United Colleges - Vox Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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The horse had come just last week. When Johnny had got up to do the chores there was a horse van sitting in the driveway. Two men were talking to his Uncle Ted. After a while they shook hands. One of the men let down the tail gate and backed out a rangy palimino stallion. Johnny’s eyes nearly popped when the man hand¬ ed Uncle Ted the lead rope and drove away. For a second he thought his uncle had bought the horse. Another look at him changed his mind. Animals like that couldn’t be bought for the amount of money to be found around an old run-down ranch like theirs. It still seemed like a dream Johnny thought as he leaned on the pasture fence looking at the horse. “Who’d have known we’d have a palimino staying here for a whole month,” he said to himself. “Just imagine owning such a fine horse and then leaving him and going fishing for a holiday. Why if I had a horse like that I’d spend all my holidays with him. Of course, it’s fortunate for Uncle Ted they decided to leave him here. The board money will help out. Good for me too,” thought Johnny. He had been given the job of caring for the stallion. A chore he didn’t mind at all. Today was a sort of special day. Uncle Ted had gone to Calgary and wouldn’t be home till late at night. The dust had hardly settled after the old truck had rattled out of the driveway before Johnny had hurried over to the corral. He’d been itching to ride the stallion ever since he’d arrived. A desire that became even stronger when Uncle Ted had told him riding the horse was forbidden. He slipped between the fence rails and walked slowly toward the stallion. “Quicksand,” that’s what the men had called. Johnny couldn’t see why. He had seen quicksand in the swampy area down the creek a piece. There was really no resemblance between that sticky mud and this golden beauty. “The colour of a newly minted U.S. coin,” that’s how the official description went. Quicksand certainly fit the description perfectly. Now the time had come to realize his wish, Johnny felt a little uneasy. To ride the big golden horse had been his aim, but he was beginning to have his doubts. He was a spirited horse, much too spirited for a 10-year-old to ride. And besides Uncle Ted would have his hide if he found out. Taking a carrot from his pocket he held it out on the palm of his hand. To his surprise, Quicksand stopped grazing, walked over and daintily picked the carrot out of his hand. Johnny had expected some sort of resistance. Pancho, his aged buckskin, always managed to steal at least one carrot before Johnny could grab the halter and fasten a rope to it. Quicksand walked along quietly as he was led to the fence. Johnny hesitated a few moments gathering courage, and then climbed up on the fence. Placing his left han d on the horse’s withers, Johnny hopped and suddenly he was astride the golden horse. Quicksand pranced a little nervously, Johnny dug his heels into his flanks, Quicksand reared. Johnny clutched a handful of the silver mane to steady himself. Johnny dug his heels in again and the palimino moved into an easy lope. Despite his prancing, head tossing manner, Quicksand was well trained and easy to handle. After manoeuvering around the enclosure for a few minutes, Johnny’s fears were dispelled so much that he decided to go out for a ride. He could have a little ride he told himself, and no one would be the wiser. The Ander¬ son’s ranch was only a half mile away but they would still be busy looking after their brood mares. Just to be on the safe side he’d ride away from the Anderson’s. They might happen to see me, and besides it wasn’t such a good idea to go near there with all those mares around. He frequently had trouble with Pancho there. The buckskin was re¬ luctant to leave, even at meal time. Johnny dismounted and unlatched the big gate and gave it a push to open it wide. He began to lead Quicksand through when it started to swing back. Quicksand stopped dead for a fraction of a second and then lunged forward. The rope slid through Johnny’s hands and the stallion was free. Johnny stopped just long enough to see which way he went and then ran to the barn to saddle Pancho. Johnny was startled, but not too worried. Quicksand had headed toward the Anderson’s. He hoped he’d find him gazing over their pasture fence as Pancho so often did. Moments later Johnny emerged from the barn with Pancho. Quicksand was nowhere in sight. John¬ ny mounted and dug his heels into Pancho’s flanks. A few moments later he pulled his mount to a slid¬ ing stop on a hill overlooking the Anderson’s. John¬ ny’s heart sank: no horses were in sight. He was going to ride in and have a look around when George came out of one of the out-buildings and waved vigorously. Johnny pretended not to see him and galloped out of sight. George was his best pal, but Johnny didn’t want to see him today. He’d tell everyone what had happened. Uncle Ted would find out for sure. A sickening dread spread over him as he realized what had happened. If he didn’t find Quicksand, what would Uncle Ted do? Worse yet, what would the men who owned the horse do? They could probably put Uncle Ted in jail. Even if they didn’t do that, Uncle Ted would have to pay for the horse. He must have cost at least a thousand dollars! They’d have to sell the ranch, and Pancho too. Johnny slowly became aware of the smell of sweat and Pancho’s pounding hooves. In his panic he had been galloping all this time. The Anderson’s spread had long since disappeared behind the hills of the 25

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T ox jCLiterar j £ dwarcl e C entipede Suddenly I was aware of it— A wobbly-legged centipede Trailing itself through the snow— As I came by casually, I stopped, And it didn’t notice Whether I was there or no. Of course, I was quite far away, And it was concentrating all In keeping its feet in line, Though I will, incidentally, say It was continually out of step As it inched over the white incline. But two antennae, at its head Gazed on that back of fuzzy, wool spots And sharply kept the rule, For these legs had just got out of bed, And belonged to a column of bonneted tots Who were lining up for school. —A. E. Spalding 24

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rolling landscape. Pancho must have run nearly two miles. Johnny pulled him to a stumbling halt and slipped out of the saddle. Pancho stood puffing through dilated nostrils, head hanging, reins trailing in the dust. Sweat oozed out from under the saddle skirts, formed into little rivulets, ran down his heaving flanks and dripped to the ground. Johnny didn’t know what to do. He had lost a valuable horse through his foolishness and might have killed another in his panic. He remembered the lecture Uncle Ted had given him when George and he had been caught racing their horses one hot afternoon. “You shouldn’t expect any animal to run on a day like this, especially those two horses. They’re both soft and well-up in years,” he said. “You can’t feed a horse grass and then work him as though he got three gallons of oats every day.” Uncle Ted always became awfully angry when¬ ever he saw anyone mistreating an animal — or disobeying orders, thought Johnny. He was always fair, but it didn’t lessen the penalty any. Johnny got to his feet. He had to find Quicksand and get him back before he was missed. Even if he recovered the horse his uncle would punish him severely if he ever found out! There wasn’t really much reason to believe Quicksand had come in this direction. Johnny felt he had to look somewhere anyway. He just couldn’t give up. Tracking was impossible in this country. Twitch-grass, burned by the sun, and cement-like soil bore no imprint of those who passed along the way. So Johnny started out hopefully scanning the landscape for a sign of the missing horse. At first he stood in his stirrups for a better view at the top of each rise of ground. As the day became hotter and Pancho’s steps slowed, Johnny looked less and less. Pancho plodded on and on, chosing his own way through the broken country. Johnny closed his eyes and let him go without knowing or caring where he went. Johnny was conscious of the stifling heat of the sun as it moved slowly overhead and then commenced its gradual decline in the heavens. Towards late after¬ noon Johnny was roused. Pancho seemed to be walk¬ ing a little faster, Johnny thought. Later he broke into a jog-trot and neighed. As they crested a hill Johnny saw why. They were back at the Anderson’s. Pancho automatically turned in and trotted over to the watering trough beside the barn. George hurried out of the house when he heard the sound of horse hooves. “Hey, Johnny. Where’ve you been?” cried George as he ran across the yard to the barn. “Gee whiz, I’ve been looking out for you all day. I knew something was wrong when I found that palimino over here this morning and ...” “You found Quicksand,” said Johnny anxiously. “Sure. He was standing outside the barn when I came out to do the chores this morning. Figured that something must have happened, because you never let the horse out of your sight, so I hid him in the old chicken house till I was finished my chores and took him over to your place . . . say, why did you ride away when I saw you this morning?” But Johnny couldn’t answer George just then. He’d fainted. The strain of the day had been too much for one small boy with a big problem. —Phyllis N. Laking 26