At the end of the week he went to Farmer Max and asked for his money, but again the farmer asked him to stay another week. And so it went on, till the little wooden horse had worked six weeks for Farmer Max, but had never had a penny in payment, which troubled him very much, as he wanted to get a lot of money for Uncle Peder.
At last he went to the farmer and said he didn’t want to work any longer, but would like to have his money and go away. Farmer Max roared with laughter, so long and so loudly that the little wooden horse grew angry, and although he was a quiet little horse, he stamped on the floor with his four little green wheels (now caked and muddy from the farm) and asked for his money at once.
Farmer Max then told the little wooden horse that he had never intended to give him a penny, but he wasn’t going to lose him! Oh, no; he was far too good a worker! So he took him by the head and locked him up again in the tumbledown stable, where tears of anger ran down the nose of the little wooden horse as he thought of Uncle Peder and the money that would never be his.
Day after day Farmer Max drove the little wooden horse out at dawn and worked him till sunset. Night after night he locked him up and went away chuckling at the thought of all the hard work the little wooden horse was doing for nothing. He meant to keep him for ever and ever.
But although he was so tired by the end of the day that he could scarcely trundle home, the little wooden horse spent half his night making a hole in the back of his stable, for even if he could not get his money he meant to escape.
Every night he scrabbled and burrowed till the hole grew so large that he had to cover it with straw by day, and at last it was just big enough for a little wooden horse to squeeze through. He waited one more day, for he wanted to have a whole night to escape in, and go a long, long way from Farmer Max before anyone found out that he had disappeared.
All day long he worked his very hardest. “Tonight I shall be free!” said the little wooden horse to himself, over and over again. When they came to take him home he was so excited he could not wait to have the cart unharnessed, but set off down the hill to the farm with it clattering behind him.
“Whoa!” called the farmer’s man angrily, but he had to run quite fast to catch up with the little wooden horse, who was so eager to get to his stable.
But when he got there – oh, poor little wooden horse! Farmer Max himself had found the hole and nailed it up with boards!
6
The Escape from Farmer Max
“I shall never, never escape!” thought the little wooden horse, as the tears ran down his face. “I shall have to work here for ever and ever, and, oh, what will happen to my poor master?”
By the morning despair had made him desperate, and although he was such a quiet little horse, no sooner had Farmer Max opened the door to lead him out into the fields than he charged out between his legs with a rattle of his wooden wheels, and sent the dishonest farmer sprawling. Out came the money from his pockets; silver coins rolled all over the yard; but the little wooden horse did not stop to pick any up, not even the wages he had earned – not he! While Farmer Max sprawled on the ground he scampered out of the yard with such a spinning of wheels that the stones jumped up off the road and peppered the ducks in the pond.
Nobody tried to stop him, and when Farmer Max struggled to his feet the little wooden horse was gone.
The angry farmer looked up and down the road in vain: there was nothing to be seen. He asked the ducks which way the little horse had gone, but they would not tell him. “Quaack! Quaack! Quaack!” they chuckled rudely, standing on their heads in the water and waving their feet disrespectfully at Farmer Max. At last he mounted his horse and galloped down the road.
“By hook or by crook I’ll catch that little wooden horse!” cried Farmer Max, but although he galloped for nearly five miles, he never saw a sign of the little wooden horse, and had to come back empty- handed.
“Quaack! Quaack! Quaack!” laughed the ducks, standing on their heads in the pond, and waving their feet at the angry Farmer Max.
Meanwhile the little wooden horse was hiding in the fields, with his heart going pit-a-pat! pit-a-pat! inside his hollow wooden body. For a long time he did not move, but when he did there was a clink! and a silver coin fell off the little wooden stand that carried his wheels.
“Well, that is a piece of good luck!” said the little wooden horse, who thought he had lost all his wages. He took off his head and put the coin into the hole in his neck, where it made a pleasant clinking sound. Then he stayed as silent as a mouse until the sun went down.
“What shall I do now?” said the little wooden horse when he was once more on the road. “Shall I go back to Uncle Peder and take my silver coin? But a silver coin is quickly spent, and the little old woman may chop me up for firewood. I had better wait until I have made my fortune.”
So he trundled along all through the night till he came to the canal.
Up and down the canal moved great barges laden with timber, barrels, and bales, while sunburned men and women and little sunburned children sat in the sun, chatting, calling out to other barges, or walking along the shore beside the horses that pulled the barges down towards the sea.
One of the barges was lying in close to the bank, and the barge people on her deck were sad and silent, sitting close together in a little group with no horse and no word for anybody. The little wooden horse did not like to see people so melancholy, and he was lonely with no one to speak to, so he trundled up the bank and said, “Good day!”
“It may well be a good day for you!” said one of the barge people. “Quite a good enough day for a little wooden horse, standing at his ease in the sun! But we have all these pit-props to take down to the sea, and to send across the water to the mines, and our horse is dead, so the barge can’t move, and other barges will get there before we do, and sell their pit-props, so that we shall not be able to get rid of our own when once we get there.”
This seemed a pity to the little wooden horse, so he said, “Well, look here, barge people! I am strong, and a quiet little horse. What will you give me to pull your barge down to the sea before any of the other barges?”
At that all the barge people burst out laughing, which made them look quite cheerful after all.
“Well, look here!” they cried. “If you pull our barge a mile we’ll give you a penny. And for every mile that you pull it you shall have another penny. But if we get down to the sea before any of the other barges you shall have a silver coin.”
To the little wooden horse this all sounded very delightful, and he could hardly wait until the barge people had fastened the rope round his neck and told him to start.
They soon stopped laughing when they saw how well he could pull.
“Look at that, now!” they said. “This little wooden horse will certainly pull us a mile!”
The great barge moved out into the stream, with the little wooden horse pulling and straining on the bank. When they had gone a mile the barge people threw a penny to the little wooden horse, who had now two coins chinking pleasantly inside his hollow wooden body.
Then they began to catch up with the other barges which were on their way to the sea, and as they came up with the first the barge people shouted, “Way, there! Way, there!” so that the people on the barge in front had hastily to unharness their own horse to let the little wooden horse and his barge go by. His barge was called the Marguerita, and on its decks the pit-props gleamed like great sticks of yellow candy.
Every mile that they passed the barge people threw another penny to the little wooden horse, and you may be sure they did not laugh at him any longer. The other barge people did not laugh either when they saw him coming, and heard the shout of “Way, there! Way, there!” from the deck of the Marguerita, which meant that they had hastily to unfasten the rope from their own horses and let the little wooden horse and his barge go by.
The day went on, and now the little wooden horse had overtaken all but three of the barges ahead of the
Marguerita; they were only a few miles from the sea. But the three barges ahead, the Daisy-Anne, the Elisabeth, and the Charlotte-Marie, were the fastest on the canal. They were pulled by powerful horses, who made the little wooden horse look very small indeed. He could see them ahead now, like specks on the towpath, and he thought he would have to be content with bringing the Marguerita fourth to the sea, and getting the fourth best price for the pit-props.
Suddenly, a long way behind, the little wooden horse heard the clop-clop-clopping of a horse’s hoofs coming along at a trot. At first he thought it must be one of the other barges hurrying to catch him up, but as it grew nearer and nearer his heart began to beat, and presently in spite of himself he turned round to see who was clop-clop-clopping behind along the towpath.
Not very far behind he saw a big figure trotting along on an old grey horse. It was Farmer Max! The farmer was still looking for his runaway wooden horse, and somebody on a barge at the canal’s edge had told how he had seen the little horse, harnessed to a barge, going down towards the sea. Now Farmer Max was hot in pursuit: he meant to catch the little wooden horse and take him back to work on his farm.
The barge people were astonished when the Marguerita began to move through the water at a speed that raised little waves around her prow, while on the bank the little wooden horse was galloping after the Elisabeth, the Daisy-Anne, and the Charlotte-Marie as though he meant to overtake them within a mile or so. When they heard the angry farmer shouting behind them and guessed what the matter was they laughed at Farmer Max and cheered on the little wooden horse, who was galloping his hardest, with the coins going clink-clink-clink! inside his hollow wooden body and the great Marguerita ploughing through the water behind him.
“Way, there! Way, there!” shouted the barge people as they came up with the Daisy-Anne. The people of the Daisy-Anne were rather loth to unharness their horse and let the Marguerita by, for they were near the sea and thought they should remain in their proper order; but then they saw the galloping farmer, urging on his old grey horse that was steaming with heat and panting with the speed.
The people on the Daisy-Anne thought this was a great joke. They took the rope off their horse and let the little wooden horse gallop by, with the stones flying under his wheels. Behind him came Farmer Max, but now the barge people had roped up their horse again, and he had to pull in or fall headlong over it. When he had got by, the Marguerita had nearly caught up with the Elisabeth, and the people on her decks were shouting, “Way, there! Way, there!” so that they could go by.
The little wooden horse was nearly dead with fatigue, but still his four little green wheels spun round and round, and he trundled down the towpath, with the Marguerita swinging along behind him.
The people on the Elisabeth cheered them on as they passed her, with only two miles between them and the sea, and the great Charlotte-Marie ahead, her decks piled with pit-props and crowded with people watching the race. The people on the Charlotte-Marie thought that the little wooden horse was trying to race them: they did not notice Farmer Max galloping along on his puffing horse, who, however much he was whipped, could go no faster, and was nearly spent.
The Charlotte-Marie wanted to be first in port, and was determined not to let the Marguerita pass her, so they whipped up their own horse, and the great barge began to move rapidly down the canal towards the sea.
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” thought the little wooden horse. “If the Charlotte-Marie gets first into port we shall have to wait outside until she has unloaded her pit-props, and while we are waiting Farmer Max will catch me, and all will be over.” And he made an even greater effort to overtake the Charlotte-Marie, which was plunging ahead at a great pace.
His wheels felt unsteady; at any moment he feared one might come off, and if that happened, then everything was lost. But he galloped faster and faster.
Closer and closer they drew to the Charlotte-Marie. In vain the people on her deck urged their own horse to hurry: he had come a long way and was already doing his best. Behind them the barge people on the Marguerita were calling, “Way, there! Way, there!” while ahead of them, already in sight, was the entrance to the port. The people on the Charlotte-Marie pointed to it, begging the Marguerita to remain behind now, since they were already so close and it made very little difference to anyone who entered first or second. But even if the Marguerita’s crew had been willing the little wooden horse himself would not hold back. He could hear the farmer coming up fast behind, the mighty snorts of his horse seemed already to be whistling in his wooden ears, and the people on the Charlotte-Marie had only just time to free their horse before the Marguerita swung past them, almost at the gate of the port.
7
The Little Wooden Horse Goes to Sea
Once in the port, the barge people quickly took the rope off the little wooden horse’s neck, and told him to run and hide himself until they had sold their pit-props, when they would come and pay him the rest of the money they owed him. They were so kind he knew he could trust them, so the little wooden horse trundled away to hide among the timber and the rigging till it should be safe for him to come out again.
Meanwhile Farmer Max had tied up his horse and was trying to get into the port; but as he had no passport everyone laughed at him and refused to open the gate. So presently he had to go to a hotel and buy food for his horse, before riding back to his farm as angry as a man could be.
The little wooden horse went to the far side of the port and watched the pit-props being lifted on to a ship – fifty at a time – by a large crane. Then, to his astonishment, an elephant who had been patiently standing at the side of the port with his keeper was also lifted into the air and swung across to the deck for all the world as though he weighed nothing at all.
“Well, that is very extraordinary!” said the little wooden horse, who had never seen such a strange sight in all his life. He was still standing and staring when the sailors noticed him and began laughing at him.
“Look at this funny little wooden horse staring at the crane! Well, my fine fellow, would you like a ride through the air for nothing?”
The little wooden horse did not know what to reply.
“Well,” he said to himself, “here I am, a quiet little horse, with no particular wish for adventure, having won the race of all the barges to the port, and escaped from the axe of an angry old woman and the clutches of a wicked farmer – now I’m being offered a ride through the air, and who is to say whether the boards of a ship are not harder than a bed of cabbages? Still,” thought the little wooden horse, “what did not hurt the elephant is hardly likely to hurt me.” So he thanked the sailors, and told them that he would very much like a ride through the air if he might give them the trouble.
The sailors put two bands under his wooden body, and then the crane began to lift him.
Up, up, up! he went, far higher than he had ever dreamed of flying – higher than the old woman’s roof, higher than the trees in the forest. He looked down on the port and saw the Marguerita, with the people on her deck busy unloading the pit-props. He saw the Charlotte-Marie waiting outside the port, with the Elisabeth close behind her. He saw no sign of Farmer Max, who had gone away to feed his horse, and this gave him a very pleasant feeling.
Now the crane began to set him down. Down, down, down! he came, like the swoop of a bird. The little wooden horse thought it was a delightful feeling as he came nearer and nearer to the deck of the ship. Then he saw that the crane was not going to set him down on the deck, but in a great hole in the boards which led down to the hold. Down, down! he went, till he felt his four little wheels gently touch the ground again, and there he was in a stall beside the elephant, under the deck.
They were both very surprised to see each other, and the little wooden horse had to tell his story a great many times before the elephant would believe him. After which, as the little wooden horse was very tired and sleepy, and the elephant’s stall was quite comfortable, he curled himself up in the straw and w
ent to sleep.
When he woke up there was a great deal of noise going on outside, and the little wooden horse decided to go and find the barge people. He asked the elephant to open the door with his great long trunk.
“But I can’t open the door!” said the elephant. “Look how fast I am tied up! They won’t let us out till we are across the sea!”
“But I don’t want to go across the sea!” cried the little wooden horse in a great state of agitation when he thought of Uncle Peder lying ill in the forest, and the barge people of the Marguerita waiting to finish paying him and to give him the silver coin. “Do you want to go over the sea?” he asked the elephant.
“Of course I do!” said the elephant, quite surprised. “I’m going to join a circus, and I shall earn a lot of money and become very famous. Perhaps the King will come and see me, and the ten little Princes and Princesses, and I shall have my name painted up in red and gold on all the tents.”
“That’s all very well,” said the little wooden horse. “But I’m a quiet little horse, and I don’t want to become famous. I only want to stay beside my master, once I have made my fortune, and live happily ever after. I don’t want my name written up in red and gold.”
He began to batter on the door with his poor little worn wheels, but there was far too much noise going on outside for anyone to hear him. Before very long the ship began to move, and he battered harder than ever – but nobody came.
“You had far better be quiet and make the best of it,” said the elephant. “After all, who knows? You may make your fortune very quickly across the sea.”
The little wooden horse sat down quietly, and began to think that perhaps after all the elephant was right. Across the sea there would be no Farmer Max to chase him, and he might be able to make a great deal of money. He lay down beside the elephant and made the best of it as he had been told to do.
Adventures of the Little Wooden Horse Page 3