Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 Thomas carried Birdie on his back, walking deeper and deeper into the woods. It got dark, and he found the North Star. The night sounds rose up — the hoots of owls and the shimmer of crickets. Animals shrieked and howled. His back ached from carrying Birdie, his muscles twisting into knots of pain. But he didn't stop. They needed to get as far as they could from the farm. Because soon the slave catchers would be after them. Clem had told Thomas about those men, who chased down runaway slaves and collected

rewards for returning them to their owners. Their dogs were vicious and as big as mules. Thomas could practically smell the stink of their hot breath, hear their snapping jaws, and feel their teeth ripping into his flesh. The night got darker and darker. Danger seemed to be everywhere — looming in the trees, glowing in the eyes of the night creatures peering from bushes. Twice, Thomas stopped, too terrified to take another step. They should go back! He could lie to Mr. Knox, swear they'd gotten lost chasing rabbits. But he knew what happened to runaways — they'd be whipped, or worse. Thomas kept going. Finally the sun started to rise. The shadows disappeared and the birds started singing. In the distance, Thomas saw fields and farmhouses.

It was too dangerous to walk through a town during the day. They'd find a place to hide and wait until dark. Birdie was so tired. Thomas brought her down to a stream and helped her wash up. Just up the bank was a fallen tree with some soft ground on one side and a leafy bush on the

other — a perfect hiding spot. He sat down and Birdie curled up next to him. Within a minute she was fast asleep. And Thomas dozed, too. He didn't sleep long, and he woke up thirsty. He went down to the stream for a drink. He washed the dust from his face and soaked his battered feet. For a few seconds he let himself believe that he and Birdie were on an adventure together, that maybe Clem was even waiting for him just up the hill. But then there were new sounds: Running footsteps, snapping twigs, the pounding of horses' hooves. Thomas hurried back up the bank, diving through the bushes and into the dirt next to Birdie. "We see you there!" a man's voice bellowed. The slave catchers! A rifle clicked. "Come out now," another voice snarled. "Or we'll shoot you."