Acts of Courage Read online

  He glanced down the road where the soldiers had gone. Then, as he turned to leave, he looked at Laura and hesitated. He stood still for a minute and then, reluctantly, slumped down onto a fallen limb. He sat there, staring ahead as the snow began to fall thick on the ground.

  “Well, maybe it’s not such a bad idea,” he mumbled.

  Laura led the ragged boy through the snow, across the field in the direction of Thomas and Levi’s house, where Laura knew they’d find a place for the boy to hide. As they walked past Laura’s home, the wind picked up from the north and cut them right to the bone with cold.

  “It’s not far,” she said, although the farm was almost a mile away. Then, without warning, the boy stumbled and fell face first into the deep snow. Laura held out her mittened hand to help him, but he brushed the snow from his face and struggled to his feet by himself.

  A few minutes later, he stumbled again and this time let Laura help. Her hand in his, Laura pulled him along, and by the time they staggered into the Mayos’ yard, the boy collapsed into a snowbank at the foot of their lane. Laura left him half-conscious while she walked on up the lane to the house and knocked on the back kitchen door.

  A chair scraped on the rough floorboards, footsteps came toward her, and the door creaked open. Thomas poked his nose out. “Laura Ingersoll! Whatever are you doing here at this hour? Hey, Levi, it’s little Laura! Maybe she’s brought over another stray.”

  They always teased her about that sick kitten she’d brought them, and then found it was a baby raccoon. But she ignored the remark and beckoned Thomas out onto the stone stoop. “I’ve brought a farm lad who needs help.” She knew the Mayo family were sympathetic toward the rebels. In fact, she’d even heard Sam say that the boys might have been involved in Shay’s uprising.

  Thomas stopped himself in the middle of a snicker. “I’ll get Levi, and we’ll be right out.” He left the door ajar as he stepped back inside.

  Still struggling to get into their wool coats, the Mayo brothers hurried out onto the back stoop and followed Laura to where the boy was lying in a crumpled heap in the snow. They rolled him over onto his back and felt for his pulse. He made only a few groaning sounds.

  “This boy’s suffering from frostbite and exposure. We’ll have to get him warm,” Thomas said.

  “We don’t dare take him into the barn or even the house,” Levi explained to her. “Lincoln’s calling in more militia. It seems a number escaped today, and they’ll be scouring the countryside. The word is they’re going to make examples of all these fellows, and squash the rebellion once and for all.”

  “I have it!” said Thomas. “We’ll take him to the potato hole. Levi, you go back and get a pot of live coals. That’ll give us enough heat. I’ll get a straw pallet to lie on and we’ll be warm enough.”

  “You’re not planning to stay with him, are you, Thomas?” Levi asked.

  “Of course I am. He’ll need someone. He’s not in good shape. He might not make it through the night.”

  Laura sat shivering beside the boy. Was he asleep or unconscious? She pulled together the pieces of his torn doeskin sleeve and wished she had her needle and thread. She would bring them in the morning, she decided. The boy would have to hide out for a few days until the hunt was over.

  When the brothers finally returned with the pallet and coals, they rubbed snow on the boy’s face to bring him out of his faint. He opened his eyes and looked at them in a daze as they hauled him up onto his feet. His red hair fell out from under his wool cap. Laura walked behind as Thomas and Levi each took one arm and guided the boy across the snow-covered yard to the hill behind the house, where a potato hole had been dug.

  “What’s your name?” Thomas asked the boy.

  “Red!” Laura answered for him.

  “That’s not. . . ,” the boy grumbled. Then he mumbled, “Yes, Red. That’s fine.”

  “Not surpising how you got that name,” said Levi.

  “I’m glad it’s snowing like this,” said Thomas. “It’ll cover our tracks.”

  “Do your parents know—about the boy?” Laura asked.

  “No, but they’d help him if they were here. They’ve gone over to old Mrs. Sloan’s. She took sick late this afternoon. But it’s best we hide him here anyway ’cause the militia will be searching through barns all night. They might even check out the house since Ma and Pa aren’t home. But they’ll be back in the morning. Pa’ll know what to do.”

  The entrance to the potato hole was small, about three feet by two. Thomas crawled in first and reached back for the boy, who had just enough strength left to worm his way inside behind him.

  Levi loosely nailed the boards back to seal the entrance, and packed snow all around to hide them from sight.

  “They’ll be snug in there,” he said to Laura. “I’ll take food out to them first thing in the morning.”

  “Thank you, Levi,” said Laura, turning to leave.

  “Wait,” Levi called after her.

  “I must go. They’ll miss me.”

  “I’ll walk with you till we see your house lights. This storm is getting worse. I wouldn’t want you lost.”

  They plodded along in silence through the deepening snow.

  FOUR

  Laura shivered into her long wool stockings, and fumbled over her knee garters with cold, stiff fingers. She drew her short gown over her shift, tied on her two pockets, which were held by a drawstring around her waist, and covered them as fast as she could with her two petticoats. The outer thick one was quilted. She looked across the room at her sister, who was sleeping soundly in the morning light. Mira was warm and snug in her bed, not like Red, who even now might be freezing in the potato hole with Thomas. As soon as she was fully awake, Laura could only think of the rebel boy and how she would have to get over to the Mayos’ to see how he was doing. She sat down and put on her calf-high moccasins. On her way past the dresser, she took a needle and a spool of tough thread from the top right-hand drawer and tucked them into one of her pockets. She’d mend that boy’s clothes.

  Bett was already in the kitchen, singing as she kneaded dough on the baking table. “Help yourself to some porridge, child,” Bett said without turning around. “Your father came home last night, or I should say this mornin’. He was plenty done in. He’d been huntin’ down them rebels all night. Seems they had quite a fight yesterday.”

  “Where?”

  “Down somewhere near Egremont. Their leader was wounded pretty badly, they say. Five men was killed, including two government men—and also that teacher from over Stockbridge way. Poor devil. He wasn’t any part of it at all. He’d begun his day peaceful in his own classroom afore he was dragged off. But they caught most of ’em.”

  “What’ll happen to them?”

  “They’ll hang ’em sure. What with their thievin’ along the way, folks has no sympathy for ’em.”

  “When did Father come home?”

  “I don’t rightly know, but it wasn’t long ago. He said the storm had blown out all tracks, and he’d best wait till mornin’ to carry on the hunt. He’ll probably be up soon, though the poor man looked plum worn out. I hope he sleeps for awhile.”

  Laura walked over to the washbasin that sat on a wooden stand near the back door. “He won’t be here long,” she said gloomily. “He never ever is.”

  “One of these days, your father will be home more. He will.” Bett patted Laura’s shoulder. “It just takes time after a war to return things to normal. He’s workin’ on it. He’s had his own trouble, too. What with your mother passin’ away so sudden, and now married again and his young wife ailin’ so much, it’s not been an easy life for the captain.”

  Laura knew that, but still she wondered about her father’s part in the battle that had gone on the day before. “Did he say much a
bout yesterday, Bett?”

  “Not much. Just said they still had to find some of those fellows.”

  “Maybe those men have a right to rebel.” Laura sometimes thought out loud when she was talking to Bett, but this time she even surprised herself with her boldness. What if her father had heard her?

  “Your poor father is terrible torn up, sympathizing with the farmers ’bout here and their situation and all. Still, it’s no excuse for lawlessness. An’ your father’s not ’bout to put up with it.”

  Laura finished her porridge silently. When Bett was busy cutting the bread dough into pieces for loaves, she grabbed her cloak and slipped out to the front hallway. She could feel the extra mittens and stockings she had stuffed in the pockets of her cloak the evening before.

  “Where are you goin’, Laura?” It was surprising how Bett could always see behind herself.

  “To feed my calf,” Laura said and stepped out the back door to the woodshed before Bett had time to ask any more questions.

  Grabbing her snowshoes from their hooks in the shed, Laura slung them over her shoulder and hurried out the back door. The snow from the night’s storm had piled up in deep drifts against the barn and the fences. She made her way into the barn to make it look as if she were really doing chores, and tiptoed along the side of the small stable, past the switching tails of the cows. Then Laura slipped out the back barn door to a stone landing protected by the roof overhang. She stopped there just long enough to put on the two extra pairs of heavy wool stockings and her boots, which she fastened to her snowshoes with leather thongs.

  In twenty minutes, she was plodding into the Mayos’ front yard when she heard someone behind her. Turning, she saw Levi coming along from the barn with a pail of milk.

  “Morning, Laura,” he smiled. “Are you looking for Red?”

  “Well, I was wondering—”

  “You’re too late. He’s long gone.”

  “But he didn’t have any—”

  “Oh, he ate lots of potatoes last night. Then this morning, Ma prepared him a bag of bread and cheese, and a jug of hot coffee. He’ll be fine.”

  “Only if they don’t catch him.”

  “They’re not looking for kids, Laura. Anyway, he’s a plucky lad. He’ll be fine. C’mon in and have a bite of breakfast with the rest of us.”

  “Thanks, but I’d better hurry back. Father came home this morning, and he won’t like it if I’m out wandering around. Bye, Levi, and thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Bye, Laura.”

  Disappointed, Laura plodded more slowly across the fields again. When she was still a few hundred feet from the gate, a loud bell started clanging. It was their house bell! She knew Bett only rang it if there was an emergency. And she knew what the emergency was. She, Laura, was missing! She couldn’t rush too fast or she’d trip over her snowshoes. She soon reached the shelter of the barn, pulled them off, and hurried to the house.

  “Laura Ingersoll, where have you been?” Bett boomed as Laura stepped into the kitchen. “Your father’s callin’ for you. Sam couldn’t find you in the barn, and we’ve been lookin’ high and low.”

  Laura flung her cloak onto the couch and started to untie her iced boot laces. “I went for a walk in the fresh snow. It is truly magnificent out there.” She handed Bett her cloak.

  “Well, my magnificent lady, this is a fine time to be appreciatin’ the snow. Your father’s waitin’ in his study and wonderin’ where on earth you’d gone. Now, here’s your stockings.” Bett handed Laura clean, dry stockings and moccasins, and hung her dripping ones by the fireplace.

  Laura slipped them on and hurried down the hall and into the study. Her father, a tall, wiry, man, was sitting stiffly in a chair in front of the fireplace. He did not see her. With his head tilted sideways, he was gazing into the flames, his deepset brow and bushy eyebrows shaded his hazel eyes.

  “Good morning, Father,” Laura said as she spread her hands before the blazing hearth.

  “A bit early for a walk, isn’t it?” he said gruffly. “And anyway, it’s not safe today. There are still fugitives from the battle around here. I wish I could stay home and keep an eye on things, but I must leave now to continue the search.”

  Laura sighed and stared into the glowing flames of the fire. She didn’t believe her father anymore. He always said he wanted to be home, but he always found some reason to leave. And it had been happening ever since 1775, the year she was born, and the year the American colonies had declared war against Britain. As a rebel soldier, he had been away for most of the war.

  He had been stationed closer to home when he became a captain, and Laura could remember his visiting a few times. She could still see him in his dark blue uniform with the red lapels and cuffs, rushing in the front door and hugging Mother. Then he would grab Laura and throw her up in the air and catch her. Mother was always so happy, and they would go for sleigh rides, just the three of them. But in the summer, he was always away fighting, and he was away the summer Mira was born. When the war finally ended, he moved home and Laura truly felt that this time he would stay but, before long, he was called away again.

  “So, where did you go so early in the morning?” Father asked sternly.

  Laura lifted her eyes from the hearth and said, “Father, before you leave, you should check in on Mother Mercy. She’s very sick.”

  “Bett told me she had a cold but that’s nothing to worry about. Just because your mother died is no reason to believe Mercy will. There’s no need for you to get upset about these things. Bett and Sam are capable—I hear you’re doing very well in school these days.”

  “Yes, thank you—and I must dress for school now.”

  “Don’t go out again today, Laura. School’s been cancelled. We’ve got to flush out the rest of these fellows, poor devils. Then it will be safe for school to open again.”

  “Father, it’s not fair!” Laura burst out.

  “Laura, do not shout. Now, tell me. What’s not fair?”

  “Hunting all these men! You should be helping them.”

  “That is quite enough, Laura. Now listen. These men have broken the law.”

  “Will this end it all?”

  “I don’t know, Laura. I hope this will stop it. When I ride out to preside over the local courts, I never know if they’ll come along and lock me out. It’s very aggravating.”

  “Sam heard that these men are only robbing because they’re starving.”

  “I hope it’s not that bad. But just between you and me, I hate rounding up these men. I don’t think the law is fair. But, as a captain, I have no choice. I have to obey orders from my superiors. And now I hate to leave home so soon again, but Shay’s rebellion has got to be stopped. And you, young lady, try to behave yourself while I’m gone. Bett and Sam have enough to do without hunting all over for you.”

  Then her father strode brusquely across the room and out the door. Laura sighed. Father never stayed home very long, and who knew when he’d be back this time.

  FIVE

  Elizabeth was back. Father had asked Laura to invite her on a picnic with herself and Mira.

  The April sun shone on the three girls as they walked along the cow path that ran from the Ingersoll’s barn to the Green River at the back of their property. Laura stared at Elizabeth as they made their way across the meadow next to the Mayos’ woodlot. Why would she wear a light mauve satin gown with all the lace trimmings to a picnic? And she had mauve ribbons looped through her hair and a puffy bow at the back of her head. Laura was wearing a dark brown cambric outer petticoat and a woollen short gown that draped down over her waist. She could move about freely in the full petticoat with no fear of dirt showing. Because of her practical clothing, however, Laura had been given the job of carrying the picnic basket, and it was heavier than it had
looked when Bett gave it to her at the house.

  “Ooo, oh, oh, I saw one! Get it out!” Elizabeth jumped sideways off the path and tugged her skirt in toward her as if something were biting at it.

  “What are you shouting about, Elizabeth?” Laura tried to sound polite, but was not succeeding.

  “That! It’s—it’s a snake. I saw it. It was coming right for me.”

  “Where? Show me. Maybe we can take it home.”

  Elizabeth looked as if she was going to be sick. “Just get it away from me. Take it away.”

  “I don’t see any snake. Did you notice what direction it was going?”

  “Toward me! Can’t you hear? It was sitting about over—”

  Zing-pfff! A loud crack came from the direction Elizabeth was pointing, followed by a puff of smoke. Mira screamed and grabbed Laura’s arm. Laura dropped the picnic basket but tried not to look scared. It was definitely a gunshot, but there was no sign of anyone around. All the same, the woods were nearby and anyone could be lingering there. She pushed Mira on ahead down the cowpath and told Elizabeth to get moving, too. Elizabeth rushed along so close beside Mira that she nearly tripped over her.

  “What’s your hurry, girls?” shouted Thomas Mayo. He stepped out of the woods, his hands in his pockets, and flashed his usual teasing smile.

  “Was that you shooting?” Laura turned and confronted Thomas.

  “Yes, doggone it! I missed a rabbit.”

  “You might have hit me,” Elizabeth said hotly.

  Thomas brushed his straight brown hair back from his forehead and, still smiling, said, “Awful sorry. I sure didn’t mean to frighten you.” He walked over to the girls with his musket over his right shoulder and his powder horn and ball dangling over the other one.

  Elizabeth’s frown relaxed as she smiled back. “We’ve come to pick flowers from your woods, Thomas.”

  “I’m afraid it’s a little early. But next month there’ll be plenty.” He turned to Laura. “See anything of Red?” he mumbled.