Ticket to Curlew (8 page)

Anyway, Prince was practically Sam's. Why should he ride any other horse?

THE NEXT DAY
Sam worked with Pa to get the barn ready for the winter. Pa covered cracks between the boards with tarpaper while Sam gave the stalls an extra good cleaning.

He was just starting to pitch in fresh bedding straw when Pa said, “You'll only need to take care of two of the horse stalls, Sam. You see, we have a problem.”

He laid his hammer on a low beam and turned toward Sam. “We can't afford to feed all the horses all winter. We don't have the money to buy oats, and anyway, we don't have enough hay for five horses. It's a problem lots of folks out here have, but they have a solution.”

Sam stood with the pitchfork in his hand and stared at Pa. Was he going to sell Prince?

Pa went on, “People turn the horses loose on the prairie to fend for themselves for the winter. The horses run in herds. They can find grass under the snow to eat and folks build shelters of fencing and straw to make wind breaks for them. They get along all right.”

“But you won't put out all the horses,” Sam managed to say.

“No, we have to have a couple. We'll need to get into town and there may be some work we can do around the place. I've decided to keep Rabbit and Lady in the barn. They have never faced a prairie winter. The other three have. Why, Prince was probably born out on the range.”

“But Prince is small and he's used to being almost a pet,” said Sam. He couldn't believe that Pa would turn Prince out.

“The horses look after each other,” said Pa. “They choose a leader who keeps them together and finds shelter when they need it. Prince is a tough horse. He'll be fine.”

Sam went back to pitching straw. He could hardly see where it was landing because of the tears in his eyes.

Josie was furious when Pa told the rest of the family about the horses.

“Prince will die,” she said. “He's used to people who share their lunch with him. The horses will fight and he'll get killed or he'll starve. I know he will.”

Matt just said, “I'll miss him, I'll miss him.”

“I'm sorry,” said Pa, “but facts are facts. We can't afford to feed five horses. Rabbit and Lady are a good team of work horses. We can't run a farm without a team like that. I could sell Prince and Goldie and Pete. But this way they'll be back next summer.”

Sam sat feeling miserable. He knew what Pa was saying. If they had to lose a horse it would be better to lose Prince than a good plow horse. There was no use arguing about it.

All that night Sam dreamed about blizzards. He was searching for Prince in the swirling snow. Again and again he saw a shape in the blinding whiteness, but each time he got near, it disappeared. He woke up exhausted.

At breakfast Pa said, “Ride out with me, son, to set the horses loose. You'll see that they accept it. I'm sure it's happened to all three of them before.”

So Sam got Prince from the barn. Pa rode on Rabbit leading Pete and Goldie. Rabbit would bring both Pa and Sam back. As they left the farmyard, Sam could see Matt and Josie standing at the front window. He knew they were crying.

They rode about five miles to the west. Pa said that a number of settlers had agreed to set their horses loose in the same area so they could form a herd.

After that they didn't talk much. Sam was feeling Prince's muscles move beneath his hide and watching his mane blow in the cold wind. He wished he could tell him that this was not his idea.

The place they stopped was no different from any other part of the prairie except there was a U-shaped structure built of posts and wire with straw heaped inside it. Pa said it was a shelter. Sam didn't believe that loose straw would even cut the icy wind, but he couldn't say anything.

He slid off Prince's back and went around to his head. He held out a piece of biscuit he had saved from breakfast. It had apple butter on it. Prince took it with his soft mouth and munched it. Sam rubbed his long nose.

“Take care of yourself, boy,” he whispered. “I'll be waiting for you.”

Pa reached a hand down so that Sam could swing up behind him. Then he turned Rabbit and urged him to a gallop. Sam looked back. Pete and Goldie were already nosing the snow, hunting for grass. But Prince was gazing after Sam and Pa. He followed them with his black eyes until Sam couldn't see him anymore.

The next morning Josie got up from the breakfast table and began to clear the dishes away. Suddenly she stepped over to the window.

“Look,” she said. “I knew Prince wasn't a range horse.”

They all looked. Prince was standing at the farm gate. Pa got up.

“You children stay here,” he said. “I'll take him out alone this time.”

But before he left he went into the bedroom and they heard him pull the storage box from under the bed. When he came through the kitchen he was carrying the rifle. Josie gasped and Matt's eyes were big and round.

Sam took two steps toward the door, but Pa held up his hand.

“I'm not going to shoot anything,” he said. “But I have to drive Prince away or he'll keep coming back. A shot in the air will do it, I hope.”

He pulled on his boots and his heavy jacket and went out with the gun in the crook of his arm.

The children sat glumly around the table. Mama cleared away the dishes, poured hot water from the kettle into the dishpan and began to wash the bowls. She didn't ask anyone to dry. Sam thought of the cold empty land where Prince would have to live through the coldest emptiest months. He hated the prairie. He hated it for Prince and for himself. Without Prince the prairie seemed like a prison.

Once the dishes were done, Mama must have thought that they had brooded long enough.

“It's just two weeks to Christmas,” she said. “I'm counting on you children to decorate the house.”

They would not have a Christmas tree or evergreen branches, of course, but Mama had been saving paper. Some was colored and some was white.

“Paper chains will make the house look festive,” she said. Josie and Matt cheered up immediately. Josie mixed up some flour-and-water paste and Matt began cutting sheets of paper into strips.

“Pa left me some work to do,” said Sam, and he went out to the barn where he spent the morning fiercely nailing strips of tarpaper over every tiny crack in the walls. By the time Pa came back he was hot and the job was nearly done.

Pa looked around and said, “Good work, Sam. Stop pounding a minute. Prince will be all right. He trotted off in the direction of some other horses. He's not alone.”

Sam said, “Yes, Pa,” and went back into the house. There he was swept up in preparations for Christmas whether he liked it or not.

That's the way it was every day. If he didn't want to make paper chains or cut snowflakes from the pages Matt had torn out of his old scribbler, he had to go out to the barn where Prince's empty stall made him feel sad and angry.

Jabbing the pitchfork into the stacked-up hay and tossing it hard into the stall helped some. At least Rabbit and Lady didn't try to cheer him up. Sam thought they missed the other horses. And they probably hated staying in the barn as much as he hated staying at the house.

He was so gloomy for the first few days after Prince was gone that Mama finally said, “Sam, the only help for you is work.” She gave him a little blank notebook and set him to planning the crops they might plant next year and the yield they might expect. “Who knows what will come to pass,” she said, “but if you draw the plans neatly and do the calculations properly, it may help your Pa.”

Pa looked at Sam's figures about the yield of wheat and barley they might expect if the weather was perfect, “If we're that lucky we'll buy a Model T Ford,” he said. “What do you think about that, Sam?”

A Model T! It was the first interesting thing Sam had thought about since the school concert. A few people in Curlew had automobiles. It was wonderful to watch them wheeling down the street all by themselves. But there were hardly any roads that wouldn't shake a car to bits or get it stuck in the mud depending on the season. A horse, now, could go almost anywhere. And there he was, thinking about Prince again.

Mama saw his face change. “Sam,” she said, “it does no good to mope. Prince will either survive the winter or he won't. He's lived his whole life on these prairies. I think he has a good chance.”

Sam didn't know why, but Mama's blunt words made him feel better. He still worried, but he stopped moping and began to think about Christmas. The next time Pa drove Rabbit and Lady to town, Sam went along.

He took the few dollars he had earned helping Adam build a fence and went into Pratt's store. There he picked out a photograph album for Mama and Pa. Pa took pictures sometimes but they were all jumbled loose in a box. He knew Mama would like sorting through them and sticking them on the handsome black pages of the album. He looked at hair ribbons for Josie but in the end he got her a wooden top. She would like it better. He really wanted to get a jack-knife for Matt, but they cost too much so he settled for a bag of marbles. He didn't see why they couldn't play marbles in the house or in the barn instead of waiting for spring.

So Sam was ready for Christmas in spite of everything. The house was strung with paper chains and hung with snowflakes, and a frozen turkey, ordered from Edmonton through Mr. Pratt, was thawing in the coolest corner of the house. Sam went to sleep on Christmas Eve with the happy feeling that Christmas, at least, could be counted upon.

He was right. The only thing missing was the smell of the Christmas tree. The biggest surprise was a sleigh. Pa called it a cutter, and as soon as there was enough snow they would all go for a ride.

But Sam liked Pa's present even better than the cutter. It came in a thin flat package. Sam felt it carefully through the paper. “It feels like a picture.”

Pa looked mysterious. “Ah, but what picture? That is the question.” Sam tore open the package.

It was a picture of Sam standing by the house holding up the two ducks he had shot. Looking over his shoulder was Prince.

Sam was amazed. He had forgotten that Pa had taken a picture that day. Looking at it he remembered how Prince had waited patiently for him while he waited for the ducks. Then they had come home together, triumphantly.

“Where are you going to put it, Sam?” asked Pa after Sam had thanked him several times.

Sam looked around. “Not in the bedroom,” he said. “It's too cold in there. Could I put it right here beside the window? Then we can all see it whenever we want to.”

“Good,” said Pa, and he got a hammer and drove in a nail. Sam hung the picture and they all looked at it and thought of Prince.

“He's fine,” said Mama. “I'm sure of it. Look what a smart horse he is.”

Sam looked at the picture for one more moment. Prince was smart. He just hoped he was lucky, too, out there on the prairie. He turned away from the picture.

“That turkey sure smells good,” he said.

ONCE CHRISTMAS WAS
past, winter settled over the prairie as if it never intended to leave. The days were very short. The Ferriers got up in darkness and went to bed in darkness. When the sun shone it was pale, as if its fire was cold. Mama had to light the kerosene lamp about four o'clock if anyone wanted to read.

There was just enough snow on the ground to keep the runners of the cutter gliding smoothly. It wasn't the heavy soft snow Sam remembered from Iowa. This snow was grainy and dry like sugar, and it flew up from the horses' hoofs as they trotted over the frozen ground.

“The whole world is frozen,” Sam said to Matt one morning when he came in from doing chores. The earth felt as hard as iron, and the metal feed buckets were too cold to touch without gloves. The leather harness had to be brought into the house and warmed by the stove before it would bend easily.

But worse than the cold was the wind. It never stopped blowing. At night Sam lay in bed listening to it drive tiny icy grains of snow against the house. In the morning he half expected to see holes worn through the walls as if a giant piece of sandpaper had rubbed against them all night.

But the little house he had helped Pa build stood firm and, as Pa said, it was tight. They didn't wake up with snow on the floor, though the air in the bedrooms felt like ice water when Sam and Matt cautiously slid out from under their quilts in the morning.

They grabbed their clothes and dashed for the kitchen where the big stove made a pool of warmth. Everyone took turns dressing close to the stove. By breakfast time some heat had reached the table, so their oatmeal stayed warm while they ate it. Pa had made sure they had plenty of coal. The lean-to was stacked with it. As the wind howled and the house shivered, Sam thought how strange it was that a shed full of black dusty chunks made them feel safe.

The short days seemed crowded with work that had to be done. Mama set lessons for each of the children to do each day. On baking day the table was taken up by bowls and rising loaves, and somehow they all ended up kneading and shaping the dough.

Baking was fun but laundry was terrible. The wet wash had to be hung near the stove or it would never dry. If there was a bright day Mama washed even though it was not wash day. Sam and Josie hung the clothes to dry outside. It seemed to Sam that they froze instantly, but somehow the wind dried them anyway.

Sam often thought about Gregor. The book Miss Barnett had lent him sat on the shelf with the books Pa read aloud in the evenings. It reminded Sam of his plan to teach Gregor some English. The problem was, how could they get started when they never saw each other?

Sometimes, when the weather was not threatening, Sam went into Curlew to get the mail. He usually took the cutter. Neither Rabbit nor Lady was a pleasure to ride. Lady simply did not like to be ridden. She poked along or went into a bouncing trot that was very uncomfortable. Rabbit was reliable but slow. When Sam rode Prince he felt that they were working together. Riding Rabbit was like riding a table.

But the cutter was fun. Rabbit dashed along the wagon track and the cutter blades sent a whirl of snow up into the air. Sam always hoped he would meet Gregor on the track, but he never did. And if they did meet, how would he manage to invite Gregor to come home with him and learn English?

One day Sam was out in the farmyard breaking the ice on the water trough so that the cows could have a drink. He heard the sound of the gate and looked up from his work.

There was Gregor, riding into the yard.

“Sam,” he called out.

“Gregor!” said Sam. He motioned toward the house. “Come in.”

Gregor shook his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. He held it out to Sam but Sam grinned and wouldn't take it.

“No,” he said. “Come into the house. We all want to see you.”

Gregor nodded and put the letter away. He climbed down from his horse and handed the reins to Sam.

“Oh, yes,” said Sam. “I'll put him in the barn. It's too cold for him to stand.”

When the two boys got into the house, Sam pulled out a chair and pointed to it. Before Gregor sat down he took out the letter and handed it to Mama.

“It's from Iowa,” she exclaimed. “Oh, thank you, Gregor. We haven't had a letter from home since Christmas.” She sat down to read it.

Sam looked at Gregor. He didn't know how long Gregor would stay, and he didn't want to waste any time.

“Matt,” he said, “I want to show Gregor a picture in your reader. Could you get it for me?”

He opened the book to a page that showed two boys sitting at a table reading a book together.

“Look, Gregor,” he said. “This is you, Gregor, and this is me, Sam.”

Gregor nodded but he looked a little confused.

Sam pointed to the book in the picture. “English,” he said. “Gregor, Sam, English.”

Gregor studied the picture. Then he looked up at Sam and smiled broadly. “English!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, English,” said Sam. He went to the shelf and got the book Miss Barnett had lent him. “Look,” he said, “I'll teach you some of these words.”

They turned the pages. There were pictures of birds and animals and plants, but now Sam realized that most of them lived in far parts of the world. What was the use of teaching Gregor to say penguin and llama and redwood trees? Those words wouldn't help him talk to people around Curlew, Alberta.

“We need pictures of ordinary things,” he said to Mama, who was reading her letter for the third time. “This book is interesting but I don't think it will help Gregor at all.”

“I know just what you need,” said Mama. “Eaton's catalogue.” She went to the bedroom and brought out a thick paper book. “I put it away because we really can't buy anything till some money comes in, but it will make a splendid school book.”

Sam opened the catalogue to a whole page of hats. He pointed to a broad-brimmed one.

“That's a hat, Gregor,” he said. “Hat.”

“Hat,” said Gregor. He had a little trouble with the h-sound, so he repeated it a few times.

Sam had an idea. He got his hat and put it on his head. “My hat,” he said. Then he got Gregor's hat. “Your hat.”

Gregor pointed to his hat and said, “Your hat.”

“No,” said Sam. He thought for a minute. “Matt, come and help me.” With the help of Matt and Matt's hat, Gregor soon had the idea of mine and yours as well as hat. Then Sam turned the pages of the catalogue again and stopped at shoes.

At the end of an hour Gregor could say, “Give me my hat and shoes,” and “Where are my hat and shoes?” Sam felt very proud.

Gregor looked out the window. The light was fading. “Where are my hat and shoes?” he asked and pointed west.

“Go home?” said Sam.

Gregor nodded. He put on his jacket as well as his hat and boots and grinned his wide grin. “Hat and shoes and Gregor go home,” he said and opened the door.

Sam watched him ride away on the black horse. He felt a little envious, but he knew the Chomyks had only two horses. They had no choice but to feed both of them through the winter.

After that Gregor came often for an English lesson. They used the catalogue for words and made sentences that Sam decided would be useful. Matt and Josie helped by acting things out and by talking to Gregor just the way they would talk to anyone. Sam thought Gregor learned most by just talking.

Mama suggested that Sam teach him to read the words they found in the catalogue as well as to say them. Once he started reading, Gregor wanted to write, too, so they all got busy helping him. It was fun because Gregor learned so quickly.

Once Sam said, “Should I come to your place sometimes? You always have to ride over here.”

“No, thank you, Sam,” said Gregor. “So small a house, so many people.”

Sam understood. It was probably dark, too. But soddies were warm, he had heard.

“Could you teach your little brothers and sisters English?” Josie asked another time.

“Later,” said Gregor. “Now I will help earn money. Later there will be time for English and school. Not yet.”

So Sam knew that Gregor would not be going to school when it started again in April.