Megan's Mare (The Problem Pony)

Megan Dodson,

waiting at the railroad station for Berry, the "problem pony" her father has agreed to try to "straighten out,"

is

startled to receive

message from the open door of the baggage car in which Berry has been a

transported.

Get

me

out of here.

words in my head, but I didn't know where they came from. It was just a feeling, suddenly, that I

felt

the

come

me

from the direction of the baggage car, a dark wave of fear and anger and the feeling of someone calling. "Get me out of

seemed

to

here."...

the

into

The ramp was

baggageman was

in

place and

leading a horse

Then her stare collided mine, and knew. The message

into view.

with

.

.

.

I

had come from her The bond formed

in

that

first

aston-

moment proves strong and true. Megan finds that her mind is often

ishing

attuned to Berry's. But the strange terror that comes when the pony is forced

on wood belongs to Berry's mysterious past, and Megan is determined to solve that mystery. Lynn Hall's warm and touching story

to step

Illuminates a special, inexplicable rapport.

811;

46

Megan's

Man

OTHER BOOKS BY LYNN HALL The Leaving The Horse Trader Danza! Half the Battle

Tin Can Tucker

LYNN HALL

Megan s Mare

CHARLES SCRIBNEKS SONS

•

NEW YORK

——

Copyright

©

1983 Lynn Hall

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Hall,

Megan's mare.

Lynn.

Summary: Eleven-year-old Megan, daughter

of a

Yorkshire horse trainer, finding she has a special

bond

with the beautiful problem mare Berry, determines to help her overcome her fear of

[L Horses

—

Fiction]

PZ7.H1458Me

wooden

Fiction. 2. Horses I.

bridges.

—Training

Title.

1983 [Fie] ISBN 0-684-17874-5

83-3009

This book published simultaneously in the United States of America and in Canada Copyright under the Berne Convention. All rights reserved.

may be reproduced

No

in

part of this book

any form without the

permission of Charles Scribner's Sons. 1

3 5 7 9 11 13 15 17 19

FK/C

20 18 16 14 12 10 8 6 4 2

Printed in the United States of America.

Megan s Mare

When I look back on my life, which I seldom have time to do, ing

to

it

seems to

mother's old hunter.

into segments accord-

there

First

horses.

fall

I

was Terrance,

taught myself to stand and

walk by pulling myself up on Terrance's groping about his legs. Or so they tell me.

Then pony.

He was

stripe

down

as I

was Tiger, a

there

his

back and a

At the time,

But to

I

Uttle

tail

and

dun native

a lovely sandy color with a black

outgrew him, there were

children do.

my

I

took

my

mop

of a

mane. And

others. life for

granted, as

assumed everyone lived

later I realized

how

have been bom into

as I did.

incredibly lucky

my family.

all

I

was

We dales.

had a

bit of a

Back then

it

farm up

was

all

in the Yorkshire

lovely rolhng fields

and meadows crisscrossed with stone walls and hawthorne hedges, and misted over with heather.

The roads were

soft dirt tracks just right for gal-

loping about on, with few motorcars to smell up the place and frighten the horses.

As less

grew

I

older,

my

dad gradually became

farmer and more horse

had a way with them, and

trainer.

so

He'd always

had Mum, and ap-

parently his reputation got about. Folks began

sending him their problem animals for schooling.

Mum

worked

sponded

at

I

Some

too.

to her better than to

into the business

sent us a

it,

from time

pony too small

did the riding, and

of the horses re-

Dad. Even

to time,

to carry

Dad

I

got

when someone an adult. Then

yelled directions at

me

from the paddock fence. It didn't

grand

earn us

much of a living, but it was

life.

Then Dad began combing

the local livestock

sales in search of likely-looking horses.

of "likely"

and

a

ill

cheaply,

His idea

was an animal that was thin and poor

They could always be bought given some good care and a bit of trainused.

ing to iron out any vices they might have, and sold at a considerable profit later on.

One evening Dad answered

was handed

door, read the note that

Mum,

said to

a knock on the

"I've a telephone message, love.

Be back in a shake." And he

left.

pub

nearest telephone was at the

The

and

to him,

in

my

the village two miles away. People wanting

dad would phone the pub and leave a message, and Dad would go down, return the call, and come home a few hours later, grinning and smelling of I

After

ale.

was eleven years

Dad

"We

left, I said,

telephone, couldn't we. past here. It gives

I

think

old,

fool.

own

could have our

Mum? The line

Dad

him an excuse

and nobody's

goes right

likes it better this

to sit

way.

around that place,

evenings, drinking with his friends."

Mum looked at me and smiled calmly. "Why does he need an men in the neighborhood

I said,

the other

evenings

down

there,

spend

their

and they don't pretend

because of the telephone. go

excuse? All

Why

doesn't

Dad

it's

just

down there?" She

bit off her

sewing thread and knotted

it

expertly.

"T wouldn't be

as

much

fun for him,

he didn't think he was putting one over on Don't you spoil

it

if

us.

for him."

my

I

was

pretty sure that most of the messages the

pub

agreed, but

I

had

I

suspicions.

owner's son brought were fakes. But that evening there

had been a genuine phone

When Dad came home "Megan,

there's a horse

he said

And mind you a bit of a

To what

I

it

me,

home. Don't

it

home.

try to ride

it.

actor, apparently."

he

said,

down by

"That was Greenlanes

Harrogate.

Wanted me

rid-

to see

could do with the mare. Said she's pretty

as a picture

want

bad

Mum

ing stable,

lead

to

coming on the morning

tomorrow. You'll have to go fetch

train

It's

call.

and

all

but

to ride her,

and even the owners

the young riding students

unmanageable,

she's gotten

can't handle her

now. Won't

cross bridges, bolting for the barn, that sort of

thing."

Mum

nodded. "Sounds

like

that old

bad

combination, a smart horse and a lot of timid

beginner

riders.

No

be too much of a job out.

Did you buy

the stable?"

proper discipline. Shouldn't to get the

her, or are

mare straightened

we

training her for

"We

up

left it a bit

"They'd

settling into his chair.

we

back

if

don't

want

in the air," like to

can break her of her to

spend a

lot

vices,

on training

a very prosperous stable,

take

I

Dad

it.

said,

have her but they not

fees. It's

We'll just see

how it goes." Next morning

good time and

my

got

I

barn chores done in

set out for the train station

two

miles away. It was a grand morning, early June

and warm, and the of wildflowers

was

air

rich with the smells

and succulent

bounced along with me their side of the

grass.

New

as I walked,

hedge and

me

lambs

them on

on mine, but shar-

ing the morning anyway.

At the railway

station

wagon drumming my

I

sat

on the baggage

heels against

its

tires

and

exchanging news and gossip with Henry, the station master.

the place with It

Then its

the train was there,

filling

and noise and excitement.

size

hissed to a silent stop finally,

and the door

of

the baggage car rolled open.

Get

me out of here.

I felt

the words in

my head, but I didn't know

where they came from. denly, that

seemed

rection of the

to

It

was

come

baggage

just a feeling, sud-

into

car, a

me

from the

di-

dark wave of fear

and anger and the feeling of someone

calling,

me out of here."

"Get

The

sensation

was new

to

me, and

it

left

me

shaken. But there was no time to think about

it

now. The ramp was in place and the baggage-

man was

leading a horse into view, in the square

of sunlight that illuminated the inside of the car.

"Ohh,"

I

breathed.

She was a picture.

A

small, fine-boned mare,

a strawberry roan, light rose in color, with a silver

mane and

shaded

to a

tail,

deep rust

and her red.

legs

and head

Her head was thrown

back, her nostrils flaring, her eyes white-rimmed

and

staring in terror.

Then her stare collided with mine, and knew. The message had come from her.

6

I

I

waited for the baggageman to lead her

down

The mare put one foot on the wooden ramp, then backed away from it, terrified. He urged, she balked. The more he urged, the more the ramp.

grimly the I

see

her

little

red mare refused.

ramp myself, to could lead her down, when the mare made

was about

if I

own

to

decision.

backed swiftly

come up

the

She lowered her head and

into the

shadows of the

car,

then

burst out toward me, clattering, leaping out into the air

and landing wide-eyed and wide-legged

on the ground. Her Instinctively

I

feet hadn't

touched the ramp.

grabbed the rope before she

had time

"There now,"

you

I

feel like a

Never mind,

her wits and bolt away.

collect

to

my voice,

soothed her with

bloody

"don't

behaving that way?

fool,

we'll teach you.

Come

along then.

We'll go home."

signed Henry's delivery receipt and led the

I

horse out onto the road toward home.

little

we were out of sight who might tell Dad, back and settled

of the station, I

When

and anyone

jumped onto the mare's home.

in for the ride

I

remem-

bered Dad's instructions to lead her home, but it

went against every

stinct in

when

my

there

ing for

fiber of

my

being, every in-

nature, to lead a horse for

two miles

was that lovely glossy back

just wait-

my bottom.

She went along quietly for me. She seemed

worn out by the tension

of the train journey,

walked along calmly, nodding her head with her step and letting her ears I

relaxed, too,

in

and

rhythm

relax.

and stroked the sunset-pink

neck and thought about the mare. Berry, her

name

was.

Dad had

said last night that she

was

a five-year-old, half-thoroughbred, half-New Forest pony.

As

I

studied her

I

could almost read

her pedigree in the lines of her body. Her head

8

and neck showed a thoroughbred elegance, but her body was short-coupled and her legs a bit

more sturdy than a thoroughbred's. And her not

much more

size,

than thirteen hands, was pure

New Forest. Her

size

was a godsend

for

me. She was too

Mum

small to carry Dad, even too small for

Mum

ride comfortably, since feet tall herself less

and

felt

stood close to

to six

out of place on any horse

than a sixteen-hand hunter.

And

so, I figured,

work with.

I

Berry would be mine to

loved her already.

I

loved her beauty,

her silvery-rose color, her miniature-thoroughbred elegance. But then

about almost

all

I

found something

to love

of the horses that passed through

my life. About a mile from home we came across a

narrow stream.

It

to a bridge

was an old arching

stone bridge, earth-floored, with grass growing

along the edges. As

whether risk

we

approached,

debated

I

to try to ride her across the bridge

having her balk, or to ride

wade her

across

the

stream.

off the

road and

Attempting the

bridge would be dangerous, not because

be thrown but because

9

I

and

I

might

was not prepared

to

force her across,

whip or

if

she should refuse.

and no

stick or spurs,

had no

I

bit in her

mouth,

nothing but the halter and lead rope. Very poor controls with

which

to

go into battle with a stub-

born horse.

was

One

of Dad's firmest rules, in training horses,

that

we must never

better of us.

were

allow the horse to get the

Never give a command unless we

in a position to enforce

it.

horse to feel that he was boss.

I

Never allow a

knew

that

if

I

rode Berry at the bridge, and she refused to cross it,

I

would be unable

would have won the

to force her across battle.

and she

This would prove to

her that she was dominant over me, as she apparently had been over the children at the riding stable. I

should never be able to train her prop-

erly, after that,

because she would not respect

me. So,

know I

reluctantly,

if I

because

I

was curious

to

could have ridden her over the bridge,

turned her

oflF

of the road

and we splashed

through the stream. Just before

down from

my

home came

into

view

I

slipped

Berry's back, brushed her hairs from

trouser legs,

and led her sedately

farmyard.

10

into the

Dad was jumps

in the

schooling a young hunter over the

low meadow, and

Mum

and the

veterinary had their heads together over old Terrance,

who had

past thirty, and

she was I

had belonged

Mum

to

ever since

my age.

put Berry in an empty

stall

and brought her

food and water, then stood outside the

with the sun on

Our with each

stall

the square.

was a

was quite

of dressed flint

it

the third side of

was a dear old

place,

Now

all

the

and then

in the side gardens,

way

Mum

flower beds, and

it

seldom came

Once when

ill

Mum

was

the side garden so that

my window,

made

I

to the

tried to

but she was

interested in the horses than in

I

hundred

and dark timbers and creamy

places.

grow flowers

more

L-shaped building

old, four or five

with vines that grew

tiles in

door

opening directly onto the cobble-

years in parts, but

roof

long,

Our house formed It

stall

my back, watching her.

stable

stone yard.

plaster,

He was

chronic foot problems.

to

weeding anything.

turned Tiger loose in

could pet him through

and the flower beds were never quite

the

same

off

a rose so neatly that no thorn ever touched

after that. Tiger could eat the blossom

his lips.

11

Eventually the veterinary drove away and

Dad brought he and

his

hunter in from the jumps, and

Mum came to see Berry. Dad said,

"Bit small, isn't she?"

"Not for some people," a

I

frowning.

chirped.

He gave me

wry look.

Mum

said,

"Did she lead home

right,

all

Megan?" "She didn't give

Mum of

my

twisting her

me

a bit of trouble."

head back

pants, then raising her

I

saw

to look at the seat

eyebrow

me.

at

I

turned slightly away from her too-knowing eyes

and went

on.

"She didn't want to come

from the baggage afraid of

jumped

though.

the

way

Seemed

to the ground.

ramp

the

Finally she took a run at

it.

all

car,

down

be

to it

and

Missed the

ramp completely."

Dad smart

"Hmm," and nodded.

said,

little

thing,

thoroughbred-pony

I've

no

cross-breds

"She's

doubt. are

a

These

like

that

sometimes. They've got the sensitivity of the

thoroughbred and the wiliness of a pony. They can be tough as

nails to train, these

They challenge you every

12

smart ones.

step of the way,

and

they watch for any sign of weakness on your

and then they take advantage. But

part,

you

if

can master them, ah, then you have something. Spirit

and brains and heart and

"Will you let

Dad

mum

and

me work

with her?"

snorted. "I expect I,

either one,

that fine-boned

I'll

I

have

asked.

Your

to.

would be too heavy

for

frame. But you're not to

little

ride her until I can

sensitivity."

be there

to give

you a hand.

I

won't have you taking chances with her, understand?"

my

horse-

That evening we turned Berry out

in the

Meekly

marked small

I

nodded and turned

trousers to the stable wall.

meadow behind

the house, to let her stretch

her legs and relax and graze.

Next morning

at breakfast

Dad

said,

"I'm

going to work Grahame over the jumps for a

Megan. Then

we'll

have a go

bit,

at the little roan

mare. You can be getting her caught up and

groomed, and see Let's try a

if

mullen-mouth pelham

"Spot on, chief," last of

my

there's a bridle to

I said,

porridge on

out the back

way and

fit

her.

bit first."

and scraped up the

my way

to the sink. I ran

across the wild-grown back

13

garden

low stone wall of the meadow.

to the

Berry was grazing a called

I

distance away.

little

and she ignored me. Understandable

enough.

climbed the wall and approached her. She

I

watched, calmly, until

and

was

I

then turned

close,

trotted away.

All right,

still

understandable.

pulled up a

I

handful of grass and followed her, offering the grass.

Again she watched

until I

drew

near, then

moved away. She was playing games with me.

and she knew

it.

I

knew

She had the run of a lush mead-

ow, and she had no desire to be caught and den.

I

knew

that

I

if

if I

gave up and

be her master.

I

let

could run.

her win,

and came back, determined She looked at the I

knew

would never

to get her.

oats,

had the

laughing at me, at

my

and she looked

feeling that she

at

was

transparent attempt to

bribe her into captivity with oats.

She turned and strolled away. I

I

I also

ran to the stable for a pan of oats

I

me. Suddenly

rid-

ran after her she would

gallop away, faster than that

it

followed.

14

Around and

meadow we

across the

walked.

When I stopped, Berry stopped, too, and put down her head to graze. But

when

two or three yards, we were she with calm amusement,

Dad appeared "That's

while. her. ril

it,

'

he

at

walking,

with grim patience.

and watched "You can

called.

go lunge the yearlings for a

nodded

I

closer than

off again,

at the wall

when you're ready to

a call

I

came

I

bit.

for a

outlast

Give

me

"If

we

hot.

My

ride."

him and muttered,

haven't both died of old age before then."

The morning passed. The sun grew shirt stuck to

weak. I

I

my

back and

my

hoped the mare was

as

legs

grew wobbly

uncomfortable as

was, but she appeared to be enjoying our four-

back and

hour

stroll

small

meadow.

forth, 'round

Some time around midday a sausage

roll

and a jug

and 'round the

Mum brought me

of cold water.

I

ate

and

drank, and trudged on.

"Keep seat

it

up,"

on the shady

sooner or

cheered from her cool

wall. "She's

bound

to give in

later."

This time

been punished It

Mum

I

muttered something

for saying,

was past two

if

o'clock

15

Mum when

I'd

have

had heard. Berr>' finally

me to come up to and we looked long and

stopped and stood and allowed her. I

gripped her halter

hard at one another. The challenge was in her eyes.

Faking

ing at this point,

I

aflfection I

far

there

from

feel-

crooned to her and rubbed

her neck and praised her.

and gave her a few

oats

was

still

I

led her to the

pan of

bites.

Then I turned her loose.

Mum

by

the wall,

you six

let

and Dad were both watching from

Mum

this time.

her loose

for,

"What did

called,

you goose? You

just

spent

hours catching her."

But Dad understood. "Good show, Meg," he

called.

As soon too

still

as I

young

Dad

to

was old enough understand

me

to listen,

much

of

but

what he

about training horses.

I

think he liked to hear his theories voiced, and

I

said,

was

talked to

his only audience.

Mum had her own theories

and would get impatient

at

having to

listen to

his. I

didn't always understand

but one thing he stay with me.

said, early

Think

like the

on

what he

told

me,

in our talks, did

horse thinks, he told

me. You Ve got to put yourself inside that ani-

16

maFs

way he

brain, see things the

sees them,

and then outfox him. So today

I

thought as Berry would think.

If

being caught always led to being ridden, then

being caught was

to

be avoided. But

if

being

caught meant praise and petting and a snack of

and then freedom again,

oats,

and no bad

things, then being

something

be avoided

to

after

Berry walked away from

good things

all

caught was not

all.

me and

aching legs to follow her. This time

I

forced

it

my

took less

than an hour to catch her. Again she was praised

and given I

oats,

and again she was

released.

rolled into the long cool grass

under a

tree,

and dozed and rested while Berry grazed nearby.

When

I felt

ready,

caught hold of her

I

got up, walked to her, and

halter. It

might have been

my

imagination, but this time her eyes seemed to

glow more

softly,

with perhaps even a glimmer of

respect.

17

When

Berry allowed

fuss next morning, I

me

to catch her

without a

was triumphant. The

battle

was mine.

The

battle, perhaps,

the opening skirmish.

but

it

proved

The war was

to

be only

yet to be

fought.

We

paddock with Dad

started in the small

watching from the fence. Before Berry had carried

me more

that our

me

illicit

than a half-dozen steps ride

home from

a poor sample of this

rested

and well

fed,

the train

little

I

realized

had given

horse.

under saddle and

Today, bridle.

Berry became a feather of a horse. She arched

18

her neck and came up on that bit hke a profes-

touch of her sensitive mouth

sional, so that the

was

my

in

The curve her,

hands, but not the weight of her head.

body

of her

fit

my

legs,

and, riding

beautiful.

I felt

After a bit

rode over to

I

Dad and

said,

"She must not have been a riding stable horse very long. She's not the least bit hard-mouthed."

He

on her way obvious work.

I

Mum, who was To me he said, "It's

turned and beckoned to

the

to the stable.

mare doesn't need any paddock

want you

trek, find

some

to take

her out for a good long

bridges. Ev,

why

don't you go

along with her on Terrance." I

didn't

mind

his

knew what he was

sending

Mum

along.

I

doing, using Terrance as a

steadying influence on Berry.

He

often used Ter-

rance as a teacher with a frightened young horse.

Terrance was a huge, rawboned chestnut with age-hollows about his eyes and a good deal of

gray on his face. The sideboard in our dining

room was lined with trophies

Mum

and Terrance

had won, steeplechasing, when they were both young.

Even now,

as

we

jogged

19

down

the

summer

road, Terrance looked eagerly at the fences

passed, hoping for one

fences

more chase over

fields

we and

a pack of excited horses and gaily

in

shouting riders.

One

Mum

of the nice things about riding with

was that

was almost hke riding

it

alone.

She hummed, sometimes sang, sometimes

di-

rected a remark to her horse, but almost never

spoke to me. That

me

left

free to savor

my

horse

and the morning.

when we began

Berry bucked a few times cantering, but

and she

settled

insisted.

Our

home, ride

mare

down

first

willingly

real test

at the bridge that I

home from I

was no more than high

it

spirits,

enough when

came

I

a mile from

had avoided on the

the station.

braced myself for a

but the

battle,

little

trotted across the bridge at Terrance's side

without so

much

as a hesitation.

At the

far side,

we stopped. "Well now,"

Mum

barley-cake, wasn't

it?

said, "that

Want

to

was a

try

it

bit of

without

Terrance?"

"Good

idea."

I

turned Berry around and

headed her over the bridge, away from Terrance.

20

Again she trotted willingly across the grassy earth floor of the ancient bridge. Mum and I shrugged at

each other, and rode on.

We jumped a very low

gate and

had an easy

canter across a sheep

meadow. Then,

for Terrance's years,

we slowed

to

in respect

an ambling

walk and entered a track through a beech wood. The trees here were so tall and so dense at the top that they shaded out the undergrowth and left

a forest floor carpeted with mosses

flowers.

The sun came through

in

and wild-

shafts

and

made it seem a magic place. Midway through the wood was a stream spanned by a rattly wooden bridge. It was flat with the ground, and no more than ten feet across,

but there were spaces between the planks where the sparkhng stream water

many it

the

of our horses first

This,

I

were nervous about crossing

time. I

knew, would be a sterner

Berry than the road.

showed through, and

test for

solid,

earth-covered bridge on the

my

determination and set her at

gathered

the bridge just behind the steady Terrance.

Ca-lop, ca-lop, ca-lop, Terrance crossed the bridge.

21

Berry placed one hoof on the

board,

first

then drew back. I felt

my mind

fear sifting into

like a

And yet it was not my fear. "Come along, love, it's perfectly

fog.

rance went across, and you can, too," I

safe. I

dark

Ter-

told her.

tried desperately to block out the terror that

was threatening

to

swamp my mind.

Berry backed, turned, tried to spin away

my

from

my

hold on her.

legs as

hard as

I

I

wouldn't

could, I

let her.

Using

pushed her toward

the bridge. She planted her feet and froze.

I

turned her in small circles to break the balk, then aimed her at the bridge again.

Suddenly she began backing. She backed toward the

swiftly for several steps, then leaped

bridge.

"Good

girl," I

shouted.

She gathered herself and leaped, a magnificent

broad jump that cleared the bridge and

landed us safely on the other

side.

Mum, I grinned ruefully. which one of us won that round." Joining

"You got her across

it,"

to call

it

a

tie, this

time."

22

wonder

Mum said.

"Yes, but she didn't step

have

"I

on

it.

I

expect we'll

We

Mum

rode on,

me

nizable tune, and

whistling

some unrecog-

trying not to think of that

curious dark fear, so like the feeling that

come over me

in the train station

had

when Berry

arrived.

After that day

every morning. As to

show some

first it

day or so

rode out alone on Berry

I

it

became

routine, she

began

of her riding stable attitude. it

was pleasant

became an everyday

the countryside she

for her.

job to carry

began

to object.

The

But when

me

about

She had

al-

ready learned, through experience at the stable with inexperienced the

fussed,

riders, that

turned out to pasture again. that she

was lazy

as

it

she balked and

ended and she was

usually

ride

if

was

It

was not

that she

and she had learned that people

so

much

was smart, could

be

tricked.

She was smart and she was stubborn, but then so was

I.

refused to go,

When I

she planted her feet and

turned her toward home, then

quickly turned her again,

sometimes spinning

her in a circle several times until she was tired

and dizzy and willing aimed

to

go in any direction

I

her.

She quit balking and switched

23

to

another

tactic

—backing up. We had almost reached the

edge of the

one afternoon when Berry

village

stopped in the middle of the road and began to go backward. "All right,

you bloody cow,"

I

want to back up, well back up." I let her carry me backward ready

to stop.

ened the

reins

But

I

wouldn't

let

swore, "you

until she

her stop.

was

I tight-

and commanded, "Back."

Back we went, up the

hill,

around the curve,

past the Overbys' and the Jacksons'.

Jackson strolled past

Michael

heading toward town

us,

with his sheepdog at his heels.

"Morning, Michael,"

I

said as

we backed past

him. "Mornin', Meg."

He

turned to look curiously

after us.

On we went, backward. Sheep appeared around Berry's

legs;

the

Kentwoods' flock was being moved from one sheep run to another. Berry tensed as the gray tide separated itself

and flowed around

her, to

pour

together in front of us.

"Morning, Mr. Kentwood. Lovely day, it?"

24

isn't

The

old

man

just stared at us

and shook

his

head.

By now Berry was legs

were

tired of the

asking for release.

unaccustomed

Her

strain of

going backward. Finally, after more than a mile, I let

her stop.

"Now will you go forward?" I asked her.

We went forward. After that

I

thought the war was won. Most

would have conceded leadership before now. But I underestimated Berry's stamina and

horses

stubbornness.

Her next maneuver was much more dangerous than balking or backing. She began bolting toward trees with low-hanging branches, at-

tempting

to

knock

enough pony's it

in

my

trick,

me

off.

but

It

was a common

was dismayed

I

beautiful Berry's repertoire.

the matter was that

I

was

in love

The

to find

truth of

with the

little

rose-and-silver devil. I

was already determined

keeping her for me. Since hadn't had a horse of

my

Dad

of figuring, I

with

the help I'd given

25

into

outgrown Tiger

own, and according

had more than earned

my way all

I'd

to talk

Dad

I

to

one,

in training ponies.

Mum

had Terrance and Dad had Behemoth,

mammoth

bucket-footed hunter. So

fident that

Dad

But only

was only

it

should have Berry, and

just that I

could break her of

this

dangerous tree-branch business. Even

my

ents' casual confidence in

con-

felt

I

could be talked around to

if I

it.

new and

my

So far neither of them had seen Berry do

was

just a

par-

horsemanship prob-

ably wouldn't stretch to cover that sort of

it

his

risk.

it,

but

matter of time.

There was one tree especially suited for Berry's evil purpose, an oak with a strategically

placed limb. So far

had escaped the limb by

I

leaning low over her neck as she swept under

but still she continued I

it,

to try.

rode her past the tree deliberately, hoping

would decide

that eventually she to try to

knock

me

off.

One

it

was

useless

we

passed

afternoon

the tree seven times, back and forth, and every

we neared

time

the tree she

the bit in her teeth

On turn her

some

I

my

patience ran out. She

hauled away on the

away from

instinct

to snatch

and dash toward the limb.

the eighth pass

dashed, and

managed

rein, trying to

the tree. At the last second

made me

shift

26

my

weight

to the

other rein. She was caught off balance, and she

cracked headlong into the tree trunk. I

When lying

flew head over teakettle onto the grass. I

flat

regained

my

breath and rose, Berry was

out on the grass.

"Oh, no, don't be dead,"

I cried.

She raised her head, shook with dazed eyes.

I

it,

stared at

me

took her bridle and urgedjier

up.

ing.

"Come up now,

there's a love."

She staggered

to

Gradually her body steadied and her eyes

began at

her feet and stood, sway-

to focus.

She raised her head and looked

me.

She seemed overcome with awe.

27

The change able to

Mum

crash, they

home

was not

in Berry's attitude

and Dad

since,

had only seen us

again a few hours

They had only

my

ride

later,

reports

of,

so notice-

before the tree

away and come day

after day.

"She's

coming

along," to go by.

But

to

me, knowing the truth about her

former behavior. Berry seemed a changed horse.

There were no more treacherous dashes toward trees.

She backed only when

I

asked her

to,

she balked almost never. Apparently, her sion with the tree convinced her, once all,

that

I

and

colli-

and

for

was more powerful than she was. And,

28

true to equine nature, she

bowed

my hands.

authority and laid her trust in

From

on our

that point

mutual pleasure of that

me

her

rides reverted to the

earlier ride.

Having given

Berry became relaxed, supple as an

trust,

and perfectly

athlete,

to the superior

legs, the shifting

balance of

were a

two of

pair, the

hands,

my

weight. Oh,

we

in tune with

my

us, full of

my

summer

sun-

shine, full of ourselves.

On

the

first

village holds a like a fair

Sunday

in

warm-up

August each

point-to-point.

than a horse race, but

it's

year, our It's

more

great fun and

of course our family always rode in

it.

It

was

originally intended as a sort of practice run for

the serious season.

who

But

could

hunters,

before

the

start

it

had become a

free-for-all.

sit

a horse joined

in,

ranged from Shetland ponies

to

of

their

Anyone

and the mounts plow horses

to a

handful of actual hunters.

The

three of us started out early that morn-

on Berry, Dad of course on Behemoth,

ing,

I

and

Mum

on Feckless, a neat

Arab who was

in for training. It

but not as bad as

it

little

bay Anglo-

was a warm day

might have been; there was

a cool north breeze.

29

"

The

Standing in horses

was our

starting place

my

stirrups, I

counted at

green.

least thirty

and ponies milling about. There was a

delay of nearly an hour while latecomers to

village

who might wander

remove Berry's saddle and

we waited in. I

let

for

any

used the time

her rest in the

shade beside the pub.

My

friend Janey Oxberger appeared

came over

me. She was as black-haired as

to join

named Richard

her horse, a chunky Fell pony Lionheart,

and

whom

she had inherited from a string

of older brothers

and

sisters.

We

seldom saw

each other during the summer, because the horses

me busy and Janey carried a heavy load of own chores, but it was a good strong friend-

kept her

ship nonetheless. "I say,

Meg,

that's a

beauty," she said, nod-

ding to Berry. "Is she yours, or just here for training?" "It's

ing,

not decided yet.

We

took her for train-

from a stable down by Harrogate, but they

said they'd sell her, especially

if

the training

ran too high, and I'm trying to talk ting

me keep her.

We

— She's

Dad

were interrupted by a shout

30

bill

into let-

for atten-

from Edward Overby, who was race chair-

tion

man.

jmnped

I

my

to

feet

and began saddhng

Berry. "Attention, please. We'll begin in just a

minutes now. You

but

them

ril tell

to

all

know

few

the rules of the race,

you one more time so we don't

He

have any

fights

down

two young men who had exchanged

at

about

good-natured blows

"The open no

last

rules are,

scowled

year after the race.

same

may

always, you

as

you may ride no more than a hun-

gates,

dred yards

this year."

it

down

a road.

You may not

ride in

any

cultivated field nor through any farmyard. Other

may go any way you

than that, you

want. First

rider across the finish line at Minsterbury

is

the

winner."

Janey and ing

line.

I

rode into the pack at the

I'd lost sight of

didn't matter.

I

had no chance

tensed, of

Mum

and

and Dad but

so did Berry.

winning the

start-

We

it

had

race, not against

the great, leggy thoroughbred hunters that pep-

pered the pack. The glory was in the ride and leaned into

it,

into the silence

and the pressure

I

of

the wait.

In accordance with some old and ridiculous

31

—

pretense that this was a hunt, the starting cry "

was *View-hallooooo over a low

rail

fence into Overby's sheep run.

went down-fence a

smaller ponies to a

slowed

gallop. It

sterbury over hilly fences, hedges,

speed, and first

I

to

of

be jumped along

more than

wear Berry out

in

mile.

meadow we

from previous races Although

point-to-point,

in

miles to Min-

a test of endurance

wall and into the next

None

six

with a score

country,

didn't intend to

Across the

rides.

was

and streams

was

the way. It

safely.

burst of speed most of us

first

hand

to a

The

short distance

low spot where they could hop over After the

the

pub and

us leaping forward, past the

It sent

of the

it

and

sailed,

over a stone

knew the way well and from my own rambling field. I

was a casual neighborhood all in

fun,

it

was a good

course.

jumps were high or dangerous, and

most places the more timid

riders,

or the

smaller ponies, could detour to a gap in the

downed rail in the fence. They wouldn't be among the winners that way, but

hedge, or a

they'd have a lovely gallop at the end.

32

and come

in safely

Although I

I

had no hope

of winning the race

chose the most direct route for Berry, straight

and

across the fields

fences.

We made

our leaps

with the best of the hunters, or close behind them.

Berry loved

it.

She flung herself over

and rock and hawthorne hedge, and her

joy.

rail

could feel

I

About midway through the course

Dad was

looked around. the leaders;

Mum

was

well ahead of

me

I

with

the side but going

off to

along well. Janey had disappeared somewhere

behind me. Richard Lionheart was getting up years,

give

and she'd undoubtedly pulled him

in to

him a breather. Suddenly

I

sterbury bridge. for

in

thought of something. The MinIt

was a plank bridge, too long

Berry to leap as she had the

little

bridge in

our beech wood.

And

there

was no way around

banks on either side

fell

away

it.

Steep

to the river below.

We would have to go across. The bridge approached, gether in a tight pack.

We

the horses

came

to-

were among them.

They pressed Berry from behind,

before,

and

either side.

Onto the bridge we

33

clattered.

Berry was

borne along helplessly. Suddenly the black terror

my head.

filled

saw a jagged plank and a hole

I

opening beneath me. terror.

And

We

a

I felt

in the

tilting

ground

up, and total

death.

were across the bridge and galloping under the

into the village,

dazed from the

vision,

finish line rope. Still

drew

automatically

I

down to a jog and walked her gently up and down the street to let her muscles ease up. Berry

She was winded and dripping sweat, but

still

high-headed.

my

shook

I

head

around. Riders were

been

in the first

to

still

clear

coming.

seven or eight,

I

later

I

must have

figured,

the others were big thoroughbreds.

ing in

and looked

it

and

all

Mum was com-

now on her Anglo- Arab, and

a few minutes

Janey appeared, with a handful of young

children on small ponies.

The winner received

his silver

cup and much

Dad

grinned at his

shouting and back-thumping.

and

third-place ribbon, of her face

Mum

blew her hair out

and congratulated me, and we

started toward our leisurely ride,

and

it

own

village. It

was a

all

slow,

gave our horses time to un-

34

wind without muscle cramps. some walking

road,

We

their horses,

followed the

some

but

riding,

everyone flushed and happy.

Mum

came along beside me and

said,

"You

must have got Berry over the Minsterbury bridge.

Did she

fight

you?"

"She didn't have a chance.

We

were

sur-

rounded. She had to go over or be trampled."

"Good, then. Maybe I

home

was

silent.

I

And I was

my mind

couldn't ignore

it.

what she needed."

thankful that the road

didn't cross that bridge.

terror that filled

—time

that's

was

The unexplainable still

with me. This

Something was happen-

ing between Berry and me, something beyond

understanding, beyond

my imagination.

35

my

Dad was

so pleased with his placing in the point-

to-point,

and with the good showing Berry and

I

made, that

me

keep

times that

her.

it

was easy

to talk

him

into letting

Before her arrival Dad, or some-

Mum, had mentioned from time to time Megan should have a mount of her own,

and rd agreed. But

I

The place was always

hadn't pressed the matter. full of

care for, so the need for

horses to ride and

my own

horse hadn't

been a painful one.

But

after a

summer on Berry

I'd

have been

heartbroken to lose her. She was mine and hers,

and

Mum

I

was

and Dad were wise enough

see that.

36

to

.

As we spent more and more time together a curious

bond began

me.

was something separate from

It

although

grow between Berry and

to

affection,

loved her mightily and she was a more

I

than usually affectionate horse. This was a closeness of minds.

but

I

know how

don't

to explain

it,

existed.

it

On

school mornings Berry remained at the

low end of the back meadow, grazing with the other horses. But on Saturday and Sunday mornings,

when

fast,

she was always there by the fence, waiting

I

for our ride.

rhythm

of

came out At

first I

two days,

the back door after break-

assumed that she sensed the

five days,

two days,

five days.

But one Tuesday school was closed because of

some problem with the heating, and there was Berry, waiting for door. It

me

as I

came out the back

happened again a few weeks

later

when

a snowstorm brought another holiday. I

began

One

to

wonder.

night in

the darkness.

.

December

woke suddenly in mother's voice came sharply

My

through the wall.

.

I

got

I

up and fumbled

into

my

robe and met the two of them in the passage.

"What's the matter?" with sleep.

37

I

asked,

still

groggy

Mum

was white-faced.

"It's

Terrance. He's

dead." She, too,

was

in

pajamas and had obviously

not been out of the house.

Dad, calhng, "I just

We

I

ran after her and

"How do you know?"

know."

all

pulled on boots and wraps, and ran

out across the cobbled yard to Terrance's box.

Dad

held up the lantern;

it

sent our shadows

dancing on the stones of the stable wall.

down

Terrance was still.

A film glazed his eyes.

Mum all

He was

in the straw.

cried softly into Dad's lapels,

and we

stood about patting one another and glancing

down

at the

grand old horse. Then, gradually,

hugged and patted our way back

Mum

Dad

settled

alive

under the tea

We

at the table

we

to the kitchen.

and poked the

fire

kettle.

kept our coats and boots on

till

the

warmed up, and until we all had steaming mugs to wrap our fingers around. Mum was through sobbing by then and was down to just

kitchen

an occasional hiccup.

"Goodness knows surprise," she said.

it

shouldn't have been a

"He was

past ready to go."

38

thirty-one,

and long

"But how did you know?''

I

asked again.

She raised her head and looked back and forth from Dad to me. "I'm not sure whether I or asleep. I might have

was awake

But there was a picture

my

in

dreamed

it.

mind, clear as

could be. Terrance standing there in the sunlight, looking like he used to when he was young. He

was

staring right at

—that he was

had the—sensation me good-bye. And I woke

me, and

telling

knew he was dead." expected Dad to laugh it off, but he

up and I

I

his chair nearer the stove

I've

I

and

said, "It

scooted

happens.

known of that sort of thing to happen." "Really?"

I

gasped.

I

was thinking

of Berry

and me. nodded. "iVe noticed between horses sometimes there'll be a special bond, a special

He

closeness

mates or

stable

between two horses that are just friends. If

one

is

sick or frightened,

though the other one reacts the same way, even they may be out of sight of each other completely."

"You mean I

like

reading each other's minds?"

breathed.

"Something thing little

I talk

like

that,

I

expect.

It's I

was a

I'll

wager

about much. People'd think

crazy myself. But

it's

39

a fact, and

not a

that lots of other folks

have seen I

who work with

too."

it,

leaned closer to Dad,

noticed in

animals

my

hands. "Can

it

my

tea cooling un-

happen between a

horse and a person?"

Mum

Calmly

pened here it

"Of course

said,

tonight, or did

wasn't the

first

it

can. It hap-

you two forget? And

time."

She had our attention now.

how

"Don't you remember, Tom,

went was to

oflF

his feed

when

in labor for almost

I

Terrance

was having Megan?

I

two days," she explained

me, "and during the whole time Terrance

paced about

in his stall, sweating

and refusing

to

Old Jack Mathers was helping out then, and he was so worried, remember, Tom? Kept dosing eat.

poor Terrance with ute

Meg was

began

colic medicine.

But the min-

born, Terrance settled

down and

to eat."

We

all

looked at one another in the

silent,

dark kitchen. Finally, with

and eagerness,

an equal mixture of reluctance

I said, "I

think Berry

and

I

can do

that."

Their silence urged

me

40

on. "It

happens when

she has to go over a bridge. Not the earth bridge

out here on our road, but any wooden bridge. I get this sort of fear only it's not me that's

— —

afraid. It's as

into

my

And

summer

last

at the point-to-

she had to go over the Minsterbury got the fear, and I also got a picture. In

when

point

bridge

my

head.

though Berry's fear somehow gets

I

head.

It

was

this

round black hole and bro-

ken boards right under our feet, and I felt as there though I was tipping over backward, and ."

was death

.

.

.

They looked

at

me, not wdth the superior

skepticism I'd dreaded, but thoughtfully. Finally

Mum said, "It sounds to me as though

in Berry must have had some sort of bad scare reminds her past, and going over wooden bridges

her of

it."

"And

if

you two are on the same mental

wavelength, so to speak," casting the

memory and

radio can do

do

it,

isn't it

said, "she's

you're receiving

possible that a

broadit.

If

a

mind can

too?"

Mum it's

it,

Dad

drained her cup and stood up. "Well,

a fascinating subject, but

the night, and we've

all

41

got

it is

work

the middle of to

do in the

morning.

we

Best

some

get

home from

think you'd better stay

Megan,

sleep.

I

school tomor-

row. We're going to have to bury Terrance." "He's not going to the knacker's, then?"

I

asked.

Dad

Mum

stood close to

around her shoulder. "Would

and have a bonfire

oflF

we

let

We to

his

he'll

be

can shovel the snow

thaw the ground

expect Jack and

arm

your mum's

and glue? No,

friend go for dog food

buried in the pasture.

and put

Ed and one

can

dig. I

his

boys will give us a hand.

OflF

or

so

we

two of

to

bed now,

lot

about the

Megan."

After that night

without words.

and

thought a

two minds exchanging thoughts

of

possibility

I

I

thought about Berry and me,

loved the idea that there was a special,

I

most mystical closeness between

us.

I

al-

became

obsessed with the need to find out about her past, to find out

whether there had indeed been an

accident resembling the picture I'd seen in

head

at the I

Minsterbury bridge.

wrote a

explaining

my

who

letter to the stable at I

Harrogate,

was and asking whether Berry

had ever had an accident on a bridge during the

42

owned her. make it sound

worded the

time they

I

fully to

as

though

I

letter care-

were seeking

help with the problem of getting her to cross bridges.

seemed an endless

It

letter

came

grabbed

it

time, but eventually a

me, postmarked Harrogate.

for

and ran

to Berry's box,

where

I sat

I

on

her manger to read.

Dear Miss Dodson: I was pleased

know

that Berry

happy

is

from you, and

to hear in

her

new home.

to

We

here at Greenlanes always thought she was

such a pretty

little

and

thing,

so intelligent.

fortunately, the intelligent horses often

Un-

make

poor school horses, since they do tend to over-

power the beginning students a bit. To the best of my knowledge she had no here involving bridges, simply be-

accidents

cause none of us was ever able to get her across a bridge.

It's

possible

that something might

have happened with one of the students that we don't

know

about, but

it's

not

likely.

Berry

wasn't used in the trekking string. She was too

undependable. So

I

don't believe that any of

our students ever rode her out away from the stable, unattended. I've

However,

checked back

in

43

it is

a possibility.

our records and found

the

name

of the dealer

who

sold Berry to us, in

case you'd like to contact him.

Number Two, Peach Lane, Good luck and best wishes,

Sloane,

It

was

J.R.

York.

Marion Stout Greenlanes Stables, Harrogate

sighed and stared at Berry's face, close

I

beside

How

my leg

was

I

as she

munched her

afternoon hay.

ever going to find out what secrets

were locked inside that russet head?

"By writing another

"And waiting I

letter,"

I

muttered.

again."

wrote to

J.R.

Sloane at York, describing

Berry and asking for the

name

whom he had bought her. There was no answer.

44

of the person from

It

Saturday in was a warm, wet, turning-green I had Mr. Fergus arrived. Berry and

March when been for a romp road

when

I

in the sheep

meadow

near the

looked up and noticed a Uttle

man

of the road.

pony trap, stopped at the edge to ask He seemed to be waiting for a chance Berry and I were both directions, so I rode over.

in a

You can t go

breathless. a bit mud-splashed and in galloping across a sheep run tidy. I

my

knocked the worst

sleeve

and

said,

Only then did

was looking

I

of

it

"Have you notice

how

March and off

lost

face with

your way?"

intently the

at Berry. His clothes

45

my

stay

man

and the whole

"

look of the

him

man and

pony trap proclaimed

the

a farmer, probably quite poor but as clean

as his profession allowed.

He didn't answer me, lines

about the whip holder and stepped down.

"Hello, there,

little

dearie,"

was Berry he spoke face,

but wrapped his pony's

and

around

I

to,

thought

I

he said

softly.

He

not me.

But

it

stroked her

saw a glimmer

of

wet

his eyes.

Finally he looked

up

at

me and

said,

"Would

you be a Miss Megan Dodson, by any chance?" "Yes.

He

How did you—

pulled from his pocket a

could see that

it

was the one

I

letter,

and

had written

I

to

Mr. Sloane, in York. Then he touched his hat in a gesture of respect that was especially sweet considering that urchin,

all

I

must have looked

like a street

mud-splashed and straggle-haired.

"I'm James Fergus, from over by Haxby. This

used

to

his stiff

be

my pony." He patted

brown

fingers. "I didn't

her back," he went on quickly.

I

Berry's face with

come

to try to get

must have looked

concerned. "I only wanted to see that she was in a good spot.

Not being abused, don't you know."

Here was the answer,

46

I

sang

silently.

"Come

along home, then," drive. We'll

I

"You Ve had a long

said.

put your pony up and

talk."

Twenty minutes later Mr. was unhitched and comfortable

Fergus's

next to Berry, and Mr. Fergus and

our stable

in I

were seated

in the kitchen, in the comfortable chairs

side of the

fire.

stable I let her

When Mum

ing

me

so she contented

fresh tin of biscuits. I

was a

the biscuits, and then

did you happen to asked. It

I

my

welcoming Mr. Fergus and remind-

made the tea and fetched we settled in to talk. Berry?"

appeared from the

my company,

that there

"How

on either

know, with wordless moves of

head, that this was herself with

pony

was

all

come looking

for

the priming Mr. Fer-

gus needed. "I'd

been

in to the city, to York,

farm business, you

around

at Sloane's to ask

had been

after

her. Sloane to

me

and

see,

I

thought

about Berry.

to find out

on a

bit of

I'd stop

My children

what happened

to

had had your letter, and he passed it on

me. Said when he'd

first

got the letter he

remember the litde mare, and he just set ask after her, the letter aside. Then me coming to espeon top of your letter, it set him to thinking,

couldn't

47

when

daily the

was

pony

my

dead of

in the

you

stolen,

him

I told

boy had brought him

night.

He'd reckoned she

expect that was

see. I

when you

conveniently forgot about her,

But when

him the whole

told

I

why he

so

wrote.

then he

story,

knew

she hadn't been stolen, and he opened up

a

Gave me your

bit.

look you up.

been

me

after

good home. tle

And

as I say,

come

to

We

letter, in

was

I

wanted

youngsters have if

Berry had a

right attached to the

all

to

lit-

creature, miss."

middle of the night, "Well, miss,

lowed

it

happened

to carry as

would

do

light

many

fit

And why

in the

He

swal-

a

little

was

it

like this."

and commenced

dam had been

trap, to

her?

to a dealer?"

mare whose work

pony

sell

his bite of biscuit

Berry's

as

my

find out

"Then why did you

est

case

gray

to talk.

New

For-

to pull the family's

work around the farm, and

of the Fergus children to school

on her back. All of the family had a

fondness for their animals. The sheep as well as the cows alities,

all

had

as did the

their

names and

bam

cats

farm.

48

who

their person-

patrolled the

The pony, Crumpet, was

too old for having

but the Fergus fences weren't what they

colts,

might have been, and a neighbor kept a thoroughbred

stallion,

and

in

due course the inevitable

happened. Crumpet died giving strawberry roan

little

feeding,

and

in a

filly

birth,

but the

thrived on her bottle

few years she had taken over

her mother's duties with school children and trap.

Berry was raised as a puppy might have been, constantly handled and petted, and more

than a bit spoiled. Her sitivity,

thoroughbred sen-

sire's

her dam's solid good sense, and her con-

tinual contact with the family all create,

in Berry,

combined

to

an unusually quick and per-

ceptive mind.

One day when Berry was

a three year old, a

group of young children, Ferguses and neighbors,

went up onto the moors

to play and, as they

usually did, they took Berry along.

been forbidden

to

They had

all

go beyond the edge of the

was dangerous.

moor

at that place,

Many

years before, after the closing of the Corn-

ish lead mines, a

because

it

group of mining engineers had

discovered a small deposit of lead in that area.

They had sunk

several exploratory shafts, then

49

decided there was not enough lead to make mining worthwhile in that spot.

They covered

wooden them that

the shafts with sturdy

covers about six feet square, and left

way. At the time they seemed safe enough, but

wood began to and children were warned away from the area

with the passing of the years the rot,

as a precaution.

But Bobby Fergus took the warning challenge.

as a

He led the group up onto the moors and

scattered the children to search for a

mine

shaft.

In short order one was found, a square of silvered

wood

planks half hidden

"I

by gorse and

dare you to run across

it,"

heather.

he shouted.

No

one took him up on the challenge.

"You do

it,"

Bobby ran afraid of

it."

one of the others

said.

across the planks. "See?

Tm

not

He ran back across.

Berry lowered her head to nibble at the grass.

On her back were

in the group, Ian

who was

the two smallest children

Fergus and

little

Jamie Gilroy,

barely three.

"Do it again, slower urged. "Walk across." "I will

if

you

this time,"

will."

50

Janet Fergus

"You do

it first/'

"All right, then." for luck,

and started

Bobby patted

Berry's neck

Berry followed.

across.

The rotting boards gave way. Bobby leaped to safety. The pony leaped, kicked, scrambled. Ian clutched her mane and screeched, but Jamie toppled over backward and

disappeared into the mine

The

terrified

shaft.

children

ran for help,

and

came with ropes and prayers, but there was no help for it. Jamie was dead. After the first grief came the hard, angry

families

questions. there,

What were you

where you oughtn't

to

be?

when

playing on the mine shaft it

children

doing up

Why

were you

you'd been told

was dangerous? But the children had

their story ready. Berry

had bolted and run away, with Ian and Jamie on her back, and they had merely followed, trying to stop her. It wasn't that they wanted Berry be blamed, but the death of a child was too much for Bobby, for any of them, to take respon-

to

sibility for.

They were

ents, of the police

all

terrified—of their par-

who might come and

Of God even. 51

get them.

In his

father swore that the

grief, Jamie's

pony must be

and

Fergus wouldn't do

it,

he would come over himself and put the gun

to

shot,

if

Berry's head. Fergus stalled Mr. Gilroy with a

promise of action the next day.

But that

was

night, after the rest of the family

asleep, Fergus took

Bobby

where Berry was

stable,

to the

darkened

Bobby was

tied.

the

only Fergus old enough to be trusted with the job, yet small

the

boy

enough

to ride Berry.

Fergus gave

careful directions to the horse dealer

Peach Lane

When

on

in York.

Gilroy

came the next

him the pony had run away believed him, but

it

day, Fergus told

in the night.

didn't matter.

No one

Berry was

safely away.

After

some months Bobby's conscience got

the better of him, really

told his

dad what had

happened. Fergus whipped

lying, as

them

and he

he

felt

his

son for

he must do, but then the two of

cried together

and decided

that, later on,

when the Gilroys' grief had abated somewhat, Bobby must tell them the truth and ask to be forgiven.

After that was accomplished, Fergus

promised

his son, they

would

52

set

about finding

Berry,

and

if

she was being

ill

used they would

try to get her back.

But meantime a new pony was needed, and

was bought, and by now he was spoiled as Berry

"Aye.

was

And

and

had been.

"And you made see that Berry

as loved

this

in a

long

trip," I said, "just to

good home?"

I'm convinced that she couldn't

have a better one." Fergus

set aside his long-

mug and struggled up out of the soft, low chair. "And now I expect Dapples and I had better be on oiu: way, or we won't be home by empty

tea

milking time."

53

I

went on riding Berry long

tall to

as I

grown too

look right on her. There were other horses

who demanded my them

after I'd

as

time, too,

more and more

of

Dad's training business expanded and

grew into a full partnership with him. But none of the

others,

owned, was ever mine was.

We

even those that

in the

way

I

that Berry

spent hours together in her box or on

the roads, or on summer-scented paths through

the beech wood.

We

grew

so attuned to one

another that our very moods were shared.

was

feeling overfed

and

content to dawdle along. depressed, as

I

often

lazy, If

I

I

she

found myself

was grouchy or

was during

54

If

my

teen years.

Berry seemed to put herself out to cheer me. She

would her,

lip at

my

made me

she

until

my

face, or at

toes

was riding

if I

and then we

laugh,

settled in to enjoy our ride.

One day

I

was

paying a

sitting in school,

reasonable amount of attention to the lesson,

when suddenly

and a great uneasiness. a tree, the off

same

I

I

my

into

head,

saw Berry standing by

tree she

had

tried to

Her head was twisted

against.

angle,

came

a picture

me

knock

at

an odd

and she was

in distress.

jumped up,

yelled something to the teacher

about trouble at home, and ran.

When

I

reached the

tree, there

was Berry

standing just as I'd seen her. She had apparently

been rubbing her head against the an

and her halter had got caught over a

itch,

of tough creeper vine that trunk.

tree to scratch

I

released her,

grew around the

and

felt

her

relief

bit

tree

and

gratitude flooding through me.

rU before. raise a

a

little

confess something iVe never told anyone

Dad had wanted to breed Berry and colt from her. He wanted to breed her to thoroughbred he knew, and

good polo pony prospect. I

was

afraid that I

I

wouldn't

would share

55

try for let

a

him.

Berry's pain

at foaling time. I believe that I bit afraid that she

dam had

might die

done, and that

if

was even a

little

in foahng, as

her

she did, something

dreadful would happen to me, too.

Of course she did die sleep as Terrance

helped I

eventually,

in her

had done, but not before she'd

me raise my own three boys.

wonder

on the other

if

side,

Berry will be there to greet

when I die?

56

me

Lynn Hall and her Paso Fino horse, Tazo

LYNN HALL

lives in the

scenic

country near Elkader, Iowa,

in

hill

a stone

cottage she built herself. She enjoys long rides with her horse Tazo,

teaches 4-H dog training classes, and breeds and shows champion English Cockers. \

She

is

the author of The Leaving, The

Horse Trader, Danza!, Half the and Tin Can Tucker

Jacket

illustration

Battle,

by Ruth Sanderson

Published by

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS New York

I

Also by Lynn Hall

The Leaving Best Books for Young Adults, ALA Winner of the 1981 Boston Globe/Horn Book Award

The Horse Trader Harley Williams had promised to find Karen a mare when she reached fifteen, and now here she was— Lady Bay— horse of her very own at last. "Karen's tangle of emotions for Harley is sensitively depicted, and the final outcome which sees Karen dismissing Harley after a long absence is an emotionally powerful denouement."—iAL^A Booklist

Danza! The

story of a sensitive Puerto Rican boy, Paulo,

prized horse Danza.

"...

and the

powerful and deeply affecting." —starred review, ALA Booklist

Half the Battle "A horseback journey tests the individual strength and relationship of two brothers, one blind and the other determined to become independent of his brother's shadow Convincing and ultimately positive."— >A/_/A Booklist

Tin

Can Tucker

"The rodeo beckons and orphaned Ann Tucker goes, finding friends, a family, and a factory-bound horse she rescues and turns into a champion barrel racer an entertaining, upbeat winner."— >ALyA Booklist

ISBN: 0-684-17874-5