a wooden rocker that Ed Dillon had made.

  Instantly she jumped up. “What’s kept you and Papa? I must have dozed off. I didn’t hear the wagon.”

  Sadie and Ida Jane were already asleep on their mattress of prairie hay. But when the door opened, Ida Jane sat up and nibbed her eyes.

  Charlie wasn’t sure what to tell first. “Momma, I’m not alone. Someone is here. She needs our help.”

  Then Charlie stepped out and drew Lizzie inside.

  Lizzie blinked in the lantern light. Momma rose up out of her chair, shifted the sleeping baby to her shoulder, and walked toward them.

  “Cha
rlie, where is Papa? Is he all right?” she whispered in a frightened voice. “And who is this?”

  Charlie rushed to explain. “Papa’s fine. But the border ruffians attacked Lawrence today. They burned the Free State Hotel. They smashed the newspaper office, too. I saw it myself.”

  Charlie stopped for a breath. “One of the border ruffians recognized Papa and Mr. Dillon. They’ve been arresting all the free-state leaders. So Mr. Dillon thought he and Papa should hide for a few days.”

  Ida Jane bounded out of bed and stood next to Momma. “What did you do then, Charlie? Was it awfully exciting?”

  Ida Jane looked at Lizzie. “I’m Ida Jane. I’m eleven, the oldest. Who are you?”

  “Hush, Ida Jane,” ordered Momma. “Go on, Charlie. Tell it in your own time.”

  “Well, Papa and Mr. Dillon took our wagon and went to stay at Mr. Dillon’s sister’s farm. Papa was afraid the border ruffians might steal the wagon and the supplies if I drove it home,” Charlie explained.

  Momma turned toward the stranger. “And what is your name?”

  “Lizzie, ma’am.”

  “Lizzie was trying to get to Lawrence,” Charlie put in. “But there were too many border ruffians riding up and down the road.”

  “I see,” said Momma. She fell silent, frowning.

  Charlie waited, holding his breath. Momma understands Lizzie is a runaway, he thought. But what would Momma do? Would she let Lizzie stay?

  “I’ve heard some folks in Lawrence are active in the underground railroad, helping runaways get north to Canada,” said Momma “Back in Massachusetts, it was easy to be brave,” she went on, shifting the baby on her shoulder. “Here we could go to jail for taking in a runaway slave.”

  Momma moved closer and put out her hand to Lizzie. “But there is only one thing to do. Lizzie, you must stay. Whatever happens, we will help you the best we can.”

  Charlie let out his breath at last.

  At that moment Sadie sat up in bed and looked around.

  “Charlie,” she said in an accusing voice. “You forgot my candy, didn’t you?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “That was delicious. Thank you, ma’am,” said Lizzie, mopping up the last bite of rabbit stew with a biscuit.

  Charlie nodded. “It tasted wonderful, Momma”

  “I kept it warm, since I was expecting you and Papa,” Momma said with a sigh. She had put Baby Henry to bed and bustled to feed Lizzie and Charlie. Ida Jane had warmed some water so Lizzie could soak the blisters on her feet.

  “Lizzie, tomorrow we’ll get word to our neighbors, the Engles. They may be able to help you get to Canada,” said Momma.

  “What if someone comes looking for Lizzie?” asked Ida Jane. will we do then?”

  “You’re right, Ida Jane. We need a plan.” Momma thought a minute. “Here’s what we’ll do. I will take to my bed with the chills. I’ll have Baby Henry bundled beside me, and every blanket and quilt we own piled on the bed.”

  Charlie was puzzled. “I don’t understand, Momma.”

  But Ida Jane clapped her hands. “Lizzie can be hiding under the covers. The way Sadie likes to snuggle up with Momma on a cold morning.”

  Momma nodded. “That’s the idea. No man would dare disturb a sick mother and a baby.” She turned to Lizzie. “Would you be willing to hide in the bed if someone comes?”

  Lizzie nodded. She smiled for the first time. “It will be easy for me, ma’am. I’m skinny as a rail.”

  “Now repeat what I told you, Charlie,” ordered Momma early the next morning, as she fried eggs and potatoes, and set a pan of biscuits to bake.

  “If anyone stops us, we tell them our papa is away and our mother is sick with fever,” Charlie said. He knew no one would question that. Lots of people in Kansas had the fever.

  Ida Jane tied on her bonnet. “Then we tell them we’re headed to our neighbors to get help. But we’re really going to ask Mr. Engle if he knows anyone who can help Lizzie get to Canada.”

  Sadie took a bite of egg. She frowned and chewed slowly. “Momma, are you sick with the fever?”

  “Oh, no, Sadie Sunshine,” said Momma, patting Sadie’s curls. “But we do need our neighbors’ help.”

  Charlie and Ida Jane glanced at each other. Sadie was only five. Could she understand how important it was to keep quiet about Lizzie, if anyone came to the door?

  Charlie thought Momma must have been worried about the same thing, for Momma leaned over and put her hands on Sadie’s shoulders.

  “Sadie, if anyone does come, you must be as still as a mouse, no matter what happens,” Momma said sternly. “This is very important. You must not tell anyone Lizzie is here, or that you have ever seen her. Lizzie’s life could depend on it. Do you understand?”

  Sadie nodded and looked at Lizzie. Her lip trembled and she whispered, “I promise, Momma.”

  Then Sadie buried her face in Momma’s dress and began to cry.

  Charlie was glad to have Ida Jane’s company on the walk, especially since Momma wanted to keep Lion at home.

  “Lion will be our watchdog. He’ll warn us if anyone comes,” Momma had said.

  Charlie stood in front of his dog and spoke firmly. “Momma is depending on you, Lion.”

  Lion seemed to understand. He sat straight without moving, and watched Charlie and Ida Jane walk away. Charlie looked back at him proudly.

  “I hope I get to ride in a wagon at night and help Lizzie escape,” Ida Jane said as the cabin disappeared from view. “All the exciting things have been happening to you, Charlie. I want something to happen to me, too.”

  Charlie pointed. “Maybe it will. Look, someone’s riding toward us.”

  Ida Jane squinted in the sun. “It’s only Mr. Engle.”

  “Ida Jane! Charlie! Where’s your father?” called Mr. Engle, pulling up his horse.

  “Papa’s away. He’s hiding so the border ruffians won’t arrest him,” Ida Jane told him.

  Mr. Engle spoke quickly. “Run back and warn your mother. I hear border ruffians may be headed this way. They’ve been roaming the countryside since dawn, stealing every chicken and cow they can get their hands on.”

  Mr. Engle turned his horse’s head. “Try to hide your stock. I’ve got to get home and do the same.”

  Ida Jane stretched out her hand. “Wait, Mr. Engle! We were coming to see you. We have … a friend at our house. A friend who wants to go to Canada.”

  “Until this business settles down, the ‘railroad’ won’t be running,” Mr. Engle told them, spurring his horse. “Do the best you can for now. Later in the summer we can help.”

  Chickens and cows, chickens and cows!

  How can we get all the chickens and cows hidden? Charlie wondered. And what about Lizzie?

  “Ida Jane,” he gasped as their feet pounded the dirt. “Sadie and Momma have more than twenty baby chicks. And there’s Annie and her calf. How can we hide them?”

  Ida Jane’s bonnet was tipped over one eye. Her long braids bounced on her shoulders as she ran. “Don’t talk to me, I’m thinking!”

  Charlie tried to come up with a plan, too. But all he could picture in his mind were the awful things he had seen in Lawrence: the smashed printing press and flames shooting from the Free State Hotel.

  The cabin was still and quiet. We’re safe so far, Charlie thought.

  “Momma, Momma!” Ida Jane shouted as they came closer. “Mr. Engle says the border ruffians are coming! They’re looking to steal chickens and cows. We need flour sacks.”

  Momma rushed out of the cabin with the baby in her arms. Her face was pale.

  “I have an idea,” Ida Jane gasped. “Sadie and I can scoop up some of the hens and chicks into flour sacks. We’ll run to the woods near the creek, and hide in the blackberry thicket. They’ll never find us in the thick brush.”

  Charlie stared at his sister. Chickens in flour sacks? What a crazy idea!

  But Momma nodded. “Why not? Don’t take them all, though. The men will suspect somet
hing if they see an empty coop.”

  Ida Jane ran for the sacks. “Come on, Sadie, you can help. We’re going to save your favorite chickens.”

  “What about Annie?” asked Charlie. “How can we hide Annie and her calf?”

  Momma froze. Annie was her prized possession. Momma had been determined to get a cow so that they could have fresh milk and butter.

  “Maybe I can take the cows and try to hide them down by the creek, too,” Charlie offered.

  Charlie ran to the stable. He managed to get a rope on Annie and her calf.

  “I’ll hide the milk pails. And I’ll cover the ground with hay to hide any trace of them,” said Lizzie, who had run in behind him to help. “You can say your pa is in town with the oxen. They might not guess you have cows, too.”

  Charlie nodded. “Good idea.”

  They were just coming out of the stable leading the cows when Lion leaped to his feet and began to bark. In the distance Charlie spotted a cloud of dust. “They’re coming.”

  “Ida Jane. Run, now!” yelled Momma

  Squawk! Cheep! Cheep!

  Squawk! Cheep! Cheep!

  Ida Jane and Sadie disappeared into the high prairie grass, dragging two wriggling sacks of squawking chickens behind them.

  Charlie felt his heart pounding hard. He looked from Momma to Lizzie. “What should we do? There’s not enough time to get the cows to the creek.”

  “The most important thing is to hide Lizzie,” cried

  Momma “I’m afraid we can’t save the cows.”

  “Wait, ma’am,” said Lizzie. “Why not put the cows where no one will expect them to be?”

  And then she told them her plan.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Charlie held his tiny brother while Momma dragged her wooden rocking chair outside. She grabbed a quilt and the pan of leftover biscuits. She settled herself into the chair and reached up for the baby.

  “It’s lucky he’s such a lazy baby,” said Charlie. “He can sleep through anything.”