Finally Lisa gave up and brought Chocolate back in. “I guess she’s just not cut out to be a jumper,” she said, dismounting.
“That’s okay,” Kate said, giving the mare a pat on the rump. “She has other skills. Anyway, who would expect a Western horse to do Eastern horse tricks?”
“Why don’t you and Spot give it a try, Kate?” Carole suggested. “You’re such an experienced rider that you should be able to make it through the course on a Western horse if anybody can.”
Kate and Spot did better than Lisa and Chocolate had, but not by much. Before every obstacle Spot started shaking his head anxiously and trying to change course. Kate’s firm hand and expert riding eventually got the horse over all the jumps, but he didn’t look happy about it.
“I guess Spot has that Western horse mentality,” Kate commented when she rejoined the others. “It’s not that he can’t jump those obstacles. He just doesn’t see the point.”
“And by his age I bet he’s pretty stuck in his ways,” Lisa said with a nod.
“He probably is, even though he’s not really that old,” Kate said. “I mean, he’s a year or two younger than Stewball, for instance.”
Stevie couldn’t understand why her friends were being so downbeat about this whole demonstration. It wasn’t like them. “Lighten up, you guys, this is just for fun,” she told them. “Anyway, I’ll bet Stewball can do it. He’ll show these other horses how it’s done.”
Carole shrugged. “Well, if you want to give it a try …”
“Come on, boy, let’s go,” Stevie said to Stewball as she mounted. She signaled him to trot and aimed him at the first jump. His ears flicked forward, and as he approached the obstacle, he hesitated for just a moment. But at Stevie’s urging he picked up his pace again and took the jump perfectly. After that he seemed to understand what was going on. He cleared the course easily.
When they had finished, Stevie slowed Stewball to a walk and leaned forward in the saddle to give him a big hug. “You were terrific, Stewball!” she exclaimed. Any doubts she had had about teaching Stewball English riding skills had vanished. She had been right in the first place. He was the smartest horse in the world, and he could learn anything.
SOON IT BEGAN to grow dark. The girls unsaddled and groomed the horses, then set them loose again in the makeshift corral. Together The Saddle Club began gathering dry sticks and twigs from the area around the campsite. It didn’t take them long to find enough, even with Dude running around and getting in their way.
“I guess that’s one advantage of this dry climate,” Lisa commented. “Back home in Virginia it’s usually a lot damper, so a lot of the wood you find is too damp to use.”
Christine wasn’t listening. “Look at that,” she said.
The others turned and saw what she was looking at. The sun was setting, throwing off streaks of deep red, orange, and violet. Carole, for one, was sure she had never seen such a beautiful sunset. “This place is different from home in a lot of ways,” she commented quietly.
The girls watched the sunset until it began to fade, then finished their task. Before long a campfire was crackling merrily in the fire pit. The girls settled down to roast their hot dogs (they had finally decided against bringing hamburgers, too) and to talk.
“This is so much fun,” Lisa said. “I’m glad you suggested it, Christine.”
Christine leaned back against a boulder and gazed up at the sky, where the stars were growing brighter as the last bits of daylight faded. “I love it out here,” she said. “It’s so peaceful and free. Just us and nature.” She took a hot dog out of the package and tossed it to Dude, who gulped it down and wagged his tail gratefully.
“It’s like we’re a million miles away from everything,” Carole agreed.
“Yup,” Kate said. “Just us and our horses.”
“Speaking of horses,” Stevie began. Carole noticed that Stevie seemed to be the only one not affected by the quiet, reflective mood. “Can you believe Stewball? I mean, I have to admit I was a little worried about how he’d take to English riding, but now I can see there’ll be no problem. He’s just brilliant, isn’t he?”
“Brilliant,” Kate replied. Carole was pretty sure Stevie didn’t notice the sarcasm in Kate’s voice.
“I know,” Stevie said dreamily. “He really can do anything. He’s the perfect horse.”
The others exchanged glances. Carole was pretty sure she could see her own thoughts reflected on her friends’ faces. Maybe they had been wrong about Stewball. He really had performed very well in the English riding demonstration despite his complete lack of training. If he learned that fast, who could say that he wouldn’t make a fine show horse someday, especially with such a devoted and loving owner? And more important, who could say he wouldn’t be happy doing it?
Carole sighed and finished the last bite of her hot dog. “I’m beat,” she said. “Let’s hit the sack.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Kate, stifling a yawn. “It’s been a long and interesting day.”
Carole had a feeling Kate wasn’t talking about just the ride.
WHEN STEVIE AWOKE, it took her a moment to remember where she was. It was pitch-black. The sound of light snoring came from nearby.
Then she remembered. She was in a tent in a Western arroyo. The snoring was coming from Carole. Stevie yawned, wondering what had awakened her. Carefully, so as not to disturb her friend, she pulled Carole’s arm out of her sleeping bag and pressed the button on her light-up digital watch. It was well past midnight.
Stevie let Carole’s arm drop and sat up. Carole moaned and rolled over but didn’t awaken. Then Stevie heard noises outside coming from the direction of the corral. Her heart began to pound. What if some kind of predator was threatening the horses? She crawled to the entrance of the tent and peeked out. The entire area was bathed in moonlight, giving the landscape a luminous white glow as if it were covered by a thin layer of snow. It was beautiful, but eerie at the same time.
Then Stevie saw Dude dozing by the remains of the campfire, and she relaxed. If there were any dangerous animals around, she was sure the dog would have scented them and sounded the alarm. But, then, what were the horses doing? Judging by the noise they were making, they were restless, but Stevie couldn’t see them from the tent.
Just then a whinny came from the corral. “Stewball,” Stevie whispered. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she crawled back into the tent and felt around in the dark until she found her boots. She pulled them on and slipped out of the tent.
Outside, she stood up and looked around, marveling at how different everything looked in the moonlight. Dude had awakened as soon as she came out. He looked up at her and seemed to grin, his tail thumping on the ground. When Stevie headed toward the corral, the dog jumped to his feet and followed.
“Let’s just see what that crazy Stewball is doing now, huh, boy?” Stevie whispered, bending down to scratch behind Dude’s ears. As they walked past Christine’s tent and then the one Lisa and Kate were sharing, Stevie could see that the horses were milling around in the corral.
When she got closer, Stevie realized they were playing. She sat down on a boulder near the fence to watch, hoping they wouldn’t notice her presence. She held Dude beside her, and the dog sank to his haunches, seeming to understand the need for quiet.
Stevie could tell right away that Stewball was leading the game. The silvery moonlight made the white patches on his coat glow brightly as he raced around, dodging in and out among the other horses. Stevie couldn’t tell what he was doing, but he seemed to be having fun. After watching a little longer she decided that the horses were playing some version of tag, though she couldn’t begin to figure out the rules.
Berry let out a nicker and chased after Stewball. But Stewball was too fast for him—he darted from side to side, changing directions so quickly Stevie could hardly believe it. Then he doubled back and dodged behind Spot, who was watching the action with his head held high. Spot tossed his head, snort
ed, and set out after Berry, who whirled and raced away. Chocolate joined in too, and soon all five horses were involved in the game. Stevie watched breathlessly, feeling she was witnessing something few people ever got the chance to see.
Finally it all seemed to be over. Stewball raised his head and neighed, stomping his feet as if in triumph. Stevie grinned proudly. She wasn’t positive, but she had a hunch that whatever the game had been, Stewball had won. He led the other horses on a slow lope around the field, stopping at the far end, where he paused on a small hillock to shake his head and neigh again. The sound drifted back to Stevie through the still night air, and she shivered. For a second the horse poised there, framed against the dark, wild backdrop of the mountains, seemed alien from the Stewball she knew. At that moment he seemed only one small step removed from the wild herds she had seen out here—the bands of horses that roamed the rugged Western land, never knowing the feel of a saddle on their backs or the touch of a human hand. She shivered again and blinked, and then he was just Stewball again as he lowered his head and ambled off in search of a tasty patch of grass.
As the horses settled down, Stevie got up and headed back to her tent. She wrapped her arms around herself, realizing for the first time how chilly it was. After patting Dude good night she crawled inside. Carole hadn’t moved, although Stevie was happy to notice that she had stopped snoring.
Snuggled back inside her warm sleeping bag, Stevie closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come. But her mind was still wide awake, filled with images of the beautiful scene she had just witnessed. As if she were still there, she saw the horses frolicking in the moonlight, absorbed in a game only they could understand. They had looked so free and happy under the huge canopy of stars. And Stewball had seemed the happiest of them all as he led them in the game, obviously in his element and having the time of his life.
It took Stevie a long time to fall back to sleep.
* * *
“COME ON, YOU lazy dudes! Rise and shine!”
Carole opened one eye and groaned. “Is it morning already?” she muttered sleepily.
“I guess so,” Stevie said with a yawn. She sat up and stretched, then flopped back down again. “I say we go on strike.”
Christine’s head poked through the tent flap. “Come on, you two, up and at ’em,” she said cheerfully. “I’ve been up for hours already—the day’s half-wasted!”
Carole glanced at her watch. “Only you would say that at six in the morning,” she commented. It was true. Christine was known for her predawn rides through the desert.
“Up, up, up,” Christine replied with a grin. “I already took care of the horses, and our breakfast is almost ready.”
Reluctantly Carole and Stevie left their cozy sleeping bags and pulled on some clothes. When they got outside, they discovered that Christine had the campfire going, and slabs of bacon were sizzling in a cast-iron pan.
“Where did you get that pan?” Lisa asked as she and Kate came crawling out of their tent, yawning and stretching and looking as sleepy as Carole and Stevie felt. “I didn’t know you brought it.”
“I didn’t,” Christine said. “I got it from my family’s secret hiding place.” She led the others to a small opening in the rocks at the edge of the arroyo, too small to be called a cave. Inside was a large, sturdy wooden trunk bound in metal. Christine opened the lid and showed her friends the contents: cooking and serving utensils, extra drop cloths and blankets, a spare halter and lead rope, clothes, and packets of dried food.
“Wow,” Stevie said, impressed. “Nobody would ever know this stuff was here if they didn’t know where to look.”
“My family has been coming to this spot for a long time,” Christine said. “This way we don’t have to carry absolutely everything with us every time, and we’re prepared in case of emergencies.”
She grabbed some plates and forks out of the trunk. Then the girls returned to the campfire and helped themselves to bacon and slices of Phyllis Devine’s homemade bread, which Christine had toasted over the fire. Of course, Christine gave Dude his share of everything.
“This is delicious,” Carole murmured, her mouth full.
“Somehow I always think food tastes better when it’s prepared outside,” Christine commented.
Lisa nodded. “I know what you mean, especially when it’s eaten outside as well.” By this time the girls were all wide awake, and within a few minutes they had finished every last bit of the delicious breakfast.
“I guess we’d better think about cleaning up and heading back soon,” Kate said reluctantly. “There’s a lot of work to be done before the auction tomorrow.”
“Before we do, I have one last surprise for you,” Christine said mysteriously. “Come this way.” She stood up. “Oh, but first you’ll need to change into your swimsuits. I hope you brought them like I told you to.”
“I have a feeling I’m going to like this surprise,” Stevie remarked to Carole as they returned to their tent and hurriedly changed into their suits.
When everyone was ready, Christine led them up the far bank of the arroyo and through the woods beyond the corral. There they joined a creek—the same one that meandered past their campsite, Christine told them. They followed the creek through the woods until it flowed over a small drop-off and emptied into a peaceful, shady pond nestled among the trees.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Lisa exclaimed. Just enough sunlight filtered through the treetops to set the calm surface of the water sparkling.
“The shade keeps the water cool even during the heat of the day,” Christine explained as she stepped down past the small waterfall onto some large, smooth rocks along the edge of the water below. She shed her T-shirt, boots, and socks, then slid into the water. “Come on in!” she urged the others.
They didn’t have to be asked twice. Soon all five of them were happily splashing around in the pond. The water came up only to their shoulders, so it was too shallow for diving, but plenty deep enough to have fun swimming and dunking each other. “I thought there was supposed to be hardly any water in the desert,” Stevie said after a few minutes. She kicked her feet up and floated on her back, gazing up into the treetops above.
“That creek is fed by a natural spring in the mountains,” Christine explained. “Even during the driest times this pond is always at least partially full. That’s one reason my parents chose this particular campsite.”
“Well, I for one am glad they did,” Carole announced. She ducked her head under the water and smoothed back her hair, then hauled herself out of the water onto one of the flat rocks and settled back contentedly to let herself dry off.
“Me, too,” Stevie, Lisa, and Kate agreed in one voice.
After a few more minutes the girls put their boots back on and returned to the campsite. They all wished they could stay longer, but there was work to be done for the auction, and they knew that would be fun, too. Besides, Carole told herself, as long as the Devines owned The Bar None—and she was sure they would for a long time to come—The Saddle Club would always be welcome at the ranch. There were sure to be more trips West, and more camp-outs like this one. And that was a very nice thing to think about indeed.
CAROLE, STEVIE, LISA, and Kate arrived back at the ranch a couple of hours before lunchtime. They had ridden straight home from the campsite, dropping Christine off at her own house, though she promised to come over to The Bar None later in the day to help out. Walter came out of the barn as the girls rode up to the corral.
“Whoa, there,” he called to them with the hint of a smile. “Y’all are looking kinda trail weary.”
“Us? No way,” Stevie replied tartly. “What do you think we are, a bunch of dudes?” Still, she didn’t object when Walter offered to take care of the horses while the girls got cleaned up.
After a shower and a quick snack, the girls were completely refreshed and ready to get to work. And there was plenty of work to do, just as Kate had promised. Frank put Stevie and Kate on whitewash duty. Thei
r task was to make sure the fence around the corral looked its very best for the auction. Meanwhile Phyllis had asked Carole to help her in the kitchen, where she was busy making huge vats of lemonade and piles of homemade cookies. Carole was happy to join right in, especially after tasting a few of the cookies.
Lisa decided this would be a good time to find John and apologize. She had managed to put him out of her mind during the camp-out, but now she found herself thinking about him again. She told Phyllis and Carole she wanted to ride out and see if John needed any help—leaving out the part about the apology—and accepted the brown-bag lunch Phyllis quickly put together for her. Then Lisa checked with Walter and found out that, as she had expected, John was out on the range working with the herd.
A few minutes later Lisa had Chocolate saddled up and was on her way to find him. It didn’t take long; the herd was grazing not far from the ranch, near a stand of trees that Lisa knew from previous visits hid a small water hole. As always Lisa was impressed by the size of the herd. It wasn’t often that she had an opportunity to observe seventy or eighty horses together on the open range.
Today, however, she had other things on her mind. She looked around and soon spotted John nearby, astride a buckskin horse named Peanuts. He was sitting still, watching the herd with a thoughtful look on his face. As Lisa rode up to him, he turned and smiled at her.
“Hi, there,” he said. “I was just thinking I could use a hand, and here you are.”
“Hi, John,” Lisa replied, shyly returning his smile. “I wanted to find you and apologize about the other night.”
“Accepted,” John said with a wave of his hand. “Now, will you help me? I want to make sure exactly which horses we’ll need to cut out tomorrow morning.”
Horse Tale Page 7