Underground to Canada

by Barbara Smucker

  The woman handed them the clothes and two bundles of food.

  “You change clothes now and then go.” She said the words slowly and with difficulty. “Slave hunters in the valley. Go high to the mountains—then north.”

  The girls scrambled into their clothes. They hooked the bundles of food over their arms.

  “You Abolitionists?” Julilly asked, stumbling through the long word with great difficulty.

  “No, Mennonites,” the woman said. “This place we built away from people. It is Felsheim, Tennessee.”

  “It must be like a church,” Liza explained to Julilly as they started toward a thickly wooded area on the mountainside. “My daddy is a Baptist.”

  “God bless you,” the woman called from the row of clean cabins in the green valley.

  Julilly and Liza didn’t know how to express their gratitude to this kind lady. They couldn’t even talk about it to each other. Human kindness from the villagers of Felsheim had negated a little of the human cruelty that had made them slaves. It was hard to know how to accept these offerings from white folks.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THERE WASN’T MUCH DANGER from slave catchers on the high mountain paths at night. But even without them, this wild place was terrifying and strange for Julilly and Liza. High-pitched animal cries that they had never heard before echoed in and out of the tall black mountain peaks. Their path sometimes became “slim as the string bindin’ a cotton bale,” as Liza exclaimed.

  The girls held onto one another and once Julilly had to grab a swaying tree limb to keep from slipping down the mountain’s side. Liza fell against her, hanging to her waist. They climbed up again on their hands and knees.

  “If that North Star wasn’t up there steady, beckonin’ to us,” Julilly shuddered, “I couldn’t go on.”

  Before long, a strange, nervous wind began to blow. It skittered about—twirling up the stones along the path—then jumping into the trees and making ugly, swaying brushes of the giant pines.

  A cloud smashed across the moon and erased their path. It was dark now, as dark as the deep end of a cave. The air began to chill. Julilly and Liza stopped climbing and held onto the trunk of the nearest tree. The wind lashed around them like a slave owner’s whip.

  Someplace near by there was a long, cracking noise and then a thud. When the flashes of lightning came, Julilly and Liza could see a giant tree, torn from the earth with its raw, useless roots exposed to the storm. Thunder pounded in the sky, and then rain swept down like moving, walls of water. Another flash of lightning. This time the girls saw a flat place close at hand, shielded by an overhanging rock.

  “Get all the tree limbs you can find, Liza, and pile them under that rock,” Julilly screamed above the wind.

  The pile grew high. They dragged heavy limbs that could not blow away.

  “Now we’ll dig a place under this rock,” Julilly screamed again.

  They scraped and grovelled. Their hands bled; but a small shelter did take shape, big enough for the two of them to squeeze inside. They shoved their bundles ahead of them.

  “It’s dry in here.” Liza rubbed her hands over the ground.

  But their newly-patched clothes dripped with water, and they chilled each time the wind blew through their makeshift hovel. There was nothing to do but take their clothes off, wring the water from them as best they could, and hang them over branches that were still dry. They covered themselves with pine needles and bunches of dried leaves and dug deeper with sticks into the dry earth.

  They lay down close to each other for warmth. Somehow they slept, and when they woke the wind had stopped blowing.

  Mountain birds chirped their early morning songs and a faintly pink sun spread shyly across the sky. The girls peered through their shelter of branches. Fallen limbs and scattered leaves crisscrossed over the ground.

  “Looks like somebody stirred the whole place up with a big wooden spoon.” Julilly pushed her head clear of the branch above her.

  “Nobody is gonna come lookin’ for run-away slaves in this mess.” Liza shook the still damp clothes and hung them carefully over a limb in the warming air.

  The sun rose. It was humid and hot. The damp clothes steamed, and then blew stiff and dry. Gratefully the girls dressed and ate a small amount of the food packed for them by the good women of Felsheim.

  “We’d best walk in the daylight,” Julilly said. “There’s no paths left and no signs of people.”

  “Tryin’ to step over all these sticks and stones when nighttime comes is more than my two legs can manage,” Liza agreed.

  They decided to stay near the covering trees at all times and take cover at once if any stir of life was heard around them. They trudged along whatever trails they could find. Sometimes furry little animals jumped across their path, but the wild beasts that howled in the night seemed to take cover for the day. The girls climbed on and on, only stopping for drinks from the flooded mountain streams. Their guide was the needle of the compass which never left Julilly’s hand.

  The land was getting flatter and flatter, and the protecting mountain peaks were behind them. That night they rested uneasily in a cornfield near a road.

  In the very early morning, Julilly saw an old coloured man hobbling along the road, pulling a cart behind him. She crawled quickly from their hideout and walked up to him. She had no fear of this ancient white-haired, black-faced man.

  “Can you tell me what town I’m comin’ to next?” she asked.

  The old man jumped a little. Julilly startled him. It seemed as if he had trudged this road a thousand times and never had a black girl bound out right in front of him before. He stopped his cart and looked at her carefully.

  “Lexington, Kentucky,” he answered kindly. Then he whispered, “You a slave? You runnin’ away?”

  Julilly didn’t have to answer. The old man knew. He looked cautiously down the road behind him as though expecting someone. Then he pulled his cart to the side of the road and lowered the handles to the ground. He reached inside his loose jacket and drew out a half loaf of bread.

  “This is for you, child,” he said softly. His wise old eyes lighted on her briefly, then focused far away with tired patience.

  “If I was a young man, I’d go ’long,” he said. He peered again down the road. “Hide in those bushes, boy. When night comes follow the railroad tracks to Coving-ton. There’s a free coloured man named Jeb Brown lives there. He’ll get you ’cross the Ohio River in his little boat. You’ve got to cross the Ohio to get to Canada.”

  Julilly was startled when she heard “Canada.” How did the old man know? But she didn’t question him. She held his hand instead and thanked him from her heart.

  The old man’s back was more bent than Liza’s, she noticed. His shabby clothes barely covered it. But he had strong arms and steady feet and he had a pleased look on his face since giving Julilly the bread. He started toward his cart, when a man on horseback swerved around the corner of the road and stopped beside him.

  Julilly ran quickly to the shelter of the corn-field.

  The man on horseback pulled in the reins of his horse and glared down at the old man.

  “What you mean, Joe,” he cried out, “restin’ by the road so early in the morning? Get along there.” He twirled a whip in the air.

  The old man leaned down and picked up the handles of his cart and plodded on down the road.

  Julilly and Liza held each other and sobbed.

  “He’s a slave too,” Julilly cried. “He’ll be hungry today. He gave us all his food.”

  She held the bread gently in both her hands.

  THE GIRLS HID FAR AWAY from the road during the long, hot day. Twice a train passed near by, clanging its bell and hissing its steam. The little compass always pointed north toward the sound. It wouldn’t be hard to find the tracks when night came.

  They nibbled on the old man’s bread and tried some ears of uncooked corn, but there was no water and the food was hard and dry. Late in the af
ternoon some men came walking through the fields. Liza and Julilly lay flat on the ground. The men passed them by, walked toward the road, and disappeared.

  “They gave me a good fright.” Liza’s hands shook as she lifted herself from the ground.

  “I’d say we is havin’ more good luck than bad on this day,” Julilly answered grate-fully.

  Night came early, for clouds collected overhead and changed the sky into a slate-grey lid. The girls crept carefully toward the road and discovered that the silver tracks ran right along the side of it. Tonight it was good that the moon was covered; for there was nothing to hide behind on the open tracks.

  The girls walked on the ties facing the north wind. The tracks cut through fields and forests and it seemed almost that they were silver ropes pulling them on and on and on to Canada.

  Once during the darkest part of night, a train roared and chugged and hissed behind them. They stumbled off the tracks into an empty barn as the earth started to shake. There was hardly time for the girls to see the train before it passed—screeching far ahead of them.

  Julilly felt its speed and thought how fast it could take them north—faster than a bird could fly or a horse run.

  THE TRACKS WERE THEIR GUIDE on a second night. This time the North Star shone steadily above them, but Julilly and Liza were frightened and ill at ease. It was light as day. Anyone could see them striding thong the uncovered tracks. They crept down into a grove of trees, feeling hungry and tired: there had been nothing to eat since they finished the old man’s bread. A field of corn waved in the night wind, its ears hung heavy with grain.

  “We’ll start us a fire and roast some of those ears,” Julilly decided.

  They were starting to gather dry sticks, when a dog came bounding and barking out of the field toward them. They ran for the nearest tree. Julilly lifted Liza up into the lowest branch and then swung herself up beside her. The dog circled and barked around the trunk. The girls were tense and their hearts pounded so fast it was hard to breathe. Could this be a sniffing old slave catcher’s dog, they wondered.

  Then they heard a sharp whistle. The dog stopped barking and began to whine. Footsteps crunched near by.

  “What you chased into that tree, Pal?” a low-pitched voice asked eagerly. “Somethin’ for us to eat?”

  Liza and Julilly looked down. It was a black man!

  “Joy and praise the Lord!” Julilly cried, loud enough for the man to hear.

  “You hush, Julilly”—Liza grabbed her arm— “you trust people too soon.”

  But it was too late to be quiet now.

  “You Jeb Brown?” Julilly called down to him.

  The girls were silent. The man hadn’t answered.

  Finally he said, “No, I ain’t Jeb Brown and I don’t aim to get mixed up with him. It’s a dangerous business he’s in.”

  The girls climbed higher into the tree.

  “Don’t you be afraid of me,” he called to them.

  There was a long silence. Julilly and Liza were still tense and afraid.

  “Now listen to me,” the man said in a low voice. “You come down out of that tree when my dog and me leave. You walk straight ahead through those trees to the north until you hear the running water of the Ohio River. Then you look along the river bank till you see a little house with one candle lighted in the window. That’s all I got to say.”

  The man whistled for his dog and together they crunched into the bush and off into the crackling leaves of a cornfield until there was no sound from them.

  Julilly was the first to speak.

  “That man’s got no more courage than a mouse,” she said. “Let’s climb down from here now and find the real Jeb Brown.”

  They slid down the tree with Julilly keeping a firm grasp on Liza’s arm.

  It was easy to walk north through the grove of trees and then down a row through a cornfield where the leaves twisted with the wind like hundreds of waving arms.

  At the end of the field they heard the steady splash of moving water.

  “The Ohio River, Liza,” Julilly whispered. “We’ve reached the Ohio River!”

  They walked toward the sound, but stopped abruptly when they saw the flickering light of a single candle from the window of a small log cabin.

  “That’s the cabin of Jeb Brown,” Julilly said and started toward it. Liza pulled her back.

  “You believe everybody,” she chided. “That man could be tellin’ lies.”

  Julilly didn’t listen, but dragged Liza with her toward the cabin. When they reached the door, Julilly rapped softly.

  A dog growled inside. Then came a man’s voice.

  “Who’s there?”

  “A friend with friends.” Julilly used the faithful password.

  A door creaked open exposing a big, straight man with crinkly grey hair and coal-black skin. Beside him growled a large brown dog.

  “You Jeb Brown?” Julilly asked.

  “You is speakin’ to the right man,” he said, urging them inside.

  “Quiet, Pal.” He patted the dog’s head and then called, “Ella, we got freight—two packages of dry goods.”

  A sprightly little brown-skinned woman stood there. Her eyes twinkled above the candle which she now carried in her hand. Her white hair was piled about like fresh-picked cotton.

  Julilly looked quickly around the room. The cabin was orderly and clean. It could have been a cabin in Felsheim.

  Jeb hurried about pulling down shades over all the windows. Ella walked behind a cupboard of dishes, motioning for the girls to follow. She pushed against the wall and it opened like a door! Ella and the girls slipped through, followed by Jeb, and the wall closed behind them.

  “You stay out there, Pal,” Jeb said to his dog, “and this time you bark as much as you want if you hear any noises.”

  The room behind the wall was small but cozy. There were mats on the floor and a long spread-out table with benches around it. The only window was above them, cut into the roof.

  “Looks like you were expectin’ us.” Julilly now felt that she could speak out loud.

  Liza slumped to the floor—too tired and hungry to walk another step.

  “Poor child.” Ella leaned over her. She looked closely at her face, then laughed. “I thought you two was girls. We’ve been lookin’ for you since your friends Lester and Adam were here.”

  “Lester and Adam!”

  “Now you two just rest on those mats,” big, kindly Jeb said, settling himself on one of the benches. “I’ll explain about everything, while Ella fixes us some supper.”

  There was no way the girls could rest now. They stood in front of Jeb demanding to know about Lester and Adam at once.

  “Well, they came one night more than a week ago,” Jeb said quietly. “Chains were hangin’ from their wrists. They’d rubbed through the skin and both were bleeding.”

  Julilly closed her eyes wondering if she really wanted to know the rest of the story.

  “Lester had a sprained arm. The big man, Adam, had a swollen foot—so sore he could hardly lift it.”

  “How’d they know to come here?” Julilly was awestruck that all of them should come to this lone cabin on the Ohio River.

  “They came ’cause we’re a station of the Underground Railway,” Jeb answered simply. “Isn’t that why you two came too?”

  Ella interrupted by swinging through the secret door. Her arms held a tray with steaming food. She placed the lighted candle in the centre of the long table and around it spread a feast of fresh venison, warm corn bread, wild honey, milk, and butter.

  They bowed their heads and Jeb prayed. It was a good prayer, full of hope and promise for the end of slavery.

  “Amen,” Liza added at the end of it with deep emotion.

  It was so fine being here with coloured folks to talk with. Silently, Julilly thanked the Lord for this. Now, she and Liza could tell their names without being afraid; they could talk about the Riley plantation, and Mammy Sally, and Liza’s preac
her father. The white folks who’d helped them along the way were good and kind, but it wasn’t the same. Jeb and Ella Brown were like having their own family sitting around.

  Julilly and Liza filled their plates and Jeb told his story—how Lester and Adam had jumped from the slave catcher’s wagon during the night they were captured, into a swamp, even though they were hand-cuffed together. For a whole night they stayed in the water to throw off their scent from the hunting dogs. They rubbed their chain against a jagged rock until it broke and they were free from each other. They drank swamp water and ate water cress. “Lester knew names of folks along the Underground Railway which he’d pledged to Massa Ross to keep secret—even from the two of you.”

  “Those boys were poorly and mighty sick.” Ella interrupted. “I nursed them for a week in this very room. When they could walk, they left. They told us to watch for the two of you.”

  Julilly sat on her mat and cried. She had thought and dreamed of Lester and Adam dragging their heavy chains back to Mississippi. Now Jeb said they might be free right now in Canada. Inside her there was a welled-up fountain of joy. The tears came from its overflowing.

  “But what’s this Underground Railway?” Liza finally asked.

  “You don’t know ’bout the railway?” Jeb laughed. “The slave catchers gave us the name. They said runaway slaves just seem to disappear underground and that there must be a railway down there.”

  “We Abolitionists use the railway all the time,” Ella laughed softly. “Coloured and white folks work together on it. Our homes, where we hide you slaves, are the ‘railway stations.’ The roads you all follow are the ‘tracks.’ You runaway slaves are the ‘freight.’ The women are ‘dry goods’ and the men are ‘hardware.’”

  So that’s why Jeb had announced them as packages of dry goods when they came to his cabin door. Julilly chuckled to herself.

  “We aim to send you from here to the ‘president’ of the Underground Railway, Levi Coffin,” said Ella. “He’s a Quaker and he lives across the river in Cincinnati.”