He laughed. "My name is Nathan. I live in that little house through those trees there. We ain't got much-just a house, a barn, some chickens, and a couple of skinny cows and pigs. But we got a little land, and it's ours, and we make do. My daddy drinks at night, so I go fishing. And you are probably right about my manners-my mama would have taught me, but she died." He tossed a stone into the water. "But I do know a pretty girl when I see one-even if she is muddy-footed and saucymouthed."

Polly was surprised to find herself blushing. Her whole face and neck felt like hot, stinging needles. She'd never felt like this before. She cleared her throat. "I must be on my way," she said as she tried to go around the rock on which he sat.

"Do you know where you are?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied.

"Where?" he challenged her.

"I don't have to tell you anything," she said with a boldness she did not feel. She glanced nervously in the direction of the forest where Amari and Tidbit hid.

He gazed at her curiously. "You're not far from Savannah, Georgia." He paused. "Is that where you want to be?"

"Exactly," Polly said with annoyance.

"What about the others?" he asked quietly.

"What others?" Polly said, trying to bluff. "I am alone."

"The slave girl. The little boy. The dog." He continued to gaze at her with a half smile. "I spotted you yesterday, and I been following you."

Polly's eyes went wide. "You've been . . . Why?" Polly asked nervously. "Do you work for Clay Derby?"

"Never heard of him," Nathan replied. "I just figure you must be runaways, but I never seen such a raggedy bunch before."

"We are on a mission of mercy," Polly began desperately. "I am mistress of-"

"Of mud?" The boy interrupted her and laughed out loud. "Y'all look like you need some mercy yourselves. You are obviously nobody's mistress-I figure an unhappy indenture. The two little Negroes are runaways for sure." He paused and gazed at Polly long enough to make her feel uncomfortable. Then he said slowly, "I figure that your little 'mission of mercy' is worth a bucket of reward money."

Polly backed away from him slowly. "You mustn't tell," she whispered, pleading. "We have come so far, and our journey has not been easy."

Nathan grinned. "I can see that." Then he pointed to the woods where the others were hiding. "Tell your friends to come out. Maybe I can help."

Polly hesitated, unsure of what to do. She knew Amari and Tidbit had heard everything.

"Go on, Polly-girl," Nathan said gently. "Call them. You can trust me."

Again her father's special name for her was spouting from the mouth of a cocky young man. This time, however, she almost liked the way Nathan said it, with just a hint of a Georgia twang. She opened her mouth to call the others, but before Polly could speak, Amari stepped quietly out of the darkness of the trees. She held Tidbit on her hip. Hushpuppy, hovering close, growled quietly.

Nathan looked at them for a moment, then asked, "Are you all hungry?"

Polly nodded stiffly, still uncertain.

Nathan jumped down from the rock and stood face-to-face with the dirty, tired group. "Look, I got to tell you, my daddy would turn y'all in, get the reward money, and have it drunk away by Sunday next. But me, I think slavery is stupid. I figure anybody ought to be free enough to go fishing at midnight if he wants to." He grinned again. "It is a big country, with room enough for the Indians, for black folk to find their own place, and for pretty little white girls with dirty feet!"

Polly was sure her furious blushes were evident even in the moonlight. She'd never met anyone who made her feel so fluttery.

Amari coughed. "You got food?" she asked quietly.

"Not much," Nathan replied. "Follow me." They trailed the boy through the forest, which thinned gradually to a clearing where a small garden and a larger field of crops could be seen. Two small buildings-a house and a barn made of rough wood and logs-stood nearby. "I'm going to hide y'all in the barn. I do most of the work around the place, so Daddy is not likely to find you if you stay quiet." He led them through a small door, pulled fresh hay for pallets for them, and told them he'd return in a moment.

Amari looked around nervously. "This be a trap?" she asked.

"I hope not," Polly replied. "He had an honest face."

Amari smiled at her. "I think his face make you happy."

Polly blushed again. "Nonsense," she said quietly. She didn't want to admit that Amari was right.

Nathan was back a few minutes later with bread, cheese, dried venison, and apples. "This is all I could find, and my daddy is going to wonder why I got so hungry, but I'll just tell him I been out all day hunting. Eat," he urged them.

The hungry group of travelers took the food gratefully. Tidbit even ate the apple cores and promptly fell asleep on the nearest pile of straw.

"Where y'all headed?" Nathan asked the girls.

"South," Amari replied.

Nathan looked confused. "Don't most runaways head north?"

Amari glanced at Polly, who lowered her voice and asked Nathan, "Have you ever heard of a place called Fort Mose?"

Nathan looked up in surprise. "That's down in Spanish territory. Far south."

"It be real?" Amari asked.

"Of course it's real. You been heading toward a place that you didn't even know for sure existed?" he asked, scratching his head.

"Amari always believed in it," Polly explained.

"My father does some trading-much of it illegal, I'm sure-and you'd be surprised who shows up here from time to time. I've met French beaver trappers, English gun sellers, and Dutchmen who sell indentures."

Polly tensed.

"Last month," Nathan continued, "a Spanish priest from this place called Fort Mose came through here, trying to teach my daddy the 'one true faith.' Daddy just laughed at the man and told him to get out. Unless a man has a plan where my daddy can make money, he's not interested."

"What man say 'bout Fort Mose?" Amari asked. "Streets of gold?"

"Streets of mud would be my guess," Nathan replied. "It is a small place but different from most. From what I could tell, it is run by Spanish soldiers and priests. Runaways are welcome and given their freedom, as long as they promise to swear allegiance to the Spanish king."

"Freedom to do what?" Polly asked.

"Freedom to stay there, I suppose," Nathan told her. "If you leave, you lose Spanish protection and are subject to the laws of the colonies."

Polly and Amari exchanged looks.

"No whippings?" Amari asked, unconsciously touching her scarred back.

"I would think not," Nathan said, sympathy showing on his face. "How far have you come from?"

"Charles Town. South Carolina Colony."

Nathan looked impressed. "That's an awfully long walk." He was quiet for a moment. "Can you tell me what you were running away from?"

Polly thought for a moment. "A very bad situation," was all she would say. "Do you know the woods around here quite well?"

"For sure," Nathan replied proudly. "I know every rock and holler and tree within a hundred miles. Squirrel and deer see me coming and tremble, 'cause they know they could be my dinner!" He laughed.

Polly felt relaxed with this pleasant young man. She had a feeling that her father would have liked Nathan-taking him fishing and telling him tall tales. She wished she could talk to her father just one more time-ask his advice or listen to him laugh uproariously at his own jokes after dinner. "It is so very kind of you to help us," she told Nathan. She felt herself reddening again.

Nathan looked directly into her eyes. She had to look away. "I will show you the safest path through the forest after you have rested," he said. "Remember to stay very quiet. My father is just plain mean."

The three travelers nodded and snuggled into the clean straw. Polly dreamed of her father for the first time since his death-his bawdy jokes, his weakness for ale, and the soft grin on his face whenever he looked at her. "My princess. My Polly-girl," he would say when he kissed her good night. She slept soundly for the first time in many days.

But the next morning she was awakened suddenly by a redfaced man who held a pitchfork in his hand. He towered over the three children. "What this we got here in my barn? Two niggers? And a dirty little white gal who must be poor white trash if she be sleepin' with 'em!"

Amari jumped back, pulling Tidbit behind her.

"Please, sir," Polly began to say.

Then Nathan appeared in the doorway, his face showing both agony and apology as he looked at Polly. "What you got here, Daddy?"

"You hear anything creeping around last night, boy?"

"No, sir," Nathan said. His voice cracked as he spoke.

"Didn't I tell you about locking the barn door to keep out animals? Never figured I'd have to lock out the likes of this here. 'Course, they ain't much better than animals." He laughed roughly.

"I'm sorry, sir. I thought it was locked." The look on Nathan's face pleaded with Polly to understand-or to forgive.

Polly wasn't sure if she should believe his looks of apology or not. She looked at Nathan with great disappointment. "Let me explain, sir," she began, trying to appease Nathan's father.

"Shut up, gal!" the man roared. He leaned in close to Polly's face. "Trespassers! I'll have the lot of you hanged, lessen there be a reward out for you. If that be the case, I will get my money, then see you hanged!"

Polly was terrified, but she continued. "There is a large reward, sir, for the return of these slaves," she said slowly. "I am in the process of bringing them to Savannah. My mother is sick, and we need the reward money." She managed to make a teardrop fall, although he could not know it came from fear rather than sorrow.

The man hesitated. He looked at her closely, tightening his grip on the pitchfork. "Do say, now."

"Sir, can you help me get home to my mother?" Polly begged. "You can have the reward money. I just want to get home to my family."

"You look to me like you be lying, gal. If I find you been lying to me, I swear I'll kill you all. Nathan!" he called suddenly. "Get in here, boy!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Lock the barn tight this time. You hear me, son?"

"Yes, sir."

"After I eat and you feed the animals, we'll take them down to Savannah. I'm going to make me some money on this motley lot one way or another." He strode out of the barn, tossing the key at Nathan.

Nathan turned to Polly as soon as his father was out of earshot. "You must believe me, I did not betray you."

Polly did not reply right away. She stared at him, then, realizing they didn't have much choice but to trust him, she shrugged her shoulders. "Can you get us out of here? We don't have much time!"

Nathan nodded. "If you head due west, you will run into a swamp. It's not pleasant, but he's not likely to pursue you there. Hide for a day or two, then head south."

Polly gave him a small smile.

"How we get out from here?" Amari asked, bringing the subject back to the immediate problem.

"Hit me," Nathan told them.

"What?" Polly and Amari said at the same time.

"Use the handle of the pitchfork. Knock me down. Hit me in the head. Then run for the swamp!"

"I cannot hit you!" Polly exclaimed.

"Give me it," Amari said, picking up the pitchfork. She looked at Nathan and smiled. "You be good person. I hit you not with hate, but with much thank."

Nathan nodded as Amari raised the handle of the pitchfork in her hand.

"Wait!" Polly cried.

Amari lowered her arm.

"Will we ever see you again?" she asked Nathan softly.

"Probably not. My father will beat me for sure when he figures out what has happened. But remember me, will you?" He grinned briefly, looked at Polly for a long moment, then said to Amari, "Do it! Hurry."

Amari swung firmly. The handle struck Nathan's head with a sickening thud, and he crumpled into the straw.

"Is he dead?" Tidbit asked. It was the first thing he had said all morning.

"No," Amari replied as she touched Nathan gently on the neck. "He be fine. Let us flee!" She grabbed Tidbit's hand and dashed out of the barn. Polly took one last glance at Nathan lying there, then followed them.

They hurried across the field, past the sharp edges of the palmetto palms, and deep into the darkness of the woods. Amari led them, as if by instinct, it seemed to Polly, due west, far away from their usual southern route. They dared not stop, but they slowed to catch their breath.

Exhaling with difficulty, Amari said softly, "Follow me." She led them quickly to an area where the ground they walked on was soft and squishy; water oozed between their toes as they walked. "Swamp," she told them.

"Snakes," Polly added, thinking of the slaves in the rice fields.

"Gators," Tidbit whispered fearfully.

"Safety," Amari told them all. "Nobody find us here." They held hands and slowly marched into the sucking ooze. The mud, covered by a shallow layer of liquid slime, seemed to try to grab them and pull them down with each step. Deeper and deeper they ventured into the swamp; soon the muck was to their knees. Thick mud covered their thighs, then their waists.

Amari had to lift Tidbit onto her hip as it became impossible for him to wade through it any longer. Finally, as deep into the swamp as they dared to go, under the shade of a huge mimosa tree with branches that were covered with hanging moss, they stopped. Birds called shrilly above. Something slithered past Polly's leg. She gasped but did not cry out.

They waited. The mud turned cold.