Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: Bonnie Prince Fetlar: The Story of a Pony and His Friends by Saunders Marshall
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page
Ebook has 1726 lines and 50271 words, and 35 pages
"I feel as if I were in heaven," said Dallas in an awed voice.
"Wait till you ride," said Cassowary, "then you'll be in the seventh heaven."
"Cousin," said Dallas, "it's mighty good in you to take so much trouble with an awkward boy like me."
"Dad told me," she said sheepishly. "Then I know everyone has to learn. Hello! there's Happy Harry--want to go to a picnic, Harry?"
The lame young man was going slowly on his crutches along the road under the poplars. "No, thank you," he said with a brilliant smile. "I'm going to walk over to Neighbour Detover's with Mother."
"Nice boy," she said as we spun along. "My! I'm glad I haven't lost my feet--look out, you're heading the Prince for those cows. Give them a bit of the road. Cows have rights."
"I'm glad you haven't too many impulses," she said.
"I don't know what that means," said Dallas.
"How are you telling Prince Fetlar the way to go?"
"Which lead to the bit in Pony's soft mouth. Your feelings run along the lines to the bit. Pony feels them and his mind and yours keep working together. This fellow is bright enough to do things himself. If you don't approve you will check him by flashing a counter order along the lines. You must always keep your animal in hand."
"I wouldn't like to hurt his nice mouth," said Dallas.
"You'll never hurt him. You'll be too gentle probably."
"I'm glad we're meeting no one," said Dallas.
"We'll just pretend we are," she said promptly. "Now I'll show you how to turn out on a narrow road."
"Why do automobiles not come up here on this fine road?" asked Dallas.
"They do, but they can't come just now because the government is repairing the new road. It's a beauty, and where the big flat rocks are too dreadful overhead bridges are made. You came the old bad road."
"It was certainly bad," said Dallas feelingly.
"Dad is tremendously keen on road-making," said the girl. "He's never so happy as when he's laying out a new one. Roads spell progress he says."
"Ah! here we are at the top of the lake," said Dallas, "and entering quite thick deep woods. How lovely the air is. I can smell the nice damp earth and the breath of the pines--and there is a meadow in the distance," he went on.
"That is Beaver Meadow," said Cassowary, "and that lazy little river poking through it as if looking for the shortest way to the lake is Fawn River."
"What pretty little islands those are at the river mouth," said Dallas.
"That's the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe--you've heard of her?"
"Oh! yes, quite often."
"Well! there she is on that biggest island which is shaped like a green shoe. See her head sticking up from behind that high rock."
"Do you mean the silver birch broken off short?" asked Dallas; "that one with the queer bunch on its head?"
"Yes, that's her bonnet," said Cassowary. "One day we paddled over and nailed a big coalscuttle bonnet on her. See those birds on that tiniest island of all. What are they?"
"You're a born school-teacher," said Dallas admiringly. Then he added, "They are gulls--herring gulls, I think."
"Yes, don't they look wise? They sit there and ponder, ponder, then they fly away and come back and ponder some more. They're not a bit afraid of us. Hear me call them," and she gave a very good gull yell, "Cack, cack, ker-ack, ker-ack, ker-ack."
"Cack, cack, hah, hah, hah!" came back from one of the gulls who raised himself on his brownish black wings and circled over our heads.
"If it isn't my dear old friend Buffy!" cried Cassowary, rising up in her seat in her excitement. "Where have you been, my angel gull?"
"Kay-auk, kay-ow," squawked the gull, then he gave a kind of groan.
"Been having adventures, my darling?" she shrieked up at him. "Come and tell your old girl all about them. Did you go to Cuba or Lower California last winter?"
"Cow-ow," he responded with a long deep harsh sob.
"This boy won't hurt you, my pet," she shrilled up in the air. "Quick, Dallas, tell him you wouldn't shoot a gull to save your life."
My young master not knowing what to do with one creature on earth and another in the air, tightened the reins until he nearly sawed my tender mouth in two, while he threw up his young head and cried in his sweet voice, "I wouldn't shoot a gull, for I'm frightened to death of a gun!"
The gull brayed like a donkey, "Ha, ha ha!"
"He doesn't trust you," said Cassowary; "hunters must have been shooting at him. Good-bye, my angel. Come play with me when I'm bathing in the morning. Bah! my neck aches," and she dropped down on the seat of the cart. "Drive on, boy! For mercy sake!--the Prince is most on his hind legs. Do you want to choke him?"
"Tell me about that gull, will you?" asked Dallas as he gave me more liberty. "He's following us."
"He'd be down on my lap if it weren't for you. When he was a baby gull a strange bad boy out in a boat on this lake shot at him and wounded his wing. I was out in my canoe Bluebird, and didn't I pick up that poor gull baby pretty quick as he lay flopping in the water, then I overhauled the boat, trounced the boy who was quite astonished to find that a girl had fists, swam to my canoe, paddled home, mothered Gullie who made his home with the hens, and revelled in bread and milk. When he grew old, he flew away to Old Woman's Islands but whenever I went in the water he came and played with me. He wouldn't go near the boys. He thinks you're all bad."
"How would he play with you?" asked Dallas.
"Oh! he flaps round me in the water--strikes me with his wings. He's very rough but I give him as good as he gives me--slap for slap. He knows I like him. Hurry up, Prince, and don't try to listen to every word we say. The others will get there before us, although they have to go down the lake for fish."
"Does someone there get fish for them?" asked Dallas.
"Yes--the fire warden. He lives by the dam and catches fine big bass. Hush! Now, maybe well see Mr. Beaver."
"Who is he?" asked Dallas.
"Such a naughty little man. He and Mrs. Beaver are making a dam across the river and soon they'll have to be checked for they would stop up the water and make it so deep that the cows would drown when crossing from one meadow to another. Mr. Beaver is Dad's pet, though they don't have anything much to do with each other now. They just love each other apart."
"Then how does your Dad pet him?"
"It was in the past. He got him in Toronto. You know we have two rivers down there, one each side of the city, the Humber and the dear dirty little Don which is not clear till you get out into the country. Well, on the banks of the Don is our Zoo. We youngsters never go to it now for we either get mad or cry when we see beloved wild animals cooped up in small quarters. I always used to pray hard for them all to drop dead. One night a couple of years ago Dad was walking through the park by the Zoo when he came to a huge bank of earth with a hole in it. One of the park men was staring at it and Dad asked what had happened. He said a water main had burst and had carried away a part of the bank and some animal cages. They had got every creature back but one beaver and goodness only knew where he was.
"Dad said he hoped Mr. Beaver had gone to his animal heaven, then he went on down the hill to the river. Just as he was going to cross one of the bridges he saw a poor forlorn little animal sitting looking at the muddy Don. Dad said it was queer to see a wild thing sitting there in the electric light of a city of half a million people.
"Dad went softly up to him and the poor little creature whose head had been hurt let him take him up.
"'The river is too dirty to plunge into, eh!' said Dad. 'Well! I know a river where clean waters flow, and the cardinal flowers grow. Come, weary little man, and we'll put you in it."
"Then Dad took him to Aunt Laura Secord Hume's house in Rosedale and put him in his bath-room. Then he went to sleep.
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page