“And did you?”
“No. They locked us behind a wooden fence and then one day marched us down to a flat boat which took us out to the slave ship.”
“When did the navy men free you?”
“They were waiting for the slave ship just outside the river, along the coast.”
“Thank you both for your stories today. And now I have another assignment for you. For next week, I want you to memorize those stories so that you can always carry them with you.” She swept her hand around to include the rest of the classroom. “And the rest of you be ready to tell your story as well.”
She sat down and opened the well-worn Bible she kept at the front of the class for reading aloud. She swept her glance around the room and settled on Eli. “Eli, it’s your turn to pick something to read.”
After an hour of student readings, she dismissed the class but asked Mingo to stay. Once everyone was out of the room, she whispered, “I need you to help me find a flat-bottomed boat we can borrow for a few days.”
When the entranceto Freetown Harbor hove into view, Chris felt a weight lift from his shoulders. All he had to do was have his men set the anchor and then take the shore boat in to the quay. From there, a short walk would take him to the mission vicarage…and Rachel.
When theThistle’screw at last let go the anchor and chain, he saw a boat rowing quickly out from shore, filled with men in the uniforms of the regiment. This was not a good sign. At worst, he was being court-martialed. At best, they were bearing an invitation from the governor which could not be denied.
When a captain from the governor’s force was at last on board, the latter proved to be true. The governor awaited word of what had transpired at Sherbro Island…and how the fleet of local fishermen cum sailors were faring. He required Chris’s presence at supper at his official quarters.
Chris sighed and retired to his cabin to have Drake brush the dirt off one of his jackets so that he go before Governor MacCarthy as a reasonably well turned out officer.
Rachel had savedher egg money for an emergency, and if grasping at perhaps her last chance to finally meet her mother’s family was not an emergency, then she didn’t know what would qualify. At least that was how she justified the large amount of money the boat owner demanded for the privilege of risking his flat boat in Ibi country.
She, Mingo, and Eli had been taking turns poling the boat throughout the day after a long negotiation that morning with the fisherman who owned the craft. Earlier, when the river’s creeks had been wider, they’d been able to use oars to speed them toward Port Loko. But the last four hours had been hard poling that had pushed Rachel’s arms and shoulders to the breaking point.
The fisherman, who had done some trading at Port Loko with the Ibi, told them the two-mile mark from the village was marked by a huge mango tree on one of the banks.
Rachel sighted the tree first and motioned for Mingo, who was poling, to push them to the bank. She jumped from the bow and pulled the front line of the boat to lash it securely around the tree’s trunk. She shaded her eyes to look in all directions and then motioned for silence from the boys so that she could listen for tribesman. However, the landing was a well of silence. She couldn’t even hear birdsong.
When Mingo moved as though he was going to join her on the bank, she shook her head hard. “I have to go these last two miles alone. I can’t risk the two of you being captured again.” She’d also told them as little as possible so that they could truly say they knew nothing of what she planned to do.
She quickly unfurled the line again and threw it on the boat. The small craft lifted in the downriver current and started back to Freetown. The last she saw of them, Eli was at the stern steering the boat to keep it midstream, and Mingo was staring after her sorrowfully.
18
Chris filled in Governor MacCarthy on the details of the latest one-hundred-fifty slaves he’d brought back on theThistlefrom Sherbro.
The governor slowly shook his head. “Captain Halloren, we’re getting to the point where we don’t even assign land to newcomers anymore. Anyone who wants to clear unoccupied land, he can claim it for himself. There are too many new settlers each month from among the ones you men bring to us to make the resettlement any more complicated than it already is.
“Which brings me to your sail rigging project. How is it going?”
Chris gritted his teeth at the delay in seeing Rachel and updated the governor on his flailing fisherman students.
Rachel tooka bag of figs from the pack of food she’d brought along to see her through her trip and stowed the rest beneath a downed log.
She turned toward the village, confident she knew the way, since the Sierra Leone River flowed directly to Port Loke. She stopped suddenly at the sound of a twig crunching beneath someone’s foot. Just as she was considering climbing a palm tree to hide, a woman stepped into the clearing along the river.
She had Rachel’s mother’s eyes, and her face was similar. She wore the same clothing she’d worn the last time Rachel saw her, but this time she was a solid, flesh and blood woman. When she reached out her hand to make sure, her aunt squeezed her tightly in return.
They exchanged shy smiles and then her aunt said, “Come with me. You do not have much time if you want to meet your father and grandfather.”
“Why? I can stay as long as I wish.”
“No. You must not. They’re both full of bad medicine. If you stay, you will die.”
“Are you the tribe’s medicine woman healer?”
Her aunt smiled at the question. “Of course. How else could I have come to you in the dream time?”
