“It gets shadowy and kinder fearsome in the woods come late afternoon,” she said, “and my Pa says that niggers are runnin’ off every little while, and maybe are hid up in the woods; so I’d be skeered to go home late.”
“Don’t be afraid of any poor colored man or woman who might be coming over the ridge, Mollie,” said Mrs. Arnold gently.
“You mean niggers?” questioned the little girl; and then added quickly, “Oh, Mrs. Arnold! I never knew how grand it would be to be eleven years old, and have a birthday cake, and a doll, and a dress!” And she looked from one gift to another with so radiant a face that Mrs. Arnold felt well rewarded for her friendly efforts for her small neighbor’s happiness. Berry had slipped on her cap and coat and was ready to go part of the way home with Mollie. Just as they had started Mollie suddenly turned back, and running to Mrs. Arnold she looked up at her and said earnestly, “I been tryin’ to say ‘thank you.’ But ’tain’t enough to say, fer all you give me. ’Tain’t enuff jes’ ter say, ‘Thank you!’”
“Indeed it is enough, dear Mollie,” responded Mrs. Arnold, leaning down to kiss the little face now flushed with the joy of her happy birthday.
Mrs. Arnold stood in the doorway of the cabin and watched the two little girls until the forest shut them from view. The snow had all vanished, the winter sun still shone warmly above the tree-tops, and only the caws of a passing flock of crows disturbed the perfect quiet of the scene.
CHAPTER V
LILY
Although Mrs. Arnold had told Mollie there was no need to fear the fugitive negroes who now and then made their way across the mountains, hoping to find freedom from slavery in the Northern States, the little girl’s words made Mrs. Arnold thoughtful. Supposing a fleeing Tennessee slave appealed to her for a hiding-place, or for assistance to escape into Kentucky, which remained loyal to the Union, while Tennessee was a Confederate state, what could she do? Mr. and Mrs. Arnold both realized that, even on that remote mountain ridge, the fact that they were from the North, that their son was a soldier in the Northern army, would naturally prejudice Southerners against them, and if any member of the little household was discovered befriending a fleeing negro—who in those days was regarded as a piece of property by his master, and could be dragged back into slavery—it would place them in a dangerous position.
She spoke of it to her husband, but Mr. Arnold saw no cause for uneasiness.
“Of course, if any human being came to our door in need we would have to do what we could for him. Especially if it were a black man or woman; for they have never had a fair chance in this country, and we are bound to help them. I do not think there are half a dozen people beside the Braggs who know anything about us; and they are our friends,” he concluded.
“Mr. Bragg declares he doesn’t care which side wins,” responded Mrs. Arnold. “He says he is ‘neutral,’ and that is why he is so angry at Len’s running away to join the Confederate army. But I don’t quite trust Steve Bragg.”