Winter Pony

by Jean Slaughter Doty

  They all looked at the shaggy pony in silence.

  “But you could get a New Zealand rug,” said Michael. “It’s a special blanket made of canvas and lined with wool. It’s windproof and waterproof. It’s made to be worn as a turnout blanket. A plain stable blanket isn’t strong enough for this.”

  Ginny made a face. She had already learned this. She had let Mokey out into the paddock wearing her blanket one cold morning. By noon one of the webbing surcingles was torn. One of the two leather chest straps was broken. It had taken a week to have it fixed. She knew better than to do it again. The blanket came off before the pony went out.

  “I bet they’re expensive,” said Ginny.

  Michael nodded. “But they do last for many, many years.”

  Ginny frowned at Mokey. “I hope you’re worth all this,” she said. “I’ve been saving my allowance for a long time for a stereo. But I think I’d much rather have a New Zealand rug for Moke.” She got stiffly to her feet. “We’ve been trying to get her cooled out and dry for almost two hours. I just can’t bear the thought of ever having to go through this again. No matter how much fun it is to drive her in the sleigh!”

  “I’ll take her for a while,” said Michael. “She’s almost done.”

  Ginny was grateful. She followed Pam up to the house. The two girls curled up in front of an open fire in the study. They sipped steaming mugs of cocoa.

  “You know what?” said Ginny. She squinted her eyes and watched the steam curl up out of her mug. “It all looks so simple in the Christmas cards, doesn’t it? Jingle bells, put the pony to the sleigh and away we go. Nothing about harness-breaking the beasts. Or learning how to drive them. Or cooling them out and cleaning all that harness afterwards. Do you realize the hours we spent working for that one morning of sleighing?”

  She shook her head in wonder. “Not that it wasn’t worth it. It was wonderful. I can’t wait to go out again. But it does make you stop and think a little.” There was an old English coaching scene in a heavy gold frame over the fireplace. Ginny looked at it briefly and shuddered. “Four horses, can you imagine? All that muddy harness—”

  “And four hot, dirty horses to cool out and groom and put away,” Pam broke in with a smile. “Here, you’d better have another cookie. You still need enough energy left to ride Mokey home.”

  Chapter Six

  The New Zealand rug was ordered from the tack shop. After it had been delivered, Michael clipped Mokey.

  Without her shaggy winter coat, the pony looked very strange and bare to Ginny. And Mokey’s back was more slippery. Ginny found it was harder to stay on when she rode the pony home again in the late afternoon. Mokey wasn’t behaving very well. That didn’t help. Every time Ginny asked her to trot, the pony humped her back and skittered sideways. The first try at a canter sent Mokey off into a series of bucks and kicks. They almost put Ginny off.

  Mad and out of breath, Ginny quickly pulled Mokey back to a walk. The pony acted like something was bothering her, like a twisted girth. This didn’t make much sense. Ginny was riding bareback, as she always did.

  Ginny got home and turned Mokey out into her paddock. Then she understood what had been causing the problem. Mokey trotted unevenly across the paddock to her stall. Ginny could see that snow was kicking up from the pony’s hooves. It was tickling her on her newly clipped stomach. Ginny laughed out loud at the pony’s upset look. She knew that Mokey would soon get used to it.

  Wednesday was a half day at school. Pam had a piano lesson to make up. She couldn’t ride. Michael gave Ginny the message when she rode Mokey over to the Jennings stable. He then offered to spend the afternoon teaching Ginny how to harness her pony to the sleigh.

  It was warm and sunny in the sheltered stable yard. Mokey stood waiting. She was half asleep in the sun. Ginny played with the straps of the harness. Within a short time, they all made sense to her. She could harness and unharness the pony. Michael didn’t find a single mistake.

  Ginny finished up by driving the sleigh alone. She felt more and more sure of herself and of her pony. But the snow was getting soggy in the sun. The sleigh would no longer slide easily.

  “But we’re in great shape now,” Ginny told Michael. She finished cleaning the harness. Then she went into the tack room to put it away. “Mokey’s clipped. I know how to harness her to the sleigh by myself. All we need now is more fresh snow.”

  Ginny got her wish. Christmas vacation started with a two-day storm. The flurry and the excitement of the holidays slipped by quickly. It snowed again on New Year’s Eve. Ginny rode Mokey over to Pam’s the next morning. The sky was still dark with the look of more snow to come.

  Ginny found Pam stomping up and down the aisle of the stable. They had planned to go riding in the fresh snow that morning. But Firefly had gotten a cough during the night. Michael had told her that the pony could not be ridden. Then he had gone off to visit a friend.

  “Do you want to go out in the sleigh again, since you can’t ride Firefly today?” Ginny asked.

  Pam frowned. She kicked at a snowbank in the yard. “I guess so,” she said finally. “But it’s pretty boring now, isn’t it? I mean, just going back and forth in the lane and in the driveway. We’ve done that lots of times. I don’t see why we can’t take the sleigh out on the roads.”

  “Usually they’re plowed and salted,” Ginny told her. “And the snow melts too fast. Especially when the sun comes out. Then there’s not enough snow left for the sleigh.”

  “But there is today,” said Pam eagerly, “and it’s going to snow again. Come on, let’s do it. Think how much fun it would be.”

  Ginny hesitated. “I don’t think Michael would let us,” she said at last.

  “Oh, who cares?” said Pam. “He’s such a wet blanket. You know that. Don’t do this, Miss Pam. Don’t do that. Don’t ride your poor pony today. He’s got a little cough. Worry, worry, worry. That’s all he does.” She shook her short, curly hair impatiently. “Come on, Ginny, I’m so bored! There’s nothing else to do. We don’t have to go very far if you don’t want to.”

  Ginny straightened Mokey’s black forelock and smoothed it over the brow band.

  “Okay,” she said at last. After all, it was Pam’s sleigh, not her own. It seemed the least she could do, if Pam wanted it so badly. And Ginny had to admit that it was getting a little boring just driving around the Jennings place.

  Ginny pressed Mokey’s bridle reins into Pam’s hand. “I’ll go and get the harness,” she said.

  The runners of the red sleigh slipped easily over the packed snow on the road. Mokey reached lightly for the bit. She waved her long black tail. Then she made her stride longer. The silver bells on the harness made a brighter sound than they ever had before.

  The snow-laden branches of the trees arched over them. They spun along the narrow, winding road. There was no sound anywhere but the musical chiming of the bells and the hushed whisper of the runners on the snow. It began to snow again, softly. Time stood still. They had gone several miles. Suddenly Ginny saw how far they were from home.

  “We’d better find a place to turn around pretty soon,” she said. She brushed the snowflakes from her face. She pulled Mokey down to a walk. “The road’s too narrow here to turn a sleigh. That was great, wasn’t it?” She grinned at Pam. “This was a wonderful idea.”

  The road forked at the bottom of the hill. Ginny swept the sleigh around in a wide circle. She looked back with pride at the even marks the runners left in the snow. Mokey broke into a happy jog. This set the bells jingling softly. It was like they were singing to themselves.

  Pam sighed happily. “I heard somebody say once that whatever you do on New Year’s Day you’ll do all year long,” she said. “I sure hope the rest of the year is as much fun as this.”

  Ginny didn’t answer. Her hands gripped the reins. Something was wrong. Mokey had raised her head. Her back grew stiff. Her ears were pricked forward in alarm.

  “Hang on,” Ginny said to Pam in a tight
voice. “I don’t know what it is. But something is scaring Mokey.”

  The two girls knew in a moment. They heard what Mokey had heard a few seconds before. It was the low, muffled roar of a snow-plow. It was coming toward them.

  Pam’s face went white. She grabbed Ginny’s arm. “What are we going to do? We’re going to be killed!”

  “Let go of me!” Ginny said sharply. “I can’t drive with you hanging on to my arm!” She shortened the reins. Mokey had broken stride. She dropped back to an unsure walk.

  The snowplow was on the road somewhere ahead of them. It was hidden by a bend in the road. Mokey had broken out in a nervous sweat. Her head was moving from side to side. She kept trying to stop. Ginny knew that the scared pony was getting herself ready to turn around. She wanted to run away from the terrible roar. It was coming closer all the time. But with all the storms they’d been having, the banks were piled high on both sides of the road with plowed snow. There was just not enough room to turn the sleigh around.

  Chapter Seven

  The glowing headlights and flashing red warning lights of the plow came into view. They were at the far end of the road. Mokey reared in fright. Above the loud clashing sound of the harness bells, Ginny could hear Mokey’s hind shoes slipping. They cut through the snowy surface, down to the icy road underneath. For one scary moment, Ginny thought Mokey was losing her balance. She thought she was going to fall backward onto the sleigh.

  “Hang on!” Ginny cried to Pam. Mokey got her balance. She started to rear again. The bells jangled harshly. The thin driving whip whistled through the air, just once. Startled and surprised, Mokey pushed forward.

  The sleigh jolted and rocked. Ginny was shouting. Mokey was galloping straight toward the terrifying plow.

  They could see the white plumes of snow curling away from the wide blade of the plow. The flashing lights grew brighter through the falling flakes. Mokey was weaving crazily back and forth across the road. But Ginny was doing the only thing she could think of to do. She remembered having seen a driveway. It was not far ahead, just past a snow-heaped clump of rhododendron bushes. If she could keep Mokey going, they could reach the driveway in time to get out of the way of the plow.

  Mokey skidded to a sudden stop. She tried to rear again. Pam screamed. Ginny shouted. The pony pushed forward again. There was a low bank of snow across the opening to the drive. But there was no time to slow down. Ginny steadied her pony as well as she could. Then she swung her into the drive.

  There was silence. There was cold and darkness everywhere. Ginny lay very still. She couldn’t open her eyes. Everything was black. She was afraid to try to move.

  She heard the gentle chiming of bells. At least she knew that Mokey wasn’t lying dead in the snow with a broken neck. Dead ponies didn’t ring sleigh bells. Having decided this, Ginny felt better. She tried to sit up.

  No wonder everything was cold and dark. She’d landed facedown in a snowdrift. Ginny blinked. She brushed the snow from her face. She looked around quickly. She had to know what awful damage had been done.

  Pam was sitting in the snow next to Ginny. Her head was in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking under her red jacket.

  Ginny jumped to her feet in alarm. “What’s the matter? Where are you hurt?” she asked in a shaking voice. Muffled gasps and choking sounds came from Pam. She looked up at Ginny with tears in her eyes.

  “I never saw anything so funny in my life!” she said. Ginny realized with anger that Pam was laughing.

  Ginny spun around to see what was so funny. She didn’t know that she was covered from head to foot with snow. She looked like a walking snowman.

  Mokey was standing peacefully in the drifted driveway. Clouds of steam were rising from her sweaty sides. The red sleigh was half tipped over behind her. It was at a strange angle. The reins were curling in dark tangles all around her legs. She was pawing lightly at the snow to see if there was any grass to eat underneath.

  “I’m sorry, Ginny. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Pam giggled helplessly. “But you really looked so funny with your feet sticking up out of the snow. And wouldn’t you know Mokey would try to find something to eat at a time like this?”

  Still half angry, Ginny walked stiffly over to Mokey. The pony turned her head. She reached over to Ginny’s pocket, begging for a lump of sugar.

  Ginny dug in her pocket. She found the damp lump of sugar. Mokey had known it was there. She gave it to Mokey absently. Then Ginny looked the pony over. She checked the harness and the sleigh.

  Ginny took off one glove. She ran her hand over Mokey’s legs. She felt for cuts or bruises. She couldn’t find any. Pam looked sorry but was still giggling a little. She came to hold the pony. Ginny finished checking the sleigh. It took only a light push to set it back on its runners.

  “Lead Mokey forward a few steps to see if she’s all right,” Ginny told Pam. Mokey moved through the snow without any trouble. Ginny shrugged her shoulders.

  “Nothing seems to be wrong,” she said, almost crossly. She found she was yelling to be heard. The snowplow was going by the opening to the drive where they stood. The flashing lights made orange and red flickering patterns on the snow. Then it was gone. It left a high mound of white where the opening to the drive had been.

  “Oh, great!” Ginny said. She sounded mad. “Now what are we going to do? We’re going to be stuck in here until spring!”

  “The driver couldn’t have known we were in here,” Pam said. She pointed toward the plow. It roared as it was moving away. “I’m sure he never even saw us.”

  Ginny rubbed Mokey gently between her ears.

  “I’m sorry,” she said both to Mokey and to Pam. “I didn’t mean to sound so mad. I was so scared. I just couldn’t believe everything was all right.” Pam smiled. She understood. Ginny gave Mokey another lump of melting sugar. She squinted through the falling snow, taking in their problem.

  There was no question about it. They really did have a problem. Mokey and the sleigh were facing away from the road. The driveway where they stood had been plowed earlier in the winter, but not recently. The snow was knee-deep all the way to the house. The house was set so far from the road that they could barely see it.

  “It looks as though there’s just flat lawn next to the driveway,” said Pam. “We can’t ruin it with Mokey’s hooves at this time of year. The ground is too frozen. That house sits down in that little hollow. The snow may have drifted pretty deep. Maybe we should try to turn around right here.”

  Ginny looked at the level snow. She was doubtful.

  Anything could be hidden under the snow. A low wire fence. Or an old toy wagon. Or even a narrow, icy stream with sharp, rocky banks.

  She shivered. “We can’t stay here forever. Mokey’s getting cold. We’ll just have to try it and be very careful, I guess.”

  Pam walked ahead to feel for hidden obstacles under the snow. Ginny followed. She led Mokey. They made a wide circle. Then they proudly stopped where they’d started. But this time they were facing toward the road.

  “Now all we have to do is get from here to there,” said Ginny. She felt more cheerful. Then she had another long look at the high wall of fresh snow. It was between the pony and the road.

  Pam climbed up over the drift and then came back.

  “It’s soft,” she told Ginny. “At least it’s not icy, but it’s pretty deep. Do you think Mokey and the sleigh can get through?”

  It was Ginny’s turn to laugh. “I don’t think we have much choice,” she said. “We’re going to have to try.” She climbed into the sleigh. She took a deep breath. “You lead Mokey to get her started,” she said to Pam. “But be ready to jump out of the way if the sleigh tips over.”

  “Okay.” Pam patted Mokey. She clucked to the pony. Then she started toward the drift.

  Mokey pushed ahead. Pam cheered her on. The pony stopped when the snow suddenly started to get deeper. But she quickly pushed forward again.

  Mokey struggled through the deep d
rift. The sleigh rose up behind her. It looked like it was being lifted on the crest of a wave. The delicate sleigh rocked and swayed as it reached the top. For one awful moment, Ginny was sure it was going to tip over. But Pam steadied Mokey with her voice and her hands. The pony braced herself. The sleigh dipped forward. It slid gently and evenly down onto the freshly plowed road.

  “Wow” was all Ginny could say.

  Pam grinned. She got into the sleigh beside Ginny.

  “That must be what it’s like to launch a lifeboat in a storm,” she said.

  Mokey turned her head to look back at the two girls.

  “I think,” said Ginny, “she wants to go home.”

  “Great idea,” said Pam. Ginny pulled in the reins and clucked to her pony. Mokey set out at an even, smooth trot. The bells began their soft chime.

  It was cold enough so that the plow had left a thin layer of snow on the road. The runners bit through to the road surface with a grating sound. It made the two girls and the pony give a startled jump each time.

  It was with a huge sigh of relief that Ginny steadied Mokey back to a quiet walk. She turned her into the Jennings drive.

  “Not a word of this to Michael,” warned Pam.

  Ginny giggled. “Do you think I’m out of my mind?” she said. “Anyway, he doesn’t have to know we’ve even been off your place! We could have just been puttering around here as we always have before. Unless we tell him, how could he ever know?”

  Mokey was hot and tired. Ginny felt guilty. She let her walk slowly. She hoped the pony would look cool enough and rested by the time they reached the stable.

  “Yuck,” said Ginny under her breath. They started down the lane that led to the stable.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Pam.

  “Just look who’s there,” said Ginny. She nodded toward the stable-yard gates.

  “Uh-oh,” said Pam. “And I can tell, even from here, he’s really mad.”