He and Tom worked the fields the way their father had taught them — one at one end of the field, the other at the opposite end. They assumed this had something to do with proper farming. It would be years before it dawned on them that it was Pap’s way of keeping the boys separated and focused on their work.
The two boys had been picking, weeding and pruning for an hour and it was time for a break. Autie signaled Tom. They dropped their rakes and hoes and ran along a dirt wagon trail running by one row of apple trees to the river. There, they quickly shed their shoes and socks and stretched out on the bank, chewing on blades of grass and dangling their feet in the cool water.
Farm work never ended, but somehow the boys always seemed to have time for fun. Their favorite activity was plotting a prank against another family member. All in the Custer family were fair game, but their favorite target was their little brother, Boston.
“Boston is such an easy mark,” Tom commented. “Seems like a sin to prank him.”
“Aww, a good prank is good for him,” Autie answered. “It’s up to us to make a man of him some day.”
“So what do you have planned?” Tom asked. Tom remembered their last prank. They must have missed the message at church that morning. They knew that Boston would find a reason to walk home past a certain little girl’s house. The boys planted a broken plank on the wooden sidewalk. The boys had stood watch to make sure no innocent passersby tripped before Boston happened along. When they saw Bos coming, they ducked behind the shrubbery.
The plan worked better than they had imagined. As Boston walked past, peering at the house for a glimpse of Sally Mae, he stepped firmly on the broken plank and hurdled head first onto the sidewalk, landing at the foot of the path to Sally Mae’s front porch. His fair damsel had run to his rescue, fussing over her red-faced admirer.
“She got an eyeful,” Tom thought and smiled to himself. “Well, tomorrow is his day to tend to the horses, isn’t it?” Autie began plotting.
“What if one of the horses was to go missing just about the time that Father comes in from the fields?”
Tom pondered the possibilities. “How are we going to lose a horse?”
Autie always had the answers. “We’ll have to delay Bos at lunch.” He paused as he sorted out some details in his mind. He ventured again eagerly. “This is going to be good.”
Autie started to talk faster as his plan took shape and his enthusiasm grew. “It will be like a double prank. We’ll get him when he visits the outhouse. I’ll jam the door. While he’s trying to get out, you go to the barn and hightail it over the ridge, just out of sight—not too far.”
Tom saw the plot coming together and nodded his approval. “Then while I’m off with the horse, I suppose you’ll be the fellow who gets to help Bos out. How come you always get to play the hero?” Tom added with only the slightest hint of jealousy.
“Just comes naturally,” Autie laughed. “It will be a good half hour or so before Bos figures out that he’s in trouble.” That will give him a few hours to sweat. Pap will come in from the field about mid-afternoon. He’ll be good and sore when he sees that Bos lost track of one of his customer’s horses.”
“But won’t Pap suspect something?” Tom asked.
“Sure, he will, but he likes a good prank as well as the next fellow.”
“So how do we end things?”
“I think the best prank needs to run full circle,” Autie said. “I’ll help them look for the horse — in all the wrong places, of course.” Both boys laughed.
“While I keep them busy tracking the trail to nowhere, you circle round with the horse. The next part is important. Tie the critter to the door of the outhouse. That’s when he’ll know he’s been had.” Autie was pleased with the plan. He was sure his father and brother would have a good laugh, if not today then years from now.
Tom and Autie pulled their feet from the brook. Each boy took a sock and dried his toes. They pulled their well-worn shoes on and headed back to the garden to reclaim their gardening tools. They’d talk again after dinner and put the final touches on their master plan. For now, the realities of farm life called them to work.
As they turned to head back toward the garden, they heard a noise. It was a soft rustling noise, but far too loud to be a bird or squirrel. Autie groped in the grass for a fallen tree branch to use as a weapon should one be needed. As they moved toward the brush, Autie started poking among the tall weeds with his branch. A young Negro boy darted from his hiding place and jumped into the water. Tom jumped after him and quickly overtook him. The boy did not fight back. Tom dragged him to the river edge.
+ + +
At the edge of the river, the three boys looked each other over. The Negro boy broke the silence. “You gonna turn me in?”
Autie and Tom were still thinking through what was happening.
Tom asked innocently. “Turn you in for what? What did you do?”
Autie punched Tom in the arm. “Tom, he’s a runaway.”
The boys continued to eye one another. All three heard the sound of a steamboat on the river. Autie thought quickly. “Come with us. We got to get you out of sight.”
The boys stooped low and ran away from the River Raisin towards the farmhouse and barn. They didn’t stop until they found shelter in the barn and closed the barn door behind them. Autie pointed toward an empty horse stall and the boys took refuge together behind a second closed door. “You’ll be safe here for now,” Autie said in a hushed voice. All three collapsed into the hay.
“Where are you headed?” Tom ventured.
The Negro boy was still hesitant to speak, but he weighed the facts. These boys had helped him, and he didn’t have anywhere else to turn.
“Canada,” he said. “Freedom. Can’t be far now. I be runnin’ fo’ weeks.”
Sam gasped for breath. He was both scared and excited.
Autie decided to take charge.
“Take it easy. You are safe for now. I’m George Armstrong Custer. This is my brother, Thomas. They call me Autie. They call him Tom. What do they call you.”
“Sam.” His one-syllable name was about all he could manage at the moment.
“Sam, you are indeed close to Canada. Why, if you can swim you are home free.”
“Can’t swim,” Sam admitted.
“We can swim,” Tom piped in. Autie shushed his younger brother. “That won’t help him now, will it, Tom?”
“Where are you running from?” Autie asked.
“Kentucky.”
“That’s horse country.” Tom said with excitement. “Can you ride?”
“Fo’ sure!” Sam said. Sam gained energy and confidence with the opportunity to speak with authority on a topic that clearly interested his newfound friends.
“Work horses mostly, but since I small, Master has me ride the fine horses now and ag’in. I keeps them in shape.”
Autie looked at the slave boy with a peculiar envy. Up until now, he had not given slavery much thought. His father and friends often discussed slavery around the Custer dinner table and at farmers’ meetings, but they seemed to be mostly concerned with farming economics, not the hearts and souls of the enslaved laborers. Autie was face to face with a slave for the first time, a boy near his own age…and this slave had access to the finest horses!
He shook off