Kathleen Kudlinski - Sojourner Truth: Voice of Freedom

SOJOURNER TRUTH

Voice for Freedom

Kathleen Kudlinski

Lenny Wooden

Lisa Vega

ALADDIN PAPERBACKS An imprint of Simon & Schuster Childrens Publishing Division 1230 Avenue of the Americas New York, NY 10020

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

Dear Reader:

The Childhood of Famous Americans series, seventy years old in 2002, chronicles the early years of famous American men and women in an accessible manner. Each book is faithful in spirit to the values and experiences that influenced the persons development. History is fleshed out with fictionalized details, and conversations have been added to make the stories come alive to todays reader, but every reasonable effort has been made to make the stories consistent with the events, ethics, and character of their subjects.

These books reaffirm the importance of our American heritage. We hope you learn to love the heroes and heroines who helped shape this great country. And by doing so, we hope you also develop a lasting love for the nation that gave them the opportunity to make their dreams come true. It will do the same for you.

Happy Reading!

The Editors

SOJOURNER
TRUTH
Voice for Freedom

illustrated by Lenny Wooden

by
KATHLEEN KUDLINSKI

illustrated by
LENNY WOODEN

ALADDIN PAPERBACKS
New York London Toronto Sydney Singapore

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

First Aladdin Paperbacks edition January 2003

Text copyright 2003 by Kathleen Kudlinski

Illustrations copyright 2003 by Lenny Wooden

ALADDIN PAPERBACKS
An imprint of Simon & Schuster
Childrens Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

All rights reserved, including the right of
reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

CHILDHOOD OF FAMOUS AMERICANS is a registered trademark of
Simon & Schuster, Inc.

ALADDIN PAPERBACKS and colophon are trademarks
of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

Designed by Lisa Vega

The text of this book was set in Adobe Garamond.

Manufactured in the United States of America

6 8 10 9 7 5

Library of Congress Control Number 2002107414

ISBN-13: 978-0-689-85274-9

ISBN-10: 0-689-85274-6

eISBN 978-1-439-11387-5

ILLUSTRATIONS

SOJOURNER
TRUTH
Voice for Freedom

Will it ever stop raining? Belle shivered in her thin cotton shift. She stood next to her brother as he watched guests arrive at Master Hardenberghs inn in Rifton, New York. The white people stepping out of the carriages were wrapped in cloaks and furs against the chilly fall air. Most of them didnt bother to notice the slave children standing at the corner of the porch. A few greeted them in Dutch, Goedenavond. Belle ducked her head, not daring to answer. One woman called, Good evening, then turned to her husband. Why, arent they just the cutest little things?

You know how I feel about slaves, the man said. Why, its 1806! Slavery should be outlawed, even out in the country like this.

Hush, dear, the woman scolded. Were guests here. And they went in through the door.

Peter pulled on Belles hand. What did they say?

I reckon good evening is English talk for goeden avond. Belle drew a circle in the cold mud with her toe, then added, I caint guess what all the rest of those words meant. That lady sounds squeally as a piglet, doan she? Peter giggled and Belle let herself smile.

Master Hardenberghs angry face appeared at the open top half of the door. Get to bed! he snarled. The slaves scampered back around the corner but stayed close enough to peek at the strangers. No one else came, so the children walked around to the back of the house. Belle cupped her hands to catch some of the water dripping off the eaves. Maybe it will be sunny tomorrow, she said softly. I could get dry and warm.

Winter comes before warm, Peter said.

The two slave children stood in the shelter of the eaves, gazing out through the rain in silence. Beyond the yard and a tidy stone wall, Black Creek swirled wide at the base of their hill. Past the empty fields stretching into the twilight, misty hills rose over a ragged tree line. In the distance Catskill Mountains loomed darkly. Somewhere out there the Hudson River flowed, deep and dangerous. Belle shivered again.

We share a blanket tonight, Belle told her brother. In the window over their heads light flickered from inside the room. There was a lantern lit in there, a fire, and hot food. Belle could hear the laughter of Master Hardenberghs guests and the clink of glasses. She stood on tiptoe in the mud and reached up to press her hands against the crack under the window. It felt warm against her fingertips.

Puddle! Startled by Peters voice, Belle stepped back. Her bare foot sank ankle deep into cold water. She stared. By the light from the window she saw a puddle lapping at the cellar step.

Weve got to stop it! Together the children pushed the mud into dams and dug channels, trying to keep the icy water from running down toward their beds.

Hands shoved the window open. Belle! Peter! Master Hardenbergh said. Its getting cold in here. Close the shutters. Be quick or you get a licking! The window slammed shut and the curtains were drawn. Belle and Peter reached up to unhook the heavy wooden shutters and swing them closed. Belle had to stretch to her full height to turn the latch that held the shutters. They moved to the next window, and the next.

Children? A tired voice called up from the darkness.

Yes, Mau Mau, Belle answered promptly.

Come inside.

Peter and Belle shuttered the last window, then padded down the stairs. Between them a thin trickle of water found its way over the sill and dripped downward. Quiet now, Mau Mau said from the far corner of the floor. Only eight, Belle was slender, graceful, and so tall she had to duck her head under the timbers of the ceiling above. Faint lantern light shone through the cracks in the floor of the inn. Even on the darkest night Belles feet knew the path back to her familys sleeping space in the corner of the cellar. To either side a dozen slaves lay snoring or whispering together in their places under ragged blankets. Mau Mau and Baumfree were talking quietly in the darkness.