Prentice Alvin: The Tales of Alvin Maker, Volume III Read Online Free PDF Page B

nothing or I’ll tell the truth, Papa.”
    “Then I’ll stay up here and pray the good Lord saves my life by not letting her notice you leaving. We’ll meet up at Hatrack Mouth come sundown.”
    “Can’t we—”
    “No we can’t, not a minute sooner,” he said. “Can’t cross the river till dark. If they catch her or she dies afore we get there then it’s just too bad, cause we can’t cross the Hio in the daylight, bet your life on that.”
     
    Noise in the forest, this scare Black slavegirl very bad. Trees grab her, owls screech out telling where they find her, this river just laugh at her all along. She can’t move cause she fall in the dark, she hurt this baby. She can’t stay cause they find her sure.
Flying don’t fool them finders, they look far and see her even a hand of hands away off.
    A step for sure. Oh, Lord God Jesus save me from this devil in the dark.
    A step, and breathing, and branches they brush aside. But no lantern! Whatever come it see me in the dark! Oh. Lord God Moses Savior Abraham.
    “Girl.”
    That voice, I hear that voice, I can’t breathe. Can you hear it, little boy-baby? Or do I dream this voice? This lady voice, very soft lady voice. Devil got no lady voice, everybody know, ain’t that so?
    “Girl, I come to take you across the river and help you and your baby get north and free.”
    I don’t find no words no more, net slave words or Umbawa talk. When I put on feathers do I lose my words?
    “We got a good stout rowboat and two strong men to row. I know you understand me and I know you trust me and I know you want to come. So you just set there, girl, you hold my hand. there, that’s my hand. you don’t have to say a word, you just hold my hand. There’s some White men but they’re my friends and they won’t touch you. Nobody’s going to touch you except me, you believe that, girl, you just believe it.”
    Her hand it touch my skin very cool and soft like this lady voice. This lady angel. this Holy Virgin Mother of God.
    Lots of steps, heavy steps, and now lanterns and lights and big old White men but this lady she just hold on my hand.
    “Scared plumb to death.”
    “Look at this girl. She’s most wasted away to nothing.”
    “How many days she been without eating?”
    Big men’s voices like White Boss who give her this baby.
    “She only left her plantation last night,” said the Lady.
    How this White lady know? She know everything, Eve the mama of all babies. No time to talk, no time to pray, move very quick, lean on this White lady, walk and walk and walk to this boat it lie
waiting in the water just like I dream, O! here the boat little boy-baby, boat lift us cross the Jordan to the Promise Land.
     
    They were halfway across the river when the Black girl started shaking and crying and chattering.
    “Hush her up,” said Horace Guester.
    “There’s nobody near us,” answered Peggy. “No one to hear.”
    “What’s she babbling about?” asked Po Doggly. He was a pig farmer from near Hatrack mouth and for a moment Peggy thought he was talking about her. But no, it was the Black girl he meant.
    “She’s talking in her African tongue, I reckon,” said Peggy. “This girl is really something, how she got away.”
    “With a baby and all,” agreed Po.
    “Oh, the baby,” said Peggy. “I’ve got to hold the baby.”
    “Why’s that?” asked Papa.
    “Because you’re both going to have to carry her,” she said. “From shore to the wagon, at least. There’s no way this child can walk another step.”
    When they got to shore, they did just that. Po’s old wagon was no great shakes for comfort—one old horseblanket was about as soft as it was going to get—but they laid her out and if she minded she didn’t say so. Horace held the lantern high and looked at her. “You’re plumb right, Peggy.”
    “What about?” she asked.
    “Calling her a child. I swear she couldn’t be thirteen. I swear it. And her with a baby. You sure this baby’s