Dosha squinted his eyes and scanned the horizon. It was hard seeing. The sun, moving down to meet the earth, no longer warmed the air, but its strong rays obscured the details in the distance.

It was a week since folks in Cabin Creek had gotten the news that slave hunters were around, tracking down the Jackson girls. Selena Jackson was eleven, a year older than Dosha. Her sister, Cornelia, was a couple of years younger. Dosha didn't much like girls, but these two were different from most. He had to admit that. They'd made their way to Cabin Creek, Indiana, from somewhere in Tennessee, over two hundred miles away. Hiding in thickets and caves during the day. Scrounging for food in barns, eating pig slop to keep from starving. They had traveled in the pitch black of night, crossing mountains and swamps. Their only guide had been the North Star. He didn't know how they'd done it, and had to admit that he wasn't sure that he could have.