Chapter 9 - Follow the Drinking Gourd

Ohio territory - April 1864

The mustangs just did not have drive today, even though they had a good hearty breakfast. Erik had not been pushing them quite as hard as he knew he should. He felt they were feeling off. He was being honest with himself, as well he was feeling drained. Though Running Brook always put on a strong face, Erik knew she must be feeling the ache of the long rides. They had to rest early, even though there were at least several more daylight hours to burn. He slowed the ponies down to a trot.

Running Brook’s ears perked up along with the horses. She trotted in front of Erik, then circled him brandishing her bow, signaling him to do the same.

“Several to our right.” She signaled. “Ambush. Dismount when I do.” She signaled again. She lifted her head and circled around Erik once more, trotting around fiercely. Her movements were swift and like a bolt of lightning, she dismounted. She yelled her war cry and charged into the bushes. Erik followed behind her as fast as he could, ready to attack. He nearly fell over backwards when he saw Running Brook standing over her bow, slumped to her side. She was standing over several huddling people.

“I think we may have a larger problem here,” she said with a dry mouth. “If we were not targets before, we just became ones.”

“I happen to agree with you.” Erik said completely shocked. “Let me go to my horse. I have at least some things that will pick some of these locks. Let’s try and figure out what’s going on here while I get my tools.” He took off his buckskin cap and ran his hands through his sweaty hair in disbelief. Then he walked back to where the horses stood loyally in their spots, waiting for their riders return.

“Please Miss, we mean no harm we are just trying to find our way to the next stop.” A large black man spoke through his cracked and bleeding lips. There was a group of five, very under dressed, what looked like to be, runaway slaves. Running Brook just stood there shocked. How they made it this far in this condition was unsettling. She could see that they were half starved and very dehydrated. She was used to this sight for several of the lucky ones had passed through their camp. The slave hunters never bothered to come near the tribe, for fear of losing their scalps. It was very uncommon if the runaways knew a thing about surviving in the wilderness. They never stayed long, just enough to earn their keep and learn about the gifts of mother earth. Their tribe taught them well and when they were ready, they headed on their journey to freedom.

“You are following the drinking gourd?” She replied softly.

“Yes, we are. There is supposed to be a farm not far from here, where we can get shelter for a while. We were told the farm has stars to guide the way,” one of the women spoke threw chattering teeth. She rubbed her ankle from where the shackles were still attached.

“I am guessing we are taking a bit of a detour?” Erik said returning with a small lock pick kit. He started making his way around the five captives, making easy work of the locks.

“I don’t think far.” Running Brook said. “I think they will be alright. You know anything about the drinking gourd?” Erik bowed his head and gritted his teeth. He had plenty of experience with runaway slaves. He could get them away from people easily. However, the dogs that would hunt for them was another issue entirely. The dogs followed their masters blindly. It hurt his heart deeply that such loyal and wonderful creatures would follow men with cold, evil intentions, not knowing what they were doing.

“They are headed to the next stop on the underground railroad. I hate to say this, but even my best government papers won’t set them free. I operate like a shadow; I can’t set them free. If the slave catchers come, we are targets as well. It makes me sick. We can help get them to the next check point, even help throw off the dogs. That’s about it, my miracle making runs out about there.” Erik bit his lip hard. “How far away is the farm you said?”

“Sir, about 3 miles. If we hurry, we can make it by night fall. The farm has stars on it, we have been told. We head west and we should hit it.” The biggest man said out of the group. Erik laughed.

“No sir, call me Erik, what is your name my fine fellow.” Erik’s Scottish accent came out a little thicker due to his nerves. The group began to laugh and tensions calmed.

“I don’t know my birth name, only what master called me and that was Big Jim.” He gave a wide grin, making all his teeth shine in evening hours.

“Well Big Jim, three miles is nothing for my little mustang. I want you to meet Running Brook. Chances are, if that farm is real, they have a wagon. Running Brook, we need to get them covered in mud and in the river. Meet me a quarter mile downstream. Catch as much game as you can.” He threw her his bow. “I have my pistols in case there is a problem. I want a big bloody mess here in this spot to throw off the dogs. If there is anyone on the trail, they will come right here to the diversion. Have them go into the river to cover the trail. We can’t cover our tracts, that’s a good thing. Leave a few arrows too. This way, it will look like we went after them and they all drowned trying to get away from us. I’ll try to come back with a wagon. The least we can do, is have a nice large hunt for our guests.” Erik said with a nervous smile. He tipped his hat and pounded the trail west as hard as he could. He began trying to find the markers that the runaway slaves had provided. In his gut he had a feeling that if they didn’t proceed with caution, things were going to go from bad to worse.

Running Brook stood over the group of runaway slaves, trying to get a feel for each of them. They were scared to death, half-starved, their clothes were ripped to shreds and they had no supplies.

“Is that your husband?” one of the women asked.

“No, we are just very good friends.” Running Brook looked all around where they had set up their make shift camp to rest the horses and began to look for some stinging nettle. She could see that they all had inflammation on their feet and wrists. This at least would help for a few hours. It would buy her some time and help ease their pain. What she was about to ask them, was not going to be easy on any of them. She smiled as she found large patches of it next to where her horse was grazing happily. “Tell me, what are your names and where do you come from?” she said softly.

“Big Jim already told you his name, he and I come from the same plantation in Tennessee we picked tobacco. My name is Anna.” She put her head down. “We lost my sister and her daughter to slave catchers on the way, but we in free land now.”

“Ohio may be free, but there are boys in Kentucky that do run up here for bounty from time to time. That state is being split down the middle. Its brother against brother. I got help there 'fore I joined up with you folk.” A man spoke up. “Name’s Carlson, heck of a name for a fellow like me. My masser was very proper like, I worked in the big house in Georgia. I guess I had it easier than most of my kin folk. Don’t be fooled though, my owner was a cruel man. This war going on is pointless. Half of these boys dying out there, have no idea what they actually dying for. Most of the soldiers I ran from, I seen de farms, they just as poor as us slaves.” A rock was quickly thrown at his head.

“Shut your mouth, you ain’t got no idea what you’re talking about,” a very angry, dirty, young woman jumped up and started wailing on him.

“Here we go again.” Big Jim rolled his eyes. “Rose, calm down.” He picked her off of him. Then set her down calmly. Running Brook shot an arrow between the two.

“Look here, we have to make it look like something died. I know there is going to be dogs on our trail, now that we have run into all of you,” Running Brook snarled. “Your scaring away the game, so shut it or I will leave one of you behind, got it?” She started shoving the stinging nettles in their hands. “Chew, swallow and eat,” she growled. Then she proceeded to hand Anna a water skin. “Wash it down with plenty of water. It’s going to help with the pain. I see all of you have swelling on your feet and wrists.”

“How do I know it won’t kill us?” Rose gave a snide remark.

“How do you know my tribe doesn’t eat other humans?” Running Brook rolled her eyes then took some of the herb out of Rose’s hands put some in her own mouth and ate it. “I am surprised she is worth the trouble. Why are you having her tag along anyway?”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“She is very handy with snares. She has been catching small game the entire way.” Big Jim said. Running Brook’s heart sank in frustration.

“Don’t tell me, your good with a bow too?” She hissed the words through gritted teeth.

“So? What if I am?” Rose sneered. “We had to get extra food somehow where I came from. I was taught by my mother how to make them. They was easy to hide and its not like they were feeding us well where we was at.”

“Great.” Running Brook sighed with exasperation. “Well here, take the spare. No tricks or I will just shoot you. We need as much game as we can find.” Running Brook reluctantly handed over the spare bow to Rose. “Big Jim, watch my horse please. Eat the nettles and drink as much water as possible. We have some hunting to do.”

Erik rode as fast as his horse would carry him due west. Finally, he came across several farms. They were spread out a good distance. He was extremely thankful for that. He knew if he rode up on the wrong farm, Running Brook would be in trouble. The runaways they had stumbled across, would be in more danger. He had to pick correctly. They were in Ohio territory, which was technically free land. Kentucky, he had a feeling was only a hundred or so miles south. He was still in bounty hunter territory. Since they had been following bodies of water and trying to stay off the main river line, he knew others would be as well. He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out his looking glass. The barns had markings on them, Dutch Amish, he thought. He scanned each barn looking hard for the three stars. The sun was starting to set in the sky. It made it even harder to see through his glass. The last of the sun peeked through the valley. To his surprise, he saw cut outs on the top of the barn where light was shining through. The red glow of the setting sun had lit up the cut outs just long enough for Erik to spot them. There they were the three glowing stars to lead the way home. He had found the mark and took off to the farm.

He slowed his mustang as he made his approach. Erik knew that his appearance was not alarming. A traveler such as himself, passing through would almost go unnoticed. He heard a few voices in the barn speaking in Dutch.

“Son, did you put the livestock in for the night?” a bellowing voice said.

“Yes pa, pigs are fed. Cows are in as well. I will tell Ma we are about ready for supper.” A younger voice said.

“Good evening, sir’s,” Erik said in perfect Dutch. He knew his accent was completely off with being a Scotsmen. He could tell that took both of them by surprise.

“Hello sir, your pretty far away from your homeland. To be speaking our tongue too? Not many a day we meet a Scotsman that knows our language.” They all laughed.

“I don’t like being under any authority but my own. I like the freedom America brings. I have a few friends that like it too.” Erik said tactfully. “I stopped by your barn because I liked how it was very different from the others. I was hopeful I could make an honest trade with you sir. If that would not be too much trouble. How bout I feed you and your family for a few nights with some wild game? In return, my friends and I could rest here for a few nights?”

The farmer beckoned for his son to go into the house. He took off his hat and looked around his barn to make sure there was no one in the area.

“Who are you exactly sir?” the farmer looked at him very hesitant. Erik knew that dishonesty was going to get him nowhere.

“My name is Erik Cullen. Truthfully, I am on my way to New York. I ran into a few friends on the road. Trouble being; not even my papers, with my ties in Washington, can do any good against what they are up against.” Erik had a very good feeling about this farmer. He knew he was risking his own life and that of his family by being a part of the underground. He knew this farmer would keep this information quiet. He reached into his saddle bags and tossed him a leather notebook. The farmer opened it and looked at a the documents with wax stamps and seals.

“Mr. Cullen, it’s my pleasure to meet you. I am Lars Yoder, what can I do to help?”

“My offer is true. I have my guide hunting as we speak. She is an expert and we plan to get the dogs off their trial. There is no doubt, with as many as they are, a few of them are following us. If anyone comes asking, they tried to ambush us for our horses and supplies. We are making it look like a struggle at the creek. We know a spot where it gets pretty deep, about a half a mile up from where we met. If you have a wagon loaded with bad hay, we can get them all loaded. I am sure my guide also has a large hunt.”

“I’ll get my horses ready.” Lars replied. “I have a wagon that will do the job. Give me a moment to grab my two sons, we are used to the railroad hours. How many?”

“Five, I think. Half-starved, in need of clothes, shoes and food. We are really good hunters, we thought we could at least help with some of the burden there. I can see you work hard to provide for your family. Being a conductor is not easy either. It’s the least we can do, by providing some meat.” Erik looked around. “Do you have a heavy wooden beam? We will need it to drag behind the wagon to cover the tracks.” He reached for a spare pair of buckskin slippers for the horse in his saddlebag. “Go grab your sons. “I’ll fit this up to the horse. I’ve done this a time or two.” Lars just shook his head in a smiled surprise.

“You know Mr. Scotsmen, I may have to sit down with you and you’ll have to teach me a few of your tricks!” he said as he ran into the farm house.

Running Brook and the group of runaway slaves had actually made quite a good haul. Rose turned out to be quite a skilled hunter. She had found a flock of wild turkey and was able to kill four before they got away. Running Brook caught several quail and was thankful she was able to catch a deer as well as two rabbits. She threw the deer on her horse and tied the turkeys up. She had several of the runaways hold several of the small game to keep the blood warm. It wasn’t the ideal situation, however it had to be done. She had found the deepest part of the creek and knew it would be impossible for horses to pass.

“You all will hate me now,” she said her voice full of sorrow. “I know help is coming and soon. Erik has never failed me. You will have to trust me.” Running Brook said to the group.

“What do we need to do?” Big Jim asked trying to get the warmth from the tiny rabbit he was holding close to his chest. This broke her heart. They were already starting to feel the effects of the early night spring air. They thought the animals were for warmth. She knew otherwise.

“I need the small game back. All of it. I also need you to jump in the water carefully by the rocks and cover yourself in mud from head to toe. I need you in for as long as you can stand it. The longer you’re in water and mud, the faster the scent fades away. It gives me time to make it look like a struggle happened. The animal blood will have a stronger scent than yours. Erik should be here very soon with a wagon, as we had planned to get you all back to the farm. You will all be safe, warm and dry. I have said he has yet to fail me. I have never failed him, we are all in danger now. This is our best way out alive.” Running Brook said calmly.

“She’s right,” Rose said. Running Brooks mouth fell open.

“Here I am believing your named Rose because of the thorns.” Running Brook said sarcastically.

“Just remember you never took away your spare bow from me,” she said with a smirk.

“I still have a gun or did you forget? I will shoot you.” Running Brook said with a smile.

“I don’t want to get in the water, it’s too cold.” Carlson said very whiny.

“She will shoot you. Heck, I’ll shoot you for her.” Rose said laughing. She pulled back an arrow and pointed it at Carlson’s feet. “We got this far, I am not going to be chow meat for no dogs! That’s what we will be if we don’t get in. Hey shaman? Ya have any herbs to help with the cold? My feet actually do feel a bit better after eating that weed stuff you gave us.” Rose cackled.

“I think the only person I am going to shoot tonight, is Erik,” Running Brook mumbled under her breath. She knew she was going to face a lot of odd things on this journey. This was just a massive headache. If it meant a step in the right direction for everyone, then it was worth it. She knew the winds always had a reason for crossing paths with the people she met. She never questioned the reasoning. There was always a ripple effect, even if she could not see the reason at that moment. When she became old and gray, she thought it would all be revealed to her. That was her hope at least, the great spirits were always like that.

A loud splash was suddenly heard and Carlson was first one into the water. However, from what Running Brook observed, it was not willingly. Rose had shoved him in. Everyone started to clap and laugh. Anna covered her mouth to hide the laughter.

“Its good to hear a bit of laughter,” Anna said softly. “Even in this crazy time with everything going on its still good to let your guard down once in a bit. Helps you not go crazy.” Anna said softly as she picked up her tattered skirt and waded carefully into the water.

“Be careful and stay on the rocks! The current here is fast and will carry you away. Horses can’t get through. Just hurry up and start slathering up with mud.” Running Brook groaned. She watched them each one by one get into the icy spring water. The game was laid in a pile by her feet. She began looking at her surroundings. If they were in hurry, they would indeed jump into the water to get away. She had been smart to keep them in the dry grass as they had been walking to the rendezvous point. Tracks were made here and there, now the footprints were all chaotic, which was perfect. She brought her pony over and walked him around several times in an odd pattern. Trackers would think the horse got spooked. She began to make quick work of the rabbits, trying not to waste the meat and threw her knife in the direction of the footprints. The blood splattered perfectly. She did this multiple times with each of the small game, until she had drained every last drop of blood. It looked like a small battle. She took out her bow and fired two arrows back a bit farther, each with a little blood on it to make it look like a graze wound. They could say they met the runaways in the dark. In the distance Running Brook heard a loon cry three times. It was Erik.

“I hope you guys are covered and good. Move up about fifty feet to the tall grass and make sure you are covered in mud, Erik just got back and I hear a wagon with him.” She could hear the chattering teeth and the whispers of “praise god”. She took a deep breath and was just happy this dreadful night was almost over. All she wanted, was to lie her head down in something halfway clean and warm.