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upon the Mississippi River and was awed at the width of it. It nearly took her breath away. Steamboats were coming and going, the smoke from their stacks rising in tall columns into the sky. As she approached, she heard the cries of men. To her left was a vessel with Lady Belle painted on the side. It was an ornate steamboat that carried passengers. She ignored that and moved down the line until finally she found a man wearing what looked like a captain’s hat.
    “Excuse me, sir. How can I get across the river?”
    “If you got fifty cents, you get on that boat right there. Give it to that fellow wearing the tall hat.”
    Following his instructions, Joelle paid her fifty cents and led Blackie onto the deck. It was a side-wheeler, and they had to wait for two hours, but finally the engines began to roar, and the wheel began to turn. She stood beside Blackie, holding him. His eyes were wide as the boat trembled beneath his hooves. Finally the ferry landed, and she got off. The man who opened the gate looked at her, and she asked, “Do you know how far it is to Fort Smith?”
    “Fort Smith? Why, that’s a long way. You’re in the eastern part of Arkansas. Fort Smith is way out there to the west. Roads are pretty bad. Besides, a woman don’t need to be traveling through there. Some folks can be dangerous.”
    “Well, how would you get there?”
    “Was I you, I’d go to Little Rock. It’s near about a hundred miles or so. The road ain’t too bad, and there’s a railroad that goes from Little Rock right into Fort Smith.” He cocked his head to one side and said, “Ain’t you got a pa or a husband maybe?”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “Then you be careful, missy. Lots of bad folks around, especially around Fort Smith.”
    “Thank you.” Joelle swung into the saddle and rode Blackie off the ramp, and soon found the road that led to Little Rock. She rode until dark, stopping at noon to rest and to eat from her sparse supplies—more bacon, biscuits, and peaches from a can. As it grew dark, she pulled up beside a house that was off the road about a hundred yards. It looked run-down, but when she called out, a woman came out on the porch.
    “I’m looking for a place to stay the night. I can pay.”
    “You can stay the night. Put your horse in the barn.”
    “Thank you.” Joelle led Blackie into the barn, fed him, and went into the house.
    “You et yet?” the woman asked. She was a tall, raw-boned woman with worn features and weary eyes.
    “Not yet.”
    “I just made some venison stew. It ain’t bad. I got some fresh bread.”
    “That sounds good.”
    “I’m Elmus Jeeter.”
    “I’m Jo Ann Jones.” Joelle made up a name quickly and then at Mrs. Jeeter’s bidding sat down at the table. “This is good stew,” she said as she ate hungrily and accepted another bowl.
    “Where you bound for, missy?”
    “Oh, I’m going to Little Rock.”
    “You got family there?”
    “No, not there. I’ll be going farther on. What are the roads like?”
    “Well, they been snowed-under, but that’s mostly melted. Bad time to be on the roads.”
    Joelle ate the stew and then a big wedge of apple pie and washed it down with coffee. She made her excuses and went to the bedroom that Mrs. Jeeter showed her. She had not brought a nightgown so she took off her outer clothes and shivered under the blanket but went to sleep almost at once.
    * * *
    JOELLE WOKE UP THE next day feeling rested but still nervous. When she went downstairs, Mrs. Jeeter said, “I got ham and some eggs. Day before Christmas. Not much of a Christmas meal.”
    “It smells so good.” Joelle ate the breakfast, paid the woman, and asked, “What’s the next town?”
    “Forrest City. Ain’t much of a town though.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Jeeter.”
    Joelle saddled Blackie, mounted, and left. She rode all that day, passing through Forrest City, and late that night she founda vacant barn. She wanted to see as few people as possible so if Harper put out word