The Fox Hunt

by Bonnie Bryant

  Carole and Stevie looked at her. That was a thought with some merit in it.

  “And the good news is,” Lisa continued, “it will only go on for another four days.”

  “Unless he marries her,” Carole chimed in, “in which case, the whole Lake family can retire on her money.”

  “I’d rather work, thank you very much,” Stevie said.

  “The thought of Veronica as a family member is enough to ruin anybody’s day,” Lisa said. “So I’m glad you came to us with your troubles. We know just how to help you get your mind off of them.”

  “What’s that?” Stevie asked.

  “Mucking out stalls,” Carole said. “Mrs. Reg was here earlier and said that three of them needed cleaning.”

  “Where’s the nearest pitchfork?” Stevie asked.

  Mucking out stalls was not anybody’s favorite job. If Stevie was eager to do it, her friends realized that she must really be worrying about her brothers. They were glad she had come to them. They would put her to work and get her mind off her troubles.

  “Follow me,” Lisa said.

  “I don’t need to. I can follow my nose,” Stevie teased.

  STEVIE BOUNCED OUT of bed before her alarm had finished sounding its first “ding.” It was pitch-black outside, but that didn’t matter. It would be light by seven o’clock, when the hunt would begin. Until then, there were a zillion things she had to do—if only she could remember any one of them. She rubbed her eyes and headed for the bathroom, pretty sure she would know what it was she was supposed to do by the time she finished brushing her teeth. It was hard to remember to be logical when every bit of her concentration was shattered by her excitement about the fox hunt that would start in—she squinted and tried to focus on the clock—two hours.

  * * *

  IT WASN’T HARD for Lisa to concentrate. Concentration was her specialty. However, she was already so organized that there wasn’t much for her to concentrate on. On Friday night, she’d laid out everything she would need to put on in the morning, in the order that she’d put them on. Underwear, socks, jodhpurs, shirt, boots, jacket. Everything was there. She was out of bed, washed, and dressed in fifteen minutes. She loved her special hunting clothes—the snowy-white shirt with its white stock tie and the pin to hold the tie in place. The trim tweed jacket made her look so wonderfully formal. She smiled at herself in the mirror. Then all she had to do was to sit and wait for the clock to say six o’clock so she could leave for Pine Hollow. That was a mere forty-five minutes.

  CAROLE WENT THROUGH her checklist a final time. She had to be sure to bring all of Starlight’s tack in the van with her horse. She’d need his saddle and bridle, of course, and the saddle pad. Then she’d also need her own grooming bucket. It was a good thing she’d remembered to pack her extra saddle soap. Her saddle was actually pretty clean, but there was no telling if somebody else might need it. It was best to be prepared. She didn’t want to disappoint her horse. Also, she had a new curry comb, and she wanted to take that. She dropped it into the bucket.

  Then she thought about sugar lumps and carrots.

  She didn’t like to give Starlight too many treats, but there was going to be some rough riding today, and Starlight would deserve a special snack. He also might like an apple. She burrowed into the vegetable drawer and emerged with a bruised apple that her horse would love.

  She stopped in the middle of the kitchen, trying to think if she’d forgotten anything. Yes. She had left her riding hat up in her room, and she had to make sure her father was ready to drive her to Pine Hollow. She dashed up the stairs, calling out to her dad as she ran into her room.

  “I’ll be right there,” Colonel Hanson assured her. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

  Carole snapped her hat on her head. It was the easiest way to carry it. Then she dashed down the stairs again, picked up her grooming bucket, went through the kitchen door into the garage, and climbed into the front seat of the car. She fastened her seat belt and waited patiently for her father.

  In just a minute, the driver-side door opened and Colonel Hanson got in. He looked over at his daughter. A smile crossed his face.

  “Haven’t you forgotten something?” he asked gently.

  Carole didn’t think so. She thought she’d remembered everything Starlight could possibly need. Then she looked down. The first hint that something was wrong was when she saw she was still wearing her fuzzy pink slippers. Another look confirmed her worst suspicions. She was also still wearing her pink-flowered pajamas.

  “Uh, I’ll be just a minute,” she said.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Carole’s father dropped her off at Willow Creek. She was fully dressed and ready to ride. She also had her father’s sworn promise that he would never tell anybody what she’d done that morning. Carole knew her father wouldn’t tell, but she also knew that even if he did, nobody would be surprised. It was just like Carole to remember everything in the world for her horse and nothing for herself. Carole didn’t mind that about herself. Nobody else seemed to, either.

  “Hi!” she said, greeting Stevie and Lisa, who had both arrived sooner. “You look wonderful in your hunt clothes!”

  “You, too,” Lisa said. Carole smiled to herself, wondering briefly what Lisa would have said if she’d actually arrived in her pajamas, fuzzy slippers, and riding hat.

  “Did you see what I saw?” Stevie asked, changing the subject.

  Lisa shrugged. “What was it?”

  “Veronica diAngelo.”

  “No way,” Carole said. “Even Veronica wouldn’t have the poor judgment to try to get in on the hunt at the last minute—not after she was so officially disinvited a week ago. You think you saw her here?”

  Stevie shook her head in confusion. “It’s early and I could be all wrong, but I don’t know another chauffeur-driven Mercedes-Benz in this part of the state, and I know I saw one. It was pulling onto the road a couple of miles from here, out of a big empty parking lot. It was heading back toward Willow Creek when I saw it.”

  “So, who cares?” Lisa asked. “Even if it was Veronica, the good news is that she was going away from here. She won’t be here to ruin the hunt for us today, will she?”

  “Sometimes people who don’t get enough sleep do and see some very strange things,” Carole said with authority. “I’m sure it was all in your imagination.”

  “I hope so,” Stevie said. “Because I can’t think of a good reason why Veronica would be anywhere near here, but I can think of a lot of bad ones.”

  “Oh, come on, stop being so paranoid,” Lisa said.

  “Paranoid? Who’s paranoid?” Phil asked, joining the girls. “My friend Stevie?” He was teasing and Stevie knew it. She smiled when she saw him. “Maybe it’s just because she’s afraid that the real fox is going to give us a better hunt than she did.”

  “No way!” Stevie said. Her friends were pretty sure she was right about that.

  A big truck pulled into the driveway then, and there was a terrible din from the back of it.

  “Methinks the hounds have arrived!” Phil announced, and the girls and Phil walked over to where the truck had stopped.

  Hounds, Stevie thought. There really were hounds, and there really was a fox somewhere out there. Suddenly the whole idea of a fox hunt was very real. It wasn’t just something to look forward to. It was something she was doing! She felt a chill and got goose bumps. She, Stevie Lake, was about to go on a real fox hunt.

  Stevie wanted to watch the owner unload his hounds, but it was time to unload their horses from the Pine Hollow vans and tack them up. The hunt began in just twenty minutes, and all the riders would be subject to an inspection before that. There wasn’t a minute to waste.

  Tacking up their own horses wasn’t hard for The Saddle Club. They’d been doing that ever since their first days at Pine Hollow. Another thing they’d been doing since those first days was helping others, and that took longer. Once Topside had his tack on and Stevie was sure both she and her horse
could withstand any inspection, she looked around to see who needed her help.

  Nearby, May was having a little trouble with Luna. The pony didn’t like riding on a van and seemed to be in a nasty mood. He wouldn’t let May tighten the girth.

  May was about to give up and climb into the saddle anyway.

  “Uh-uh,” Stevie said. “It’s got to be good and tight whenever you ride, but particularly on a ride like a hunt. If a saddle is loose, it can just slip upside down, and that always happens at the worst possible time, like when you’re going over a fence. If the saddle turns upside down, imagine what would happen to you!”

  “Can you help me?” May asked.

  “Don’t I always?” Stevie said. “That’s what friends are for. Besides, I’m stronger than you are.”

  Stevie suggested that May hold Luna’s bridle and try to distract the pony with affection and pats while Stevie tended to the girth. She lifted up the skirt of the saddle and examined the buckle, estimating she’d want to move it two holes tighter. She listened to May chatter with the pony, and she watched the pony’s belly. One thing horses and ponies often did when they wanted to keep somebody from tightening a girth too much was to take a big breath of air and try to fool the human being. Stevie was not about to be fooled by a pony. She watched the movement in the horse’s chest and belly carefully. As soon as she saw him breathe out, she took hold of the leather and pulled. Three notches later, she was satisfied that the saddle was tight enough. Luna looked over his shoulder at Stevie. She was sure she was getting a dirty look from the pony, but she was equally sure she hadn’t hurt him and that she’d made him much safer for May to ride. She gave May a boost into the saddle and led her out to the area in front of the stable where all the riders were collecting.

  “Look at all the dogs!” May said excitedly. She began to climb down out of the saddle so she could play with them.

  “Hounds,” Stevie said. “Remember? And they’re working animals, not pets. Max said we wouldn’t be allowed to pat them at all.”

  “Oh, right,” May said, and she sounded very disappointed.

  “I heard the trainer say something about how we could feed them their breakfast—after the hunt. Will that be okay?”

  “It’ll have to be, huh?”

  Stevie smiled. May was eager to be in on everything and to do everything right. She was really a great kid, and Stevie liked doing things with her. She was sort of like a little sister that Stevie had never had, and that made her a whole lot better than all the brothers she did have.

  Stevie told May she was going to fetch Topside and she should wait for her there. The two of them could start out together in the hunt. May seemed to think that was a good idea.

  Stevie had to walk through the place where the hounds were being held in order to get to Topside. Max was there, talking with the hounds’ owner, who seemed more than a little concerned about something. Although Stevie didn’t always listen to everything that was said to her, she almost never missed the opportunity to eavesdrop on something other people were saying to one another.

  “Why are they making so much noise?” Max asked.

  “Fox must have been right through here,” the owner said. “They’ve picked up a scent for sure, and they are ready to go. If they are this excited, the fox may be nearby. This may be a short hunt.”

  Stevie couldn’t listen a whole lot longer without being too obvious about it, particularly after Max gave her a dirty look. She moved on and mounted Topside, hoping the hounds’ owner was wrong. She was looking forward to a good long hunt and a lot of fun while they did it.

  Soon all the riders were gathered and ready for inspection. While Max looked them over, Mr. Baker gave final instructions. He introduced the hounds’ owner, a man named Chester, who would ride with them, and he introduced Chester to Lisa, the Junior Master, and Phil, the junior huntsman. Stevie was very excited for her friends and the honors they had, leading the hunt. There was a little twinge of envy this time that she didn’t get to play a starring role as she had with the mock hunt, but it was okay and she knew it. This time, it was for real.

  Chester stood in the middle of a circle of hounds, all on leashes that paired them together. “They’re called couples,” he reminded them. “Today, we have twelve and a half couples to hunt with. In case you need help with your math, that means twenty-five hounds.” The young riders laughed. “And these guys are raring to go. Are you ready?”

  The young hunters all nodded. They were as ready as they were going to be.

  “Then let’s be off.”

  At these words, Max, who always seemed to have a way of surprising his young riders, did it again. He pulled a short brass horn out of a bag, raised it to his lips, and blew a very rapid one-note call. The riders didn’t know the name of it, but they all knew what it meant.

  Chester released the hounds, and the hunt began.

  “WHAT’S THE MATTER?” Stevie asked Chester when she saw the totally confused look on his face. The hunt had started just thirty seconds earlier, and already it seemed that something was amiss.

  “It’s the hounds,” he said. “They should be following the scent, and Mr. Baker was sure it would head over to the east. Instead the hounds are running around in circles in the yard here, and they all look like they’re going crazy.”

  That part was definitely true. Stevie and the other young riders had expected to take off with a bang, but it seemed that they were standing still with a bang—or at least with a howl—because that was the sound the hounds were making. They were dashing in and out among the legs of the horses, some of whom weren’t very used to smaller creatures running around their legs, and some of whom were getting nervous about it. Stevie had already advised May to hold onto her reins very tightly. Luna was definitely jumpy. Topside was doing all right, but Starlight didn’t like all the activity at all. Fortunately, Carole was in complete control.

  Then one of the hounds put his nose to the ground, took a few tentative steps forward, and began a new kind of bark altogether.

  “He’s got something! It’s a find!” Chester announced. Stevie remembered that meant the hound had found the trail. At the new bark, all the other hounds looked up. Obviously, in hound-talk, the word was out that they were ready to go—and go they did—right into the barn!

  “No way was there a fox in here!” Mr. Baker said indignantly.

  “Something was,” Chester said, a little irritated with all the confusion.

  However, since the hounds seemed so sure of themselves, there was nothing to do but to follow them. Lisa gave Diablo a little kick, and all the riders followed—right through the barn.

  If a fox had been in the barn, it was clear that he didn’t stay there for long. In an instant, the hounds were through the barn, followed by forty riders on horseback, and then they aimed straight for Mr. Baker’s house!

  Twenty-five hounds raced up onto the front portico. Forty horses and riders stopped short of going up the steps. Twenty-five hounds traipsed the full length of the portico and dashed around the rear of the house. Forty horses and riders followed, not on the portico, of course, just along the edge, through Mr. Baker’s flower patch. Twenty-five hounds sped through the laundry yard under flapping white sheets. Forty horses and riders bolted right after them, unable to stop before running into the sheets. Five sets of very dirty sheets lay trampled in the muddy dirt of the laundry yard. Two laundry poles lay next to them.

  “What’s going on here!” Mrs. Baker called out angrily.

  “Nothing, dear,” Mr. Baker assured her. “It’s just a little—oh, well, I’ll help you later, okay?”

  Nobody wanted to wait around to hear the answer to that. Nobody could, anyway. Before Mrs. Baker could gather her laundry and her wits for an appropriate retort, the hounds were off again—this time scurrying under the Baker children’s swing set and then right through the pumpkin patch next to it. Forty horses and riders made a mess of the few pumpkins still ripening. Mr. Baker’s face showed
his distress. Chester’s face showed only confusion.

  “Something’s definitely wrong,” he said to Max. Max didn’t have a chance to answer. The hounds were moving so fast, all any of the riders could do was follow them at breakneck speed.

  Within seconds, twenty-five hounds and forty riders were on the road. The fox’s scent stopped dead at the roadside. The whippers-in, whose job it was to keep the hounds fanned out until they could pick up the scent again, began milling around the pack.

  Then there was a howl, the sound the riders had come to know as the sign that the hounds had found something. It was on the other side of the road. Twenty-five hounds and forty riders crossed the road. The trail followed the edge of the road for a hundred yards or so, taking all the hounds and all the riders right over a sewer pipe, and then it stopped dead again.

  “Let’s see if it picks up on the other side of the road,” Stevie suggested. Sure enough, there it was.

  “THIS IS WEIRD,” Chester said. “The scent doesn’t do this. The hounds don’t act this way. This behavior is not normal for hounds following the line of a real fox. Smells don’t leap across roads. Something’s fishy.”

  Chester’s use of the phrase “real fox” struck Stevie as odd. She wanted to ask him what he meant, but as a junior whipper-in, it seemed presumptuous to question Chester. Meanwhile, the combination of the strange behavior of the hounds, the weird trail of the scent, and the unexplained presence of the diAngelo’s Mercedes so early that morning were making Stevie very suspicious, and very unhappy. She was building up the nerve to question Chester when the hounds started yowling again, and they were off.

  The hunt continued in just that strange way for another half an hour. Even though Chester, Max, and Mr. Baker kept saying that this was all very strange, the young riders were having a great time. This was very different from their usual trail ride, and somehow having the adults so confused made it all the more fun. That is, everybody was having fun except Stevie. She was getting a very bad feeling about it all.