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Authors: Lois Walfrid Johnson
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board. “I’m glad we’re in Saint Louis where I could find such a mirror,” Pa told her.
While the ship carpenter set the mirror in place, the deckhands finished loading the
Christina
. As a packet boat, she carried both passengers and freight. In addition to the goats that were now penned up, there were barrels filled with sugar, salt, and molasses. Wooden boxes held pots and pans, saws and shovels, wood stoves, candles, and soap.
Some of these needed supplies had come from the Ohio River on steamboats like the
Christina
. Other freight had come up the Mississippi River from New Orleans.
During the afternoon Libby watched from the hurricane deck as passengers streamed on board. Many of them were immigrants who planned to carve out a life in the wilderness for which the Mississippi River offered a road.
As the water in the boilers heated up, smoke poured from the tall stacks. At last the gangplank was pulled in. Whilepassengers found their places in the cabin or on the deck, the
Christina
steamed up the river.
Between ports Libby and Caleb were supposed to get their schooling. When Libby reached the captain’s cabin, Caleb was already there. Once again, they sat at the large table facing each other. Libby wanted to ask him questions, but there was something she had learned: Caleb would not answer unless he wanted to.
When Captain Norstad came through the doorway, Libby felt extra glad to see him. She’d ask him what she wanted to know, and she’d ask in front of Caleb.
At the first opportunity Libby began. “When slaves run away, where do they go?”
“North,” her father answered. “They follow the North Star. When they can, they cross over rivers like the Mississippi or the Ohio into free states.”
“Like Illinois?” Even as she asked, Libby watched Caleb.
Captain Norstad nodded. “From this area, fugitives often travel across Illinois to Chicago or some place near Chicago. If they reach Lake Michigan, a helpful steamer captain hides them on his boat. He takes fugitives to a place where they can pass into Canada.”
“And freedom?” Libby asked. “But how do they get this far?” Libby was still watching Caleb’s face.
“Sometimes they figure out a good escape plan and travel a long distance alone. Other times they find a free black or a white person connected to the Underground Railroad.”
“A railroad? What do you mean?” Libby was starting to think that she knew the answer.
“Usually it isn’t a real railroad, but it can be,” her father explained.“The Underground Railroad is a secret plan to help runaway slaves reach freedom. A house that takes in fugitives is called a
station
. The person who lives there is an
agent
. Whoever leads the runaway to the next safe place is called a
conductor
.”
Aha
! Libby thought. Caleb’s face still offered no hint of what he was thinking. Yet for the first time Libby felt she had gotten the better of him. At least she was able to put some pieces together.
But then her father asked, “Are both of you ready to tell me your ideas about the fugitive slave laws?”
“I am, sir,” Caleb answered quickly.
Libby squirmed in her chair.
“Libby?” her father asked.
Nervously she pulled forward a long strand of red hair. Until yesterday she would have done anything to beat Caleb Whitney in a war of words. Today she didn’t have the heart to try.
“Libby?” the captain asked again.
As Libby twisted the hair around her finger, she decided what to say. “I’m not ready, Pa.”
“Do you need more time?”
“Even if you gave me more time, it wouldn’t help. I don’t want to talk about the law.”
“Oh?” Captain Norstad shot a glance toward Caleb, then looked back at Libby. “I think you’d do a good job of telling me your ideas. Why don’t you want to try?”
Libby opened her mouth. She wanted to say, “Because I saw a slave auction.” But she saw Caleb’s look. In Saint Louis he had dared her to tell her father. If she
While the ship carpenter set the mirror in place, the deckhands finished loading the
Christina
. As a packet boat, she carried both passengers and freight. In addition to the goats that were now penned up, there were barrels filled with sugar, salt, and molasses. Wooden boxes held pots and pans, saws and shovels, wood stoves, candles, and soap.
Some of these needed supplies had come from the Ohio River on steamboats like the
Christina
. Other freight had come up the Mississippi River from New Orleans.
During the afternoon Libby watched from the hurricane deck as passengers streamed on board. Many of them were immigrants who planned to carve out a life in the wilderness for which the Mississippi River offered a road.
As the water in the boilers heated up, smoke poured from the tall stacks. At last the gangplank was pulled in. Whilepassengers found their places in the cabin or on the deck, the
Christina
steamed up the river.
Between ports Libby and Caleb were supposed to get their schooling. When Libby reached the captain’s cabin, Caleb was already there. Once again, they sat at the large table facing each other. Libby wanted to ask him questions, but there was something she had learned: Caleb would not answer unless he wanted to.
When Captain Norstad came through the doorway, Libby felt extra glad to see him. She’d ask him what she wanted to know, and she’d ask in front of Caleb.
At the first opportunity Libby began. “When slaves run away, where do they go?”
“North,” her father answered. “They follow the North Star. When they can, they cross over rivers like the Mississippi or the Ohio into free states.”
“Like Illinois?” Even as she asked, Libby watched Caleb.
Captain Norstad nodded. “From this area, fugitives often travel across Illinois to Chicago or some place near Chicago. If they reach Lake Michigan, a helpful steamer captain hides them on his boat. He takes fugitives to a place where they can pass into Canada.”
“And freedom?” Libby asked. “But how do they get this far?” Libby was still watching Caleb’s face.
“Sometimes they figure out a good escape plan and travel a long distance alone. Other times they find a free black or a white person connected to the Underground Railroad.”
“A railroad? What do you mean?” Libby was starting to think that she knew the answer.
“Usually it isn’t a real railroad, but it can be,” her father explained.“The Underground Railroad is a secret plan to help runaway slaves reach freedom. A house that takes in fugitives is called a
station
. The person who lives there is an
agent
. Whoever leads the runaway to the next safe place is called a
conductor
.”
Aha
! Libby thought. Caleb’s face still offered no hint of what he was thinking. Yet for the first time Libby felt she had gotten the better of him. At least she was able to put some pieces together.
But then her father asked, “Are both of you ready to tell me your ideas about the fugitive slave laws?”
“I am, sir,” Caleb answered quickly.
Libby squirmed in her chair.
“Libby?” her father asked.
Nervously she pulled forward a long strand of red hair. Until yesterday she would have done anything to beat Caleb Whitney in a war of words. Today she didn’t have the heart to try.
“Libby?” the captain asked again.
As Libby twisted the hair around her finger, she decided what to say. “I’m not ready, Pa.”
“Do you need more time?”
“Even if you gave me more time, it wouldn’t help. I don’t want to talk about the law.”
“Oh?” Captain Norstad shot a glance toward Caleb, then looked back at Libby. “I think you’d do a good job of telling me your ideas. Why don’t you want to try?”
Libby opened her mouth. She wanted to say, “Because I saw a slave auction.” But she saw Caleb’s look. In Saint Louis he had dared her to tell her father. If she
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