“Then you didn’t run away from a cruel master and mistress?” continued Berry, wonderingly.
Lily shook her head. “I don’ know much ’bout ole Massa; he go off las’ year ter help Massa Jeff’son Davis win de war, and Missus she jes’ went long wid him. I ain’ nuffin ’gainst dem,” Lily declared soberly. “’Twas dem stuck-up niggers dat batted me all de time, dat I runs off frum; an’ I jes’ hopes dey is gwine ter be set free,” and Lily again chuckled, as if comforted by the possibility that her fellow-servants would soon be obliged to look after themselves.
As soon as they reached home Berry repeated the story of Lily’s escape from the Alabama plantation. “She hid in swamps, and crept into barns to sleep, and ate corn, and frozen apples, and eggs. And it wasn’t her master she ran away from!” said Berry, and then told her mother what Lily had said.
“Then we can feel safe about her not being followed, or a reward offered for news of her!” said Mrs. Arnold with evident relief. “Very likely her master does not even know that she has run away.” And the little household was no longer troubled by anxious fears lest their kindness to the wandering slave girl might involve them in trouble, and Mrs. Arnold felt that Berry was much safer in her wanderings about the ravine with Lily for her companion.
And Berry soon discovered that the slave girl knew many interesting things about the little creatures of the forest. It was Lily who discovered the partridge eggs behind a fallen log not far from the cabin and cautioned Berry not to go near them or the partridge might desert the eggs. “Jes’ keep ’way from dar, Missie, an’ fus’ t’ing dar’ll be a flock of little partridges,” she said. And it was Lily who heard the first call of the wild geese flying north, one morning in early February. It was Lily who tamed the two tiny woodland mice that peered out from under an old stump one sunny morning when Berry and Lily were resting near by. The negro girl cautioned Berry to be quiet, and attracted the tiny creatures with little calls until they stopped and fixed their bright eyes upon her, and even ventured near enough to eat bits of bread from the girls’ luncheon. For several days Berry and Lily made daily trips to the old log with food for their new friends, whom they named “Dot” and “Dash,” and the mice apparently were always on the watch for them.
When Mr. Arnold was again able to take his usual walks there were many hints of spring along the slopes of the ravine, and on one of his visits to the highway a traveler told him that the forts on the Cumberland and Tennessee Rivers had been captured on February 16 by General Grant, assisted by the fleet of gunboats commanded by Commodore Foote. Fort Donelson had been taken, and General Buell was preparing to advance against the Confederate army at Nashville.
This was a great success for Northern forces, and the Arnolds earnestly hoped might help to bring the war to an end. But Mr. Arnold realized that it must bring the troops of both the Confederate and the Union armies further south, and who could tell how near the little mountain cabin might stand to some future battlefield? But he did not mention this anxiety to Berry, but cautioned her not to go to the road leading to Corinth. And Berry was now counting the days when the sugar-maples could be tapped, and sugar-making begin, when another adventure befell her that might well have proven a dangerous one had it not been for Lily’s courage and faithfulness.
CHAPTER IX
THE WITCH’S TREE
“Mother! Can’t Lily wear those old clothes of Francis’s?” Berry asked one March day, when Lily had returned from a scramble up the ridge, with the old dress of Mrs. Arnold’s, that she had worn since coming to the cabin, so badly torn by the thorns and underbrush that it was no longer fit to wear.
“She can’t climb trees, or run as fast as I do, or anything in that long skirt,” complained Berry, and added quickly, “And she would like to wear things like mine.”