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Willow Island: A Horse Story Part 5

Category: Animated Animals

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Edited by Martin Wilsher

Brock had been taking a look round. “You have nice home here Sam,” he
commented. Sam thanked him for his complements. Whitehoof suddenly woke up and
looked round him. “What’s happening!” he squealed, thrashing about with all four
legs. Pip went to Whitehoof and soothed him. “it’s okay Whitehoof dear,” she
said, “we’re in Sam’s home, remember? We rescued you from the dark place.”
Whitehoof remembered then. “Oh, yes, I remember. I’ve been so awful to you and
Sam,” Whitehoof said, “I need to repair what I’ve done. I entered Sam’s home,
and because I was not wanted, I got trapped, and, and it’s all gone wrong! Oh
Pip, what have I done to you and Sam?” “You told Sam you could live in his world
Whitehoof. You rubbished him when he gave his reasons and asked if he could
touch me. You said to him that you thought he had a desire for me. Sam doesn’t!”
Sam went to Whitehoof and asked: “how’s your leg?” Whitehoof flexed the hind leg
that had been immovable due to his hoof being trapped. “It’s okay thanks,”
Whitehoof said, “Sam, you can touch me if you like, touch my ears, touch my
hooves. I don’t mind. Whitehoof lay still, while Sam explored his body, getting
to know Whitehoof’s stature and general appearance. He then touched Whitehoof’s
hooves, one after the other. “My left forefoot is my white hoof,” Whitehoof
said. Sam touched each hoof in turn. Whitehoof found he didn’t mind it in the
least. Brock saw Sam touching Whitehoof’s white hoof and commented: “Sam do same
to me once, trouble is, me have ticklish paws. Brock go end up in tree with
shock!” Sam invited Whitehoof to try exploring him. Whitehoof did so. Closing
his eyes, he felt Sam’s muzzle, then his head and ears, then his neck and body,
right down to his hooves. Whitehoof finished his exploration, and wondered why
he’d made such a fuss about it. “I’ll leave you and Pip to talk Whitehoof,” Sam
said.
Pip lay down beside Whitehoof. She nuzzled him gently.
“the others are resting in another cavern and Sam said we can stay here for as
long as we wish. I cant believe this place though, its just so … so perfect,!”
Pip loved this horse so much, she couldn’t understand what he did or why he
did what he did sometimes, but being near him sparked a desire for him which
only two horses who love each other could understand. She snuggled up closer,
caressing his ears, she couldn’t help it, she just had to show him how much she
loved him. Whitehoof returned her affection, he knew he didn’t deserve it after
the way he had treated her and Sam, but he loved Pip , he loved her with a love
which no amount of words could explain, he held her so tightly but he knew that
he had some explaining to do. “Whitehoof!” Pip whispered, “we must talk!” “yes,”
he said.
) Whitehoof looked at his mate in the faint light coming from the fireflies.
He loved her so very much, but sometimes he forgot what she meant to him, and
when she wanted to do her own thing, like let Sam touch her fur and hooves, he
flipped. “I love you Pip,” Whitehoof said lamely. He knew this wasn’t going to
solve anything, telling her that he loved her. After all, he’d not been very
loving or understanding when she’d told him of her intention to let Sam touch
her fur. “I don’t know how to start saying what I have to say,” Whitehoof said.
“First,” Pip said, “how do you think you treated Sam?” “Not very kindly,”
Whitehoof replied, “I ran him into the earth, then I insulted him. I told him he
had feelings for you, that now, I can see are not there. Sam loves a hug, and
that’s all he wants from you, I can see that now.” “You also upset me too,” Pip
said, “could you explain that to me?” Whitehoof knew Pip was putting him through
the wringer, but he ploughed on. “When you were letting Sam touch you, I saw all
of it, and I hated it Pip! He touched your hooves, and I thought that was my
preserve. I thought I was the only one who could touch your hooves, but you let
Sam do it, and I hated that!” “I said any horse could touch my hooves if they
asked first,” Pip said. Whitehoof nodded. “I remember now,” he said. “there was
something else too,” Pip pressed, “what did you do then? Something to do with
Sam, not me this time.” Whitehoof looked terrified! “I invaded his home Pip! I
shouldn’t have done it, I know that now! I walked to the bush, crawled through
the tunnel, that was an effort I can tell you. Well, I got into the inner
chamber, found a wall and walked along following that, crossed the river, then,
I fell down some stairs. I somersaulted, landing heavily at the bottom of the
stairs. I scrabbled with my hind feet for something to stop myself, and my hoof
jammed in the rock. I couldn’t free myself Pip! I tried so very hard, but I
couldn’t do it! My leg sore from struggling to free my foot, I gave up. Then the
darkness came. Well, it was always there, but now I noticed it, and because I
was trapped, it was worse Pip! I begged aloud for Sam to rescue me Pip! Then I
must have slept. I was woken by the sound of voices and the clatter of hooves. I
called out, and you found me. That’s it.” “Have you learned any lessons from
this?” Pip asked. “To trust the one you love,” Whitehoof said, “to try and
accept those who are different to myself. For I haven’t been very accepting of
Sam. He’s a kind, gentle gelding, who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Despite his own
problems, he took Silver into his care and is now looking after her. I couldn’t
have done that Pip. I’m sorry, but that’s just me. Silver is a very strange
filly, and I can’t get my head around what she is. I know I’m being intolerant,
but I can’t see how she can be how she is. Sam loves her dearly, I can see that,
and I would never come between them, but Silver, I can’t work her out, and she
scares me!” Pip didn’t feel the same way about Silver, but did not force her
views upon Whitehoof. “I like her very much,” was her reply. Pip thought for a
moment, then said: “I hope Sam and Silver have a long and strong friendship. She
needs a steadying hoof to guide her, and he needs someone to love and look
after. Sam will keep Silver safe, and she will keep him safe. I saw them in a
clearing once, Sam and Silver were cuddled close to each other, and Silver was
asleep. Sam was gently stroking her ears with his muzzle. It looked so peaceful
Whitehoof, I can’t put into words how it made me feel. One thing, don’t you
ever, ever try to drive a wedge between them! If you do, I’ll never forgive
you!” Whitehoof knew, Despite her love for him, Pip could still be critical of
him, and she wasn’t ashamed to tell him what she thought. Whitehoof knew their
bond was strong, but also knew Pip was independently minded. She had her own
views, and kept them to herself, unless pressed, as now. They got up and went in
search of the other horses. They found Sam and Silver making plans to leave the
chamber, so that Sam could show her round his domain. Not wanting to muscle in,
but eager to see for herself, Pip asked if, when Sam had shown Silver his home,
she and Whitehoof could see too. Sam agreed. Sam and Silver left the chamber
through a door into another chamber, the door closing softly behind Silver’s
tail.
The soft flooring was here too. Silver delighted in the springy feel under
her hooves. “Where did you get this floor covering Sam?” she asked. “I asked
some wild goats if they could store up all the hair they malted and let me have
it. It took a long time, but the herd was a large one, and I got all I needed.
It’s a great relief to come in here after the hard rock outside,” Sam replied.
They were in a smaller chamber now. Sam led Silver down a set of steep slopes,
the smell of hay and oats floated up to them on the slight breeze. “here is
where I store the food,” Sam said, “there is enough down here for a few years at
least. It is in case I’m stuck here. I have badgers who can forage for me if I’m
unable to do so. They are good friends to me. Silver saw chambers with oats,
hay, grain and other things a horse might eat. There was even a store of apples,
Silver had never tasted an apple in her life, and Sam let her try one. The taste
of the firm juicy fruit was heavenly. Silver savoured the apple, and once she
had finished eating, they pressed on into another chamber. The flooring turned to rock
now. Silver and Sam’s hooves clattered alarmingly as they made their way along
the passage. Sam led her up a series of gentle slopes, then, suddenly Silver
stopped dead! “Sam, I see light!” she said excitedly. Sam smiled. “Yes Silver,
this is a way out into the wood. Come, I’ll show you.” Silver followed him along
the passage to where it opened out half way up an almost sheer rock face. Silver
looked down and wished she hadn’t. “How do you get down from here?” she asked. “
See that ladder?” Sam said, waving a hoof to his right. Silver saw it. “Go down
backwards. It’s an escape route this, not usually used. First Sam, then Silver
clambered onto the ladder. Digging their hooves into the rock at every step,
they descended to the forest floor. “From here, it’s only a few yards to the
bush entrance to my home,” Sam said. They found the entrance, and Sam crawled
beneath the bush, with Silver following. They made their way back to the main
chamber.
Sam led Silver along the passage. When he got to the place where the door
was, he inserted the toe of his right forefoot into a crevice in the rock. This
opened the door. The crevice was designed for his hoof, and his alone. Sam had
many Falabella horses try to open the door, and only he could do it. The door
swung wide and they entered. In the main chamber, they found Snowdrop asleep.
Sam gently brushed her ear with his muzzle, Silver did the same. They both loved
Snowdrop very much. The white mare slept on. Silver looked at Snowdrop in the
half light: “Has she described herself to you Sam?” she asked. “I know Snowdrop
is all white, from her ears to her hooves she’s all white. She did let me touch
her once, and I’ll never forget it. The warmth of her fur was very comforting to
me. When Snowdrop hugs you, she really means it. I love that Silver. Sam
replied. Silver knew what he was saying. She would never forget the first time
Snowdrop hugged her. Distressed as she was, Silver felt safer with this mare
than she had with any other. Sam and Silver lay down close to Snowdrop, one on
either side of her, pressing their bodies to hers to keep her warm. They fell
asleep. Half an hour later, Snowdrop woke to find Silver and Sam cuddled up to
her. She lay on the soft flooring, exploring what her body was telling her. She
was pleasantly warm, and slightly hungry too. She knew Sam would know where food
was, but he looked so peaceful lying there, Snowdrop was afraid to wake him. She
looked at Silver and Sam in turn. Examining them, fixing them in her mind. Sam’s
chestnut coat, black mane and tail and black hooves, Silver’s dark grey mane and
tail, silver grey coat and white hooves. Snowdrop turned back to Sam and nuzzled
his ear. She then turned to Silver to do the same when she got the shock of her
life! Silver was staring at her! It shouldn’t have frightened Snowdrop, but it
did, one minute Silver was sound asleep, the next she had made eye contact.
Snowdrop squealed with surprise! “Silver!” Silver hugged Snowdrop tightly. “It’s
okay Snowy dear,” she said gently, “I woke while you were nuzzling Sam’s ear.
I’m sorry I scared you.” Snowdrop relaxed into Silver’s embrace. It felt good to
be hugged by another horse. Snowdrop loved hugging other horses, but it was nice
to have the hug returned sometimes. “You like that don’t you,” Silver said.
“Yes,” Snowdrop replied. She closed her eyes and let Silver nuzzle her ear. “You
are so soppy Snowy,” Silver remarked.
Whitehoof and Pip entered the chamber. "Hi, come on in!”
Snowdrop said. "Hi Mum!” Whitehoof replied "it seems nice and cosy in here,
please may we join you!” Pip asked. "Of course!” Snowdrop indicated for them to
lie down beside her.
Silver told them all about what Sam had shown her. The mention of the food
stores caused Snowdrop to prick up her ears. Whitehoof saw this and teased her.
“I think mum’s hungry. I saw your ears prick mum, you can’t deny that!” he said.
Snowdrop admitted she was hungry. “I think we all are,” Pip conceded. So they
went down to the food stores. When they’d finished eating, the horses asked Sam
to show them round. Brock had disappeared from the chambers, saying he’d have to
get back to his family. Snowdrop asked Sam about the soft floor covering.
“That’s goats wool,” Sam replied. Snowdrop and all the others stared at him.
I’ve heard it, but tell them Sam,” Silver said. Sam told them of the goats who
had given him their cast off fur. “No wonder it was so soft and warm!” Snowdrop
whinnied. Sam led them out of the chambers that made up his home and showed them
the escape route he’d shown Silver. “We won’t leave here though, we’ll leave
from the conventional entrance,” Sam said. So they made their way through the
darkness of the passages to the large chamber leading to the tunnel that led
eventually to the outside world. They crawled out from beneath the bush,
grateful to be in the light once more, and eager to tell the others what they’d
seen. Sam cautioned them about telling all because not all the horses could
visit his home, even though they were welcome. Perdita saw them, and, cantering
up to Silver, asked where she’d been.
“We went to Sam’s home,” Silver said, “but it didn’t start like that. I’ll
let Pip and Whitehoof tell all.” Pip said: “Whitehoof went into Sam’s place to
get away from a lot of things that were upsetting him. He, in fact, we’d been
there before when Sam had shown us into the inner rock chamber. Whitehoof went
in there, fell down some stairs and got his hoof trapped. Silver, Snowdrop,
Brock and I, along with Sam, went to look for him. We found him lying on his
back, one of his hind feet jammed in a cleft in the rock wall. Brock and Sam
freed Whitehoof, then we went to the place where Sam actually lives. That is a
wonderful place Perdita!” “you say the chamber was made of rock?” Perdita asked,
“I don’t think rock is very wonderful, so what is so wonderful about rock?”
Snowdrop answered: “Sam’s home is a place that I would dearly love to own. I
don’t know how he did it, but the floor is soft under hoof, not like grass,
softer even than that! The lighting is soft and gentle, the whole atmosphere so
peaceful. Sam’s home is a wonderful place.” Sam smiled with pleasure. “I’ve just
been thinking,” he said, “What I said about the larger horses not being able to
visit is wrong! The ceilings of my home are very high, and there is a place
where larger horses can get in, I think. It is not very accessible, but it might
be possible. We need very strong horses though, for there is a rock that closes
off the entrance to the passage. Then the passage is narrow. A sort of single
file job you might say. Also, there is something else about the flooring which
is a security measure. You need not worry about it though, for it will not harm
you, you will find out more about that if you come, Yes, Snowdrop, you can tell
the others. If they wish to visit, they can. For you have not seen the half of
the space in my home. I would be able to house all the horses in the herd, new
additions included.” Snowdrop arranged a meeting of the whole herd.
Sam and Silver wandered off into the forest. It was good to be out in the
fresh air. The autumn sunshine was surprisingly warm. this friendship meant a
lot to Silver, it was very special to her and she did not want anything to
change it. She loved Sam as a friend, and she did not want it to be any other
way, it was too precious to lose. Foxy heard them laughing as they trotted along
the track. “Hey you two! Its good to see you!” Foxy made a friendly gesture with
her paw. “I see you have been keeping busy Foxy!” Sam said. “Brock been talking
again?” Foxy smiled “That old badger, he knows how to keep us forest folk in
check. Ah well, must dash, hooves to clean. cant stop.” Foxy disappeared. Sam
was just about to tell Foxy about the meeting, it was too late, she was in a
hurry as always!
Silver called the meeting. All the horses flocked to the old oak, eager to
hear where Snowdrop and her company had got to, and not a little surprised that
Sam could have, what they’d heard to be, a very nice home. Some of the horses
said that it was impossible for such a place to exist, how could any horse, let
alone a blind horse live underground? Silence fell over the herd. Sam outlined
the fact that he had a home under their hooves. He left it to Silver to describe
his home. She and Snowdrop did a wonderful job, telling of the harsh passages
that kept intruders out, of the bush tunnels that meant even a Falabella horse
had to crawl through them, and finally of the relief on the hooves afforded by
the soft flooring inside the chamber that was the entrance to Sam’s home. Silver
described the soft lighting that gave the place a gentle atmosphere. Once they’d
finished, some of the larger horses had questions. Emma asked: “If a falabella
horse needs to crawl through the tunnels to get into this place, how are we
larger horses going to enter?” Sam replied: “There is a larger passage, it is
blocked by a huge bolder, we will need strong horses to shift the bolder and to
replace it when we’ve done. Also, there are other security features too, a
special flooring that makes trotting difficult and cantering or galloping
impossible, that’s to make sure you don’t surprise anyone inside. Your hooves
will sink into the thick soft flooring at every step. I’m sorry, but that’s how
careful I have to be.” Despite that, all the horses wanted to visit Sam’s home.
“all in all, it sounds a nice place. Poppy said.
The meeting broke up. Some of the horses wanted to see Sam’s home right
away, but Snowdrop told them that it was up to Sam when they went. All the
Falabella horses gathered round Sam and fired questions at him about his home.
“Do you live in a mountain?” one tiny colt foal asked. Sam smiled broadly. “I
suppose I do,” he replied. The foal’s eyes widened with surprised delight,
although Sam couldn’t see that. “Oh Sam, that’s amazing!” the colt enthused. Sam
smiled. The colt was about to ask another question when his mother quietened
him. “Sam doesn’t want to answer all your questions,” she said sharply, “he’s
got a lot to do before we go, if we go.” Sam was offended at this assumption. He
made his way carefully through the group towards the little foal. He had no
difficulty in finding the tiny creature, as the colt, seeing Sam coming towards
him, broke away from his mother’s side and met him half way. “Here I am,” the
colt said, overcome that the herd’s second in command should come to him to
answer his questions. This tiny colt was the only overtly interested horse in
the whole Falabella herd. Sam lay down, so he was not so massive to the foal.
“So what do you want to ask me littl’en?” he asked. The colt snapped: “Not
littl’en! My name’s patch!” “Sorry Patch, now what did you want to ask me?” Sam
said softly. Meanwhile Patch’s mother was getting angrier by the minute. “How
dare Patch just walk up to the herd’s second in command and talk to him as if
they were old friends!” She fumed. Another Falabella mare overheard this and
said: “Your Patch couldn’t be talking to a nicer horse Millie. Sam’s a fine
chap, and I’m sure is enjoying himself hugely. It is said that he’s great with
the foals, I don’t think you need to worry.” \Millie’s fire died. Patch realised
something was different about Sam. “You aren’t looking at me,” the colt said,
“Your head is turned to me, but your eyes aren’t looking at me, why not?” Sam
replied: “I can’t see you Patch,” Patch didn’t scream and run away, he did quite
the opposite, moving closer to Sam, so his muzzle touched the chestnut
gelding’s. “You can feel where I am now,” Patch said, “Now Sam, tell me more
about your home, please!” Sam realised Patch had easily taken the news that he
was blind, and had adapted to it on the spur of the moment. Sam said: “My home
is deep in the mountain Patch. It is large, we could fit every horse we have in
this herd, be they large or small into it.” While Sam talked, Patch rubbed his
muzzle with his. Sam thought this a kindly action, and rubbed back. Patch
laughed merrily. “I like you Sam,” he said. Sam nuzzled the tiny colt’s ear.
“Tell you what Patch, would you like to go on an adventure?” Sam asked. Sam
realised this colt was observant, also, he wanted to thank this tiny creature
for his understanding, and the only way he could think of demonstrating his
gratitude was to show Patch around his home before anyone else had seen it.
Patch’s eyes stared with undisguised delight into Sam’s. “That would be
wonderful!” Patch whinnied. “We must tell your mum though,” Sam said. Patch was
unimpressed. “Why?” he asked. “Because she needs to know where you are,” Sam
said, “how old are you Patch?” “Two months,,” Patch replied instantly, “I can
eat grass now too!” Sam smiled at the little chap’s enthusiasm for everything.
“Sam,” Patch said, his voice becoming sad, “my mum was saying horrible things
about you. She was, just a minute ago.” “I’m sure it was nothing,” Sam said,
“but I’ll talk to her.” Patch began to protest: “But Sam,” “No Patch, I can’t do
anything without letting your mum know where you are. Please understand me
Patch,” Sam pleaded. Millie came across the grass and shouted at Sam. “hey you!
What are you saying to my foal!” If Sam could’ve put his hooves over his ears he
would have done so. Patch rounded on his mother. “Did you hear me shout at him?”
He squealed. “Shut up!” his mother snapped, “I know how to deal with crippled
horses Patch,” \Millie replied crossly. Patch didn’t understand what she meant
by “crippled horse.” Then all became clear. “Sam, I know you cannot see me, so
you will not be able to see this!” Then Millie launched a hoof at his head!
Patch screamed a warning, and before his eyes, his mother seemed to rear onto
her hind legs and topple over backwards, landing with a crash on her back, her
legs furiously pedalling the air. Sam glared in Millie’s direction. “I may be
crippled, as you put it Millie, but I can defend myself,” Sam snarled, “and if
you try anything like that again, you will feel the worst I can do to you!”
Patch began to cry. His mother had tried to attack his new found friend and he
didn’t like it. Sam hugged Patch tightly. “It’s okay,” Sam said, “I’m fine
Patch.” “You mean her hoof didn’t hurt you?” Patch asked doubtfully. “No,” Sam
said. “But if you can’t see it coming, how did you not get hurt?” Patch asked.
“Patch,” Sam replied gently, “I can’t explain that fully. All I can say is that
because I can’t see, other abilities have been given to me. Now, because of the
way your mother’s treated me, I won’t tell her where you are going. Snowdrop and
a hundred others can vouch for me and tell her you will be safe. A
friend of mine will come with us. She’s over here, her name’s Silver.” Sam led Patch
over to where Silver stood talking to Perdita. Sam outlined the situation to her
and she excused herself, and followed Sam and Patch to the bush entrance of
Sam’s home. “This is the Entrance,” Sam said, “now Patch, I will go in first,
you follow, and Silver will be right behind you, okay? Oh, another thing, keep
your head down, the roof is rather low in here.” With that they crawled beneath
the bush. Patch found the crawling difficult. When Silver explained it to him,
that he should put one forefoot forward, bring the opposite hind foot under his
body and dig his hoof into the leaves, push forward, bring the other forefoot
forward and repeat the process with the other hind foot, Patch got the hang of
it in a few minutes. Soon they were in the inner chamber of leaves. Getting to
his feet, Patch looked around in wonder. “Is this your home?” he asked. “No, we
have a way to go yet,” Sam replied. Silver sidled up to Patch and said: “Take
hold of my mane in your teeth Patch, I will lead you. I will take hold of Sam’s
,mane in my teeth and he will lead me. That way we will get to his home safely.
Don’t worry about the darkness, we’re quite safe.” Patch took hold of Silver’s
mane. “Let’s go,” he mumbled.” Sam led them down the tunnel to the rock chamber.
Silver felt patch shiver as they entered. She nudged Sam and he stopped. “It’s
okay Patch dear,” Silver reassured him, ,”We’re safe.” “But it’s so dark!” Patch
whinnied, “I can’t even see my own hooves!” “Remember,” Silver said, “Sam can’t
see his, and he manages fine.” Patch replied: “yes.” he took hold of her mane in
his teeth again and they made their way down the passage, and across the river,
but this time they used a bridge further up the water course. Sam took them down
passages that were new to Silver, but made easier going as it was all slopes.
Soon they were at the door of Sam’s home. Patch had given up trying to look for
things, for he couldn’t see anything in the pitch darkness. Sam put his hoof in
the crack in the rock and opened the door. They all went inside. Once the door
was closed, Patch looked around him in wonder. “What a lovely place!” he
whinnied, “It’s all true what they were saying about the fireflies, there they
are!” he whooped, waving a forefoot at the walls. Patch rolled delightedly on
the soft goat fur flooring. “This place is wonderful!” he whinnied.
Patch felt safe with Silver and Sam. They took him to get some food and
then he slept for a while. “I just love this place!” Silver said to Sam, “I
can’t believe that you could have been here all by yourself for so long and it
seems that you know every inch of the place.” “yes,” Sam said. “I love it hear
too and I am happy to share it with my friends.”
Patch awoke after an hour or so and looked around him. “I could stay here
forever,” he said. Sam smiled at him. “It is nice here,” he agreed. Patch got to
his feet and looked nervously at Sam. “Um, my mum said that you had an argument
with a horse with a white hoof about you touching his mate’s fur? What was all
that about?” Sam replied: “As I can’t see horses Patch, I need to touch them to
find out how tall they are, their general appearance, etc. Whitehoof didn’t like
me touching Pip to find out this. He couldn’t see that I have to do things
differently because I can’t see. Do you see?” Patch laughed at Sam’s use of
language. “I do,” he replied. He said: “Sam, you can touch me if you like, I
don’t mind.” He went to Sam and stood in front of him. Sam touched Patch’s
muzzle, he then explored his head, ears and neck, continued to the foal’s body
and legs, and finally his tiny hooves. Patch lifted a hoof for Sam to feel. To
Sam, Patch was tiny! He said as much to the foal. Patch laughed at this. He then
asked: “Can I try it too?” Sam agreed, and Patch closed his eyes, using his
muzzle to explore Sam. Patch thought Sam was large when he saw him, but under
his carefully questing muzzle, the gelding was gigantic! Patch shifted his feet
as he worked his muzzle along Sam’s back, one foot stepping on Sam’s right
forefoot, Patch wondered how a horse could be so massive! Sam told him he was standing on his foot, Patch apologised and removed
his foot from Sam’s. Silver watched all this, marvelling at how Patch had taken
the fact that Sam had to feel him, rather than see him. There was suddenly a
loud banging on the door. Silver went to see who it was, shouting through the
voice tube, she realised that Patch’s mother had followed his hoofprints to the
bush. She had crawled beneath it and found her way, more by luck than anything
else, to Sam’s door. Now she was furious! “I want my foal!” Millie screamed,
“I’ve tried jamming my hoof into that hole by the door, but the door won’t open!
Let me in before I kick my way in!” Sam felt Patch cuddle closer to him. “Can
she break the door?” Patch asked nervously. “No,” Sam said. There was more
banging, then a lot of cursing. It seemed Millie knew a lot of dreadful equine
invective. “We can’t keep her out forever,” Silver said, “Sam, what is to be
done!” Sam led them away from the door to talk. “We can escape,” he said, “you
remember that escape route Silver? We can use that. It takes a different route
to the one Millie took, and we’ll not meet her.” “But what about Patch? He can’t
climb down ladders Sam!” Patch spoke up. “I will do it if I have to, even if you
have to guide my feet onto the ladder I’ll do it.” Sam hated having to put Patch
through this, but it had to be done, for they could not fight Millie. Sam could
fight, and so could Silver, but they were worried that Patch might get hurt. The
three friends slunk down the passage to the escape route. Patch looked with
trepidation at the sheer drop that confronted them. “how are we going to get
down that? It’s straight down Sam!” Sam smiled and said: “Show Patch the ladder
Silver.” Silver shoed Patch where the ladder began. “We have to go backwards
down that,” she said. Patch looked nervous. “Don’t worry,” Sam soothed, “I’ll be
going first, I’ll guide your feet onto each of the steps if you want me to,
Silver will be above you.” Hesitantly, Patch followed Sam onto the ladder. Sam
descended a few rungs, and helped Patch now shaking with fear, onto the first
steps. Sam and Silver helped Patch down the ladder, Sam guiding the tiny colt’s
hind feet onto each step in turn. First the left hind foot, then the right, the
right foot , then the left, slowly, slowly, until he and they were safely on
firm ground again. Patch looked at Silver with terrified eyes. “You made it
Patch dear,” Silver said, “Well done!” Patch ran to her, buried his face in her
mane, and burst into tears.
Millie listened at the door, she shouted from time to time and then
realised that there was no one there. She would have to retrace her steps. There
were so many twists and turns in this maize and she had heard what had happened
to Whitehoof, she was frightened. She was soon totally disorientated and lost.
Meanwhile, Patch had recovered his composure after the emergency escape
from the tunnel. He wondered what had happened to his mother in the tunnels, and
asked Sam about it. “I don’t know, last I heard she was banging on the door with
all her force,” he replied. “Do you think we should go and take a look in the
tunnels again?” Silver asked, “after all, we did kind of run off with her foal.”
Sam relented and the three horses crawled back under the bush. Patch crawled
easily now he had been taught how. Once they were in the darkness of the
tunnels, they roamed all over, calling out to Millie from time to time.
Meanwhile, Millie lay on the cold rock, wondering if she’d ever see daylight
again. She decided Sam was a horse she would have to do business with if she was
to get Patch back. Millie didn’t know what Sam’s intentions were for Patch, but
she was sure that the strange horse had something dreadful planned for her foal.
Fearing the worst, Millie burst into tears. Suddenly she pricked her ears, was
that a shout? The sound of hooves now, yes, there it was again! Millie scrambled
to her feet and squealed loudly: “I’m here! I’m here!” The hooves came closer,
but Millie could not see who they belonged to. Snowdrop approached Millie with
caution. She didn’t know what Millie would do in her distressed state. Feeling
the horse coming alongside her, Millie put out her muzzle and touched Snowdrop’s
right ear. “Who are you?” She asked. “My name is not important,” the horse said.
Millie then saw something else, the horse was luminous! Or that’s what it looked
like! Millie saw this was a mare, not Sam. The mare’s eyes seemed to glow in the
dark! “Who are you!” Millie screamed. “You might know me as Eohippus,” the mare
said. ~”No, no you’re not Eohippus! This can’t be true!” Millie whinnied. “Look
into my eyes Millie,” the mare said. Millie stared at the mare, her mouth
opening in shock! “She knows, knows my name!” Millie thought. Millie couldn’t do
anything but look into the white mare’s eyes. “Your foal, Patch I think his name
is, Well,” Snowdrop said, “he’s been taken away from here, but due to the love
he has for you, he persuaded Silver and Sam to look for you. I don’t know why,
for you don’t deserve it. You are a spiteful horrid mare Millie. Despite
assurances from ten well trusted horses, including the herd leader, you still
went into a place where you were not welcome, risking your life and that of your
foal! Who knows what will happen to Patch now. You have been very stupid Millie!
Millie stared at the white mare. She looked larger than Snowdrop, she couldn’t
be Snowdrop! The mare’s green eyes burrowed into Millie’s being! “You have one
last chance to save yourself and your foal,” Eohippus said, “you must go back to
the wood, and not attempt to find Patch. Let him come back in his own time, for
Sam and Silver are good horses, who will look after him as if he was their own.
Did you know that Patch has touched Sam’s fur? He’s even let Sam touch him. They
trust each other. Patch knows a little of Sam’s world, and he trusts to Sam’s
ability and friendship. You have not earned any horse’s friendship Millie. You
will go now, and never return unless the owner of this place decrees that you
may! Now go!” Millie watched the mare walk away. “How am I meant to find my
way!” Millie shouted, “It’s pitch dark in here and I’m lost!” Eohippus turned
back and said: “Trust in your hooves, let them take you where they will. Just
start walking, and then drift off into a dream. Your feet know the way. Wake
when you are back in the chamber of leaves.” So Millie walked and thought. Soon,
as the strange mare had predicted, she was back at the chamber of leaves. Millie
crawled out into the daylight. Snowdrop returned to Sam, Patch and Silver. “Your
mum is Safe Patch,” she said, “you may go back to her if you wish, but you may
also go with Sam and Silver. You are free to make your own choice.”
Patch decided he’d like to stay with Sam and Silver a little longer. They
were great company, and he was enjoying every minute. “I think I’ll stay with
Sam and Silver if that’s all right,” he said. Snowdrop smiled. She thought a
great deal of Patch, and thought that he was able to make his own mind up. They
all left the chambers and were soon out in the open again. Walking round the
bush, they found Jasper, Emma’s foal, looking intently at the cliff wall. “I
think I’ve found a door,” he said. Sam replied: “Yes Jasper, that’s the entrance
for the large horses, let’s go in and take a look.” There was one problem, a
huge slab of rock protected the entrance to the passage. “How are we going to
move that?” Silver asked, waving her right forefoot at the massive stone. “I can
move it away, but it will have to be a strong horse who can shove it back into
place,” Sam replied. With that he scrambled up the side of the cliff a few feet
and disappeared around an overhanging rock. As they watched, the rock door moved
away from a large hole in the cliff wall. Sam jumped down from his elevated
spot. “Let’s go,” he said. They went in. As soon as they stepped into the
passage, their hooves sank into something soft. It wasn’t mud, but seemed to
cling to their hooves as they walked. “What is this stuff on the floor!” Silver
whinnied, “It, it’s disgusting! It’s covering my hooves!” Sam smiled in the
darkness. “No Silver, it’s no danger. Your hooves are sinking into it, and yes
there is a little resistance when you lift your hoof, but it’s not any type of
mud. It’s marsh moss, it clings to whatever is put into it, be it a hoof, or
even a whole horse. I’ve known horses to be trapped by the stuff when they got
in to difficulties crossing marshes. It won’t hurt you, but it does it’s job
very well.” Indeed, they couldn’t walk very fast at all. Patch found it very
hard going indeed. His feet sank into the moss at every step and he was fast
tiring with the effort of dragging each hoof free. “If this was meant to slow
horses down,” Jasper remarked, easing his right hind foot out of the mosses
embrace, “then it’s done it’s job. Silver found that if she tried to withdraw
her hoof too quickly, the moss held on tightly, but if she did it slowly, then
it released it’s hold easily. The progress was very slow, but eventually, they
made it to firm rock. A couple of tight turns in the passage slowed them down
even more, only one horse at a time could attempt the turns, and this frustrated
everyone except Sam, who’d designed the system. “My home’s up a steep slope,
then turn right,” he said. The slope was steep! If it had been smooth rock, none
of the horses could have possibly managed it, but it was not smooth. The moss
was here also, and it’s habit of holding everything that pressed into it proved
useful. Soon, five exhausted horses came to the door of Sam’s home. Sam let them
in, and all flopped gratefully onto the soft flooring. “What a horrible way to
enter a wonderful place like this,” Jasper said.
There was suddenly loud banging on the door! Going to the voice tube, Sam asked who
was there. Emma’s voice came back. “Sam, please, could you let me in, I’m worn
out!” It was plain to the chestnut gelding that she’d followed the passage in
search of her foal, who no doubt, had left huge hoofprints in the mud at the
bottom of the rock face. Sam opened the door from the inside and Emma, looking
exhausted, staggered in. The Shire mare flopped down as if her legs had given
way beneath her. “That stuff on the floor, my hooves sank into it, and it was a
struggle to free them!” Emma squealed. “Sorry about that,” Sam said, “but it’s
security.” “Security against what?” Emma asked. “Horses running in and
attacking,” Sam replied. “Oh right. Emma said. Silver looked at Emma’s hooves.
She moved closer, asking Emma if she wouldn’t mind her examining each hoof in
turn. Emma rolled onto her side, exposing all four feet. “Go on,” she said
wearily, not caring either way. Silver looked at the mare’s hooves, touching
each one in turn, looking for the stuff that had held her own hooves so tightly.
She found nothing. Moving away, she thanked Emma and lay down to think hard.
“Marsh moss was a great horse stopper,” she thought.
) Meanwhile, the herd ranged all over the forest looking for their leaders.
Millie had become insufferable, her spiteful comments stung even the larger
horses. Desperately, the horses searched for Snowdrop. Snowdrop, lying in the
chamber, felt uneasy, as if something was going on outside, that only she could
deal with. Leaping to her feet, she asked Sam if there was an emergency exit,
that wasn’t down a rock face, or through marsh moss. Sam led her to a chamber,
where a slope disappeared into the darkness. “This is a chute, that will bring
you out into another chamber, from there you can crawl through to the outside,”
Sam said. Snowdrop looked down the sloping tunnel. “It’s steep,” she said, “How
am I meant to get down that!” Sam led her to a cart. It had straps on it. “I
will strap you on to this,” Sam said, “but don’t worry about not being able to
free yourself, you’ll be freed as soon as the cart stops. I have travelled this
way many times. “How is it that we’ve never found the cart?” Snowdrop asked.
“Badgers,” Sam said, “they keep it in their set and bring it back to me when
they find me. This is emergencies only Snowy dear. Now get on the cart. Snowdrop
clambered onto the cart and lay down on her chest. Sam strapped her legs down.
Her forefeet were tucked beneath her body, and her hind legs were bent, so in
affect, she was on her knees. Sam asked Snowdrop to put her head down, she did
so, and Sam put a band over her nose to make sure she didn’t hit her head on the
way down. “I must warn you,” Sam said, “When the cart stops, you will be thrown
forward, you will land in a pile of leaves. It will be a soft landing, but
forewarned is forearmed.” Snowdrop closed her eyes as Sam dragged the cart to
the chute. He lined it up, then got behind it. “Right Snowdrop, are you ready?”
he asked. Snowdrop wasn’t ready to be thrown into the darkness on a thing that
she hardly understood, couldn’t control and even less liked, but said: “Ok Sam,”
Snowdrop dared not open her eyes, she didn’t want to see the dark place into
which she was to be sent. Sam gave the cart a shove! The wheels found the slope,
and Snowdrop’s weight made the cart speed up alarmingly! Shrieking with fear and
terror Snowdrop hurtled through the darkness! This ride from hell got worse as
straight down turned into corners! Snowdrop took deep breaths, but she was going
so fast she found breathing difficult. Suddenly the trolley hit something with
terrifying force, sending Snowdrop flying through the air, the restraints unable
to hold half a tonne of horse any longer! Snowdrop felt herself somersaulting,
then she hit the ground! The world went black for her. After a long time,
Snowdrop came round and after a wile, began to explore where she was. She’d
landed on a pile of leaves, and Sam said the bush would not be far away, it
wasn’t. Snowdrop was grateful when she saw the light of day. Stepping out into
the light, she saw Millie and Perdita having an argument. It seemed Perdita was
getting the worst of it, and Snowdrop, even though she was bruised and
dishevelled from her swift exit from the chamber, felt she must intervene.
Stepping between them, she demanded to know what on earth was going on!
Millie stared at Snowdrop, hatred for her boiling in her eyes. “Not you as
well!” She squealed, “every horse is getting at me today! I’m just on the verge
of finishing this filly off when you turn up!” Snowdrop said nothing about what
Millie had just screamed at her, but repeated her question. “would one or other
of you, or both, tell me what on earth is going on here!” Perdita looked scared
and said, her words coming in a rush: “I said to Millie that I hadn’t seen Patch
for ages, and she said that Sam had him, and was refusing to release him. I said
Sam wouldn’t do a thing like that, and Millie started rubbishing Sam. I like him
Snowdrop, so I defended him. We got into a fight,,,” she paused. Snowdrop could
see they had been fighting, their coats were dirty, and their hooves were
chipped and scuffed in an unusual pattern to that of normal wear and tear. “For
your information Millie,” Snowdrop said, “Patch has been given the choice to
stay with Sam and Silver, or come back to you, and for the moment he’s decided
to stay with Sam and Silver. Who, I assure you, will look after him like he’s
their own. At the moment, Emma and Jasper are in there too. I had to come out in
a hurry, probably because of you Millie. I’m not impressed at all!” Millie
seemed to shrink back at the sight of the white mare. “Eohippus,” she said
faintly. “What did you say?” Perdita asked, not believing her ears. “Eohippus,”
Millie replied automatically, “That’s Eohippus, the white mare, she came to me
in the dark tunnels, and, and told me, that if I wanted my foal to live I had to
stop trying to find my foal. Eohippus told me to trust Sam and Silver! How can I
trust a blind gelding and a filly who looks as if someone did a bad paint job on
her?” Perdita had also spoken with Silver, and liked her, so leapt to her
defence. “Silver’s a lovely filly!” Perdita whinnied, “she’s kind and gentle,
not like you! You are spiteful Millie! That is why Patch went away with horses
who were kind to him! You know Patch has stroked Sam’s fur, and let Sam stroke
his. Patch trusts Sam! As a matter of fact, I do too! To show you how kind and
gentle Sam is, and how much I trust him, I will let him touch my fur, ears and
hooves! I will do it!” Millie couldn’t take her eyes from Snowdrop. “I hope my
foal’s safe!” She squealed, lashing out at Snowdrop! Millie was dropped where
she stood! One minute she was standing, the next she had collapsed, and lay
sprawled on the grass! Snowdrop turned tail and left Millie to recover, which
she would in a few minutes. Perdita watched as Millie staggered to her feet and
weaved drunkenly away from her. Perdita was determined to find Sam. She found
the open door to the passage and entered. Shrieking with fear as her hooves sank
into the marsh moss, Perdita struggled to free herself, screaming for Snowdrop
to help her! “Snowdrop! Snowdrop! If you can hear me, I’m trapped! My feet are
trapped and I can’t move them!” She felt a muzzle brushing hers. “It’s okay,”
Patch said. He’d told Sam that he was going back along the passage, to get used
to walking on the marsh moss. He’d been walking along slowly, when he heard
Perdita’s squeals for help. Seeing Patch in the half light, Perdita could hardly
believe her eyes! “Patch, oh Patch!” She sobbed, relieved to see someone she
knew, even if they’d never really met. Patch nuzzled her ear, that felt
wonderful! He said: “The trick with this stuff is to lift each hoof slowly, then
you can walk slowly along the passage.” He demonstrated, slowly picking each
foot up in turn, and placing it down. “Now, if I try to pull my foot up quickly,
I can’t, watch,” Patch suddenly began struggling frantically to pull his right
hind foot out of the marsh moss, writhing and twisting in his attempts to get
his foot free! After thirty seconds, she saw a look in patch’s eyes, that told
her that quite frankly, if he could free one hoof any hoof would do! Perdita
watched, and thought that she had nearly been in that state. Patch switched off
the antics. “So, nice and gently does it,” he said, blowing a bead of sweat off
his nose. The two friends walked along slowly. They had time to talk, and
Perdita told Patch all about herself, from her foalhood, up to the fire and
Snowdrop taking her and her family in. Patch liked Perdita. When he heard that
Perdita knew and liked Silver, her stock with him increased immeasurably. They’d
made it to the bends, and Patch went first, Perdita hanging onto his tail for
dear life as she followed. Patch thought he would play a game with his new found
friend. As they walked along, Patch suddenly slipped! Squealing with fear, the
colt scrabbled with his hooves for a foothold. Patch crashed onto the floor and
lay there motionless!! Perdita touched his ears and muzzle. He was warm, but he
would be. After five minutes, Perdita thought him dead. She was alone, and Patch
was lying there! Perdita shook uncontrollably! She began to scream his name over
and over again! “Patch! Patch! Patch!” She suddenly saw him staring up at her in
horror! Tears began to run down Patch’s nose as he realised what his little
prank had done to her. Getting to his feet, Patch hugged Perdita, apologising
profusely to her through tears of heart felt remorse. Perdita stroked Patch all
over, as she’d seen Sam do to Silver, to calm him,, but also to make sure he was
really all right. This calmed Patch, he lifted a hoof and she touched that also.
Patch then explored her ears and muzzle in the darkness. The feel of his muzzle
gently exploring was very good. Her mother never touched her, not at all!
Perdita wanted to have physical contact, and Sam was the only horse who had ever
readily given her that. Now maybe, Patch would also. Once they had both
satisfied themselves that the other wasn’t going to drop dead, they continued
their journey. Patch helped Perdita up the slope, and they both banged on the
door to be let in. Sam let them both in, asking Patch where he’d found Perdita.
“I’ll tell you, but not yet,” the foal replied, “Perdita needs to rest, I found
her in a terrible state!” Perdita did sound tired, and had flopped down beside
Patch on the floor. They both fell asleep, but not before Patch had promised Sam
he and Perdita would tell of their adventure once they’d slept. Perdita and
Patch lay with their muzzles touching. “They look so sweet,” Silver remarked.
Patch and Perdita woke in the chamber. When they were fully awake, they
told Sam and Silver about their time in the passage. “That marsh moss doesn’t
like any sudden movement,” Sam said. “Patch showed me,” Perdita replied. She
hugged Patch tightly.
Emma got up and stretched, Jasper did likewise, and Emma said that they’d
better be going. Sam led them from the chamber to the passage with the marsh
moss flooring. Emma and Jasper negotiated the moss and left the passage. They
met Millie, who was standing looking into the passage. “I noticed you two were
lifting your feet slowly,” she said, “is there any reason for this?” Jasper,
thinking of what Patch had said about Millie, said: “No, My mum just wanted to
take a look at my hooves.” “That’s right,” Emma said, “Jasper, now we are in the
light, I will take a closer look at your hooves, which one was it that hurt?”
“Both my hind feet,” Jasper replied. He stood on his toes, as if putting his
whole weight on his hind feet hurt him. Staggering forward, He left Millie. Emma
followed, and when they were fully out in the open, but still in sight of
Millie, Emma said: “can you bear to take your weight on three legs?” Jasper
grimaced, but said he could. Groaning with pain, he lifted his left hind foot
for his mum to look at. Jasper cried out as she touched his hoof. “It’s nearly
over now,” Emma said gently, “there’s a stone in it.” Emma worried at the
imaginary stone for a bit, Jasper apparently fighting against the urge to pull
his hoof away. Then Emma found the stone and removed it.” “Now for the other
hoof,” she said. Millie had seen enough, and, keen to see her foal again, went
into the passage. Her hooves sank into the marsh moss. Realising the trick
Jasper had played on her, and that she was now trapped, Millie squealed
obscenities into the darkness. She fought to free her hooves, but couldn’t do
so. Millie came to the realisation she was trapped!
Sam heard Millie’s cries for help. “What’s the matter Millie?” Sam asked
kindly. “They tricked me, they tricked me!” She cried hysterically. “Come with
me!” Sam helped her along the passages until they reached the chamber.
Sam opened the door into his home. Millie walked through, Sam following,
closing the door behind him. Millie became angry when she saw Patch, Perdita and
Silver. “What are you doing here Patch!” She screamed. Sam shook his head as if
her screams hurt his ears. “Millie, I would be grateful if you didn’t shout,” he
said, “Patch can hear you well.” Millie demanded: “Has anyone been through that
passage of hell?” Every horse knew she was talking about the marsh moss. “Yes we
did,” Patch replied. “How did you manage to get through it, this stuff held on
tight to my hooves!” “Slowly,” Perdita said, remembering what Patch had told
her. “Well it’s horrible!” Millie wailed. “It’s security,” Patch replied,
repeating what Sam had said to Perdita. “Security against what?” Millie asked.
Silver replied: “Security against whom I think you mean Millie. Security against
those horses who are spiteful and might attack those who protect defenceless
foals,” she said. Millie squealed as if she’d been clobbered with a huge hoof.
She knew what Silver was saying, and it hurt her deeply. “I would never harm my
own foal!” She squealed. “Maybe not,” Sam said, “but you would harm those who
defend that foal’s right to make his own decisions, wouldn’t you Millie?” Millie
glared at Sam. “I don’t like you! She screamed. “Not everyone likes me,” Sam
said, “but I can live with that.” Millie yelled: “My foal has befriended you
though Sam, he has touched your fur, ears and hooves, and so has Perdita! Why
should they trust you! A horse, who cannot fend for himself!” Sam sighed
heavily, as if he had the whole world on his shoulders. “I can fend for myself
Millie,” he said, “I own this place, I have food here. As for Perdita, Patch and
Silver touching my fur and hooves, and them allowing me to touch theirs, well,
isn’t that a sign of trust and friendship? I have been told by many other
horses, as well as you, that one horse touching another is not done! Why not? I
couldn’t get by without touching another horse. Silver, Perdita, Snowdrop and
Patch, along with many others have realised that, and let me touch them. In
turn, I let them touch me. I need that contact, so do many others.” Perdita
realised he was talking about her. Jinni, Perdita’s mother had been good to her,
but hadn’t touched her at all unless it was absolutely necessary. Now she was
able to be hugged by three other horses if she wished. At that moment Patch,
seeming to read her thoughts, went up to her and hugged her. Perdita buried her
face in the colt’s mane, inhaling his cent. Millie watched with growing anger as
Patch nuzzled Perdita’s ear. “I can’t believe this!” Millie screamed. “Let
another horse hug and stroke you Millie, then you might.” Silver said. Sam went
up to Millie. She showed him a raised hind foot. Sensing this, Sam asked calmly:
“You wouldn’t really do it would you Millie?” Millie held her hoof off the
ground for a few seconds, then lowered it, realising that she wouldn’t kick Sam.
She felt the gelding sidling up to her. “What are you going to do to me!” Millie
shrieked. “Just touch your muzzle, that’s all,” Sam said, and did just that.
Millie stood, Sam’s warm muzzle rubbing her’s. Millie suddenly felt very cold,
as if the only way to get warm was to hug this gelding! “What’s happening to
me!” Millie screeched, “I’m freezing cold!” “That is the temperature of your
soul Millie,” Silver said, “You will have to make an effort to change your
ways.” Millie found herself cuddling up to Sam, fighting to get warmth, to get
away from the icy feeling she had. Millie felt Sam’s soft coat against her face.
It was like a warm blanket to her. She reasoned that this must be what Patch
felt when he hugged Perdita, and what Sam felt when he hugged Silver. How could
she have missed all this! Soon the moment was over, and Sam was lying beside
Silver, the filly hugging and stroking him. “I love you very much Sam,” she
whispered. She nuzzled and licked his ear. Sam relaxed into warm peaceful rest.
While Silver was with him, nothing else mattered. Sam cuddled up to her, working
closer to her, until his muzzle was buried in her mane. “I love you very much
too Silver,” Sam replied softly. Silver closed her eyes, enjoying this wonderful
experience.
Millie looked at Silver and Sam lying on the soft flooring, she then
turned her attention to Perdita and Patch. She wondered why she hated Patch
associating with other horses. He looked so peaceful lying asleep cuddled up
close to Perdita. Millie looked Patch all over, from his head, all black fur,
apart from his muzzle which was white, to his ears, all black, to his neck and
body, black also. Then his legs, all black fur, and finally his tiny hooves,
black too. Millie reached out with her muzzle and touched Patch’s. Then she
touched his ear, and his tiny right forefoot. She loved her foal so much, but
she didn’t know how to express it. Apparently the way she was doing it was
wrong, restricting his movement was not the way. According to Sam, Silver and
Perdita, within reasonable limits, she should let Patch do what he wanted. These
horses were good horses, Millie could see that. Sam seemed a lovely horse, he
hadn’t mistreated Patch as she’d feared he would. Silver loved Sam dearly,
Millie could see that in the way she expressed herself towards him. Sam loved
her too, this was plain also. As for Patch and Perdita, Millie didn’t know. It
was very true that Patch had helped Perdita out of the marsh moss, and that they
had talked quite a bit. They seemed to like each other a great deal. Millie
reached down and nuzzled Patch’s neck. She desperately wanted to be accepted by
these horses, so secure in their mutual friendship. Millie lay down to think
about her life. (
Millie thought back to her foal hood, it wasn’t something she enjoyed
doing. The memories were far too painful but as she watched the other horses
sleeping she dragged her past into the forefront of her mind. It hurt her so
much, the rejection, the love she so much wanted but never received. It was all
so unfair!
Millie thought back to her own mother and how she’d been treated by her.
Millie remembered her mother saying to another horse, when she thought she was
out of Millie’s hearing, that one of the reasons why she hated her foal was
because of the long and difficult time she’d had giving birth to her. Millie now
knew this to be a stupid and horrible thing to say or even think. Patch’s birth
went smoothly: “ yes, it was painful,” Millie thought, “but I would never blame
him for that.” Millie knew deep down, that her mother had found her an
encumbrance. “She gave birth to me because she had no choice,” Millie thought
miserably, “and she looked after me because, if she didn’t, the whole herd would
have probably marked her out for life.” Millie looked over at Patch, but she
couldn’t see him! She felt a muzzle brushing hers, then the muzzle brushed her
ear. Looking round, she saw Patch lying beside her. “Are you all right mum?” He
asked. Millie felt anger rising in her. Of course she wasn’t all right, what a
stupid thing to ask! Then she calmed down, telling herself her past wasn’t
Patch’s fault. “There I go,” Millie thought, “blaming my foal as my mother
blamed me, for things that were out of my control.” She said: “Quite honestly
Patch dear, I have seen better times.” “What’s the matter?” he asked. Millie
suddenly hugged him to her, embracing him fiercely. “Patch,” Millie found it all
coming out in a rush that she couldn’t stop, “I have been so awful to you about
a lot of things,” Patch stared at his mum, unable to work out where this sudden
torrent of misery came from. Millie ploughed on: “I don’t know if you are old
enough yet to understand why I do what I do, but there is a reason, no excuse,
but a reason, or several reasons there are.” “I know you haven’t liked me going
with Sam and Silver,” Patch said. “No, I didn’t like that, but I know now that I
was wrong Patch,” Millie replied. She continued: “I watched you with Perdita,
Sam and Silver, I saw how you and they get on, and it was wonderful to see that.
They allowed you to express yourself in your own way, whereas I, well, attempted
to trample all that. I love you so much Patch, but I don’t know how to show you
properly.” “If keeping me away from those who’s company I enjoy is showing me
love,” Patch said, “then maybe you don’t know, or maybe you never learned the
right way, I don’t know.” He looked at her. “Mum,” Patch said, “you never hug
me, you hardly ever stroke my ears or muzzle. I need that mum! We all do! So
when Silver hugged me, Sam too, it was so wonderful! So warm, safe, comforting.
I know they’re not my parents, and never could be, but if you can’t get what you
so desperately need from one place, you will get it somehow from another. I am
lucky that Sam and Silver mean no ill will towards me when they hug me mum. They
have no other intentions than that of caring for me. Perdita was right when she
said to you that she would let Sam stroke her and touch her hooves. Most horses
hate having their hooves handled because it denies them means of escape. If a
horse lets another touch their raised hoof, it means that they really trust that
horse. For when you have one foot off the floor, you can’t run. I trust Sam,
Perdita and Silver with my life. I have let them stroke my ears and muzzle, and
touch my hooves. They have done me the same honour of trusting me by letting me
do the same to them. Mum, have you ever been nuzzled by another horse?” “No, not
in love, just in the conquest of me when a stallion wanted me for his own ends,”
Millie replied faintly. She remembered that nuzzling, hard, aggressive,
horrible! That wasn’t love at all. Millie’s mind strayed unbidden back to her
own mother, and the frequent kicks and nips she would get from that mare, who
she now hated. “I was never hugged, not like you mean,” Millie replied. Patch
then said something that showed understanding way beyond his three months. “Mum,
I love you, and that will never change. I know you’ve never been hugged by
another horse.” With that he embraced her tightly, nuzzling her ear and her
muzzle. Millie felt the foal’s warmth and gentle nuzzling, and wondered why
she’d never hugged him. It hit her finally how much they’d both been lacking.
Millie wept inconsolably for her lost opportunities, and also with happiness
that Patch still felt he could hug her, after all she’d done to him. Patch
didn’t attempt to stop his mum from crying, for he knew part of what she’d
missed, for he’d missed the same. “Go on,” Millie said, sniffing slightly,
“touch my hooves if you want,” With that, she got to her feet, and lifted each
hoof, letting her foal examine them. Once Patch had touched all four of Millie’s
hooves, something he’d never done before, and Millie had never had done before,
Millie asked Patch if he would trust her enough to let her do the same. Patch
smiled, it was time for a game. “You’ll have to fight me for my hooves!” he
whinnied. Patch lay down, tucking his feet beneath him. Millie knew she’d have
to overbalance him. She knew Patch had missed playing with her also. She pushed
feebly at his shoulder with her muzzle. “Is that all you can do?” Patch teased,
“Go on!” he urged, “get hold of a hoof before you lose the game!” He flashed a
forefoot at her. Then she tried to get hold of a hind foot. Squealing with mock
surprise and fear, Patch whipped it away, rolling away from her. Millie ran
after him, and Managed to touch a forefoot before Patch could react. “You’ve got
one,” the foal said, “now try and get the other three!” after a while, Millie
realised, she was playing a kind of rough and tumble game with Patch, like all
foals and mother’s did at one time during their time together. Eventually Millie
touched two more of Patch’s hooves, but his left hind still eluded her. Patch
lay, the prized hoof within Millie’s range. She tried creeping up on him, while
Patch had his head turned away. She stretched out her muzzle to touch his hoof,
she nearly managed it, when he tore his foot away and cantered round the room
victorious! How had he known where she was! Millie knew how much horses could
see around them, for she could see, but how did Patch know where she was, and
how close she was? Soon however, Millie pinned Patch’s left hind hoof. Obviously
exhausted, the colt lay on the soft flooring, with his left hind hoof extended
towards his mother. Millie went up and touched that hoof, completing her
objective. “That’s nice to see,” Silver said, “a mother and foal playing
together.” Neither Millie, nor Patch had noticed that Silver, Sam and Perdita
were still in the chamber. Their game was all important to them. Patch’s eyes
shone with delight. He’d enjoyed the challenge of the game. Millie was exhausted
from trying to outwit her cunning offspring. Now though, she felt lighter, as if
a huge weight had been lifted from her. Patch loved her, and she loved him, and
Millie realised that Patch meeting with Sam, Silver and Perdita, had taught her
a lot.
Millie hugged Patch tightly. “Who won that game?” she asked. “If You
hadn’t managed to touch all four of my hooves,” Patch replied, “then I would
have won, but you managed to!” Millie smiled. “My turn to run next,” she said.
“What? Now?” Patch asked hopefully. “In a minute, but if you want to touch my
hooves, you can, I don’t mind,” Millie replied. Patch smiled and thumped her
shoulder with his muzzle. Millie sighed with contentment. She’d never felt so
happy before. Millie tucked her forefeet under her body, lying as Patch had.
Seeing this, Patch’s smile grew wider, his mum was ready for a game! Patch
reached out his muzzle and managed to touch Millie’s left hind foot. Millie
squealed like a foal: “Leave my hoof alone!” Jerking her hoof away, Millie
rolled desperately! trying for all she was worth to get away from Patch! The
foal chased her, and Managed to touch her right hind foot. Millie struggled onto
her forefeet, trying to drag herself away. Dragging her hind feet as if they
were now useless, Millie tried to get away as fast as she could! Patch now knew
he had to get the other two hooves. Millie staggered round, trying desperately
to keep out of Patch’s range on two legs. Millie suddenly tripped, landing on
her side. Patch saw his chance and pinned the two remaining hooves, while Millie
squealed shrilly, imploring him to take Pity on her. Patch hugged his mother
tightly. “Game over,” he said. Millie stopped squealing and smiled at him. “I
love you Patch,” she said.
Two exhausted but happy horses cuddled up together and fell into a
contented sleep.
Silver, Sam and Perdita lay thinking about Patch and Millie. Silver
described to Sam the game Patch and his mother had played. “Sounds fun,” Sam
replied. “I’ve never seen a mare and foal having so much fun before,” Perdita
said. “Millie let Patch win that last one,” Silver observed. “I don’t know,”
Perdita replied, “She did put up a good fight.” Millie and Patch woke soon
after. Discussing what to do next, all the horses decided they wanted to go into
the outside world again. Sam led them through the tunnels to the large outer
chamber, through that, and into the tunnel where one horse at a time had to
crawl through to the outside world. Millie went first, Patch following her, with
Silver, Perdita and finally Sam bringing up the rear. They met Jasper and Emma
standing together eating grass. Patch, full of foalish enthusiasm, eagerly told
Jasper about the game he and his mother had played. Jasper, being quite a bit
older than Patch, and not really liking the Falabella breed, was quite rude to
him. Turning, the Shire stallion walked away without saying anything. Emma
chased him and reprimanded him for his attitude. “But Patch is a foal! I’m no
foal!” Jasper whinnied. “Patch only wants to share his game with you, you don’t
have to like it Jasper, just think about how you were when you were a foal. I
remember you liked those kind of games, but you tried playing with horses who
didn’t wish to play. Patch loves to play those games.” Jasper remembered asking
Snowdrop if he could look at her hooves. Snowdrop had agreed, and shown him all
four of them. Then he remembered Sheissain, and how, he, Jasper, had terrorised
the stallion to the brink of madness by touching his hooves. Jasper looked at
Patch, sizing the foal up for a game. Could he outwit the little chap? Or was
Patch going to be too fast for him. Approaching the tiny foal, Jasper apologised
for his rudeness and asked Patch if he’d like to play the same game he had with
his mother, but against a larger horse. Patch, realising what the huge Shire
stallion meant, looked nervously at his huge hooves. “I am meant to touch
those?” he asked, waving a tiny forefoot at Jasper’s massive hooves. “If you
like,” Jasper replied. Patch smiled. “Ok,” he said. With that Jasper lay down
and the game began. Patch was remarkably quick, pinning Jasper’s right fore and
hind feet in the first five minutes. Knowing he was losing, Jasper crawled away,
trying to keep his left side away from the foal. Patch circled round and pinned
the shire horse’s left hind foot. Jasper knew the game was up, Patch was too
quick! How was he, Jasper, ever going to attempt revenge on this foal? For one,
Patch had a larger hoof to aim at, and for two, Patch’s hooves were tiny, and
Jasper’s aim was terrible! The two horses looked into each other’s eyes. “You
win,” Jasper said, offering his left forefoot to complete the rout. Patch
touched it, and Jasper wondered how on earth he was to even the score. It was
impossible!
“I don’t know what happened in Sam’s home,” Snowdrop confided to Pip one
late autumn afternoon. “But I just can’t believe how much Millie has changed
over these last weeks.” “And Patch and Jasper seem to be getting along very
well.” “I think you giving her some responsibility in the herd has helped” Pip
said.
One day Snowdrop found Millie and Patch playing their game. Millie was
chasing Patch, and as Snowdrop watched, Millie managed to touch Patch’s right
hind foot. Snowdrop realised Millie’s attitude to her foal had changed. No
longer did she bully her foal into going her way, now she was playing his, now
their game. Patch squealed with mock anger as Millie touched his left forefoot.
Snowdrop remembered playing the same game with Whitehoof when he was young. She
was never very good at getting hold of all four of his hooves, whereas he
managed to touch her’s in record time, or so it seemed. Snowdrop broke cover
from beneath the bush, and approached the two horses. “Good game is it?”
Snowdrop asked. Millie made a grab for Patch’s right hind hoof, Patch fended his
mother off by rolling away, denying Millie his hoof. “I can’t talk,” he gasped,
“I’m being chased, this mare wants my hooves!” Snowdrop smiled at his enthusiasm
for the game. Eventually, Millie managed to touch all four of Patch’s hooves.
Once the game was over, Patch and his mother lay together, resting a while
before maybe having another game. Snowdrop lay down beside Patch. “I used to
play that game with Whitehoof when he was young,” she said. Patch looked at her,
his eyes shining with enjoyment. “Did you?” He asked, making a grab for
Snowdrop’s right forefoot. Squealing, Snowdrop rolled away desperately, but not
before the foal had claimed that hoof. Soon the game was in full swing, but this
time Patch was playing with the herd leader. Millie remonstrated with her foal,
telling him that this was not done! You did not go after the herd leader’s
hooves without asking first! Snowdrop, on the other hoof, hadn’t had so
much fun in ages! She rolled and crawled her way across the clearing, knowing
that standing and running was cheating. Patch went after his goal, all four of
Snowdrop’s white hooves! Soon he had all but her left hind. Snowdrop crawled
along, trying to keep the prized hoof out of the foal’s grasp. In the end, he
overbalanced her and claimed that hoof also. Snowdrop was exhausted. She’d not
played such an energetic game in years! A voice asked: “Mum, what are you
doing?” Snowdrop looked up from where she was lying, straight into Whitehoof’s
eyes.
Snowdrop got up. She felt relaxed, all the tension of the day had been
released in her play with Patch. “Aren’t you a bit old for those kind of games
mum?” Whitehoof went on. “Of course not.” His mother smiled at him.” After all, I
need some fun, I work hard with the heard so it’s done me the world of good to
Chill for a while and Patch enjoyed it. “I love you mum.” Whitehoof hugged
Snowdrop. She returned the hug and held him tightly to her .
Pip watched the goings on from a short distance. She’d seen Patch’s game,
and wanted to know how it was played so she could introduce the newborn foals to
it, after all, it seemed harmless enough. She decided to ask Patch about it.
Going up to him, she asked: “Patch, how is that game played?” Patch smiled, he
couldn’t believe his luck! First his mum, then the herd leader wanted to play,
and now Pip! This was wonderful news! Would Whitehoof play too? Patch replied:
“First, you have to decide who’s going to run,” he said, “the best way to learn
is to play,” Patch added. Pip realised what the foal was doing and grinned at
him. “Right,” she said, “you show me, but remember, I’m not as good as you,” she
adopted a pleading tone, “so, please, give me a chance,.” Patch’s smile
increased, this was wonderful news! “As I said,” he continued: “the horse who
runs has to lie down first, before the game can begin. It is best that they lie
with their forefeet tucked beneath them.” “Why,” Pip asked, although she thought
she already knew. “The object is to touch all four of that horse’s hooves!”
Patch whinnied, “tucking your forefeet beneath you makes that job more
difficult.” “Oh right,” Pip replied, “then what?” She asked. “Well,” Patch
replied, “you then have to crawl, don’t get up and run, because that’s cheating!
The horse chasing you has to have a fair chance of getting hold of your hooves.”
“So I crawl or roll, trying to get away?” Pip asked eagerly, as if she couldn’t
wait to play. In fact this was true. “Yes,” Patch said. “How do I get hold of a
hoof?” Pip asked, “do I actually have to hold onto it, or do I just touch it.”
“Touch it with your muzzle, not your hoof,” Patch replied, “another thing,”
Patch said, “the horse being chased cannot lash out.” Pip thought this sensible.
“Right,” she said, “Now take me through this, slowly.” Patch lay down, inviting
Pip to chase him. She did so, and Patch let her have one hoof. “You touched my
right hind foot with your muzzle, now that’s one to you,” the foal said,
“Another thing,” he said, “If you touch the same hoof twice, you lose that hoof,
so you have to touch it a third time to regain it, right?” Pip smiled, and made
a grab for Patch’s right forefoot. She managed to claim that hoof. “That’s it!”
Patch whinnied. He then crawled away, Pip stalking him. She Managed to touch his
left hind foot while he was in mid crawl. Squealing with mock fear that he was
about to lose, Patch rolled and crawled faster, trying to put as much distance
between himself and the mare who wanted his hooves! Pip chased him and managed
to pin the one remaining hoof. Patch smiled up at her. “You win, he said, “now my
turn to chase you!” With that he touched Pip’s right hind foot, the mare
squealing with surprise at his speed.
Pip crawled away from Patch, the foal chasing her as if his life depended
on it. Pip suddenly rolled onto her side, extending her left hind foot towards
Patch, inviting him to touch it. Patch reached with his muzzle to touch the
offered hoof, but at the last moment, Pip whipped her hoof away, rolling
desperately! Patch launched himself after the grey Falabella mare, determined to
get hold of her hooves! He got hold of her right forefoot, Pip squealing: “Leave
my hooves alone!” as he did so: She tried to push him away with the hoof he’d
just touched, in the hope he’d touch it again and lose that hoof. Patch pressed
his left forefoot against Pip’s right, knowing that if he didn’t touch it with
his muzzle he was safe. The two horses locked hooves, Patch trying to get close
enough to Pip to score a hit on her exposed left forefoot, and Pip fighting for
all she was worth to make sure he didn’t get that hit. Patch waited until Pip
made another desperate effort to straighten her foreleg to push patch away, when
Patch judged she was trying hardest, he suddenly released the pressure on her
hoof, and lunged at her left forefoot, touching it with his muzzle. Pip whinnied
shrilly: “He’s got three of my hooves!” Patch backed away, trying to get behind
the mare to score a hit on her left hind hoof. Pip’s eyes were shining with
delight. She’d never played such a demanding game before, and she was enjoying
the challenge hugely! Patch watched Pip’s left hind hoof intently. He wanted
that hoof, and she knew it. Pip didn’t know how she was going to outwit this
foal, he was fast, too fast for her! Pip suddenly waved her hind feet at Patch,
then crossed her legs, creating confusion. In his haste to get hold of a hoof,
Patch didn’t register that Pip had crossed her legs, so her hooves were now
opposite to normal. He lunged at what he thought was her left hind, only to find
it to be her right, the hoof he’d already claimed. Snowdrop saw this and
whinnied excitedly: “She’s back in the game, Patch made a mistake! Well done
Pip!” Patch recoiled, angry at himself for falling for such a trick. Pip
unlocked her legs, and lost no time in getting away, Patch floundering after
her. In the end, Patch had to concede defeat. He was worn out, and, due to Pip’s
quick thinking, and his own mistakes, he’d lost. “Game over,” he panted. Pip
smiled at him. “Great game that,” she replied, catching her breath. Snowdrop was
impressed by Pip’s ingenuity. Whitehoof wasn’t so impressed. He couldn’t work
out what his mate saw in playing such a game with Patch. He thought it was a
stupid game, trying to touch all four hooves on a horse. He decided he’d talk to
Pip about this. He had to stop her making a total fool of herself! Whitehoof
looked at Pip and said: “Pip, I want to talk to you, now!” The mare got up,
Patch did likewise. The mare and foal faced each other briefly. “Thanks Pip,”
Patch said. Pip hugged him tightly. “I enjoyed that,” she whispered.
Pip and Whitehoof walked away to talk, while Patch and Snowdrop stayed
together. Whitehoof turned to Pip when they were out of sight of Snowdrop and
Patch and asked: “What on earth were you playing at?” “Patch’s game,” Pip
replied, “It’s a great game Whitehoof!” Whitehoof replied: “That foal touched
your hooves Pip, and you touched his! What fun is there in that?” “Didn’t you
listen to Patch explaining the rules to me?” Pip asked. “Well, sort of,”
Whitehoof replied, although he couldn’t remember any of them. “I could teach you
the game if you like,” Pip said. “No,” Whitehoof replied, “I don’t think so
Pip.” He looked at her. Whitehoof loved Pip dearly, but she could be a real foal
sometimes, and that angered him. “I don’t know why I find that game so strange,”
Whitehoof conceded, “I used to play it, I know that. I suppose games are
revived, and Patch wanted a game that would give him physical contact with
another horse. The game you, mum and Patch play is such a game. It’s a good job
Sheissain wasn’t asked to play,” Whitehoof concluded, “he can’t stand anyone
touching his hooves.” Pip looked back down the track to the place where they’d
left Snowdrop and Patch. “That game Whitehoof,” Pip said, “It’s a wonderful game
to play. Any horse can play it, even Sam could. It would just be in one place
with him, not crawling about. He would have to get three touches on one hoof, or
something like that, before he won that hoof.” Whitehoof looked at his mate. “Go
back to your game,” he said, “I can see you like playing it, and the foals are
your responsibility.” Pip went back to Patch and Snowdrop. “Snowdrop,” Pip
asked, “would you like a go at that game?” For answer, Snowdrop lay with her
forefeet tucked beneath her. with pricked ears, she looked at Pip. “Come and get
my hooves if you want ‘em,!” the white mare said.
After the game was over Snowdrop and Pip lay together under a bush. “Can I
ask you something, Snowy?” Pip asked. “You know you can,” was Snowdrop’s reply.
“What is troubling you Pip dear?” Pip cuddled up to Snowdrop, she loved and
trusted this mare so very much. “Why is Whitehoof always so serious about
everything? I love him so much but sometimes I just wish he would lighten up a
bit!”
“Whitehoof feels that he’s always got something to prove,” Snowdrop
replied, “he can’t let his mane down like you or I can.” “But he basically told
me I was a foal!” Pip wailed. “He doesn’t really agree with the game we played
with patch, that’s for certain,” Snowdrop replied. “But why not?” Pip asked,
“That game breeds trust among horses, it gets foals used to having their hooves
handled. It sometimes shows those horses what a hoof is! For some mothers won’t
show their foals their hooves! I never saw a horse’s hoof, all right I saw my
own, but I can’t really look closely at my own hooves Snowy! Whitehoof was the
first to show me a hoof, his white one. I think you know that if a horse
voluntarily shows you it’s hoof, it trusts you don’t you?” Snowdrop nodded.
“That’s true,” she said. “Patch taught me that,” Pip said, “He told me that if a
horse willingly gives you it’s hoof, then it trusts you because with three
hooves, it can’t run.” Snowdrop smiled: “that’s also true,” she said. “I want to
play this game,” Pip said, “I want to let the foals touch my hooves! Whitehoof
doesn’t see that, well, that, by letting the foals touch my hooves, I am letting
them know I trust them, and that they in turn, can trust me!” Pip whinnied
pitifully. “Whitehoof wasn’t very quick to trust, even when he’d known a horse
for years,” Snowdrop said. Pip looked into Snowdrop’s face. “Snowdrop,” she
said, “would, would you let me take a look at your hooves? Will you trust me?”
Pip asked. Snowdrop knew this wasn’t a game. She stood up, and waited for Pip to
say something. “What Now?” Pip asked, unsure of what to do next. “Let me know
what hoof you want to look at first,” Snowdrop said gently. As if in a dream,
Pip replied: “Right hind, please,” Snowdrop lifted her right hind hoof clear of
the ground and let Pip examine it. “Touch it,” Snowdrop invited, “I won’t harm
you, because Pip, I trust you.” Pip touched Snowdrop’s hoof. By degrees, she
touched all of the white mare’s hooves. Snowdrop noticed Whitehoof standing a
little way off, watching with ill disguised anger. Snowdrop then asked Pip if
she would let her touch her hooves. Pip consented, and, one hoof at a time,
Snowdrop examined the grey Falabella mares hooves. Pip stood, lifting each hoof
as Snowdrop asked. When it was all over, Pip knew the bond of trust was sealed.
Whitehoof was furious! What on earth were these two mares up to!
“What on earth are you doing!” Whitehoof demanded. “You were
here,” Snowdrop said, “didn’t you listen to what Pip was saying about the bond
between horses?” Whitehoof snapped: “Oh yes yes yes, all that, and a whole lot
more rubbish! All this touching of hooves, what is the meaning of it? Why touch
another horse’s hoof?” Snowdrop went to Whitehoof and hugged him. She rubbed his
ear with her muzzle. “Whitehoof,” she said gently, “if a horse who is standing,
gives another horse a hoof to examine, he or she cannot run if they are on three
legs. That is why if I gave you my hoof,” she lifted a forefoot, “I trust you.
Go on, touch it, examine it. Then, take a look at the other three.” Whitehoof
stared at his mother’s outstretched hoof. “I, I suppose you’re right,” he said,
wondering what the game had to do with all this. “What about this game?” he
asked, “what has that to do with all this trust thing.” Pip replied: “the game
gets foals used to having their hooves touched. It also shows a foal what a hoof
looks like. For no horse, not even you Whitehoof, can look at their own hooves.
To see a hoof properly, another horse has to show you theirs.” Whitehoof
couldn’t deny the logic of this. “So the game isn’t just touching hooves,” he
said, “There’s more to it?” Pip smiled: “Yes,” she said. She quickly outlined
the rules. Whitehoof realised that the game his mate and Patch had played was
more involved than it looked. It taught respect for rules, as well as strategy
and planning. “If a horse refuses to show you it’s hoof,” Whitehoof said, “does
that mean it doesn’t trust you?” “Not necessarily,” Snowdrop replied, “the hoof
might be damaged, and the horse might be protective of it, but they’ll probably
let you know that.” Whitehoof looked again at Snowdrop’s raised forefoot. He
then touched it with his muzzle. “Want to join me in a game Whitehoof?” Snowdrop
asked.
Whitehoof agreed somewhat reluctantly to join in the game and he was
surprised that he actually enjoyed it!! Afterwards he and Pip settled down under
a bush. “I love you so much Whitehoof, even though you drive me mad sometimes, I
guess that is why I love you!” Pip smiled and held him close. He knew this and
satisfied that he had pleased her he fell asleep, Secure in the knowledge that
his loved one was beside him.
Whitehoof drifted in a dream. He dreamt that he and Pip were playing
Patch’s game. He was running, and she was trying to touch his hooves. She got
three of them, and was about to get a fourth and complete her task when he woke
in the early morning. He looked at Pip lying beside him and remembered the game
they’d played. She’d said he could touch her hooves, and he had done so.
Whitehoof felt she trusted him at last. He had also let her touch his hooves,
nothing new in that, he’d let her touch them before, and quite enjoyed it when
she did, but this time, it was more exciting, she had to win every hoof.
Whitehoof put out his muzzle and stroked Pip’s ear and muzzle. He then touched
her forefoot. He knew she loved him, and he loved her dearly. He knew also that
his conservative attitude sometimes grated with her. Whitehoof thought back to
the game they’d played. A foalish game that was a lot more than just touching
hooves, but a pleasant one all the same. Non aggressive, harmless fun. “I
remember playing that game when I was young,” he thought. Whitehoof smiled, “my
white foot was the prize every horse went for first. Yes,” Whitehoof thought to
himself, “those times were good, before, before I was thrown out, and knew a lot
about pain and little else until I met Pip. Then, well, things had got better,
slowly. Now, Pip’s there, and my mum returned to me, and now, to top it all off,
I end up playing silly hoof touching games with other grown horses! Ah well,
that’s life.” He noticed Pip was looking at him. “For the last five minutes,”
she said, “you’ve had a huge smile on your face Whitehoof.” “Yes Pip,” Whitehoof
replied, “I’m just thinking over my life, and how good it is now. What you say
about trust is true. I must learn to trust other horses. Not all the time, but
when I know them well. That game certainly teaches trust, for touching a hoof
with your muzzle is dangerous. If the horse who’s hoof you are touching should
lash out, then, well.” “Indeed,” Pip replied, “that is trust indeed. I wonder if
Patch is teaching all the other horses.” Whitehoof had a hilarious vision of
Emma and Poppy playing the game. “yes,” he said, “that would be great if he taught them all.”
Whitehoof and Pip crawled out from beneath their bush and walked, muzzles
touching, down the track. They watched the dawn coming in through the trees.
“The forest is so beautiful at this time of day,” Pip said softly. Brock came
along the track. Seeing Whitehoof and Pip, he increased his pace to a lumbering
trot and came to stop beside them. “Me see little Patch and Silver playing hoof
touching game!” he said. Pip smiled. “Whitehoof and I played that game not too
long ago,” she said. Brock grunted: “Me think that game spreading all over herd,
me even see Emma and Poppy playing game!” Pip couldn’t help smiling at the
thought of the two huge mares playing together. “How that game come about then?”
Brock asked. “Patch invented it,” Whitehoof replied, although he remembered
playing it long before Patch had. “right,” Brock said, walking away. Pip and
Whitehoof continued their journey, finding Sam and Silver lying beneath a bush.
Pip saw they were asleep. Pip and Whitehoof crept past, when suddenly Sam’s
muzzle shot out and pinned Pip’s right forefoot! Shrieking with fright, Pip
looked down into the gelding’s eyes. Sam smiled up at her. “Sorry,” he said.
Pip’s legs collapsed under her. Sam hugged her tightly. “I didn’t mean to scare
you,” he said. Pip shook violently. “Don’t ever do that again!” she whinnied.
“Sorry,” Sam said. Silver woke then, saw Pip, and moved to comfort her. “Sam’s
only playing games,” she said gently. Pip, much calmer now, smiled weakly. “All
right,” she said. She looked down at Sam’s hooves, and touched his right
forefoot with her muzzle. Sam knew this was the beginning of a game, and soon
all four horses were going after each other’s hooves! “It is a one on one game!
not a free for all!” Silver whinnied excitedly, claiming Sam’s right hind hoof.
Pip leapt upon Whitehoof’s white foot. “got it!” she whinnied. Whitehoof claimed
her left forefoot, while Sam found Silver’s left hind hoof. “Give me that hoof!”
Sam whinnied, touching her hoof. Squealing, Silver rolled away. The four horses
paused in their game. Sam, panting hard for air, lay on his back to recover.
“That was silly, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said.
Patch's game was the talk of the herd. Everyone loved it and playing it
kept them warm during the cold winter days which followed.
Sam, Silver, Snowdrop and Patch stood talking under a tree.
“How about if we have a contest, playing the game?” Sam asked. Snowdrop, Silver and Patch agreed. Patch said:
“For the present, as there are four horses, how about if me and Silver play, and
you and Snowdrop play Sam. Then, the winners of each game play each other.” This
sounded fun, so they went back into the wood in search of a clearing. Finding
one, the four horses squared up.
Sam and Snowdrop squared up. Because Sam couldn’t see to run after
Snowdrop, they both lay with their muzzles touching so Sam knew where Snowdrop
was. Snowdrop knew she would have to keep in constant contact with Sam as they
played. Because of this, Sam had to touch the same hoof twice before he claimed
it. A third touch would lose him the hoof, and he’d have to start on that hoof
all over again. Snowdrop let Sam explore her, so he knew roughly how large she
was, and also how much hoof he had to aim at. The game began. Snowdrop managed
to keep her hooves out of Sam’s range for all of five seconds before he’d
claimed her right hind foot. Snowdrop had made a huge error, so intent was she
on keeping her forefeet out of the gelding’s way that she forgot about her hind,
allowing him to claim a hoof before she realised what was happening. Sam wasn’t
free from mistakes himself, he lost Snowdrop’s right hind hoof, touching it for
a third time. In the end, Sam won. Snowdrop hadn’t banked on Sam’s fearless
attitude to getting kicked, and had lost because of it. Snowdrop had been too
concerned with making sure he wasn’t hit by a flying hoof, whereas Sam was used
to knocks. All four of her tiny hooves claimed for the opposition, Snowdrop lay
exhausted. Sam, victorious, knew he would be playing Patch at this game, as
Silver had lost to the foal’s lightening manoeuvres. Sam and Patch squared up in
the same manner that he and Snowdrop had. This time neither Patch nor Sam gave
any leeway. Patch fought Sam as if his life depended on the chestnut gelding not
getting hold of any hoof. Sam managed to get hold of Patch’s right forefoot, the
colt shrieking with mock anger and total surprise that Sam had managed it! Then,
while Patch was recovering from the shock of that conquest, Sam claimed the
colt’s right hind hoof. Patch knew the game was up when Sam claimed his left
forefoot, then, moved swiftly to claim his left hind. Patch lay, wondering what
had happened. He’d never lost against anyone before, not like this! Patch hugged
Sam tightly. “Well played,” he said. Sam nuzzled the colt’s ear. “You put up a
good fight,” the gelding replied. Patch smiled at Sam, although the gelding
couldn’t see it. “Thanks for the game,” Patch said.
“You’re welcome!” Sam replied. The winter months passed by slowly. A few
of the older members of the herd perished in the bitter weather. Maynand drowned
in the river, his drinking habit had returned and it was because of him being
drunk that he was lost. Most of the younger horses kept warm by playing, Patch’s
game, as it became known.
Patch and Perdita grew up together. Although she was quite a bit older
than him, She’d never played the games a foal usually played. The fire had taken
that away from her, and matured her way beyond her years. Now though, because of
Patch, she could do what she wanted, and play games like the hoof touching game
with him, and not worry whether she was doing the right thing. One day, they
were playing at Patch’s game, when they were disturbed by a cry of terrible fear
and pain. Stopping their play, Perdita having touched Patch’s right hind hoof
and claimed it, they listened, there it was again! Patch, ignoring Perdita’s
entreaties to him to be careful, ran towards the sound. He crawled beneath a
bush, disappearing from Perdy’s view. He was out just as quick, his eyes wide
with fear! “There’s a mare in there, and, and, Perdita, she, she’s, she’s
foaling! Or so she says!” he yelled, “what are we gonna do?” Perdita replied
calmly, for she was calm about things now: “Don’t panic, for that’ll upset the
mare, and she doesn’t need that. Stay with her, comfort her, reassure her, ask
her what is happening, how many foals she’s had, how long she’s been in pain,
that sort of thing.” Patch stared at her! “I couldn’t, I don’t know what to do!
You know! Please Perdy dear, you do it!” the colt squealed. Another cry came
from the bushes and Patch knew he had to do something! He reasoned that just
talking to the mare might help, and Perdy had given him some questions to ask,
so he’d ask them. Crawling back under the bush, Patch faced the terrified
Falabella mare. “You’re back!” The mare squealed. Then she closed her eyes and
groaned Pitifully. “This is hard work!” she panted. Patch lay beside her,
totally lost for words. He had all Perdita’s questions in his mind, but he
couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He glanced behind him, seeing him do
this, the mare asked: “How far have I got to go?” “I don’t know!” Patch snapped,
fear rising in him again. The mare gave vent to a pain filled whinny and Patch
saw something then, it looked like half a horse! “I see half a horse!” he
yelled. The mare actually laughed slightly. “Thanks,” she said. Patch didn’t
know what good his information had been to the mare, but she seemed satisfied.
The mare rested for a while, the tortured expression leaving her eyes. “This is
my third foal,” she said, “and, and it’s always different, foaling I mean.”
“I’ve never seen it,” Patch replied. The mare smiled weakly and said: “You’re
seeing it now. Now the next bit will frighten you most likely. When things get
going I will be unable to talk to you, but could you keep talking to me, tell me
to get on with it, stop squealing and do my job, anything like that.” But I
couldn’t,” Patch said, wondering why she was asking this of him, “you haven’t
said a bad thing to me.” The mare smiled at him once more, but he could see in
her eyes something else was bothering her. “Is it going to get worse soon?” He
asked. “yes, yes it is,” the mare replied breathlessly. Then she closed her eyes
and bore down hard against her foal! Patch tried to do as the mare had asked,
tell her to get on with it, to stop squealing and do her job, but she squealed
that she was doing all she could, and that he was not helping matters. Patch was
confused and upset. “But she asked me to say those things!” he thought
miserably. Once the foal was born, and the mare was resting, Patch looked at her
again. His hurt expression registered with the mare. Patch said, his voice
almost cracking with emotion: “You said to me that I should tell you to get on
with it and stop squealing, but you told me after that you were doing all you
could and that I was, was, I don’t know, but they were awful words!” The mare
got to her feet because the foal was bashing the life out of her nose, demanding
a drink in a high pitched whinny. She looked at Patch. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I
did ask you to say those things, and I’m glad you did, honest I am! It was just
in the heat of foaling that I said those things. I’m sorry!” “that’s all right,”
Patch said, looking with wide eyes at the new born foal.
“What’s your name?” the Falabella mare asked. “Patch,” the colt replied,
“what’s yours?” “Cleo,” the mare replied. Cleo’s tiny foal was now lying beside
her. Patch excused himself, saying he’d better find his friend Perdita. He
escaped from the bush to find Perdita talking to Sam. Breathlessly Patch told
Sam about the mare and how he’d helped her foaling. Sam turned and walked
towards the bush. Pushing through it, he came face to face with the mare.
Recognising her cent instantly, Sam couldn’t believe it. “Cleo, or should I say
mum,” He said, “do you remember me?” Cleo stared at Sam, her first foal.
“How could I ever forget you Sam,” Cleo replied flatly. “And who is this
new little one, I mean what is her name?” Sam asked. “Willow! I don’t want her
Sam, I never wanted her!” Sam sensed the anger in his mother’s voice. Snowdrop
and Pip arrived to see the new foal. Patch and Perdita had told
them and Snowdrop made it her job to make her presence felt straight away as she
sensed danger.
Cleo crawled from under the bush. She was exhausted from foaling, but knew
she had to get away from the tiny scrap of life she’d brought into the world. On
shaky legs, the foal made to follow her. Squealing with anger, Cleo lashed out!
Cleo’s hoof smashed into the tiny filly’s foreleg, almost breaking it! Willow
squealed with pain and collapsed in a heap. Cleo ran, even though she was weak,
she ran! Once she was out of sight, Snowdrop went to take a look at Willow. ?The
filly looked up into Snowdrop’s eyes. “It’s cold,” Willow said. Snowdrop lay
down and hugged poor Willow to her. The filly, feeling Snowdrop’s warm fur,
cuddled as close as she could. “I can’t keep her,” Snowdrop thought, “I haven’t
got any milk to give her.” Snowdrop knew that, if she didn’t find a mare who had
milk to give within the next few hours, Willow would die. Snowdrop decided to
send Perdita looking for a mare who might be able to help. “Willow knows me,”
Snowdrop said, “so I’ll stay with her to keep her warm.” This sensible thinking
sent Perdita off in a better frame of mind than she would otherwise have been
in, having seen what she had. Perdita found a Falabella mare nursing a foal. She
judged the foal to be four months old, maybe a little younger, but not much.
Perdita explained the situation to the mare, who confirmed that her foal: “My
Billy,” as she called him, was nearly off her milk, in fact, this was his last
ever drink of it. Billy, hearing this, stopped drinking and scowled at his
mother. “Is that mare sizing up my milk supply?” he snapped. “Yes, I mean no,
not her Billy,” his mother replied, “another foal needs help. Anyway, I make the
decisions round here as to where my milk goes, and you’re having no more!” With
that she turned away, and Billy realised his milk drinking days were over.
Thoroughly furious with the world, he turned and started ripping up grass,
tearing at it with as much force as he could. Then he started digging with all
four hooves at the grass, trying to take his rage out on it. The mare, who’s
name was Tinka, followed Perdita to where Snowdrop was lying with Willow.
Snowdrop was relieved to see Tinka, and let her take over. Soon Willow, not
caring where the milk came from, as long as it came, was drinking furiously.
“Thanks,” Snowdrop said, “you saved this little filly’s life Tinka.” Tinka
smiled with genuine pleasure. “I don’t know how any mare could just run off and
leave her foal,” She said.
Cleo didn’t know what to do. she felt lost and she was beginning to wonder
about her foal, she knew that if she didn’t go back Willow would die … did she
want that to happen? Should she go back and face whatever snowdrop and Sam would
have to say to her? She decided she would, she had to do something, she was
heavy with milk and she needed to give it to her foal.
Cleo went back to the bush, but couldn’t find her foal. She walked for a
while, looking everywhere but nowhere. Suddenly she saw Willow, she was lying
beneath a bush with another mare. Approaching carefully, Cleo asked: “Have you
seen my foal?” Tinka looked at the mare in front of her. She realised who this
mare was, and wondered why she’d come back for her foal. “Cleo,” Tinka asked,
“Why did you return?” Cleo explained, she had no other answer than she was full
of milk and needed to give it to Willow, and that she thought she’d been stupid.
Tinka looked with loathing at Cleo. “I don’t know,” she said, “what will you do
to persuade me that you won’t hurt Willow the minute I’m out of sight?” Cleo
dropped to her knees and begged Tinka to let her have her foal back. Tinka
decided she would let Cleo have Willow back, but she would keep a sharp eye out
for anything suspicious. Willow, still too young to realise what was happening,
accepted all this. She wasn’t going hungry, but the mare who now lay beside her
had kicked her. Willow let it pass, for she knew no better. Tinka got up from
the ground, and, nuzzling Willow’s ear one last time, she left Cleo and her foal
alone. Tinka walked through the forest with heavy hooves, hardly able to lift
each foot off the ground. Tinka hoped that she hadn’t condemned Willow to death.
Finding a bush, Tinka crawled beneath it. The bush led into a tunnel, Tinka
crawled some more, it was very hard going, but she managed to crawl. Soon she
found herself in a green inner chamber. Ahead of her was a dark passage, and, oh
no! Four eyes in the darkness, and they, “Tinka began to sweat with fear! The
eyes were coming towards her! Screaming, Tinka turned and tried to run, but
couldn’t get out, the only way was to crawl! Suddenly she felt a soft muzzle
brushing her ear, and a familiar voice said softly: “Tinka, it’s me, Sam.
Silver’s here too.” Tinka’s legs collapsed under her and she lay shivering on
the earthen floor. “What, where, what is this place Sam?” Tinka asked, trying
not to cry. “You are in the entrance to my home,” Sam replied. Tinka looked
around her. “You, you live here?” she asked, waving a hoof at the chamber. “No,
down the dark passages,” Sam replied, “Silver can tell you more.” Tinka didn’t
like the dark, and she was terrified that Silver might force her to follow her
into pitch darkness. “What is this place Silver?” Tinka asked, “as Sam is being
so secretive.” “Tinka,” Silver replied, “What lies beyond those passages is the
most amazing place I’ve ever seen!” Tinka saw Silver’s natural enthusiasm. In
spite of her fears, she said: “Please, tell me more, Both of you.”
“Come with us.” Silver said kindly. “I, I, I just left Willow with Cleo, I
am so worried about her.” Tinka sobbed. She allowed herself to be led along the
dark passages, silver in front and Sam behind her. “Its ok, Tinka dear” Silver
said warmly. “You need to rest, Willow will be ok, don’t worry, Brock is out
there and Foxy too, they won’t let any harm come to her. Once they had reached
the warm carpeted chamber Tinka flopped down between Sam and Silver.
"What a wonderful spot in this rock!" Tinka said. "Rock?" Sam asked. "Yes,
um, isn't this place made of rock?" Tinka asked. "Yes, I see what you mean now."
Sam replied laughing softly.
Tinka stretched out full length on the soft flooring. She’d never seen
such a place as this before. The dark passages had frightened her badly, but she
reasoned that this was a necessary thing, to keep Sam and Silver safe. Once
Tinka was rested, Sam showed her round his home. Tinka couldn’t believe how soft
the flooring was. “This stuff feels wonderful under hoof,” She said. “It’s nice
isn’t it,” Silver replied, “it’s goat hair you know.” Tinka quite believed it all. She didn’t know what to make of Sam. She
liked him, there was no doubt about that. Tinka looked at Sam. Seeming to sense
this, he stopped walking and asked: “yes Tinka?” The mare hesitated, unable to
find words to apologise to him for invading his home, this was embarrassing.
“Sam, I, I’m sorry for invading your place. I didn’t know,,,” “No matter,” Sam
replied, waving a hoof dismissively, “you found a bush and crawled beneath it.
Quite deliberately there is no sign saying “Sam’s home,” so you weren’t to
know.” “No,” Tinka conceded, “but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
She hugged Sam, forgetting for the moment he was second in command. Sam laughed:
“I’ll have you disciplined for that,” he said playfully. Tinka, realising her
error, pleaded for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry! I forgot! Oh dear, what have I
done!” she whinnied pitifully. Sam, smiling broadly, hugged her tightly. “That’s
no problem Tinka,” he said, “I love a hug, so don’t worry.” Tinka relaxed
slowly, making a mental note not to make that mistake again. Even though Sam had
waved away her mistake, Tinka still felt awkward. She wasn’t used to her leaders
accepting affection from their subordinates. Her leader in her old herd used to
nip and kick anyone who crossed even the slightest red line. “Sam, and Snowdrop
too, well,” Tinka thought, “they aren’t like that.” Tinka had heard of Patch and
Snowdrop’s spontaneous game in the clearing. She’d not believed it possible, but
when she’d heard it from Patch himself, then she accepted it. Tinka knew of the
game, and had played it with her foal Billy. Billy now felt he was too old for
games like the one Patch played. Tinka still enjoyed it though, it stretched her
mind, and she liked a challenge. Sensing what Tinka was thinking, Sam reached over
and pinned a hoof.
Tinka, squealing with mock fury, went after the chestnut gelding, trying to get at
his hooves, while he tried to get at hers. The two horses fought madly, each
trying to keep the other from getting a hoof. Tinka was soon falling behind, Sam
had three of her hooves to her having only one of his. A double touch from Sam’s
muzzle to Tinka’s right hind hoof finished the contest. Both Sam and Tinka lay
exhausted on the soft flooring.
While she rested, Tinka looked at Silver. She hadn’t seen the mare at close quarters before,
but now she could see her in her full glory. Silver was beautiful to look at.
Her silver grey fur shone under the dim light of the fireflies with a hint of
the promise that Tinka knew was there when full sunlight hit it. Silver saw
Tinka examining her. Realising she’d been noticed, Tinka looked away. “You were
looking at me Tinka,” Silver stated. “Um, yes, I was,” Tinka gabbled, “I, I
think, you, your fur is so beautiful Silver. I’m sorry, so sorry,,” She stopped,
for Silver was hugging her tightly. “I’m glad you like my fur,” Silver said,
“here, touch it, stroke it.” Tinka did so, and it was soft and warm, so soft and
warm! Tinka couldn’t help endlessly stroking Silver’s fur. “Take a look at my
hooves too if you like,” Silver invited. Tinka examined all four of Silver’s
hooves. “They’re white, like Snowdrops!” She said. “yes,” Silver replied. Tinka
couldn’t help hugging Silver once more. Then, feeling that he might be left out,
she hugged Sam also. “Aren’t you gonna look at my hooves too?” Sam asked, “I’m
feeling left out! Boohoo!” Tinka smiled, realising what the gelding was doing.
“All right,” she said,” Show me your hooves.” Sam did so. Tinka felt a little
better about things now she had Sam and Silver on her side. Sam looked at Tinka.
“That game was fast!” Tinka whinnied. “I play hard,” Sam replied. Tinka smiled:
“I saw,” She replied, “Sam, have you got any regard for your own safety?” Sam
smiled at her: “I do have, yes, but I knew where your hooves were,” he said.
“yes, I realise that,” Tinka replied. She reached out with her muzzle and
touched Sam’s right forefoot. “You won that one fair and square,” she said. Sam
smiled with genuine pleasure. Silver lay down beside Sam and he hugged her. “I’m
not looking for a game,” she said. “Tinka started it,” Sam replied, “she touched
my hoof first, I just got her back.” Silver cuddled up to Sam, luxuriating in
the warmth of his fur. “I love you Sam,” Silver said. “I love you too Silver,”
Sam replied softly. Tinka watched over them both. “Good luck to them,” she
thought.
Tinka realised then that she’d totally forgotten about Sam’s disability.
She no longer thought of him as a blind horse, to her, now she knew him, he was
just Sam. Tinka wondered if anyone should be known by their problems. “Whitehoof
is,” Tinka thought, “his white hoof was seen as a problem.” It didn’t seem right
though, to define a horse by what was wrong with him or her. Tinka then thought
of her own name and how her mother had chosen it. She’d spelled it wrong, but
what she’d meant to suggest was that Tinka was a mischievous filly. Even though
she herself had been marked, Tinka still had to admit she’d forgotten Sam was
blind. “His blindness isn’t all of him,” she thought, “it is part of him, that’s
for sure, but it’s not him. Sam is a blind horse, there’s no getting around that
fact, but he’s also Silver’s sweetheart, the herd’s second in command, Cleo’s
foal, and also, a horse I consider a friend.” Tinka looked over at Sam. She
realised the dark passages were his world, and she’d been petrified, but he
wasn’t. Tinka had hated the dark ever since she could remember, and walking into
those dark passages was almost too much for her. Tinka lay down close to Sam and
nudged him. When the chestnut gelding turned her way, cocking an ear at her, and
asked what she wanted, Tinka couldn’t reply: “I, I can’t say,” she said, “I
don’t know how to put into words what I’m thinking!” “Try,” Sam urged, although
he thought he already knew. “I got to thinking about you, and about your sight
problem n’all, and, well Sam, To tell you the truth, I’d forgotten you were
blind. You played with me so naturally when we had that game, that, well, I
forgot! I know your disability isn’t the whole of you, and I know you don’t
dwell on it, but Sam, well, I, I, I don’t see you first and foremost as a blind
horse! I see you as Silver’s partner,” Sam smiled broadly at this. Tinka
ploughed on: “As herd second in command, as Cleo’s foal, and also, well, as a
friend of mine. If I can class you as that of course.” Sam’s smile grew. “Of
course you can,” he said, “I like you too, and so does Silver.” Tinka smiled
back at the chestnut gelding. “You are a friend, second in command, Cleo’s foal,
Silver’s sweetheart, all that, but you also happen to be blind. Sam, I think of
you as a normal horse, if I can use that word. You are blind, and yes that is
always at the back of my mind, but it, while it’s part of you, and needs
consideration, it’s not all of you, at least I don’t think so. You are not
defined by your disability, not to me anyway, although it is part of you. Some
horses may think of Sam as first and foremost, a blind horse, but not me. Nor do
those who know you think of you as foremost, a blind horse, although your
disability should never be dismissed out of hoof. I hope I’ve made myself clear
enough,” Tinka said, “because, Sam, I’m not very good at expressing myself.” She
realised that Silver had woken during all this and had overheard all. “I think
you’re right Tinka,” she said, “to me, and to all who know him, Sam is just Sam.
Yes, he’s blind, but that isn’t all of him by any means.” She hugged Sam
tightly. Sam returned her embrace. Tinka also wanted to hug Sam, but stopped
herself. She wanted to tell him that she trusted him. Suddenly Sam was hugging
her, and Tinka felt all her anxiety flow from her.
Tinka buried her face in Sam’s warm, thick mane. She felt safe with him,
as she knew Silver did. If Sam was there, no darkness could hurt her, for Tinka
felt he had tamed the darkness that terrified her. “We’d better get back to the
herd don’t you think?” Silver asked. Sam released Tinka, and reluctantly, she
followed him and Silver out of the main door, and along the dark passages to the
outside world. Tinka didn’t like the sound her hooves made on the rock floor.
Horrible, clattering, echoing off every wall for miles, each of Tinka’s
footfalls, no matter how carefully she placed each hoof down, seemed to ring out
for eternity! Silver felt Tinka’s fear and moved alongside her to give her comfort
and support. “It’s okay,” Silver said, “the entrance to Sam’s home is like this
for a very good reason. It is meant to terrify horses, that is what keeps anyone
who stays in the chambers safe. You and me are safe for Sam is showing us the
way, whitehoof wasn’t safe, because he didn’t know, and he got into trouble.” At
that moment, Tinka dared not ask what happened to Whitehoof. Tinka couldn’t see
in front of her, she couldn’t even see her own hooves, and that was the most
frightening thing, not being able to see where she put her feet. “I don’t like
it Silver!” Tinka said, her voice rising to a wail of fear. Ordinarily she would
have been profoundly embarrassed at this kind of display, but now, Tinka didn’t
care! She was scared beyond anything she’d ever experienced before, and she
wanted to get into the light! Silver hugged Tinka tightly. “It’s gonna be all
right,” she said softly, “you said you trusted Sam Tinka, do you?” Tinka
replied: “Yes, yes I do.” “Well then,” Silver said, “trust him to get you into
the light.” Tinka took three deep breaths to calm herself. “I will,” she said
faintly. Sam found the underground river and called back to Tinka and Silver.
Tinka wailed pitifully: “A river? What if it’s too deep? What if I can’t touch
bottom? What if I’m not strong enough to swim it? Oh Silver, I don’t like this!”
Sam, overhearing all this, came back to them. “This is a different river to the
one you are used to Silver. It is deeper, it is faster, but there is a boat.” “A
boat?” Silver enquired. “Yes,” Sam replied, “have you ever seen one before?”
“No,” Silver replied, “by the way you are talking, I suppose we have to use this
boat thing. What is it Sam? More to the point, what does it do, and how do you
expect us to use it?” “Follow me,” Sam replied, “and I’ll show you.” Tinka and
Silver followed Sam’s footfalls. He led them to the river and along the bank.
They still couldn’t see anything, but trusted the chestnut gelding to show them.
Sam led them to a boat the beavers had built for him. They didn’t mind coming
into his dark passages, and regularly serviced the boat, which was large enough
to accommodate four Falabella horses lying in the bottom, with enough room for a
pilot to start and stop the boat. Sam knew the route the river would take them,
he also knew how to stop the boat with a paddle connected to a lever. This lever
would, when pushed, dig into the riverbed, which was not any more than a foot or
so beneath the boat at any time during the journey they were about to embark
upon. Sam knew something else, the journey was going to be the fastest journey
either Silver or Tinka had ever made. Sam knew they would be frightened, but
hoped they both trusted him enough to guide them. They found the boat, and
Clementine, one of the beavers who serviced the boat. She was checking it over,
and when she heard Sam coming, stopped her work and ran to him, embracing him
tightly. “what brings you to the river?” She asked. Sam, glad to see Clementine,
who he’d known for as long as he could remember, replied: “I’ve got two friends
of mine with me, Silver and Tinka, I thought I’d give them a ride on the boat.”
Clementine smiled and said: “It’s ready for you.” With that she left. Silver and
Tinka could hear the rushing water, and hoped Sam knew what he was doing. Coming
up with him, they could just about see the boat in the light cast from a crack
in the rock ceiling. “So this is it,” Silver observed. “yep,” Sam said, “welcome
to my boat!” he thought for a minute and added: “Oh, um, I haven’t named her
yet, so if you think of a suitable name, let me know.” Tinka could think of
several names for the boat, all obscene and totally unspeakable, but she kept
them to herself. She knew she wasn’t going to like this journey. “How does it
work?” Tinka asked. Sam explained that wood floats, Tinka already knew this.
“It’s a kind of large peace of wood then,” Tinka asked. “Yes,” Sam replied. Getting
into the boat, Sam let Silver and Tinka lie down comfortably on the soft goat
fur padding. “This is the same stuff as in your home isn’t it Sam?” Silver
asked. “Sure is,” Sam replied, “only the best.” Tinka couldn’t have cared less
about the padding, she didn’t know why she was now in an alien craft, putting
her trust in Sam, but she was. Tinka bit her tongue hard and shook herself, but
she was still in a boat, in pitch darkness, about to head into more darkness.
She put her head down and waited for the worst to happen. Sam climbed into the
boat, and settled himself down in the front, and placed a hind foot on the lever
that would release the paddle that stopped the boat from moving. He knew that,
when he pushed the lever, the paddle would come up flush with the bottom of the
boat, and they’d be off. He had no control apart from getting the toe of that
same hoof behind the lever and hauling back against it to bring the paddle down
again. He’d done it before, and it was a struggle. If he could manage it,
Ideally he liked to get behind the lever to push it with a hind foot. Most times
he managed to do this, but one time he remembered well, when he couldn’t do it
fast enough, and his fetlock hurt for ages after. Sam’s hoof rested on the
lever. Silver could see Sam’s hoof on the lever about five feet in front of her.
She examined his tiny hoof. Silver loved Sam, and his tiny hooves intrigued her.
They were not like her own. They were tiny, and made to remain so, whereas her’s
were made to grow larger. Now however, she didn’t dwell too much on this, Sam
was taking her and Tinka into the unknown. “All comfortable?” Sam asked. Silver
glanced back at Tinka. Tinka had her head down, and ears pinned flat back.
“It’ll be okay Tinka, promise,” Silver whispered. Tinka, her eyes closed, didn’t
reply. “go Sam!” Silver whinnied, throwing herself into her place. Sam pushed
the lever hard! The paddle came up slowly at first, Sam having to push with all
his strength to move it, as the boat hadn’t been used for a few months. Suddenly
the lever gave, the paddle hit the bottom of the boat with a dull clonck, Sam
threw himself into the back of the pilot’s part of the boat, jammed a hind
foot against the lever in preparation for stopping the boat, and they were off!
The ride was fast! The boat quickly picked up speed, within a very short
time it was going faster than Silver could have ever dreamed of! Sam lay in the
bottom of the boat, his right hind hoof jammed against the lever that would stop
the boat. Tinka lay to the right of, and slightly behind Silver. Glancing back and
to her right, Silver saw Tinka had her head down and her hind and forefeet
jammed against the wood in an attempt to get hold of something to hang on to.
The boat raced on. Suddenly Silver saw light, the boat whipped round a bend in the river,
and they were in bright sunlight. Sam yelled: “Silver, “we should come
to the herd’s place in a few minutes, keep a look out for a large willow tree!”
Silver kept her eyes on the bank, only to see Brock and Foxy playing Patch’s
game on the bank. When the vixen and the badger saw the boat, they stared in
astonishment! “Coming up to the willow tree now!” Silver squealed. Sam pushed
with all his strength against the lever. Closing his eyes, he bore down against
the lever, not caring if all his muscles ended up useless, or he damaged a hoof
stopping the boat, as long as he stopped it! The boat came to a halt, and after
making sure the paddle was secure, Sam flopped down in the bottom of the boat,
thoroughly worn out. There was a slight wade through water to make the land, but
the river was shallower here, and all three horses managed it.
“What an amazing boat!” Whitehoof whinnied. He’d come down from the main wood and was now staring at the
boat Tinka, Sam and Silver had arrived in. “How on earth did you get
hold of this Sam?” Whitehoof asked. “Beavers,” Sam replied, getting out of the boat, and wading through the water to munch grass,
“they made it for me, nice ain’t it.” Whitehoof waded through the water,
clambering aboard. He found the lever, and went to push it. Silver squealed at
him! “Don’t push that!” Too late, Whitehoof pushed the lever and the boat
quickly disappeared out of sight. “What are we gonna do now?” Tinka asked.
“Where does that river go?” Silver asked. Sam thought for a while. “it goes down
towards something called Willow island. The river empties into a lake.” Silver
became thoughtful, hadn’t she heard of this island somewhere before?
Pip arrived to see Whitehoof disappearing out of sight in the boat. She
started to panic, memories of that awful river flooded back into her mind.
“What’s happening, I need Whitehoof, where is he? Please don’t let him drown,
not like Kora, I couldn’t bare it!” Sam and Silver tried to calm Pip down. “Oh
goodness, I need to tell Snowdrop, maybe she can do something!” Pip wailed.
Snowdrop looked out from a stand of trees on the island. Shortly before
his death, Ferdinand had told her of this island, and how the men had come and
destroyed it. Now, years later, the island was regenerating, the humans, it
seemed to Snowdrop, having realised their mistake in ruining their heritage.
Snowdrop had swum the lake, and had found the island deserted with no sign of
humans anywhere. She knew they’d been there, but not recently. Now she was
standing, looking out at the lake. Hardly believing what she was seeing,
Snowdrop watched a boat come into view. It had a horse in it, a horse who was
frantically trying to stop the boat! Snowdrop ran down to the water’s edge and
watched the boat, knowing the current would bring it to the island. The boat ran
into the shore, and Snowdrop leapt aboard, to find Whitehoof terribly
distressed. “What have you been doing?” Snowdrop asked. Whitehoof, hardly
believing he was still alive, hugged her tightly. “oh mum, mum,” he sobbed.
“It’s okay my little Whitehoof,” Snowdrop said soothingly, “I’m here now.”
Whitehoof buried his face in her thick mane. “Where are we?” He asked. “Willow
Island,” Snowdrop replied. Whitehoof hadn’t believed Ferdinand when he’d told
him of his old home, but here indeed was an island, and there were willows on
it. Whitehoof looked towards the island in wonder. “So Ferdinand was speaking
truth,” he said. “Yes Whitehoof, he was. For this is his home.” Snowdrop replied
softly.
Snowdrop and her foal explored the island. It was large, with a stream. It
also had a large wood, with badger sets, squirrel drays and everything that a
herd of horses might want. Snowdrop was now certain that this was Ferdinand’s
old home. Whitehoof called her over to him. “Hey mum! Come and look at this!”
Snowdrop cantered across to him and looked where he was pointing. There, on a
flat stone, were words, they were in the language of the badgers, but they were
clear to Snowdrop. “here lies Hector, the first to die in the rout of willow
island by the animals known as humans.” The look on his mother’s face unnerved
Whitehoof. “This is Ferdinand’s old home,” she said, “hector was a name he
mentioned.” “If the humans have been here, then we should get away from here,
quickly too!” Whitehoof whinnied shrilly. “No,” Snowdrop replied, “maybe we
shouldn’t act so fast. You told me once that Petra had seen the thing that had
raised the island to it’s foundations. You described it to me, and there is not
a trace of the thing here. Maybe, the humans realised what they lost when they
drove out all the horses from this place.” Whitehoof began to shake his head,
but Snowdrop raised a hoof to stop him: “Humans aren’t stupid Whitehoof! They
might be foolish, yes, but they aren’t stupid. Humans can change their ways as
well as horses can. Maybe that’s what happened. The humans regretted destroying
the island and it’s inhabitants, so they now have restored the island, and left
it to do it’s own thing. In the hope that one day, the horses may return to
their rightful home.” “You sound certain about it,” Whitehoof said. Snowdrop,
looking grave, said: “I am certain about it. I have informers who have kept me
in touch with what is going on here. When Ferdinand told me of the island, I had
otters and beavers look into whether an island called Willow island had ever
existed, and they said it was a real place, and that it still existed. I was
then told of it’s story to date. It seems the humans did destroy it, but did
also see the error they had made in destroying it. They then put back the willow
trees, and left the island to do it’s own thing.” Snowdrop walked away,
Whitehoof following, wanting to hear more. His mother seemed to be looking for
something, suddenly she stopped dead beside a large stone set upright in the
ground. This stone was in sight of the water, so that passing boats could see
it. On the stone were large letters, reading as follows. “Willow island national
heritage site.” A brief description of the happenings on the island followed,
mentioning the rout of the equine population. The sign finished with these
words: “This place is protected in the hope that, one day, horses may live here
again in peace.” Whitehoof stared at the stone. “So it’s all true,” he said.
Snowdrop reread the inscription on the stone, wondering where all the horses
went to. Kora and Ferdinand ended up with her herd, but what of the others.
Snowdrop was getting on in years herself now, and she knew she had one last
thing to do before she died. She had to complete the restoration of Willow
island, and take it back for it’s rightful owners. “Whitehoof,” she said, “we
have work to do.”
Pip was crying hysterically into Silver’s soft coat. “Silver, suppose he
drowns,” she wailed, “I love him Silver, he’s all I’ve got left. Petra was taken
from me, Kora drowned crossing the river and Ferdi died of old age last
winter. He was a wonderful horse and as near to a father figure as I ever
remembered. “Hey, its ok, Pip, I am sure Whitehoof will be ok.” “But, where is
Snowy?” Pip whined miserably. Silver had never seen Pip behaving like this. She
held her close and let her cry. Meanwhile, Back in the forest Sam was talking to
Brock and Foxy. Brock was telling Sam about the beavers and his relationship
with the river creatures. Sam guessed that Whitehoof would land on Willow
Island. He had to get a message there just to be certain that he was right.
Sam Whistled up Tawny, his friend in the bird community. Tawny came
swooping down from a nearby tree and perched between Sam’s ears. This made foxy
laugh helplessly. “Don’t laugh,” Sam cautioned, “Tawny might be our only hope of
getting a message to Whitehoof wherever he may be.” Sam told Tawny that he
wanted him to go and search for Whitehoof, when the owl hooted excitedly. Sam
translated that Tawny had seen Whitehoof and Snowdrop, and they were both on
Willow island! Sam’s relief was deeply felt. Sam quizzed Tawny on where the
island was, how far away from the shore it was, and many other details. Then he said finally:
“We have to go there, all the horses, we have to get there!” He ran back to the
rest of the herd. Pip stopped him. “What on earth’s the matter?” She asked. “I
know where Whitehoof and Snowy are,” Sam panted, “they are on Willow island,
Tawny, he, he told me Pip.” Pip was overjoyed to hear this. Silver asked:
“Where is this island? Even if we did find it, an island, as we all know, is
surrounded by water, so how are we gonna get across to it?” “Swim,” Sam replied,
“there’s no other way. We can’t propel a boat, so we have to propel ourselves.
Horses can swim, we’re quite good at it as a rule.” Tinka looked horrified.
“I’ve never got my hooves wet in my life!” She squealed. “You’ll have to soon,”
was Sam’s reply. Tinka didn’t like the sound of this, but again, she trusted the
chestnut gelding. The word was quickly spread around the herd, and they all
gathered under the old oak for the last time. “You have heard what is
happening!” Sam Whinnied, “we are going back to where horses belong! We are
going to willow island! The journey is not far, two or three days at most, and
we will take it at night, and slowly because of pregnant mares and newborn
foals! We will have to swim to the island, we can’t help that! Those who wish to
leave now can do so. Those who wish to come to Willow island, we are leaving in
an hour from now! Those who wish to leave, leave now! I bid those who wish to
leave good grazing and a prosperous life! So, those who wish to leave, do so
now! You have the time it takes me to walk round the base of this oak five
times! After that, I will take it that those who stay are coming on, what
hopefully, will be our final journey!” Sam walked slowly round the oak, once,
twice, thrice, but noone made a move. A forth circuit was made, still noone
moved. A fifth circuit completed, Sam stood in front of the whole herd. “I take
it, that you all wish to follow me to Willow island!” he whinnied. All the
horses raised a hind foot in unison and brought it down with an earth shattering
thud of assent. Then the journey began.
Meanwhile, Back on Willow island, Snowdrop was wondering how she was going
to get a message to the rest of the herd. She had no idea how long she’d
travelled to get to the island, and was concerned that the herd may never get
her message, even if she could send one, and that was unlikely. Depressed, she
wandered aimlessly. Whitehoof was distressed to see his mother in such a state.
He knew what she was thinking, for his thoughts were much the same. Walking down
by the shore, Snowdrop was stopped by an enquiring whistle from near the water.
Advancing carefully, Snowdrop found herself face to face with a huge dog otter.
The otter and the mare stared at each other for a while, before the otter said:
“My people find your boat, we have hidden it, for it is not safe to leave things
like boats around.” “It’s not my boat,” Snowdrop replied, “it belongs to my
friend Sam.” Snowdrop stopped. She’d never thought of the relationship between
her and her second in command in terms of friendship. She’d hugged Sam, and he
hugged her, and she supposed they were friends. Snowdrop now knew she considered
Sam and her as friends, because the thought she’d never see him again almost
tore her apart. The otter felt Snowdrop’s turmoil. “Sam,” he said, “we know him
here. He come down in boat, we otters pull it upstream when he want to get back
to the herd place. Otters very good friends with beavers, who it is said, make
boat for Sam. Yes,” the dog otter said reflectively, “Sam very good gelding. He
very kind to otters, so we help him by pulling boat back to herd’s place.”
Snowdrop had an idea. “Please, I don’t know your name, but could, could you
please help me and my foal?” The otter looked thoughtful. “Who are you?” he
asked. “My name’s Snowdrop, Sam might have also used the name Snowy to refer to
me. My foal is Whitehoof,” Snowdrop replied. The otter’s face lit up with
recognition. “yes,” he said, “we see horse with white hoof coming down river a
few days ago, he be in big trouble. Otters think he no know how to work boat,
that he steal boat even. Whitehoof very lucky he no trouble see before get to
Willow island.” Snowdrop realised this otter didn’t trust her, but why should
he? “I am herd leader,” Snowdrop explained, “Sam was, is, my second in command,”
She stopped, for the dog otter snapped: “We no believe you! We know white hoofed
horse, but how he be foal of you? You be white pure and simple, and he be
black!” Snowdrop explained about the union between her and a black stallion.
“Right,” the otter said, “good enough then.” “It had better be,” Snowdrop
thought, “for it is the truth!” “We help you to find herd again,” the otter
said. At that moment, Tawny swooped in hooting urgently. The otter bad Tawny
tell what he knew. It seemed to Snowdrop that the owl, who she feared, was Sam’s
friend! “Sam does have some strange friends,” she thought, but then dismissed
that thought, for if he hadn’t made friends with the creatures of the forest and
of the air, he would have been killed by them. The otter went to Snowdrop and
picked up her right forefoot in it’s paws, much as Brock did when he had
important news to bring her. This trait of the woodland creatures intrigued
Snowdrop, what did they mean by it? Her tiny hoof in it’s paws, the otter told
Snowdrop that Tawny told him Sam had made plans to bring the whole herd, or as
many horses as would come with him, to Willow island. “If you want,” the otter
said, “we send Tawny back with message that we get plenty boat like boat that
Whitehoof came in, and we get horses to island snappy quick. How you say to
this?” Snowdrop wondered where the otters would get boats enough for all the
horses, and also if some of the horses would trust a boat. Snowdrop had only
seen two boats in her lifetime, and had never travelled on one. “Me think you
undecided about this,” the otter said. “You’re right there,” Snowdrop replied.
“Me have other idea that might be good,” the otter replied, “me take Snowy white
mare and her little Whitehoof,” Snowdrop’s look of astonishment at the otter’s
use of her foal’s pet name made him smile. “me know what you call Whitehoof, for
me hear mare talking to herself in depressed moment. Me hear you wondering what
would become of you and your little Whitehoof.” Snowdrop didn’t know whether to
be angry or pleased about this. She dragged her mind back to the matter in hand.
Removing her hoof from the otter’s paw, Snowdrop said that she agreed with the
idea that her and Whitehoof be pulled up stream in the boat to the place where
the herd now were. The dog otter said he would send Tawny with a message. The
owl sent on his way, Snowdrop went to look for Whitehoof. Finding him gazing at
the huge stone on which the history of Willow island was inscribed, she told him
what she and the otter had decided. Whitehoof looked at her. “I don’t want to
come,” he said, “I will stay here.” Snowdrop didn’t argue. Suddenly she stopped,
staring with wide eyes at a horse coming over the grass towards her. This horse
was a Falabella filly, Snowdrop could see this. She could also see she was
nervous. The filly came within five feet of her and asked: “Is your name Snowy?”
Whitehoof bristled with fury at this newcomer using his mum’s pet name without
her permission, but Snowdrop didn’t seem to mind. “My name is Snowdrop,” she
replied, “but I am also known as Snowy by some.” The newcomer looked relieved.
“It is said,” the mare replied, “that there is a mare with white fur and hooves,
who leads a herd with the last remaining horses from Willow island among their
number, and that, when this mare brings her herd to the island, all will be well
again. I am not old enough to remember the rout of the horses from this island,
but I have heard it said that once the white mare comes with her herd, we can
come out from the darkness.” Whitehoof looked scornful. “What is all this
nonsense!” he whinnied angrily, “all this about a white mare and darkness?” the
newcomer looked at him. “I am only a few months out of foalhood. I was told this
by my mother. As to darkness, we live in underground passages and caves. We have
done ever since the humans took all the larger horses from the island. The
Falabella breed hid in the rocks, for we knew we were no use to the humans, but
could keep an eye out for any horses who would dare venture onto the island
after the humans left. We saw some once, but they never saw us. We saw a huge
grey mare lead her herd across the lake, and then depart sharply once they saw
what the humans had left. Then all the island blew up! We were safe in our
underground chambers, but the island was devastated, or so my mother says.”
Whitehoof didn’t like the thought of living underground. He’d hated Sam’s dark
passages, and couldn’t imagine how this filly, if she spoke the truth, which he
doubted, could stand it either. “Show us your home!” he commanded. The mare
blinked at him. “You are not my leader,” she said, “at the moment, we have no
leader as such. There are only a few of us, ten at most. If I was to accept
orders, I would most like to take them from the mare Snowy.” Snowdrop walked up
to the young Falabella filly and hugged her tightly. The filly didn’t seem to
mind, if anything, it seemed to Whitehoof that she relaxed slightly.
“Whitehoof,” Snowdrop said, “go and tell our friend the dog otter that we will
be delaying our journey for a while. I would like to take a look at this filly’s
home if she will allow me to.” Whitehoof trudged away to do his mother’s
bidding. Reaching the place where the dog otter lived, he was surprised to find
Tawny circling above, hooting wildly. When the owl saw the gelding, he flew down
and settled on the ground beside Whitehoof. The owl told Whitehoof that Sam and
the herd were very close, about ten minutes walk away from the lake. As
Whitehoof watched, he saw, on the opposite bank, Sam and Silver coming into
view. He whinnied excitedly, the sound carrying over the island to Snowdrop and
the filly. Hearing Whitehoof’s whinny, Both horses galloped over the island
towards where he stood. Once there, they stared at the growing mass of horses on
the other bank. The dog otter appeared then. “You have big herd,” he said.
Seeing Whitehoof on the island, Pip called out to him, and forging her way
through the throng of horses, she threw herself into the water, swimming
strongly towards her sweetheart. Whitehoof watched anxiously, but remembered
that she’d said once that she’d virtually carried Maynand over a river, so
swimming a lake shouldn’t be a problem. Indeed it wasn’t. Pip touched bottom,
and waded through the water to meet Whitehoof. The joy felt by both Whitehoof
and Pip could be seen by everyone. “They’ve missed each other greatly,” Sam said
to Silver. The question of how to get the other horses across to the island was
quickly solved when many of them threw themselves into the water after Pip and
swam across, until the only creatures left on the bank were a handful of horses,
who included, Sam, Silver and Tinka. Sam and Silver stayed behind, because Sam
was leader, and Silver his mate. Tinka stayed behind because, well, noone knew.
“Go on Tinka,” Sam urged, “swim across.” Tinka looked nervously at the water. “I
can’t, I can’t swim Sam, I’m sorry!” Silver walked across to Tinka and made to
push her into the lake. Tinka’s scream of terror was so heart felt that Silver
stopped herself. “I don’t like the water Silver, I don’t like it! You’ve got’a
believe me! I can’t swim!” Silver relented. Brock looked over at the island.
“Me’s thinking this be where me and Foxy leave herd of horses,” he grunted.
“Maybe Brock,” Sam replied. “Ah well,” Foxy said heavily, “all good things must
come to an end.” Silver looked at Brock and Foxy in turn. Foxy, stony faced,
hiding her true feelings Silver thought, and Brock, as Silver watched, a huge
tear rolled down the badger’s face and splashed onto the ground. Suddenly he ran
to Silver and hugged her fiercely, crying into her mane as if his heart were
broken. Silver nuzzled and fussed over the weeping badger. “Brock love horses
plenty crazy!” the badger sobbed, “me feel like did when mate died when horses
leave!” Silver tried to comfort the distraught badger. “We’ll only be over on
the island, we’ll come back often, and that’s a promise.” Brock clung to her
desperately. “I’m getting old now, me no think me make another winter, and me
love horses like them my own people!” Brock said, tears still streaming down his
face. Meanwhile, Foxy was looking at Sam. “Sam,” she said, “I never thought we
would part company, but now, now comes a time when that will happen. I am also
getting on in years, and I know I will never have another cub. I am willing to
remain a loaner, a loaner that is as far as male foxes are concerned. You see,
I, like Brock, can’t bear the thought of leaving you. I have learned so much
from you all. I have met horses with courage and steadfast character beyond my
wildest dreams. I have also trusted, and been trusted to pick out your hooves.
There is not a horse in the herd, who has not trusted me to pick a stone from
their hooves, but there are plenty of foxes who wouldn’t let me near their paws
if they had a thorn in a pad. You horses, flight animals that you are, have
trusted a vixen, who you met under less than auspicious circumstances, and I
thank you for that. If we must leave you here,,” Foxy couldn’t continue.
Throwing herself down at Sam’s feet, she picked up his right forefoot in both
forepaws, holding it tight as if to stop Sam from leaving. She then released the
hoof she was holding, and getting to her feet, she hugged the chestnut Falabella
gelding tightly, tears of grief coursing down her face. Sam held her tight to
him, trying not to cry himself, although it was difficult. Suddenly Tawny came
swooping out of the sky and landed beside Sam. The owl hooted excitedly. “What
is he saying,” Foxy sniffed. “He says,” Sam translated, “that the dog otter,
seeing how leaving us has affected you and Brock, has come up with an idea. If
he pulls the boat over here, and you and Brock get in the boat, then he can pull
you back to the island. I don’t see why Tinka can’t get in the boat too! After
all, she’s travelled in a boat before, and she won’t get her feet wet.” Foxy’s
face suddenly lit up! “hey Sam! That’s a wonderful idea!” She barked. Brock also
seemed a lot happier. The two woodland creatures were so happy, they started
playing a high speed version of Patch’s game, which Foxy won, as Brock couldn’t
stop laughing helplessly every time she touched his paws. The otter got the
message by seeing the badger and the fox playing on the bank, where as before
they’d been still and sad. He pulled the boat over to the opposite shore and
lined it up for Tinka, Brock and Foxy to get aboard. When the three animals were
safely in the boat, Sam gave it a shove out into the lake, the otter pulling it
back to the island. Silver turned to Sam and said: “Sam, it’s just us now. Say
goodbye to your old life, for on this island, I have a feeling nothing will be
the same.” With that she plunged into the water, Sam following behind. Taking
hold of a chunk of his mane in her teeth, Silver guided him over the short
expanse of water to Willow island. Scrambling ashore, they were greeted by the
whole herd. Once the greetings were over, Sam went to talk with Snowdrop. He
found her talking to a filly who he’d never met before. When she heard him
coming, Snowdrop stopped her talk and introduced Sam to the filly. “Sam, this is
Roxanne,” At the mention of her full name, the filly screwed up her face in
disgust! “Not Roxanne!” She protested, “Roxie please!” Sam smiled. “Hi Roxie,”
he said. Snowdrop continued her introductions. “Roxie, this is Sam, he’s second
in command of my herd.” Roxie looked at Snowdrop and said: “My family would like
to meet you and Sam. We have no herd leader, so I, as the youngest, have been
asked to invite you to our home.” Snowdrop accepted, and turning her head over
her shoulder, called to Whitehoof to tell the rest of the herd to make
themselves at home, while she and Sam went on herd duties. Whitehoof called back
that making themselves at home was what the herd was doing, and Roxie, followed
by Snowdrop, and then Sam, went towards a large hill, to Roxie’s home. Snowdrop stopped and called Whitehoof over to her.
When he arrived, Snowdrop turned to Whitehoof. “Oh Whitehoof!” She cried, “I just can’t
believe what is happening!” The filly didn’t quite know what to do next, she
moved as if to rush away but Whitehoof stopped her. “Its ok, its ok!” he said,
“Stay with us!” Snowdrop watched, she could see Sam. “Dear Sam!” she thought to
herself. “I want him to lead this herd once it is established back on the
island. I’m getting too old for this job now.”
Roxie wondered what to make of Whitehoof, one minute he was yards away,
the next he was hugging the white mare! How on earth had he managed to
get over the grass so fast! Now however, She was being asked to lead the way to
her home. Roxie led Snowdrop and Sam to the hill, and into it. They travelled
along dark passages, arriving eventually in a lighted chamber. In the chamber
were several horses, Falabella horses all of them. Snowdrop had barely set hoof
in the chamber when a motherly looking mare came towards her. Roxie introduced
Snowdrop to the mare. “Mum, this is Snowdrop. Snowdrop, this is Rosie.” Rosie
looked towards Sam. “Who is this?” Snowdrop introduced Sam. “This is Sam, he is
second in command to me,” she said, “I am leader of our herd,” She replied.
Rosie looked doubtful. “He is second in command?” She asked, “but, he, he’s
blind, even I can see that! So how can he be second in command?” Snowdrop didn’t
bet on this. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to discuss this kind of
thing. Sam stepped forward. “Rosie,” he said, “Look at me! Look into my eyes!”
Rosie did so. Sam seemed to know when she was looking directly at him. “I am
second in command,” Sam said, “I have been ordained by the white mare of whom
you speak in tales of old. This white mare, who you say will bring peace to this
island is standing before you, and you cast doubt on her judgement? You, who
told Roxie the tale she relayed to us about the white mare, now do not believe
that tale when the evidence is before you? Rosie, Snowdrop is a wise and kind
mare, and she has taken decisions of the sort that you would not even entertain
the thought of. This mare is the seventh foal of the seventh foal, her pure
white fur and hooves bear witness to this, and you still disbelieve her? As she
is leader, so I am second in command of our herd. Do not let my disability make
you blind to the truth. For as it has not blinded me, let it not blind you!”
Snowdrop now knew Sam would make an excellent leader. As Rosie and Roxie
watched, Snowdrop took three paces backwards and lay down, , signifying that Sam
was leader. “It is said,” Sam continued: “that you Falabella horses who live on
this island have no herd leader. It is also said that you await the white mare.
Alas, as you now see, the white mare has relinquished her position as leader,
and has chosen me as her successor. Now will you follow me? Or will you let your
eyes blind you to what is happening. There is peace on this island of yours, for
years you have not known peace, but as the tales prophesied, the arrival of the
white mare heralds the beginning of new things!” Snowdrop felt this gelding’s
power! It was as if he was relieving her of her Burdon of responsibility.
Turning towards her Sam said: “Come on Snowdrop my dear, time to go home.” With
that he turned to the other horses in the chamber and asked: “Will you come with
me? You look for a leader, and if you will accept me, you’ve found one. So
come!” Sam turned and led the way out of the chamber into the afternoon light.
Whitehoof saw Sam coming out of the tunnels and ran to meet him. He then
saw something that startled him. His mother was walking behind Sam, her head
down as if, if she were submissive towards the chestnut gelding! Whitehoof
stared, his mouth hanging open with amazement! “What on earth is going on!” He
asked sharply. “I think we’d better call the whole herd together,” Sam said,
“Whitehoof, would you tell the herd, thanks.” Whitehoof looked at his mother for
confirmation. “Whitehoof,” Snowdrop said, “Sam is leader now, just as you became
leader when Petra died. You take your orders from him now, not from me. I am
finished as leader of the herd.” With that she turned her back on him,
signifying the conversation at an end. Whitehoof trudged away to do Sam’s
bidding. When all the horses were gathered under a huge willow tree, Snowdrop
addressed the ranks of horses. “As you all know, I am getting on in years. So,
as is my right, I have passed on the leadership,” She said. Many horses looked
around to see who might be Snowdrop’s choice for her successor, but couldn’t
find anyone. “I am leaving the job of herd leader to Sam,” Snowdrop said, “I am
sure you will agree when I say he’s a horse of steadfast character, and has also
done well as my second in command.” No horse raised objections to this. Snowdrop
waited for a long time, then she said: “I will now hand the leadership formally
to Sam.” With that she went to the chestnut gelding, and because she knew he
couldn’t see her, Snowdrop let him touch her as she lowered her head in
deference to him. Then, to signify her trust in him, Snowdrop lay down at Sam’s
feet, inviting him to do what he would with her life. Sam turned his sightless
eyes towards Snowdrop’s. “You may get to your feet now,” he said gently, “go in
peace, for the herd is grateful to you for the service you performed for many a
year. Snowdrop, Snowy dear,,” at this form of address, Snowdrop’s control on her
emotions broke. She realised that, even now Sam was leader, and had dominion
over her very life, he was still able to talk with her as a friend, even at
ceremonies like this. Whitehoof watched as his mother, tears rolling down her
nose, turned and departed, Sam’s speech not completed, because Snowdrop couldn’t
bear it. “Good grazing Snowy dear,” Sam said softly.
Whitehoof stared. Pip started to cry as she realized what was about to
happen. She hoped that Snowdrop would live in peace to the last day of her life.
Whitehoof moved to comfort his sweetheart. “Hey Pip,” Whitehoof said
softly, “it’s okay, it’s okay!” “If it is so okay,” Pip asked, then why did
Snowdrop break down like that?” Whitehoof didn’t know, but knew it would be
foolish to let his mate know this. “Mum, well, she has had a lot on her plate
these last few days, and the realisation that she’d no longer need to carry out
her duties, along with the sudden shock that she was getting older, just tipped
her over the edge Pip. Mum will be fine soon.” Pip hoped he was right.
Meanwhile, Sam was considering who should take the second in command’s job.
Sam wanted Silver to be his second in command. Yes, he loved her but he
also knew that she was up to the job. She was strong in character and would take
no nonsense. He must ask her, but he would wait until they were alone.
Sam waited for the herd to disperse to their various tasks and then sort
out Silver. He found her lying under a nearby bush. Seeing him coming, she
crawled from beneath the bush, got to her feet and waited for him. Silver saw he
looked businesslike, so she braced herself for anything. Sam came up to her,
hugged her tightly and asked how she’d found the ceremony. “How did I find the
ceremony?” She asked, “hmm well,” she considered, her ears drooping as she
framed her response. Then she said: “I found the ceremony like everyone else
did, it was under a willow tree.” Sam laughed at this, thumping her shoulder
with his nose. “No no no!” he laughed, “what I meant was,,,” “I know,” she said,
“it was moving and brought home to me what the leader actually does. Poor
Snowdrop, when you addressed her as Snowy, why did she suddenly burst into
tears?” Silver asked. Sam replied: “I think she realised what was happening, and
that she was getting on in years. Also, when I called her Snowy, she realised
that even though I am now leader, she is still a dear friend of mine. I will
never refuse her a hug Silver, for she never refused me.” Silver hugged him
tightly. “What did you want to see me for?” she asked. “I wondered, Silver,” Sam
replied, “would, would you consider taking the job of second in command?” Silver
looked at her mate for a long time, before replying: “I will, although I have a
lot to learn, I am not as mature as you, so please forgive me if I make
mistakes.” Sam hugged her to him, pressing his muzzle into her mane. “Dear,
sweet Silver,” Sam said, “I will help you to discharge your duties, as long as
you promise me one thing.” “What’s that?” she asked. “That you will help me to
discharge mine, for we are both new to this.” Silver felt a lump in her throat.
“I will, darling Sam, I will help you with all my loyalty and strength. Now,”
she said briskly, “hadn’t we better tell the whole herd what is happening, for
they need to know me as second in command. Also Sam, what about the white mark
on your forefoot? Have you still got that. Sam raised his left forefoot and
showed Silver the sole. No mark was present. “Snowdrop removed that,” he said,
“now, let’s go and tell the herd what we have decided.” With that, Sam and
Silver went to the great willow. Sam stood in front of the massed ranks of
horses, the Falabella horses at the front, and the larger Shire and other draft
horses at the back. “I have called you all here today,” Sam began, “because I
have a very special announcement to make! My mate Silver has agreed to serve as
second in command. I know she is young, but so am I, and you didn’t appose my
election. So I hope, that all of you, will see fit that Silver should be
ordained as second in command!” There was dead silence. “I take it,” Sam said,
“that there is no objection? As that is, I now proclaim Silver is second in
command of the herd of Willow island!” suddenly there was a shifting of the
ranks of horses, and Roxie broke cover, coming towards Sam. Silver told him
this. Sam let Roxie come right up to him, before asking: “What can I do for
you?” Roxie stared into Sam’s face, although he couldn’t see her doing this. She
was screwing herself up to ask something. “Sam, please,” she began, “my family
wish to be included in the herd of Willow island too. Would you allow it?” For
answer, Sam nuzzled the filly’s ear. Feeling his soft muzzle brushing her ear,
Roxie smiled broadly. “I heard you were good with the foals. They told me of a
game, Patch’s game,” she said. Sam smiled and replied: “I am glad to include
your family in the herd.” Then, his eyes Shining with playful intent, Sam pinned
one of Roxie’s hooves! Squealing with surprise, Roxie ran after the chestnut
gelding, and they were soon playing a fast and furious game on the grass. Sam
won, he was quick and Roxie, only having learned the game that day, wasn’t so up
on the rules. All the horses watched this in amused silence. “That’s Sam all
over,” Snowdrop said, “he has the capability and maturity of mind to be a good
leader, but deep down, he’s a big foal!”
A year passed. The herd grew in number as the mares who were in foal when
they came to the island gave birth to their foals, swelling numbers to those not
seen since before the rout of the horses in Ferdinand’s day. Snowdrop was in the
twilight of her life now, and she was rarely seen around the island. Sam and
Silver learned their jobs quickly, both of leadership and of generally getting
to know all the herd by name, which Sam had an amazing memory for. One day, in
early spring, Snowdrop ventured out of her home to find Sam. Finding him, she
lay down beside him and they chatted about this and that. Sam could sense
Snowy’s frailty. He knew she was thinking of her own death and what would happen
afterward. Indeed, not shy of talking about her own mortality, she came to the
very subject. “Sam,” She said, “I don’t think I will last another year. I’m old,
twenty eight by my reckoning. I have had a good life all told. I know my first
herd chucked me out, and I was wandering in the wilderness for a while, but
after that, and that was only a short period after all, things have been good. I
have enjoyed my life. My foal Whitehoof is getting on well now, Pip is doing
well too. As for you and Silver, well,” she smiled and continued: “I wouldn’t
have believed when I first met you that you would be leader, nor Silver second
in command, but it is well that you are. You will have these positions for life,
or until you choose to renounce them or are driven out, although I think the
latter is not very likely.” Snowdrop couldn’t see as well as she used to, she
could only see Sam as a shadow now, her colour vision having deserted her. She
stared long and hard at Sam, trying to conjure up in her memory what the gelding
looked like. This, along with everything else, moved Snowdrop to tears. Sam
comforted her, nuzzling and stroking her. “As you cannot see me,” Sam said
gently, “I will describe myself to you.” With that he let Snowdrop touch him all
over, from his ears to his hooves. As she did so, he told her what colour fur or
hoof she was touching. Then Silver arrived, and she let Snowdrop do the same as
she had to Sam. The younger mare describing herself to Snowdrop in the same way.
“I remember you Silver when you were young,” Snowdrop said, “your unusual coat
and white hooves.” “I still have my silver grey coat and my white hooves,”
Silver replied. Snowdrop’s sight was fading, she knew the end was close. An hour
or so later, Snowdrop died with Sam and Silver beside her. When it was all over,
Sam kept watch beside the body of their former leader, While Silver went to
inform Whitehoof.
Silver found Whitehoof talking to Pip. When they saw her coming towards
them, the two horses stopped their talk and waited for the herd’s second in
command to address them. “Whitehoof,” Silver said, cutting straight to the
point, as she knew he didn’t like skirting any issue, “Would you please come
with me, you, and you alone for the moment please.” Pip didn’t argue, Silver,
she knew, would have included her if she possibly could. Whitehoof followed
Silver to a secluded spot, and the mare with the Silver grey coat faced him.
“Whitehoof, I’m sorry to inform you,” Silver began, “your mum died a few minutes
ago.” Silver hadn’t referred to Whitehoof’s mum as Snowdrop, for to him she
wasn’t Snowdrop, or even Snowy, she was his mum, so she reflected that. Other
bringers of the same news might not have done it that way, but it was Silver’s
job, so her choice. Whitehoof stared at her in disbelief. “Are you sure?” he
asked, “She was elderly yes, but she wasn’t dying, not yet!” Silver could see
that her words were hitting home. Whitehoof suddenly turned angry! “It’s not
true!” He screamed, “it’s a trick, you horrible mare!” Then he lashed out at
Silver! Dodging the flying hoof, Silver ran! Whitehoof followed hot on her
heels, furious with himself that he hadn’t landed his kick. Silver ran to the
one horse who could save her, Sam. For when He was there, Whitehoof dare not hit
her a second time. Silver forgot, in the heat of the chase, that Sam was keeping
vigil beside Snowdrop’s body. When they rounded a bend in the track and Silver
could see Sam, the sound of her hooves reached him and he stood up. Pip was
there also, and couldn’t have failed to guess the nature of the news Silver had
given Whitehoof. Whitehoof saw Sam, then he saw his mother lying beneath the
bush. Skidding to a halt, Silver forgotten now, he stared in silence at the body
of the white mare. Whitehoof turned his anger on Silver again. It burst fourth
frothy and venomous! “You disgusting creature!” he screamed at Silver, “you play
this horrid trick on me!” “No Whitehoof dear, no!” Pip whinnied shrilly, “it’s
no trick, it’s true, Snowdrop’s dead!” Whitehoof’s anger was checked suddenly.
He went to his mother’s motionless form and touched her ear and her muzzle.
There was no response at all. Her eyes were closed, as if she were asleep, but
Whitehoof knew in that instant that the mare who he’d depended on for his entire
life was no longer with him. Whitehoof wasn’t one for showing emotion in public,
but now, as he looked down at the mare who’d given life to him, his vision
blurred and he burst into tears. Whitehoof’s tears fell onto Snowdrop’s mane,
soaking it. Pip watched her mate going to peaces, and knew, although she wanted
to cry buckets for Snowdrop, she couldn’t, not now. Now was Whitehoof’s time for
grieving, and she needed to be there for him. She reasoned that her time to say
goodbye to her dear friend may never come, but her love for Whitehoof drove all
feelings for herself out of her mind. Pip stayed with Whitehoof, while Sam and
Silver went to arrange things. Sam arranged for the badgers to bury Snowdrop.
When Brock heard of the white mare’s death, he was devastated, but like Pip,
thought of his job first. He said he would arrange for Snowdrop’s burial as soon
as was decent. Sam then told Foxy to tell the whole herd that they should meet
under the great willow at nightfall. Terribly upset though she was, Foxy ran off
to do her duty. Sam and Silver returned to where Pip and Whitehoof stood vigil
beside Snowdrop’s body. Whitehoof’s first tears had subsided, and now he was
concerned with what happened next. Sam told him what he’d arranged. Whitehoof
took the news calmly. Pip stood beside her mate, to Sam, curiously unmoved by
her friend’s death. Sam didn’t question her about it however. The meeting was
held at nightfall. Sam told all the herd of the events of that day. “I am sorry
to inform you all of the death of a mare who was a great friend to us, and
without who’s help we wouldn’t be here today.” Sam said, “Snowdrop, the white
mare, died earlier today. I’m sure I speak for the whole herd when I say we will
all miss her,” Sam continued. Whitehoof choked, his tears flowing freely once
more. Suddenly Whitehoof ran towards Sam, screaming at him! “How can you talk
about my mum in that tone! You’re acting as if she was just an anonymous herd
member! She was your leader Sam! I think also, you called her a friend, and she
considered you one of hers!” Pip tried to calm Whitehoof down. “No Whitehoof!
Sam doesn’t mean it like that, he doesn’t mean it like you think! He’s doing his
duty! The Sam you see before you is the herd leader, not Snowdrop’s friend! He
has to act like this!” Whitehoof launched himself at Sam, the chestnut gelding
whipping round and flooring him with a two pronged attack from his hind feet.
Whitehoof collapsed onto the grass, scrabbling and squealing unprintable things
at his leader. Sam turned to the gathered horses. “I think we’d better go from
here now. Please, all of you, tonight, spare a thought for Snowdrop and for
Whitehoof her foal.” With that he turned and walked away. Silver and Pip stared
at each other across Whitehoof’s prostrate form. “I’ll help you get him into
somewhere warm and dry,” Silver said. With that they lifted Whitehoof and
carried him without resistance into the chambers where the Falabella horses used
to live. There they laid him down on a soft patch of grass. Pip stayed with her
mate, While Silver went back to Sam.
Sam lay under a bush, thinking hard. Whitehoof’s outburst was natural
enough, what troubled him was Pip’s apparent lack of feeling at the news of
Snowdrop’s death, or sight of the white mare’s body. Sam seriously thought Pip
didn’t care, but revised that quickly. Maybe she did, but didn’t know how to
show it, or couldn’t show it because of Whitehoof. Silver lay down beside him.
“Pip and I put Whitehoof in the Falabella horses old home,” she said, “I left
Pip with Whitehoof. Sam turned his head her way and said: “Silver love, I’m
worried about Pip. Whitehoof’s reaction was natural if extreme. By extreme, I
don’t mean his weeping for his mother, I mean his attempted attack on you, but I
think that was a product of grief, and nothing else. I’m worried about Pip, for
she seemed very cold towards the fact of Snowy’s death, as if she didn’t care
almost. Snowy was her friend, and she didn’t even shed a tear for her! I know we
all cope in different ways, but Pip, and I’m sure she won’t mind me saying this,
was always rather emotional, to Whitehoof’s embarrassment. So why not now?”
Silver wondered the same thing, but didn’t articulate her thoughts. The badgers
buried Snowdrop on the following day. Throughout the months that followed, Pip
helped Whitehoof through his grief, while never letting herself think of her own
feelings. Sure, she had them, but she was never alone long enough to really
think of them. It was, one day, about six months after Snowdrop’s death, that
something happened to change all this. Sam, Silver and Pip were lying together,
talking of this and that, the subject of Snowdrop’s death avoided by mutual
consent, when Roxie came into view. She looked nervous, but approached the three
horses anyway. The filly asked: “I’ve waited for a long time to ask this, and I
dared not ask Whitehoof. Snowdrop, who was she? What I mean is, how do you know
her, and why was she so definite about this island being safe again?” “Lie down
here,” Sam invited, shifting slightly to allow Roxie to lie between him and
Silver, then patting the ground with a forefoot. Pip moved to lie at right
angles to Sam and Silver, affectively boxing Roxie in. The filly didn’t seem to
mind. Pip began. “Roxie, we are going to tell you a story, a story of Snowdrop,
of Whitehoof, of Ferdinand, and of many other horses, but before that,,” Pip
stopped, tears finally overcoming her. Roxie looked at Sam, then at Silver. Sam
was close to tears, and so was Silver. Roxie got the idea that they had been so
intent on helping Whitehoof, they hadn’t grieved for Snowdrop themselves. Roxie
was an intelligent filly, and had seen death early in her life, so she knew that
letting herself go was important. She also knew too much about not doing so. How
it ate into her constantly if she didn’t express her feelings of loss. Sam
hugged Silver, tears finally overcoming him. Silver also wept for Snowdrop.
Roxie waited patiently, letting the three horses get the grief they’d stored due
to their various duties out of their systems. Tears don’t last forever, and the
three horses were composed after about five minutes. Roxie went to each and
hugged him or her. “Snowdrop is still with us,” Roxie said, “she lives on in the
tale you are about to tell, and in Whitehoof her foal. He is part of her. Pip,
Snowdrop won’t leave any of you if you keep her in your thoughts.” Pip looked at
Roxie with eyes that were bloodshot from weeping. “I hope you’re right,” she
said. Roxie replied: “Pip, Sam, Silver, let me tell you this. My half sister
died foaling, but she is still with me every day, for I think of her, and of the
tiny foal she managed to bring into the world shortly before nature took her. If
you look out for a jet black filly with a white star, that’s Sapphire, and she’s
the only living link with my half sister Tara. Every time I look at Sapphire, I
remember Tara, for Sapphire has Tara always with her.” These words of wisdom
from such a young filly as Roxie disconcerted the three listeners, but they
weren’t surprised. Roxie said: “Right, now to that tale if you will. I have
always wanted a title for a story, what do you suggest?” Pip, nominated as first
story teller, replied: “Well, I thought, um, well, as we are on Willow island,
and all this started on this island, why not, Willow island, a horse story?”

THE END

This story is a product of collaborative writing on Fabulous Fiction. The contributing writers are Whitney, Hannah, Miranda, Anna, Benjamin, Jazzy, Saffron, Jo W, Katherine, Katie, Martin, Nicky, Mule, Lisa, Vaughn, Cindy, Wendy, Italics, Vanessa, and Justin. Special thanks to Martin Wilsher for leading the story and later editing it for this web site.