Back Aa

Bonnie Prince Fetlar: The Story of a Pony and His Friends

<h2>CHAPTER XI ANOTHER LIE</h2> I had hidden myself among the lilacs but I could see quite plainly across the veranda into the big living-room. Dallas had sprung up and clutched the nearest person who happened to be Big Chief carrying a pile of plates in his hand. Smash! went the plates on the floor, and whack went Big Chief's empty hands against Dallas' shoulders. "What's the matter with you?" he exclaimed. "Are you crazy?" "That yell," gasped Dallas. "Is someone drowning?" "No, no," said Mr. Devering, "it's only Bolshy getting his bath." White and ashamed, young Dallas had sunk back on the settle, and Mr. Devering turned to his son. "Tecumseh, my boy," he said good-naturedly, "it seems to me you were laying rather violent hands on our guest." His tone was not stern. I saw he was not a person to aggravate a boy into revolt; however when Big Chief scowled and came to stare out in[Pg 135] my direction, both hands rammed sulkily into his pockets, his father stepped after him. "Your ugly humors are riding you to a fall," he said quietly. "Go apologise to your cousin." Big Chief gave him a quick look, then he went to Dallas and said gruffly, "I hope I didn't hurt you, when I grabbed your shoulders." "Not a bit," said Dallas; "but do tell me what that noise was." I saw Big Chief's lips just forming a W that meant he was going to say "Wolf." Then he changed his mind, for his father stood near him. "It's a Russian," he said. "He fought in France, was wounded, came to Canada as a stoker on a steamer, was arrested and put in a camp near here. The war over, he was released. He didn't want to go to Russia. He got lost in the woods. The game warden found him, and washes him and the Russian yells." "The warden is trying to make a good Canadian citizen out of him," said Mr. Devering quietly. By this time, the children were all standing by the table singing their pretty grace before meat. When they sat down Cassowary called out, "Dad, can't we take Cousin over to see the Russian? You'll like him, Dallas. He's all hairy like a dog." "Thank you," said my young master politely; "if he isn't getting hurt, I should like to see him." "We can take over the Russian blouse Mother is making for him," said the girl, "and you can see for yourself, Dallas, how kind the warden and his son are to him. But of course he must keep clean." [Pg 136] Dallas shuddered. He had great sympathy for anyone forced to go into the water that cold morning. "We'll go after breakfast," said Cassowary, "just the big kids." At this, there was a howl from Sojer, Dovey and Big-Wig who were evidently the little kids. Up here in the Canadian backwoods it was just like the same old story as in cities—the big children were always trying to get away from the little ones. Mrs. Devering gave her husband a helpless look. By this time the cereal had been put on the table by Big Chief and the children were busily eating it and pouring on plenty of rich wonderful cream. Oh! how I wished that some of the pale young children in cities could have such cream. "Daddy," said Mrs. Devering, "what are we going to do with these noisy children? They are as full of sound as empty vessels." "I don't know," said Mr. Devering. "I wonder whether it is because they are growing so fast. They never yelled like this before." "We've got to do something about it," his wife went on. "If their grandmother should come up this summer, she would be deafened." "It's nothing to worry about," he said, "only misdirected energy. The trouble with young things is that they can't remember to remember. What do they propose to do themselves about it?" and he glanced through the doorway at his children. [Pg 137] My dear young master was going on eating quite comfortably. For once this trouble was none of his. Whatever his faults might be he was no yeller. "Thpank the howlerths," cried little Big-Wig, who was the worst screamer of all. "Gate them," said Cassowary in a high-pitched voice. "Fine them," called Champ. "Send them to bed," exclaimed Sojer. "Take away their toys," shrieked Dovey. "And you Big Chief," said Cassowary pertly, "you with the brassiest voice of all, what say you?" He was finishing his oatmeal quickly, so he could get up and change the plates, and he said in a thick voice, "Cut their grub." Mrs. Devering smiled quite contentedly. "I think this expression of opinion goes to prove that each child has mentioned the punishment most disliked. Therefore if you baby don't stop screaming we'll spank you; Jeanne will be put in bounds; Champlain fined, James sent to bed, Marguerite deprived of her dolls and Tecumseh put on bread and water." The children all shrieked with laughter at the neat way in which their parents had trapped them, and I saw that there was good feeling in this family even in the matter of punishments. Big Chief was the only naughty one, and something would come to reform him I was sure, for he could not be a bad boy at heart—with such parents. The children were careful to speak in very even polite tones as they ate their bacon and eggs and[Pg 138] griddle cakes. I watched my young master's face and was delighted to see it growing redder as he sat by the fire and stuffed his young self with this good food. Soon he would be as hardy as these children. How he loved his uncle. He watched him as a cat would watch a mouse, and ate everything he ate and drank whatever he drank—— No one had coffee or tea, they had milk, cocoa, buttermilk, and cold water, which latter the kiddies drank as if it had been something that would make them super-children. As soon as breakfast was finished Mrs. Devering looked round at the squirming family and said, "Another reform—please get up quietly and push your chairs in to the table, but don't rise till I do. I'm hostess." In two minutes there wasn't a child in sight. "Where have they gone?" asked Dallas. "All have tasks," said Mr. Devering. "When I was a boy I thought as a boy who was a rich man's child. Servants waited on me. My children live in a new age. They must learn to wait on themselves." I could see the children flying about the place. Cassowary was carrying food from the kitchen to the hen-house, Big Chief had gone to help clean the stables, Sojer was sweeping the verandas, Dovey was putting seeds and scraps on the wild bird tables about the lawn. It seems there weren't enough birds about to kill the insect pests, so Mr. Devering was giving extra food to attract more. The curled darling Big-Wig was picking up[Pg 139] scraps of paper and bits of litter from the drive, and grumbling to his little aristocratic self as he did so. He would be a regular small slave-driver with servants if he had his head. Just as well there was a check-rein. "And what shall I do?" asked Dallas eagerly. "Come and see," said Mr. Devering, and to my delight he began to lead the way to my cabin, first calling out, "Come from behind the lilacs, you sly-boots." That was I, and I bowed my head a great many times to propitiate him as I joined them. Oh! what a lesson he gave my young master on the proper way to take care of a pony. "Horses are true friends of man," he said, as he led the way past my cabin and the barns up to the long horse stable on the hill. "Every boy should know how to take care of them. There are two classes of stables—town and country. We won't talk about the first to-day. This is supposed to be a model country stable. It is not in a barn where if the hay got on fire the horses might burn. It has a double row of stalls with doors opening outward—you see the ground is high, well-drained, and the stalls have an east and west exposure so all the horses can get a bit of sunshine." "Is it of stone?" asked Dallas. "No, concrete with a hollow centre for a dead air space." We walked inside the nice fresh-smelling stable and Dallas looked round him. "Where are the horses?" [Pg 140] "Out to pasture—let us go down this main alleyway and I will explain the lay-out to you." My young master was intensely interested as his uncle talked to him about the width of stalls, the size of windows, the proper kind of concrete flooring which should have wooden stall racks, the ventilating flues and rolling doors. "Why didn't you bring my Prince Fetlar up to this grand stable?" asked young Dallas, smiling at me as I thrust an inquiring muzzle over his shoulder. "Because we never assign a stall till we find out a horse's disposition. If you went to boarding-school you wouldn't want to bed next a boy you disliked." "Not I," said my sensitive young master with a shiver. "It makes me sick to be near people I don't care for." "Well, ponies are almost as particular as boys. Now come over to this side of the stable where the ponies face west. Here's your pet's stall next Apache Girl's. She won't have every pony next her, but she will get on with his amiable highness." This was a compliment for me, so I licked a bit of this nice man's shoulder in a caressing way, and he turned and gazed deep into what he called my "soft and soulful" eyes. "So you are to come up here, Prince Fetlar," said Dallas, stroking me kindly. "Now I wonder what this big stall beyond yours is for. It looks as if you could put a dozen ponies in it." "That's the hospital stall," said his uncle. "See,[Pg 141] there is a bed above it for a man to sleep when a pony or horse requires to be watched at night. A button by his bed enables him to turn on the light." "I see you have lights all over the stable," said Dallas. "Yes, the horse race likes cheerfulness as much as we do. Now let us groom the Prince." Didn't I step forward with alacrity when I heard this. "He knows every word we say," remarked Mr. Devering. "I'm mighty glad I chanced on so knowing a little fellow. Now, Dallas, a few words on grooming. Indians use the bare hand and arm—utensils in common stable use among us whites are the metal curry-combs, bristle body-brushes, corn-brushes, rub rags, sponges, whisks and hoof picks. Do you know why one grooms?" "To keep horses clean, my Uncle." "Exactly—horses shed particles of skin the way we do. One must remove them. To begin with I may say that I do not permit in my stables any metal curry-combs. Men are careless about filing the new ones and they worry a horse. I use no metal brushes. Now here is a brush for you—no, don't rub your Prince the right way of the hair—the reverse way to get out the dandruff and dry dirt. Here let me show you. The body brush is the one used to rub the hair the way it grows." I stood quite still, very much amused at the feeble pawing little hand of my young master,[Pg 142] such a contrast to the steady firm one of the man. Well, all young things have to learn. Mr. Devering showed the boy how to do my tail and mane and hand-pick the latter. Young Dallas shone best on the use of the rub rag with which he gave me a fine polish. Then, as I am a racer, his uncle showed him how to massage me. Dallas was delighted. "I never did this before for any animal," he said. "Why it almost makes my dear Pony human." "Ah! lad," said his uncle, "when one thinks of the state of uncleanness in which animals are allowed to exist one is appalled." "Don't nearly all our domestic animals come from wild ones?" asked Dallas. "Yes, my boy—and in a wild state they keep themselves clean, but when domesticated they can't. I think myself there is too much housing of dumb animals. Even in winter my creatures have their freedom for at least a part of the day." "It's pretty cold here in winter, isn't it?" asked Dallas. Mr. Devering's black eyes twinkled. "Forty and fifty below zero." "Why how do you keep warm?" "It's all a question of food supply. We eat nourishing things and dress warmly. You should see my children and animals disporting themselves in the snow and on the ice—often icicles hanging to them, their breath like steam. Nature provides them with coats of fat or extra hair." [Pg 143] "That is most interesting," said Dallas with a wise air, and putting his head on one side. Then he listened to his uncle who was singing four lines to him, <div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <div>"And Nature, the old nurse, took</div> <div class="i1">The child upon her knee</div> <div>Saying, 'Here is a story book</div> <div class="i1">Thy Father hath written for thee.'"</div> </div></div> </div> Dallas began to laugh merrily and said, "Uncle, I believe you are a magician. Already I feel myself beginning to like this place and even to look with a friendly eye upon the trees." Mr. Devering showed every one of his strong white teeth in a pleased smile, then he said, "Come and see one of the most useful things on the farm." "A vacuum cleaner for horses," exclaimed Dallas after we had crossed to the horses' side of the stable. "I never heard of such a thing." "Let's try it on the Prince," said Mr. Devering. "I see by the look in the tail of his eye that he is acquainted with its use." Then he passed over my back the soft rubber mouth with the high wind inside it. I liked it and did not wince. Then I listened to Mr. Devering who was saying, "We use this cleaner for the work-horses only. I prefer that you children rub down your ponies. Now I see a man from the sawmill out there and you have had lesson enough for one morning. Let us go back to the house." Arrived there, the children all swept young Dallas down to the wharf. I went along too, feeling[Pg 144] as light as a feather after my good grooming and vacuum cleaning. "Have you ever been in a canoe?" Cassowary inquired of my young master. "Oh! yes," he said quickly. Poor little lad. I knew by his face that he was not telling the truth. Oh! why would he lie? In the first place a pony or a child who lies is usually found out, and if you're not found out you feel so like a little fool that you lose self-respect. Cassowary was doubtful and said shrewdly, "Where were you ever in a canoe—not on the pond on Boston Common surely." "On beaches," said Dallas boldly, "with John and Margie." Now she had already found out that John and Margie were two elderly city servants. It was most unlikely that they would entrust their old bones to such skittish things as canoes. However she said nothing, but got out her slim blue canoe, put a paddle in it, and casting a glance at Big Chief, who was launching a larger canoe and calling out directions to the younger children, who after all had been permitted to come. "Champ, go to the bow," he was roaring. "I'll take the stern myself. Sojer sit down. Dovey, if you wriggle, I'll pitch you out. No you shan't take Sideways." I turned around. Who was Sideways? Of all things—a common tortoiseshell cat. Why in the name of cat sense would she want to go on the water? [Pg 145] Later on I found out all about her. One cat after another had been electrocuted on this farm for hunting birds, and this was a case of the survival of the fittest. She loved birds; she told me afterward; it was perfectly delicious to feel a little feathery ball wiggling between your claws, but she said, "I wanted to live, so I gave them up and as I just had to hunt something, I got after the things that even my masters hunt, namely fishes. I assure you I enjoy curling my claws in the water and catching little silly minnows, and I have learned to wade, so I have no fear of the water. I like sitting by a good fire and licking myself dry!" When I heard Cassowary speaking in a low voice to Dallas I turned from the cat. I think she dropped her voice so Big Chief would not hear. "You haven't been in a canoe before," she said. "You don't know how to get in. Give me your hand. Step in the middle of the road. Now fold yourself up like a jack-knife. So——" Dallas looked confused, took her hand, stepped into the canoe, over-balanced and went ker-splash! into the water and down under the crib from which the canoes were being launched. I waited two seconds, saw Cassowary drop like a loon after him, but she did not bring him up. Then I galloped to the beach and wading out swam carefully to the edge of the crib, thinking perhaps I could aid with teeth or tail, for one of my water stunts is to bring ashore children who pretend they are drowning. Cassowary, who was almost as much at home [Pg 146]under the water as on it, was plunging about like a seal, and just as I arrived had brought Dallas to the surface, and holding him by the collar with one hand and hanging on to the crib with the other she gravely watched Champ and Big Chief giving first aid to the drowning by putting my poor little master on his face and pressing the water out of his lungs. Mr. Devering came springing down the path like a boy, and when he saw his dear lad, his face went white and he said irritably, "What does this mean?" Dallas by this time was sitting up and spitting out last mouthfuls of water, so his uncle saw he was in no danger. "Come here, Dad, please," said Cassowary. Mr. Devering bent over his young daughter as she swayed herself idly to and fro in the water, only her head and shoulders visible. "Do you remember the picture," she said, "in the comic paper about the six boys and girls going gaily to pick mushrooms and it was labelled, 'They thought they knew mushrooms'?" "Yes, I remember it," he said impatiently. She went on, "Then there was another picture of six little funerals marked, 'But they didn't.'" "Yes, I remember that too," he said. "Now do come out of the water and go put on dry overalls." "Dallas thought he knew canoes, but he didn't," she said as she accepted her father's hand and climbed meekly out of the lake. Then she added, "And Mother calls these frilly ankled things 'overettes,' not 'overalls.'" [Pg 147] I heard a sound of sly laughter in my ears as I stood shaking myself and looking round saw Sideways the cat. "Girls are queer," she said. "Cassowary is jealous of the new boy. She has snubbed her father and praised her mother who does not pet the lad." "You mind your own affairs," I said crossly. "There are too many animals and humans watching my young master." As if he heard me Mr. Devering turned round. "You water-monkey," he said to me. "Champ, take him up to pony stall number 8 and dry and blanket him, and above all tie him." Then he went on helping my young master walk slowly to the house. So I was led away to my pony stall and Dallas was put in his room stall and kept there for some hours. "Dad! Dad!" howled the younger children who were not at all impressed by this accident, "aren't we going to see Bolshy?" "Another time," he called. "How would you like to have a picnic supper over there, and have Mother go?" They made the welkin ring when they heard this proposal, and smiling kindly on the little flock this patient man went on his way up to the house. I wondered what he would say to his nephew, but as it turned out he never mentioned the affair till days later. He just sat by the fire with Dallas, reading to him and trying to get his young mind off himself. The lesson came when they were both with me. <hr /> [Pg 148] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.