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Authors: Lois Walfrid Johnson

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BOOK: The Fiddler's Secret
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CHAPTER 1
Night of Fear

I
n the dark of night, Libby Norstad suddenly woke up.
Where am I?
She wondered as she struggled to think.
What woke me?

A dream? A nightmare?
Whatever the cause, Libby shivered with fear.

Soon after midnight her father's steamboat had left Galena, Illinois, heading up the Mississippi River. But now Libby felt no movement, heard no engines or slap of paddle wheels against the water.

It's quiet. Too quiet
. Even the night air felt heavy and strange.

Then from near at hand the ship's bell broke the silence. As rapid strokes rang out, then stopped, Libby knew it was a signal.

What's wrong?
she wondered.
What happened? Where's Pa?

With a trembling heart, she leaped up and changed into her dress. As she stepped onto the deck outside her room, the cold fingers of fog seemed to clutch her.

Libby gasped. Without thinking, she stretched out her hands to feel the way. As she peered into the darkness, she could not see even eight feet ahead.

“Pa!” she cried in terror. “Where are you?”

Her hand against the outer wall of her room, Libby crept forward. When she reached her father's cabin at the front of the
Christina
, it was empty. Feeling as if she were sleepwalking, Libby turned around and started back.

Silly!
she told herself, ashamed of her fear.
I'm on my father's boat. Why am I afraid?

But the bell rang again, cutting through the ragged edges of her nerves. Forcing herself to be calm, she headed for the stairway.

In the four years after her mother's death, Libby had stayed with her aunt in a Chicago mansion. For the past five months Libby had been with her father. In that August of 1857, she was still learning to face the dangers of living on a steamboat.

I want to be strong
, she thought.
But I just feel scared!

When Libby reached the deck below, it was even darker. Usually filled with first-class passengers, the boiler deck was just above the large boilers that heated water and created steam to run the engines. With not one person in sight, the deck was strangely quiet. Libby had only one thought—to find Pa, her friend Caleb Whitney, or someone who would help her feel safe.

Instead, Libby found the railing and followed it toward the front of the boat. Through the murky darkness she saw someone standing at the bow. Libby's heart leaped with relief.
Annika Berg!

The young woman's long black hair was pulled up to fall in loose curls at the back of her head. During the past week the teacher had helped Libby and her friends in a time of danger. Working with the Underground Railroad, the secret plan
that helped slaves escape to freedom, Annika had given them a place to stay. In a few short days Libby had grown to love her.

As Libby took another step, Annika heard her and turned. “Come enjoy the view with me!”

Libby giggled. “What a view! Solid fog!” For the first time since waking up, she felt better.

Annika stood at the railing, peering down. “I've been trying to see if the ropes are out. We must be tied up along the riverbank. Right?”

Libby nodded. She could barely see the line, or rope, between the boat and the small willows along the river's west bank.

Annika faced her. “We're here because the pilot can't see, your father can't see—”

“Yes.” Not wanting to talk about her fears, Libby tried to cut Annika off. But Libby's thoughts leaped on.
We're here so we don't run into a sandbar. So the sharp roots of a tree caught in the river bottom don't pierce our hull. So we don't run into another boat. Or another—

“Are we far enough out of the channel?” Annika echoed Libby's thoughts. “Could a boat crash into us?”

Libby's hands knotted. It was her biggest fear.
If I don't admit it, maybe it won't happen
.

Now she wished it were Caleb talking to Annika. Though he and Libby were now the same age, Caleb would soon be fifteen. He also managed to answer questions better. A conductor for the Underground Railroad since the age of nine, Caleb had years of practice in being questioned by people not as nice as Annika.

The teacher met Libby's gaze. “If a captain thinks he needs to keep going—”

The ship's bell broke into her words. Then Libby remembered. On a steamboat tied up in fog, its crew rang the bell rapidly for five seconds out of every minute.

When the bell was quiet, Annika waited for Libby's answer. “The lines hold us as close to the shore as we can be without hurting the paddle wheel on this side,” she said. “We can't get any farther out of the channel. We're long and wide, and the stern drifts out with the current.”

“And a boat that doesn't wait for the fog to lift can run into us?” Annika's blue eyes were dark with concern. “Why doesn't your father just tell people to go on shore?”

In that moment Libby felt impatient with Annika's questions. Then Libby remembered that Annika was used to taking care of people—children in her classroom and fugitive slaves. Annika was used to thinking ahead.

Just the same, Libby felt she had to defend her father. Because of her, Annika and Pa had gotten off to a bad start.
I want Annika to think the best of him. To see Pa as a hero
.

“If we stay on the boat, there's a danger that something might happen,” Libby said. “But we hope it won't. If we go on shore in the dark, it's pretty sure we won't like what we find.”

“Such as?”

Libby shrugged. “I can't see anything around us, I just know we're between towns, and there are islands in the river. If a riverboat captain finds a criminal on board and it's a long way to the next stop, the captain puts the man off on an island.”

“Because it's a serious crime, and the captain has no choice?” Annika asked.

“If he knows his passengers might be harmed,” Libby said.

Annika's voice was filled with respect. “I had no idea a
riverboat captain has to deal with all that.”

Libby smiled.
Now I'm getting somewhere
, she thought smugly.
I'll make sure Annika likes Pa. But I'll be clever this time
. From past experience Libby knew she had to be careful. Annika had already made it clear that she didn't want anyone to think she was looking for a husband.

“I don't know what else we'd find,” Libby went on. “Some places there would be sink-down-deep mud, reeds, and tall grasses. Maybe floating bogs. Snakes.”

“Snakes?”

“Copperheads. Timber rattlesnakes. This time of year, they live along the river bottoms.”

“I see.”

“Even in the fog.” To Libby's surprise she already felt better. Annika could understand how Libby dreaded snakes and criminals and fog.
It would be nice having her around all the time
.

Now Libby knew just what to say. “Pa is a courageous man. A riverboat captain has to be very brave …”

Her eyes wide, Annika listened.

“And wise and good.” Libby spoke quickly to make sure she got it all in. “He cares about his passengers. That's what makes him a good family man, a good choice for anyone who marries him.”

Annika backed off. “Well,” she said, “as long as I know we're in good hands, I'll leave you now.”

Inwardly Libby groaned.
I did it again
. Libby wished she could bite off her tongue.

Instead she exclaimed, “No, don't go!” Already the fog seemed to close around her. Having Annika there pushed
aside Libby's fear. “I'll show you the lantern that tells other boats we're here.”

Together they walked along the deck closest to the river channel. As they drew near the stern, the light of the lantern welcomed them. Yet the fog seemed even thicker than before.

“I wonder from how far away a pilot can see the light,” Annika said.

Before she could answer, Libby heard the long, deep blast of a steamboat whistle. A whistle saying, “I'm coming! Get out of my way!”

Like a nightmare it was—a nightmare so real that Libby trembled. As the
Christina
's bell rang without stopping, Libby shouted into the fog, “Watch out! We're here!”

But the deep whistle sounded again, closer now. Then Libby heard the slap of paddle wheels against water. With Annika at the rail beside her, Libby peered into the night.

Moments later a deckhand on the other boat called to his pilot. The front of the steamboat loomed up out of the fog. Frantically, Libby waved her arms. “We're here! Watch out! We're here!”

Now Libby saw the railing along an upper deck, the men standing as lookouts. As a deckhand called another warning, Libby's heart leaped with fear. “Don't run into us!”

But the steamboat whistle cut through her words, and Libby knew.
No one can hear a word I'm saying!

Filled with panic, she grabbed Annika's arm and yanked her away from the railing. “Run!”

With Annika close behind, Libby raced to the other side of
the boat. When Libby dropped down on her stomach, Annika fell to the deck beside her.

Hands over her head, face against the boards, Libby braced herself for the crash.

In that instant of waiting, she had one thought.
I don't want anything to happen to Annika!

CHAPTER 2
BOOK: The Fiddler's Secret
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