The Silver Pony

by Holly Webb

  There wasn’t so much heather here, Daisy noticed, it was more grass and rushy plants. It was lovely, walking slowly with a pony, she decided. She was looking at the ground more than she usually did when she was dashing after Betsy. The heather was such a beautiful colour and it smelled so sweet, like honey and flowers mixed together.

  Em stopped for a few mouthfuls and Daisy crouched down to look at the odd little flowers at her feet. Mum had pointed out sundew to them a while ago and she was pretty sure this was the same plant. It was a strange reddish-green, sticky-looking thing, growing low to the ground. It looked a bit like a cactus, the leaves fringed with tiny spikes, but each one was tipped with a drop of sticky dew.

  Daisy peered closer, trying to see if there were any insects trapped there. The sundew plants were like Venus fly traps, Mum had said. They ate insects because the soil they lived in didn’t give them enough food. She was crouched right down, looking at the sundew, when something nudged her ear. Daisy jumped and then laughed. Em was leaning down too, maybe thinking that Daisy had found something good to eat. She blew loudly in Daisy’s ear.

  “I don’t think you’d like it,” Daisy said doubtfully. “It’s all sticky. But then you do like gorse and holly bushes, so what do I know?”

  Em didn’t eat it, though. She had a mouthful of sedge and grass instead, and walked on, picking her way carefully over the hummocky bits and avoiding the big puddles. Everything was so damp after all that rain. Daisy looked around and realized how far they’d come. It hadn’t felt like it – they’d been stopping and starting and chatting and looking at flowers – but she was a good way from the patch of heathland near home.

  They weren’t on the path any more either, but Daisy could see it, a little way to her left, almost on top of a ridge. She and Em had wandered down a bit so they were in a flat, damp patch not far from the edge of the stream. It had been raining so much that the stream looked full, she noticed. It was roaring along a lot faster than it usually did.

  “I’d better get back,” Daisy said, sighing. “It must be nearly lunchtime.” She pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket to check the time and made a face. Definitely lunchtime, she’d have to hurry or Mum would be getting worried about her. “Bye,” she said to the white pony, who was still grazing quietly behind her. “See you soon, Em.” She would have liked to stroke her again but she didn’t quite dare. That one moment had been just that – a one-time thing. It felt too special to repeat.

  She ought to hurry back up to the path. Daisy half turned, still looking lovingly at Em, and started to cut straight across the mossy grass. She wasn’t really concentrating on where she was going. Her head was still too full of the softness of Em’s nose and the silky-rough feel of her coat.

  Daisy was in the mire before she knew it. Waist-deep, cold, and too shocked even to scream. She didn’t understand – it had happened so quickly. She had been footsteps away from the path. How could she suddenly be up to her middle in mud? She reached out, trying to catch a tussock of grass to pull herself out. It couldn’t be that difficult – she’d been on solid ground three steps before and it hadn’t looked that wet…

  The mud underneath her sucked and bubbled, and Daisy felt herself sinking deeper. Until then she’d been surprised and disgusted and worried about what Mum would say about her good jacket. It wasn’t until she started trying to get out that she realized she might not be able to. There was nothing underneath her feet to push against. And the more she struggled, the tighter the mud seemed to suck her down.

  Daisy took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. She’d try again. There was that clump of reedy grass, just there. She could reach it. She could.

  But she couldn’t.

  She was stuck, completely stuck. She tried to remember the things she’d read about escaping from quicksand. That was almost the same thing, wasn’t it? She’d read lots of that sort of book from the school library – the kind that told you how to punch sharks in the nose and run in zigzags away from crocodiles. Don’t struggle, that was the important thing. Move slowly. She was pretty sure one of the books had said it was better to spread your weight out by lying back, rather than standing up, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t bear to lie down in it – she was sure she would sink under the surface. Maybe mud was different…

  Don’t panic and thrash about, the books all said – but Daisy could feel herself growing more panicky with every second. However hard she tried to lift her legs out, nothing happened – the mud was clinging to her too tightly.

  An awful story came into her head, one that Miss Fondu had told them at school – about the mires in the forest, and how deep and dangerous they used to be. They used to swallow people up, she’d said, and not just people, whole carts and teams of horses, there one minute, gone the next. But it’s not like that now, she’d explained – the drainage is much better. There were a few boggy bits still, but nothing like a couple of hundred years ago.

  People did get stuck though, and ponies and cattle sometimes. She’d seen the pictures in the local paper of the fire service having to pull them out.

  Ponies!

  Very slowly, very carefully, Daisy turned her head to look behind her. She’d forgotten about Em in her panic. Was she stuck too?

  The white pony was a couple of metres away, eyeing her worriedly as though she didn’t understand what had happened. I must have looked really strange to Em, Daisy thought, with a gulp of panicky laughter. There one minute, half gone the next…

  “What am I going to do?” she muttered. And then, with a worried gasp, “Don’t come any nearer! Go away, Em! Please!” If the mire was deep enough to swallow Daisy up, it could trap the pony too. Was she only imagining it, or was the mud higher up her jacket than it had been? She was sinking deeper.

  The white pony stood still for a moment, staring at Daisy – and then she stepped delicately forward. Daisy watched her in horror, shaking her head. “No, no, no… Em, don’t. Please!”

  But the pony seemed to know exactly where she was going. She placed her hooves so carefully, as though she could tell where the solid ground was. That was what had happened, Daisy realized. She had been walking with Em before. The pony had followed her own safe path through the mire, something she probably did all the time, and Daisy had been right next to her every step of the way. But on her way back Daisy had cut across the mossy grass to the path – the mossy grass that had been hiding the bog.

  Em came closer, very slowly, but then about a metre away from Daisy she stopped and lowered her head as if she was sniffing out the boggy ground. She stopped, stepping from foot to foot uncomfortably like she wanted to come closer but knew she couldn’t.

  “Don’t,” Daisy whispered. “Stay there.”

  Daisy looked down, her heart suddenly hammering in relief as she remembered. “Oh! My phone!” She could call Mum. She reached her right hand towards her jacket pocket and then she let out a little whimpering sound. Her pockets were full of mud – they were well beneath the wet, slimy surface. Her phone must be soaked. Mum was probably calling her this minute, Daisy thought, and she pressed her muddy hand against her mouth, trying not to howl.

  Then she took a deep breath and yelled instead, as loud as she could. “Help! Please! I’m stuck! Help! Help!”

  There was a startled twittering as a bird launched itself into the air from a bush a few metres away but no helpful walker called back to her, no one came running. She tried calling again and then again. A pause for breath and then more shouting. Her throat was hurting.

  Still nothing.

  Faint hoofbeats sounded behind her and Daisy craned over her shoulder again. Em was walking off. That’s good, Daisy told herself. Em needed to get out of danger – it was the right thing to do. But seeing the white pony walk steadily away from her was heart-breaking. It felt as if she was being abandoned forever. She wanted to scream to Em to come back, come back please…

  Instead she called, “Help!” again but she could tell her voice was softer a
lready. The mud was up to the fifth button on her jacket now.

  Time seemed to pass so much more slowly after Em had left her. Daisy had no idea how long she’d been trapped. She went on trying to shout but it was hopeless. There was no one there to shout to.

  She was so cold she couldn’t feel her feet any more, except for a weird, horrible squeezing. She was feeling cold inside too, and more and more frightened. What if no one ever came close enough to hear her shouting? Or what if they did, but it was the five minutes that Daisy was too tired and cold and scared to bother calling out? She thought of that and then spent the next few minutes shouting, “Help! Help!” until her voice was nearly gone.

  There was nothing she could do – that was what was so awful. She was helpless. After a while, the thought came to her – was this what Mara felt like? Stuck, with nothing she could do to make herself better? She started shivering, her teeth chattering, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was cold, or terrified, or both…

  “You idiot! How did you end up in there?”

  Daisy yelped. She only realized as she jerked awake that she’d almost been asleep, worn out with shouting and struggling and the awful clinging heaviness of the mud. She must have been in there for an hour at least. Maybe longer. She floundered, flapping her arms out of the mud and making a sort of strangled gulping sound as she slid in a little deeper.

  She stared at Jack and Em, standing on the path a few metres away from her. She’d never seen Jack look so angry – but then looking at the scarlet patches on his cheeks, she saw it was mostly because he was scared.

  “You never go near the bogs, never! What do you think those signs about keeping to the path mean?”

  “It was an accident,” she whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Good,” he muttered, looking around as if he was hoping someone else would come along to help.

  “How did you know I was here?” she coughed.

  “Snowball, of course. Keep still, don’t flap about. I’m going to see if I can find a stick to pull you out with.” He ran off. Panicked, Daisy tried to stretch up her head to watch for him coming back but she was too cold and tired to move.

  “I said don’t flap! You’ll sink more. I couldn’t find anything long enough for you to hold on to but I can test the ground with this.” He poked at the mossy patches between them and stepped forwards. Em came with him, setting each foot down with the greatest of care.

  “What did you mean about Em?” Daisy asked.

  “The pony? She came and got me. She just kept circling in front of the gate. Uuugh!” He jumped back as the stick sank right in. “Not that way, then. Don’t you have a phone?” he added crossly.

  “It’s all wet in my pocket,” Daisy whispered. She didn’t care if he thought she was useless right now.

  “It’s going to be OK,” he muttered. “I’ll get you out. Or if I can’t, I’ll run home and call nine-nine-nine.” He stepped forwards cautiously and gave a relieved sigh as the ground under him held. “I thought maybe one of the other ponies was hurt. Mum’s at work and Dad’s out checking on the cows, so I thought I’d better see what was wrong. And I didn’t think of bringing my phone, which was stupid. Not as stupid as you falling in a bog, though!”

  “Thanks for following her,” Daisy whispered. “She’s amazing. She’s like one of those hero dogs that saves people.”

  “Yeah. Hey, look, can you reach the stick now? If you stretch?”

  Daisy reached out. Her arms felt like bits of stone, heavy and lifeless. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to grip on to anything, even if she could reach.

  “A bit more,” Jack coaxed. “Come on!” Then he sighed. “No? OK. Wait a minute. Hey, careful!” That was to Em, who was nudging him. “You’ll have me in it too.” But then he looked consideringly at the pony for a moment and grabbed hold of a chunk of her white mane.

  “I’m not sure how long she’s going to let me do this,” he called to Daisy, stepping forward and leaning right out over the treacherous bright moss. “Especially when we start pulling. We’d better be fast. Grab on!”

  Daisy heaved herself forwards with one last desperate effort and caught the stick in both hands. It was amazing the difference it made, having something to pull against. She could make her feet move! She felt the mud easing its grip with a dreadful sucking sound, and then she was half stumbling, half crawling out of the mire and falling against Em and Jack.

  “You look disgusting. Like some sort of swamp monster. Ugh, and you smell. You’re getting it all over me – yuck!”

  Daisy didn’t care. She almost wanted to hug him. She did stagger up and hug Em, until she realized she was leaving more mud on the pony’s white coat. “Oh, sorry…” she said, trying to brush it off, but she was only making it worse. Em stood solidly, letting Daisy lean against her.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jack said. “I’ll brush it off for her.” Then he looked at Daisy worriedly. “Are you crying?”

  “No…” She was, actually, but she wasn’t sure why. It was silly to be crying now, when everything was OK.

  “You’d better keep holding on to her,” Jack suggested. “She won’t mind. I’d say ride her back home but she’s never been broken for riding. Put your arm round her neck.” He tutted as Daisy just stood there and grabbed her arm, putting it round Em’s neck for her. “There. Come on, good girl.” He clicked his tongue, coaxing Em on, but Daisy didn’t think he was making much difference. Em was walking anyway, slowly, surely, letting Daisy stumble along beside her.

  They were on the heathland, about to take the path through the trees to the back of Daisy’s house when her dad found them. He came racing out of the trees and grabbed her, swinging her up and hugging her so tight she yelped.

  “What happened? Where have you been? Daisy, we were so worried!” He shifted her round so she was sitting on his hip, like he did with Chloe, and Daisy laid her head on his shoulder. She was just too tired to explain. “Look at the state of you…”

  “She stepped in one of the boggy patches,” Jack said. He was looking a bit nervous, as if he thought Daisy’s dad was going to tell him off.

  “Jack and Em rescued me,” she muttered wearily. “Em’s the pony. She went and got Jack. Oh, Dad… My phone got wet in the bog. I’m really sorry.”

  “Oh wow.” Dad shook his head. “Wow, Daisy. You’re not supposed to go beyond the stream without someone with you. We should never have let you go out on your own.”

  “I didn’t … I was just next to the stream… Why aren’t you at work?” Daisy said, suddenly looking up.

  “Because Mum called me in a panic when you didn’t turn up for lunch and you weren’t answering your phone! I was on my way back to the house to tell her we had to call the police!”

  “Oh…” Daisy tried to wriggle away and stand up but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “Sorry… Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. I was scared. I am scared, now, thinking about it.”

  “I’ll pay for a new phone myself out of my pocket money,” Daisy said hesitantly.

  “I don’t care about the phone.” Her dad rested his chin on her hair for a moment. Then he looked back at Jack. “Do your parents know where you are?”

  “Um, not exactly. My dad was out with his cows. I left him a note on the table saying I was going to check on Snowball. That’s what we call her,” he explained, nodding at Em. “She belongs to my dad. Em’s Daisy’s name for her.”

  Daisy sighed into her dad’s sleeve. She still thought Em was better.

  “OK. Look, you’d better come home with us, have a hot drink, and we can call your dad and let him know everything’s OK. Come on.” He set Daisy down on her feet again but he was holding on to her, his arm wrapped tightly round her shoulders.

  Jack started to follow but Em stayed by the first of the trees. She gazed after them for a moment, then she lowered her head and started to graze.

  “She’s not coming?” Daisy sighed.

  “I’ll
find her later and brush the mud off her,” Jack said. “I can bring her a treat. Some apples maybe.”

  “She deserves more than apples,” Dad said, and Daisy nodded. She watched Em as they walked away, quietly eating the grass, as if she didn’t think she’d done anything all that special.

  There was a disbelieving sort of silence on the other end of the phone, and then Mara said, “You actually fell right in? All the way? Not just lost a welly kind of falling in the bog?”

  “Yup. Up to my waist. And then I sank further in. I did lose a welly too. But my feet were so cold I couldn’t feel them by the time I got out. I didn’t notice till I got home!”

  “But how did you get out? You didn’t have to call the fire brigade, did you?” Mara asked. She was starting to sound worried now. “I put a foot in once and it was awful.”

  “Jack and Em pulled me out.”

  “No! You’re not serious?” Mara squealed. “Jack rescued you?”

  “It was more Em really. She went and fetched him – she was amazing! She’s the cleverest pony ever.”

  “Hang on, you mean Jack wasn’t with you to start with?”

  “No,” Daisy explained patiently, and she began the story again, with Mara interrupting every other sentence. Daisy felt like she’d told loads of people about it now – Dad, Mum, Jack’s dad when he came to pick Jack up, Chloe and Oscar about six times… Even Betsy seemed to have worked out that something had happened. The little dog was snuggled up against Daisy now, looking watchful. “She went to his back gate and she made him follow her.”