Race for Freedom (15 page)

Caught up in his excitement, Elsa laughed too. The happy sound warmed Libby.

I did a good thing by bringing Elsa here
, she thought.
That must be the kind of courage Pa means
.

But just then Caleb looked across the table at Elsa. As though seeing her for the first time, Caleb studied Elsa’s face.

In spite of being too thin, she had a special kind of beauty. Here, where she was not chattering with cold, Libby saw her white-blond hair and deep blue eyes in a new way.

“You are free now?” Elsa asked Jordan.

Jordan stiffened. He glanced at Caleb, as though wondering what to say. Caleb answered for him.

“Elsa, what does your family believe about slavery?”

“My father says ‘No man should be slave!’” Pretending she was Mr. Meyer, Elsa slammed her hand on the table. “‘
Ach
!’ he says. ‘No man should be unfairly treated!’”

Elsa’s blue eyes sparkled with laughter. “So!” She spoke directly to Jordan. “Are you afraid to tell me that you have run away?”

Jordan’s gaze met hers. “I ain’t afraid to tell you, but I’m wishin’ you don’t have to know.”

“In my country—” Elsa shrugged as if she, too, knew what it meant to be poor and unfairly treated. “My family left it behind. We have hope for something better.”

Caleb leaned forward. “Elsa, when your family gets to Minnesota Territory, where will you live?”

“My father wants to find land near Red—” Elsa paused as if wanting to make sure of the name.

“Red Wing,” Caleb said quickly. “A town above Lake Pepin. Then we’ll see you again. After you get off the boat, I mean. The
Christina
often stops at Red Wing.”

Oh, it does, does it?
A feeling of dread clutched Libby’s stomach. She didn’t like the way Caleb looked at Elsa.
Is that what he’s planning—to see her often?

Libby didn’t like that idea at all. She wished she hadn’t brought Elsa to her Pa’s cabin. Now Caleb would see her whenever they had school.

An empty feeling grew in the pit of Libby’s stomach. Sometimes it meant she was going to throw up. Now the feeling came from one thought.
It’s all right if Elsa and Caleb are friends. But what if he really likes her?

During class that afternoon, Caleb leaped up from the table. “We’re almost there! Reads Landing, here we come!”

The village lay at the foot of Lake Pepin. Libby and the others followed Caleb to the window. Already they could see paddle-wheelers tied up in the open water at Reads Landing. Libby started counting the steamboats.

“There are at least ten!” she exclaimed. “Will we be racing all those boats?”

“Probably more,” Caleb told her. “Some are waiting at the town of Wabasha.”

Wabasha was the village just below Reads Landing. To Libby’s surprise, Caleb didn’t seem at all concerned about the odds against them. He just looked forward to the race.

As though held in the palm of a hand, Reads Landing was surrounded on three sides by tall bluffs. On the fourth side lay the river. The minute the gangplank went down, Libby, Caleb, and Elsa left the
Christina
. As they walked along the riverfront, Libby studied each steamboat.

Some came from great distances—as far away as Cincinnati and other places on the Ohio River. Yet nothing could convince Libby that any of them—not even the big, newer boats—were as beautiful as Pa’s.

Soon the three of them started up one of the steep streets. From high on the hill they looked across the roofs of houses and hotels to the steamboats and tall smokestacks that Libby loved.

I wish I had my paints along
, she thought. If there was time, she would come back by herself.

From an earlier trip, Caleb knew about an overlook upstream and closer to the river. “It might still be a long wait before the ice goes out,” he said.

Libby knew it was dangerous trying to get through the ice. Usually the river above and below was free of ice for two weeks before the lake. “How do captains know when it’s safe to go through?” she asked.

“They don’t always know.” Caleb pointed to a narrow line of water between the riverbank and the ice. “When the river starts rising, that open space gets wider. Sometimes boats try to go through, but it’s too shallow. If the wind shifts, the ice smashes the boat.” Caleb smacked his hands together.

A soft breeze lifted Elsa’s white-blond hair. In the crisp air, her pale cheeks had turned rosy with color.

She’s beautiful
! Once again jealousy stirred within Libby.

As they walked back, she barely saw the large steamboats tied side by side along the riverfront. Like a green-eyed caterpillar, one thought wormed its way into her mind.
I wonder if Caleb is sweet on Elsa
.

When they reached the
Christina
, Libby learned that the famous captain Daniel Smith Harris hadn’t arrived. A big part of Libby felt glad. If the four-time winner wasn’t part of the race, Pa would have a better chance. Yet Libby knew her father had looked forward to seeing his friend.

The next morning, Libby woke with a start. The
Christina
was moving! Did that mean the race was on?

Quickly Libby dressed and hurried out to the hurricane deck. Far above, the tall stacks belched smoke. On the decks below, passengers crowded the railings, straining for the best view.

With paddle wheels churning the cold, dark water, the
Christina
steamed upriver to the great wide spot called Lake Pepin. “Maybe this is the day the lake will open!” Libby exclaimed when Caleb sat down beside her on the deck.

“I just want your pa to win!” he said. “Think how exciting that would be!”

Libby hardly dared dream about what winning could mean to her father. All summer long the
Christina
went back and forth between St. Louis and St. Paul. If Pa won the race, the
Christina
could dock in St. Paul during the entire season without paying.

As the
Christina
drew near the great mass of ice blocking the river channel, Libby watched closely. In the early morning light, the ice looked gray and soft and spongy. But the ice was stronger than it looked.

Three other daring boats were ahead of them. One was the
War Eagle
, and Libby saw Captain Kingman wave to Pa. Another was the
Galena
with Captain Laughton. His pilot, Stephen Hanks, grinned down at Caleb.

“Is he a friend of yours?” Libby asked.

“Talked to him last night,” Caleb said. “He’s first cousin to a senator from Illinois. Man by the name of Abraham Lincoln.”

Just then the
Christina
slowed her paddles and butted her bow against the ice. The jolt passed through the boat and into Libby. On the deck below, the crowd cheered.

Again and again the
Christina’s
pilot stopped, reversed the paddle wheels, pulled back, then started forward again. Again and again the
Christina
butted into the ice. Finally it divided, making a narrow pathway. When the
Christina
steamed into the open water, the crowd raised a shout.

Before long the ice closed again. No amount of pushing against it would break it open. Finally Captain Norstad gave the order to return to Reads Landing. As the
Christina
backed stern first out of the narrow channel, Libby felt the sharp knife of disappointment.

Caleb looked just as discouraged. “Maybe tomorrow,” he said.

But Libby knew that the other boats had already gone out every day for a week.

As two days passed into three, passengers on the
Christina
grew impatient. On her way to visit Elsa, Libby saw groups of men talking together on the deck. Mr. Meyer was one of those who asked questions.

“Above Lake Pepin the river is open,” said one of the men. “Smaller boats that usually travel on just the Minnesota River come from St. Paul to Red Wing.”

“Yah?” Mr. Meyer asked. “And how do we get to Red Wing?”

“There’s a trail around Lake Pepin,” the man answered. “If we walk to Red Wing, we can book passage to St. Paul. Or we can go wherever we want. We’ll beat the other passengers to the best land.”

Beat the other passengers
, Libby thought as she hurried on. With each passing hour, the men waiting for the ice to go out felt more afraid.

When Libby found Elsa, her friend invited her to sit down in the family’s crowded space. “Today I teach you German,” Elsa said.

Pretending that she was a teacher, Elsa made her face solemn. “First word.
Auf wiedersehen
.” She pronounced it carefully for Libby: “Owf vee-der-zay-en.”

“Auf wiedersehen!” Libby could barely say it. “I gave you easy English words! You’re giving me something really hard!”

Elsa giggled. “It means ‘Until we meet again.’ Soon I say goodbye to you. Yah?”

Feeling torn, Libby nodded. Elsa was the best girlfriend she’d had since leaving Chicago. But if Elsa left, maybe Caleb would forget about her.

Libby pushed the thought aside. “I will miss you,” she said softly. “Let’s not say auf wiedersehen today.”

When Mr. Meyer joined his family, a worried frown lined his face. “I need to leave you here,” he told Elsa’s mother. “I need to find good land—land along the river where there is water for our cattle.”

“Yah?” Mrs. Meyer asked. “And there’s a way around the ice?”

“A way to walk,” Mr. Meyer answered.

“It is dangerous?”

“Yah. It is dangerous, but the only way. I must go now to Red Wing before the best land is gone.”

As his wife offered him a cracker, Mr. Meyer shook his head, then glanced toward Libby and Elsa.

“Libby?” Mrs. Meyer asked. “You like a cracker?”

“Thank you, no,” Libby answered quickly.

When Elsa took a cracker, she ate it slowly, as if wanting to make every bite last.

So,
Libby thought.
The sausage is gone. They’re down to crackers now
.

Unable to watch Elsa eat, Libby stood up.
I’ll get even more food from Granny
. As she walked away, Libby felt afraid for her friend.

CHAPTER 13