When I reached Pa, he looked serious but not mad. "Get on up here next to me," he growled. Guess I was going to get chewed on for something. I bit down on my lip. My legs got wobbly; my stomach churned like white-water waves were crashing in it. "What you want?" I asked. "Thought maybe you'd like to try steering for a spell." His voice was gentler now. I nodded and got up next to him, stood with my hand on the oar. Pa stayed right behind me, covering his hand over mine. We rode like that for a ways. Didn't think I'd ever been that close to Pa since Ma died, except when he had a mind to cuff me. That was strange. "You got the feel of it?" he asked. "Ayah," I said. " 'Bout like steering a sled that's flying downhill over the snow." "Yup, that's it," Pa said. He chuckled like he'd been tickled good. Then Pa took his hands away, stepped back, and I was steersman. It was glorious. Better than a birthday, better than winning a spelling bee. I knew it was an easy stretch, the way we glided along as slick as anything, but I still felt the power of the river coming up through that oar, the danger and the thrill. Pa took the other rear oar, and Rastus walked up to the front with Jasper. "Pull Pennsylvania," I hollered, and they did. Could be that I was the only girl steering a raft on this whole mighty river. That was really something. "Holt t'other way," I yelled, and they did that too. Soon enough, Pa came back over. "You got the gift," he whispered. HILL HAWK HATTIE by Clara Gillow Clark. Copyright (c) 2003 by Clara Gillow Clark. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA. Excerpted from Hill Hawk Hattie by Clara Gillow Clark All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
