Up to the crest of the ridge, Lisa kept Prancer to a controlled trot. She made herself hold the mare to a walk down the last steep section, even though she was dying to have Prancer gallop. No matter what, she couldn’t afford to have an accident herself. Max was depending on her and Prancer.
Prancer. Lisa looked down at the gallant mare she loved so much. The horse had already traveled forty-five miles that day. Was it really fair to ask her to gallop the last five? It might be too much; it might hurt her. But Lisa knew she had no choice. Max could be dying.
Lisa urged Prancer into as fast a trot as she could. As soon as the trail flattened and she could see the woods ahead of her, she asked Prancer to run. The mare seemed to sense Lisa’s urgency. She tossed her head, kicked her heels up once, and flew like the wind, doing what she’d been born and bred to do.
“HE’S BLEEDING A LOT,” Stevie said, pointing to the puddle of blood forming under Max’s outstretched arm. Lisa had just left, and Stevie and Carole were still bending over Max. “Really a lot,” she added. “He ripped his arm on a stick. It’s scary.”
Carole looked and shuddered. “I didn’t realize his cut was that bad,” she said. “I think we need to stop it pretty quickly.” Stevie pulled a wad of tissues out of her fanny pack, and in seconds they were soaked through. “Hold them there anyway,” Carole instructed. “Press on the cut, but remember—”
“—don’t move him,” Stevie recited. “What can we use for a bandage?”
Carole looked around. “I wish our windbreakers weren’t made of nylon.”
“Belle’s polo wraps!” Stevie said. She shouted up the slope. “Chloe! Take off one of Belle’s polo wraps and toss it down here!”
Chloe already had her horse tied to a tree. She was holding Belle and Starlight, but it wasn’t difficult for her to reach down and unwrap one of the long fleecy bandages that were protecting Belle’s legs. She wadded the bandage into a ball and tossed it to Stevie.
Carole carefully wrapped the bandage around Max’s arm. Blood soaked through the first layer, and the second, but soon the flow was at least slowed.
“I’ve totally wrecked one of your new wraps,” Carole told Stevie.
“As if I care,” Stevie shot back.
“It’s bad, Stevie,” Carole said in a shaky voice. “He really lost a lot of blood in a hurry.”
“He’ll be okay,” Stevie said. “He has to be. Anyway, he’s not bleeding now, right?”
“I don’t think so,” Carole said. Her hands were smeared red. “Stevie … maybe you should look at Barq? He—He’s bleeding, too.” They looked downhill at the patient gelding. “I’ll stay here with Max. One of us has to, in case he wakes up.”
Stevie didn’t want to go, but she knew she should. Barq needed them, too, and she didn’t think they could do anything else for Max now. “I’ll help Chloe tie our horses up, and then I’ll get her to help me see what we can do about Barq. Yell if you need us. Yell if anything changes.”
“I will,” Carole promised.
Up on the trail, Chloe was fussing with the straps on Starlight’s bridle. “I’m not used to tack like this anymore,” she told Stevie. “I want to tie them up, but not with the bit in their mouth. My bit snaps out.”
Stevie looked at Whitey. She could see what Chloe meant. It was dangerous to tie a horse up in a regular bridle—if the horse tried to pull away, the metal bit would injure its mouth. Whitey’s bridle could be converted to a halter instantly. “I’m sure we can figure out something,” she said, taking Belle from Chloe. “Undo the side buckles to get rid of the bit, and make sure the nosebands are tight.”
“Here!” Chloe said. “That works, and we can fasten the reins to the noseband and tie them up like that.”
“Good!” Both girls worked quickly. Once the horses were secure, they removed their saddles and laid them on the ground out of harm’s way. Then they looked down the hill. Carole was sitting patiently with Max. Barq looked a long way away.
“Did the polo wrap help Max?” Chloe asked.
Stevie nodded. “His arm is cut, and it was really bleeding.”
“Let’s take the other three down to Barq, then. Looks like he’s bleeding, too.”
They skittered slowly down the slope to Barq’s side. He was standing on the only flat piece of ground on the entire hillside, and, fortunately, there was room for Stevie and Chloe to stand next to him. Stevie braced herself for the worst, but luckily Barq didn’t seem too bad. He nosed Stevie gently.
“He’s putting his weight on all four feet,” Chloe said, inspecting him carefully. “He’s got a lot of bumps and bruises, but he hasn’t broken a leg or torn a tendon or anything like that.”
“This cut is pretty bad,” Stevie said, peering at the gash on his shoulder. It wasn’t bleeding as heavily as Max’s cut, but it was a lot longer.
“Let me see.” Chloe used water from her backpack to flush some of the dirt out of the cut. It immediately started to bleed faster.
Stevie wound the polo wrap around Barq’s neck and across his shoulder. It seemed to help. She added the second and third wraps down the side of his shoulder. “The rest of his cuts aren’t so bad,” she said. “He’s lost a lot of hair, but mostly he just scraped himself. I think he’s going to be okay. Look at his saddle, though.” She pointed. Barq’s saddle was twisted unnaturally. One stirrup had come off and the leather was ripped open in several places.
“It’s history,” Chloe declared. “The insides must be ruined.”
“Lucky Max didn’t use his good saddle. He would have hated to lose that one. And his reins snapped at the buckle. The rest of his bridle looks okay.” Instead of forming a loop around Barq’s shoulders, his broken reins trailed in the dirt. Stevie bit her lip and looked anxiously across the hill. Carole hadn’t moved. Neither had Max.
“Okay,” Chloe said, patting Barq’s neck gently. “What we need to do is get this guy up with his friends. Any idea how?”
Stevie thought. “The slope is awfully steep. I know he can climb it, but he’ll probably sort of lunge. I don’t think it would be safe for one of us to lead him. He could knock us over without trying to.”
“We’ve had enough of that already,” Chloe said. “I agree. If we just try to chase him uphill, do you think he’ll go?”
“I doubt it. How about we both lead him, one on each side, but far away? If we both hold on to a rein, we might be able to get him to climb up the hill in between us.”
“That’s a good idea!”
They tried, but the reins weren’t long enough. When the girls held them, they couldn’t get more than a few feet away from Barq—not far enough for safety.
“We need longer reins,” Stevie said. “What we really need is the longe line I have for Belle at home. But maybe if we unbuckle Belle’s and Starlight’s reins, and only tie them with one each—”
Chloe caught on quickly. “I’ve got a lead rope on my saddle, too. I can tie Whitey with that, and we can use both of his reins.” They gave Barq another pat for reassurance, waved to Carole, then climbed back up the slope. In a minute they were sliding down again. They tied all the reins together to make two long makeshift leads.
Now they had enough line that they could stay well away from Barq, yet still guide him. Stevie gently moved the horse so that he was facing uphill. Then they started climbing the hill, one on each side of him. When their lines went taut, they pulled gently on Barq’s head, called to him, and encouraged him. Barq had always been well-mannered. He took a step forward, then another. As the slope steepened, he had to use his head for balance, and he plunged forward in halting, leaping steps. Sweat broke out across his shoulders, and he paused before each plunge as though in pain. Stevie and Chloe scrambled to climb quickly so that they could keep their reins taut and keep Barq moving.
Finally they reached the lip of the trail. Chloe sat down, gasping for breath, but Stevie stood and pulled steadily on her end of the line. “Come on, Barq, you can do it!” she said. Barq made
one last leap and came up beside her. He was trembling from the effort. Stevie quickly led him away from the edge.
“Wow,” Chloe said, standing up again. “We did it.” They patted and praised Barq for his effort, then removed his tack as they had for the other horses. Chloe encouraged him to drink from her backpack. Barq licked the tube with seeming gratitude.
“Once he’s done with that, I’d like a drink,” Stevie said. “I’m—oh no! Carole wants us! There must be something wrong!” Carole was waving frantically. Without another word, Chloe and Stevie started back down the hill.
ONCE CAROLE SAW that they were coming, she went back to watching Max breathe. His chest moved in and out regularly, but that was the only reassuring thing about the way he looked.
“He looks awful,” was the first thing Stevie said. “He looks worse. His skin’s turning blue gray.”
“I know,” Carole said. “Why do you think I wanted you? I can’t stand this, Stevie. I don’t know what to do.” She slid the few feet to Max’s side and gently felt for his pulse again. Max was more to Carole than just the best instructor she’d ever had. He was more of a friend, or a favorite uncle.
This time Carole had more trouble finding his pulse. “There’s something wrong,” she said, a hint of despair in her voice. “His heartbeat’s faster, but it’s not as strong. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what to do.”
Stevie moved to Carole’s side. “Don’t panic. I know it’s a shock to have Max hurt, but we’ll get help. Now—”
“Oh,” Carole said. “Oh, of course, that’s it.”
“What’s it?”
“He’s going into shock. They told us about it in first aid. We’ve got to put his feet higher than his head, stop any bleeding, and keep him warm.”
“It’s a good thing he landed with his feet higher than his head,” Stevie said, “because you said we couldn’t move him.” She untied her jacket from her waist and put it over Max.
“Oh, good thinking!” Carole said. She did the same.
“Is he still bleeding?” Chloe asked.
“No … well, the cut’s oozing a little, but nothing like it was.” Carole looked distracted. “I don’t remember what else they told us about shock. Get medical help, but we’re doing that.”
“Press down on his wound to make sure he’s not bleeding,” Chloe said. “I’ll go get my jacket for him, and I’ll see what else I can find.”
Carole covered the bloody polo wrap with one hand. Stevie squeezed her other hand. “It’ll be okay,” Stevie said. “Lisa will get help soon.”
“I hope so,” Carole said.
“She’ll do great,” Stevie said. “We’re doing the best we can. Max will be fine—he won’t let us down. He never has.”
Carole looked at Max’s still form. “I don’t think he has much say in it this time.”
Chloe returned with her tunic, the sponge from her saddle, and all four of the horses’ saddle pads. They covered Max from head to toe, and Carole fastened the sponge over Max’s cut with the end of the polo wrap and continued to press down on it. Suddenly they heard Starlight whinny. On the trail above, another rider came into view—but from the wrong direction. He was a competitor, not a rescuer. As soon as he saw the horses tied on the trail, he stopped. In a moment the man had tethered his horse and was making his way cautiously to the girls’ side.
“What happened?” he asked as soon as he reached them. They briefly explained. He looked very concerned. “Gosh,” he said, “I don’t know what else to do, either. You’ve already done all I can think of. Here, take my jacket. I think I’m the last rider on the trail—the friends I was riding with quit at the last check. You’ve already sent someone for help?”
Chloe checked her watch. “About a half hour ago.”
“Maybe you could go, too?” Carole suggested. “Just in case—”
“Of course.” The man slid his backpack to the ground. “Help yourselves to anything in there. There’s a bandanna you could use for a bandage, and I’ve got some candy bars left. Sit tight. I’ll be back soon.” He went back to his horse and rode away.
The girls tried to find comfortable places to sit on the slope around Max. His pulse hadn’t gotten any fainter. Fresh blood no longer seeped through Stevie’s polo-wrap bandage. Max seemed, for now, to be holding on, but his skin was still pale and clammy, and he hadn’t moved. Carole couldn’t fight the uneasiness that clutched her heart. What would she do without Max?
Stevie looked inside the man’s backpack. She used the bandanna to add another layer to Max’s bandage. “Anybody want a candy bar?” she asked. Chloe shook her head.
“I couldn’t eat,” Carole said.
Stevie put the candy bars back. “Me either. It was nice of that guy to leave them for us, though. I hope he comes back soon.”
“Lisa will be back long before he will,” Carole said sharply.
“I know. I just meant, I hope someone comes soon.” Stevie put her head in her hands. “It’s been a long time since Lisa left.”
Chloe checked her watch again. “Not even forty minutes,” she said. “I bet it’ll take her nearly an hour to finish the ride—and then it’ll be an hour before anyone can make it back here. Maybe longer. I don’t know if they’ll be able to use horses. They might have to come in on foot.”
Stevie looked at the sky. “Maybe they’ll send a helicopter.”
“Maybe,” Chloe said.
“I got lost on the trail,” Stevie said.
“Lisa won’t,” Chloe said firmly.
“I know,” Stevie said. “Of all of us, she pays the closest attention to things. She’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” Carole said. She reached for Max’s pulse again and shook her head. “He’s getting weaker, not stronger. I hope some help gets here soon.”
LISA THOUGHT THE trail would never end. Her leg muscles strained to hold her out of the saddle so that Prancer could gallop freely. She gasped for air against the wind. White flecks of sweaty foam streaked Prancer’s neck and shoulders. Surely they’d galloped a thousand miles by now. She knotted one hand in Prancer’s mane for balance.
“Good girl, Prancer, keep on,” she murmured. She could feel the mare tiring, but even now, as she pressed her heels against Prancer’s sides, Prancer responded with another surge of speed. Lisa steadied her around a corner, then burst into tears of relief. Far ahead, red plastic flags marked the finish line. People were waiting there, Mrs. Reg and Deborah and a rescue squad. “Go!” she said to Prancer. Prancer plowed forward doggedly.
“Heads up!” Lisa shouted through her tears as they galloped into the clearing and across the finish line. Dismounted riders scattered; everyone looked up in surprise. Not many riders ended a fifty-mile race going as fast as their horses could run.
Lisa saw Mrs. Reg in the crowd and rode straight for her. When she pulled on the reins, Prancer stopped without argument, and Lisa tumbled out of the saddle into Mrs. Reg’s arms. “Max!” she gasped. She saw Deborah, holding Maxine, standing beside Mrs. Reg, and she took a deep breath and made herself speak clearly. “Max had an accident. He’s hurt badly. We need an ambulance to go get him.”
Deborah’s face went white. She handed Maxine to Mrs. Reg and grabbed Lisa’s arm. Some of the ride officials had heard Lisa and were already alerting the waiting rescue team. Paramedics jumped out of an ambulance parked on the side of the field.
“Come on, Lisa,” Deborah urged, pulling her toward them. “You’ll have to tell them what happened. And you’ll have to show us where he is.”
Lisa nodded. “Carole and Stevie stayed with him.” As Deborah led her away, Lisa looked back over her shoulder. “Prancer …”
The three Pony Tails had surrounded the mare, and Lisa saw Mr. Baker and Phil coming forward as well. “We’ll take care of her, Lisa,” May shouted. Lisa knew they would.
She turned back toward Deborah and ran a few steps to keep up with her. “We came as fast as we could,” she said. “Prancer and I.”
Deborah reached back and put her arm around Lisa’s shoulder. “I know you did,” she said.
Two paramedics were pulling equipment out of the back of the ambulance. “Tell us what happened,” one of them, a young woman with dark hair, said gently. Lisa described the accident as best she could. The woman nodded encouragingly.
“Lisa and I will go back with you,” Deborah said firmly. “I’m his wife, Deborah.”
The paramedics looked at one another. “Of course,” the woman said. “I’m Susan and this is Daniel. We’ll all go together.”
The ride organizers produced a pair of four-wheel-drive vehicles. A ride steward offered to drive one for Deborah and Lisa, but Deborah assured the man that she knew how to drive it. Susan and Daniel loaded the backs of the vehicles with a stretcher and some boxes of supplies. Lisa climbed in behind Deborah, and, as Deborah gunned the engine, Lisa stood on the narrow seat so that she could get a glimpse of Prancer. The mare was wearing a mesh cooler. Mrs. Reg cradled Maxine with one arm while she held Prancer’s lead rope with the other hand. May was drying Prancer’s neck with a towel, Phil was sponging her hindquarters, Corey was offering her sips of water, and Jasmine was rubbing down her legs. Mr. Baker was bending over a bucket of something. Lisa sighed in relief. Surely if the mare had been in distress, the ride vets would have been crowding around her, too. Maybe the gallop hadn’t hurt Prancer after all.
Deborah hit the accelerator and the vehicle shot forward. Lisa grabbed the side of her seat. “Hang on!” Deborah shouted. “The trail looks a little bumpy!” The first jolt nearly rocketed Lisa out of her seat, but she was thrilled to be going so fast. Every bump meant they were getting closer to Max.
ON THE RIDGE, the shadows were lengthening in the late-afternoon sun. The three girls kept their vigil. Max still hadn’t moved. He still breathed.
“I’ll go check on the horses,” Chloe offered. She slipped away.
“I just wish something would happen,” Carole burst out. Her arm was starting to cramp from holding on to Max’s wound, but she didn’t want to let go. “Waiting like this is driving me crazy.” She dug a hole in the dirt with her heel.
Endurance Ride Page 7