Railroad of Courage Read online

  My pa helped me into the back of the hearse, opened one coffin and lifted me gently over the side. With my hand, I traced the circles that were cut in the boards. Sap oozed from the freshly cut, rough wood. Pa motioned for me to lie down, then closed the coffin.

  We travelled all night. The road was rough, and my body was soon covered with fresh bruises. The scent of the fresh-cut pine was strong and my throat burned. When Mister Pickering found a quiet place in the woods, he stopped the horses and opened the coffins. Then he rested while the rest of us kept watch for patrollers and bounty hunters. Moses said patrollers would be scared of a hearse, a wagon of death, but we kept watch anyway.

  I do not know how long we travelled in the hearse. Day was like night and time passed slowly. At last, we came to a farmhouse and Mister Pickering hitched fresh horses to the wagon. The farmer gave us food to eat and water to drink. While we ate, Moses told us stories about the Moses in the Bible. She told us that Moses had a brother Aaron who stayed beside him as he led the Hebrew people to freedom. I hoped that Mister Pickering was like Aaron; I hoped that he would stay with us until we reached Memphis—and beyond.

  That night, I woke up with a start because the hearse had stopped moving. Mister Pickering said softly, “We are just outside the town of Chattanooga so we must remain quiet while Moses goes to meet Delilah at the Davis Plantation. This is a good time for you to climb out of the coffins and stretch your legs.” I was so stiff I almost fell over but Mister Pickering took my arm and steadied me. “You will find your strength soon, Rebecca,” he said kindly.

  Moses said, “When I return with Delilah, we’ll move on. Be ready.”

  I wondered whether Moses would bring another coffin for Delilah, but then I remembered that Delilah would be travelling as a white grower. Mister Pickering spread blankets on the ground and we all lay down to sleep. I was happy because I was not sleeping in a pine coffin or in the back of a wagon; I was sleeping under the stars.

  When I awoke in the morning, Mister Pickering was pacing up and down in front of the hearse. My pa, my ma and Uncle Josiah stood near him, and everyone looked worried. Moses was missing. She had not returned with Delilah.

  Mister Pickering tried to comfort us as he said, “Moses was supposed to return with Delilah last night but, as you can see, they did not come. I am sure that they will join us soon but we must have a plan in case something unexpected has happened. I cannot go to Grower Davis’s plantation to inquire about Delilah. Growers don’t trust Friends, knowing that we believe slavery to be wrong. We must wait and pray while I think what to do next.”

  We waited and waited all day and into the night. I feared that Moses had been caught or that she had suffered another sleeping spell. We rested but could not sleep.

  In the middle of the night, we heard a noise in the woods, the noise of someone walking through the brush. An owl hooted. Mister Pickering quickly helped us into the coffins. Then he untethered the horses and harnessed them to the hearse so we were ready to flee if need be. I kept my breathing quiet and shallow so I could hear every sound. The noise got louder and we soon heard a man singing as he crashed through the woods. Surely it was not Moses.

  Then I heard an owl hooting again. At least I thought it was an owl. The stranger called out, “Good evening.”

  Mister Pickering replied, “Good evening, brother.”

  The man said, “I see that you are on a sad journey.”

  “Yes,” Mister Pickering replied. “I am taking an unfortunate family to Memphis for burial. They were killed in a house fire as the family slept. I seem to have lost my way. Perhaps you can point out the way to Memphis?”

  There was silence again and I strained to hear more. Who was this man? He sounded friendly, but why was he out in the woods at this time of night? Was he a patroller?

  The man said, “I would be happy to draw you a map. I am familiar with this country although I am from Belleville, a town in Upper Canada. My apologies, I should have introduced myself. My name is Alexander—Alexander Milton Ross. I’m a doctor but I’m also an ornithologist, a scientist who studies birds. I am looking for a rare species of owl that can be found only in this part of Tennessee. Perhaps you heard an owl tonight?”

  I heard Mister Pickering laugh. “Brother, I have heard an owl but I think it was you who was hooting. Tell me, are you staying at the Davis Plantation? Has there been any trouble there?”

  Doctor Ross answered, “Yes, I’m staying with Grower Davis. I arranged to spend three months in the South, visiting many plantations in my search for the owl. My research will be part of a book. I have published one work, Ferns and Wildflowers of Canada, and I am anxious to publish another book about owls.”

  Mister Pickering again asked, “Was there any trouble on the Davis Plantation? A friend of mine goes there from time to time.”

  “No, there was no trouble, except for a slave named Delilah. Grower Davis said she stole a chicken although she had stolen nothing. Grower Davis sent her to Ghost Island anyway, saying she had to stay there for five days. The poor soul must be very frightened. I tried to convince Grower Davis that the woman was innocent but he wouldn’t listen.”

  After a long pause, Mister Pickering asked, “Tell me, are there slaves in Canada?”

  Doctor Ross said, “Thankfully, there are no slaves because my country is part of the British Empire, and slavery was abolished throughout the Empire in 1834. Before that, I’m sad to say, many people in Canada did have slaves. In 1793, the Lieutenant-Governor of Upper Canada, John Simcoe, passed a law forbidding anyone to bring more slaves into the province, but slaves who were already there remained in bondage.”

  “And what is your personal opinion about slavery?” Mister Pickering asked.

  “I believe slavery is evil,” Doctor Ross answered. “I’m sure you have heard of the Underground Railroad, a bridge from slavery to freedom. Canada is the bedrock on which one foot of that bridge rests, so I am proud to say I am a Canadian. Runaway slaves are not always welcomed by white folks in Canada but the law protects their freedom and provides security, to the extent it can.”

  Doctor Ross continued. “When I was young, I wanted to heal the sick so I became a doctor. Now I want to heal the evil of slavery. Whenever possible, I help slaves who are seeking freedom. They call me the Birdman.”

  Mister Pickering laughed. “The Birdman? Why do they call you by that name?”

  The Birdman replied, “First, I want to ask you whether you are a Friend?”

  “Yes,” Mister Pickering answered. “I am a Friend, a Quaker.”

  “Then I have to ask you a question about your religion,” Doctor Ross went on. “Do Friends believe in the Christian act of baptism, being dipped in holy water, in order to covenant with God?”

  Mister Pickering said, “I can see, Doctor Ross, that you are a cautious man and you are testing me to make sure that I am indeed a Quaker. Well, let me answer your question. We reject the sacrament of baptism, we pray in silence and we believe that God speaks directly to man.”

  The Birdman said, “You have convinced me that you are indeed a Quaker. Now I will tell you about my name. Slaves call me the Birdman because I visit many plantations as I search for rare birds. Although I eat and drink with the growers and stay in their large houses, I go to the slave quarters at night. I have good reason to walk out into the darkness in my search for owls. Slaves who seek freedom gather around me and I give them coins, a compass and a map to guide them north. I teach them the call of the owl and other birds so they can signal to one another as they flee. I sincerely wish I could do more.”

  Mister Pickering said, “Perhaps you can, for I believe that God has sent you to me this night. I am in need of help.”

  I was frightened. Would Mister Pickering trust this man with our lives? But, if he didn’t ask for help, how would we find out what had happened to Moses?

  The Birdman said, “If I can be of help, please tell me what I can do.”

  We lay in our coffins, l
istening, as Mister Pickering continued. “A black woman went to the Davis Plantation last night. The growers think she is a man but she is, in fact, a woman. She went to visit Delilah, the woman of whom you spoke. My friend has not yet returned. Doctor Ross, would you be so kind as to visit the slave quarters and ask whether a visitor went there last night?”

  The Birdman asked, “What is the woman’s name?”

  Mister Pickering hesitated before he said, “They call her Moses.”

  The doctor said, “I understand your need for caution for I have heard of Harriet Tubman, the woman they call Moses. She is well known among the slaves as a brave woman who leads runaways to freedom. But among the white growers, she is known as a man who encourages slaves to run away. I think there are parts of your story that you are not telling me, but I understand that with the lives of others in your hands you cannot be too careful. I’ll go back to the Davis Plantation and try to find out what has happened to Moses. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  The Birdman set off, his owl hoots fading as he walked away. I was thankful that Mister Pickering had not told him that we were hiding in the coffins, but he had told the stranger about Moses. What if the Birdman told Grower Davis that she was on his plantation?

  That night we decided to stay in the coffins, ready to drive off if patrollers came. Mister Pickering said he would watch over us as we slept, and I prayed that he could keep us safe. I missed Moses. It was a very long night.

  I woke up when I heard a bird call, the call of an owl. The Birdman greeted Mister Pickering and said, “Friend, both Moses and Delilah are safe, but they are trapped on Ghost Island. Moses made a raft and made her way to the island, but on the way back, the raft fell apart and Moses and Delilah nearly drowned. With some difficulty, they were able to get back to the island but there are no trees there and no wood to make another raft. Grower Davis keeps a rowboat locked on the shore and I have asked for the key. He thinks I will be searching for owls along the river tonight but, instead, I will be rescuing Moses and Delilah.”

  Mister Pickering’s tone was serious. “Doctor Ross, it is one thing to give coins and maps to slaves, but it is another to assist Moses in leading runaways to freedom. If you are caught, you will face a heavy fine or a long jail sentence.”

  “I thank you for your words of warning,” the doctor said. “But I will be honoured to help Moses; I welcome the opportunity to act on my beliefs. Now, there is nothing to be done before nightfall except eat and rest. I have brought you food, thinking you must be hungry.”

  Mister Pickering said, “You are kind to bring food … and food aplenty.”

  The Birdman laughed. “I thought some of the dead might be hungry, too. Am I right in thinking there are runaways in those coffins?”

  Mister Pickering called softly, “Obadiah, Deborah, Josiah and Rebecca, you can show yourselves.” One by one, we opened the coffins and climbed down from the wagon.

  As the Birdman shook hands with each of us, I saw that his face was kind and etched with the lines that come from laughter.

  After the Birdman passed us thick slices of ham and bread, he said gently, “Please be ready to move around midnight. You will have to make room on this hearse for me. After this, my welcome on the plantation will be over.”

  With that he turned and disappeared into the thick forest. After a while, his bird calls faded into the distance. We waited for nightfall, then waited still longer. Our safety now depended upon the Birdman, a stranger we had just met. The Birdman said he was willing to help us, but was he as clever as Moses? Would he be able to convince Grower Davis that he was looking for owls along the river?

  I looked up at the sky and saw stars overhead. I heard leaves rustling in the wind, frogs croaking and mosquitoes swarming. I strained to hear the sound of an owl call but the Birdman was not yet coming.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Delilah

  Later that night, I heard a rustling in the woods, then three hoots of an owl. The Birdman! My heart was racing as I saw three figures running through the woods. I ran to Moses and wrapped my arms around her. “Moses, Moses, I was so worried about you.”

  Moses grinned and gave me a big hug. Then she took my hand and pulled me toward the hearse. “Come on, child, your Moses is here. Now we have to put some distance between us and Grower Davis. Delilah will ride up front but the rest of us need to get back in our coffins. I’ll tell you about my adventures later.”

  Delilah climbed up to the driver’s seat and sat down between Mister Pickering and the Birdman. Then the rest of us climbed into our coffins. Mister Pickering set the horses off at a fast pace. When would Grower Davis discover that Delilah was gone from the island? And what would he think when he learned that the Birdman had left in the middle of the night?

  After we had travelled many miles, Mister Pickering pulled the hearse into a clearing and told us we could come out of our coffins. Moses laughed, “Mercy, those horses must be tired—almost as tired as I am. We have covered some distance this night. Now it’s time for me to introduce Delilah properly.”

  I stared at Delilah. Not only was her skin white, but her hair was straight. I looked closely at her eyes and saw that they were dark brown. Delilah smiled shyly. “I’m glad to be travelling with you. Since I put out word on the grapevine that I was ready to ride the Underground Railroad, I have been waiting for Moses to come. It was a surprise when she found me on Ghost Island.”

  Moses laughed, “And even more of a surprise when the raft sank and we almost drowned. Then the Birdman came and surprised the both of us.”

  Moses took my face in her hands. “You were worried about Moses, weren’t you, child?”

  “Yes, Moses, I was.” It was hard to remember that, at one time, I had been afraid of Moses because now she was like another mother to me.

  Moses put one arm around me and the other around Delilah. “Delilah, this is Rebecca and her father Obadiah and her mother Deborah. This is her uncle Josiah and this is Mister Pickering, a conductor on the Underground Railroad. Mister Pickering has kindly brought us all the way from North Carolina and will drive us the rest of the way to the steamboat.”

  Delilah smiled at each of us and said, “I’m sorry you’ll have to pretend to be my slaves on the steamboat, but Moses tells me that it’s the safest way for us to travel up the river to St. Louis.”

  Uncle Josiah said, “It’ll be no trouble. We all have plenty of practice being slaves … You sure are pretty.”

  Delilah laughed and Uncle Josiah laughed, too. Then Mister Pickering climbed back onto the hearse with Delilah and the Birdman, and said, “Now it’s time for us to move on again as we have many miles to go before we get to Memphis. This state of Tennessee is a dangerous place for runaways, so hide in your coffins and don’t open them until I give the word.”

  After travelling for three days, we reached the outskirts of Memphis. That night we slept in the woods. In the morning, we climbed back into the coffins and Mister Pickering drove the hearse into the town itself. I wished that I could sit on the driver’s seat with Delilah, the Birdman and Mr. Pickering because I had never seen a city, but I had to be content with the sounds and smells. I heard men calling to one another and wagons rattling down the streets. The smell of bacon and coffee made my stomach grumble.

  At last we stopped and Mister Pickering quietly told us, “We should give thanks to God, for we have reached Memphis.” We opened the coffins and saw that he had driven the hearse into an empty carriage house. An old man in a black suit stood waiting for us, and Mister Pickering shook his hand before introducing us. “My brethren and sisters, this is Caleb, a Friend who lives in Memphis. Caleb will drive you in his carriage to the steamboat landing. He will give you money for your passage and a trunk with fancy hats and dresses for you, Delilah. The Birdman will say he is your brother and the two of you will board the steamboat first. The Birdman will pay for your passage and two staterooms. It is likely that the ticket master will ask you for papers proving that
you own the slaves and promise to return them to the South. There are forged papers in this handbag.” He pulled a bag from the carriage and passed it to Delilah.

  Pretending to be a slave would not be hard for us because we had always been slaves. But it would be hard for Delilah to act like a free woman. I was worried that the ticket master would know that Delilah was a slave. Moses seemed to understand as she said, “Don’t worry, child. All black people look like slaves to white people and all fair-skinned people look free to them.”

  Mister Pickering said, “It is time for me to say goodbye.” He paused and his face looked tired and sad. “I will miss you, I will truly miss you. My wife and I will pray that you reach Canada and live in freedom. And we will continue to pray that slavery is abolished before the end of our days.” As he spoke, tears came to Mister Pickering’s eyes.

  I mumbled my thanks to this kind man. I could not speak easily for the lump in my throat. I had never before been so grateful for a white man’s kindness.

  After Mister Pickering left with the empty hearse, my pa said softly, “Rebecca, we must never forget that good man.” I had never heard my pa call a white man a good man.

  Caleb climbed onto the driver’s seat of the carriage. Delilah stepped into a corner of the carriage house and slipped into a pretty green dress. She looked like a beautiful white woman as she and the Birdman climbed into the back of the carriage. The rest of us walked behind, shuffling our feet and walking with our backs bent.

  The road we followed ran beside the Mississippi River. From time to time, I lifted my head and took quick glances at the mighty river. It was so wide that I could scarcely see the far bank. Along the shore, men were loading and unloading crates and barrels from boats. Mules pulled barges full of grain. Steamboats paddled their way up and down the river, and there was hustle and bustle everywhere.

  Caleb stopped the carriage at the steamboat landing and walked to the back of the carriage. He spoke to us in a whisper, “Alas, from now on, I must be harsh with you, so people believe you are slaves.”