by Terri Farley
Darby considered the forest through Hoku’s eyes. There was nothing to her right or left but trees. Together, Darby and the filly looked over their shoulders.
Behind them, open space looked far away. Its brightness shrank with each step they took.
Overhead, there was a ceiling of leaves, branches, and suddenly quiet birds, but no sky.
Chills prickled down Darby’s arms. As soon as they were encircled by trees, Hoku would expect trouble.
And Darby was pretty sure she wasn’t up to leading a paranoid horse.
“We have to use our other senses, like Tutu said.” Darby tried to sound sympathetic.
Hoku didn’t care what Tutu had said. She kept her hooves planted in place.
“When did you start balking?” Darby asked. Then, thinking her voice sounded too loud for the forest, she whispered, “This is Wild Horse Island, girl!”
Hoku wouldn’t even look at her, until she tried to say the name in Hawaiian: “Moku Lio Hihiu.”
Hoku’s muzzle swung toward her so quickly, Darby had to duck out of her way.
“Moe-coo Lee-oh He-he-oo,” she repeated, pretty sure she was pronouncing it right.
Of course horses couldn’t skip, but Hoku made a skipping movement of delight just the same.
“Moe-coo Lee-oh He-he-oo,” Darby said again, and when she continued walking, Hoku followed her.
The ground crunched. Hoku sniffed the forest floor, which was littered with round, penny-colored leaves. When the filly tried to nibble some purplish-black berries that were so shiny Darby could see the sorrel reflected in them, Darby pulled her away.
Even if Hawaiian plants had lost their poison and prickles, Darby wasn’t sure they were safe for horses.
To distract the filly, Darby took a noisy breath, swelling out her chest, then exhaled just as loudly.
“I smell hay,” she told her horse. “Don’t you?”
Hoku’s ears pricked up. Her eyes widened. Jogging, she towed Darby into the rain forest, to their temporary home.
Ferns grazed Darby’s shoulders as she ducked to look into the wooden shelter. A sleeping bag, supplies, and hay were stacked inside a lean-to made of flat boards. They met at the top to make a triangular hut about four feet tall.
“I dub you the House of Ferns,” Darby said melodramatically, but Hoku wasn’t interested. The filly was thirsty, and once she saw that no other horse was munching her hay, Hoku tugged Darby toward the stream.
Even if Tutu hadn’t told her the camp was rarely used, Darby would have known. Only a few hoofprints marked the damp dirt around the stream. She guessed they’d been stamped there by the roan, Cade’s Appaloosa Joker, and some smaller animal with split hooves.
Maybe a fawn, she thought, smiling.
Holding the lead rope tightly, Darby knelt a few feet upstream from her horse. Once they’d finished drinking, Darby stood up to watch Hoku.
The filly surveyed this new place. Darby could tell Hoku felt better with a little open space around her, but the filly’s ears flashed in all directions, then pointed toward the corral.
Despite the comforting aroma of hay, Hoku didn’t like the look of those fences.
“Hey, Hoku girl, let’s see if I can lead you, carry hay, and open that gate, all at the same time,” Darby said.
It didn’t seem likely, so Darby decided to put Hoku in the corral first. Darby fumbled with the gate’s lock, trying to peel off the tendrils of morning-glory vines that held it closed. Once the gate opened, Hoku shied, almost jerking the rope from Darby’s hand.
“No problem, beauty,” Darby said. With dusk closing in, she couldn’t take the chance that the filly would break away. “Let’s go get some food first.”
Once they were close enough, Hoku nosed Darby out of the way, trying to grab a mouthful of hay.
“Don’t be rude,” Darby ordered the filly. Hoku blinked as if she had no idea what Darby was talking about, but she let Darby grab a flake of hay and hold it against her chest.
Sweet rumbling came from the filly as they returned to the corral. She walked fast now that she knew the hay was hers. Standing on tiptoe, Darby thrust the flake up, balanced it for a second on the top rail, and blinked against the hay dust sifting into her eyes, then tipped it over and inside the corral.
Hoku lowered her head, flattened her cheek to the ground, and slid her nose under the bottom rail. Darby laughed as the filly extended her tongue, tried to catch a stem of hay, and failed.
“Ready to go inside for some dinner?” Darby asked. Sighing, the sorrel followed Darby into the corral.
“Good girl,” Darby said. She unclipped the lead rope to let the filly eat.
While Hoku ate, Darby returned to the lean-to and made the most of the remaining daylight. First, she shook out her sleeping bag, just as Megan had suggested. Next, she pumped fuel into a lantern as Jonah had taught her. Once she had the lantern glowing in the twilight, Darby sorted through the food Auntie Cathy had packed.
Since Darby hadn’t trusted herself to use a camp stove—she had visions of burning down the forest—most of her food was snack stuff. Besides the fresh ham and cheese sandwich for dinner, there were six coconut cookies, a big packet of jerky, a smaller one of macadamia nuts, crunchy granola, three apples, a freeze-dried fruit-and-cinnamon-crumb mixture called Peach Pie Pak, and envelopes of powdered drink mix that she’d add to water.
Under it all, she found a huge bar of milk chocolate. The slab of candy was as thick as her hand and about twice as long.
“Oh, yeah. Thank you, Auntie Cathy,” Darby said, but she decided to save the candy for an emergency boost of energy, and hid it from herself.
“I’m set,” Darby said with a nod.
Even though she was sure Auntie Cathy would send more food with the first person who came to check on her, she felt prepared to stay here alone. In fact, looking around the clearing, Darby felt a little territorial.
For company, she had Hoku and that other horse. Tutu was only fifteen minutes away. Maybe less, if she crossed on that log over the lava field.
Darby felt almost at home. She could live off her few provisions and never miss the company of other people.
Before she started thinking like her great-grandmother, Darby decided she wouldn’t mind a visit from Megan, or Heather. Or Samantha Forster.
“Yes!” Darby said, and Hoku’s head jerked up. “It’s okay, girl.”
She’d love for the Nevada cowgirl to see that the Phantom’s sister wasn’t the frightened, desperate horse she’d been in the winter.
Right now, for instance, Hoku was sniffing around for a last bit of dinner. Sam wouldn’t be surprised at proof of the mustang’s ability to adapt, but Darby would bet she’d be proud.
Darby crawled into her sleeping bag and turned off the lantern. Blackness surrounded her, but she immediately blotted out all forest sounds with a yawn. Her hours of riding and hiking caught up with her, and she fell asleep.
In her dream, Darby sat on the Sun House lanai, telling her mother of her Hawaiian adventures. As she did, a voice boomed out like a movie ad for coming attractions, saying, “Season of the cave spider!”
Darby woke kicking. She tried to pull her legs clear of the sleeping bag, but only managed to hit her knees against her chin before rolling out of the lean-to and knocking the lantern over.
“Fire,” she gasped, but she’d turned off the lantern before she’d fallen asleep. And she couldn’t have dozed for more than a few minutes, because the lantern’s wick hadn’t lost all of its glow.
Darby wiggled free of her sleeping bag, then stood and listened.
What had wakened her?
Not Hoku. Darby could just pick out her filly’s silhouette by the glint of her eyes. The mustang watched her, but she didn’t seem agitated.
Branches creaked in a warm wind.
The spilled lantern fuel smelled like gasoline.
Leaves crunched and pricked her heels. Darby could not believe she’d gone to sleep barefoot.<
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Maybe her brain had been trying to remind her of happy-face spiders or cane spiders or tarantulas—did Hawaii have tarantulas?—because she’d heard of a dance called the tarantella that people did to flush out tarantula venom, and the way she was hopping around now, trying to tug her socks back on so that nothing crawled between her toes and bit her, she was probably doing it!
Mud. Darby held her breath at the sound of something walking in mud.
With her second sock safely stretched to her shin, she eased her foot down so that she wouldn’t tip over, and concentrated.
A squishy sound, like a foot pulling free of mud, came to her ears again.
Please, not Manny, she thought, but nothing as big as Cade’s creepy stepfather could move that way. She remembered the reek of perspiration coming from his tattooed and sweaty torso. Not only would she be able to smell him, Hoku would, too.
Darby heard no underlying plunk, like a horse hoof, splashing in the stream. And if it had been a horse, Hoku would have greeted it. Or warned it away from her hay.
No, the creature sounded too aimless. Equines didn’t blunder around, between the stream and stream bank.
A sucking sound reminded Darby of the third set of tracks beside the water. Smaller tracks, and she’d thought it was marks from a fawn.
A fawn!
How dumb are you? Darby asked herself. Have you seen a single deer on this island?
What else had cloven feet and moved around the forest in the dark?
Darby heard quarrelsome grunting, and suddenly she knew.
Chapter 5
If you think you hear one, you do.
That’s what Jonah had said about wild pigs. He’d also told her they gobbled down birds and rooted trenches that she could trip over.
Darby took a deep breath.
Calm down and think, she told herself.
But she couldn’t help wondering how pigs did that rooting. Her curiosity wasn’t the usual Discovery Channel variety, either. She pictured medieval tapestries with wild boars goring hounds and horses.
They couldn’t do that ripping with their snouts. They had tusks.
She bet Hawaiian pigs had tusks, too. If so, how long were they? Why hadn’t she asked more questions when Kit, Auntie Cathy, Jonah, Megan, Cade, and, shoot, everyone around her had warned her about pigs?
Still listening to the muddy meandering, Darby wondered why this pig didn’t move more stealthily. It was wild, or at least feral—a tame animal that lived free. It must have scented her and Hoku.
She stared into the darkness, wishing for just a pinch of Cade’s famous night vision.
She shook her head slowly, trying to figure out why the creature didn’t care if she heard it. Finally, Darby guessed it was possible that the wild pigs had no predators except for humans, and maybe this animal had sized her up as no threat.
It still didn’t seem right.
At last, the squelchy steps moved away. Leaves rustled, then the quiet night pressed in around her once more.
Darby longed for daylight. She wouldn’t fall back asleep, and she wanted to write down her questions about the pig.
Not that it had to be a pig. She didn’t really know what was out there in the dark, but she’d figure it out on her own. Otherwise, Jonah might make her return to the ranch before her time alone with Hoku was over.
E e vee. E e vee.
Darby awoke outside of her shelter. Curled up on one side, atop her sleeping bag, she yawned. Then she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes.
Nice bedroom ceiling, she thought, taking in the interlaced branches and leaves overhead.
A red bird bobbed next to a red flower in a treetop. The bird and flower matched exactly.
A wavy branch returned to the very base of the trunk instead of sprouting from a bigger branch. The branch next to it did the same thing, gliding up to point out the royal blue sky.
In April, it was as warm as summer.
Impatient hooves tapped the earth and Hoku nickered.
“I’ll be right there,” she almost sang to her horse.
Darby pointed her toes and stretched her ground-cramped legs.
It was Tuesday, but she had hours of freedom with her horse. Next week at this time, she’d be in school. Confined to a classroom.
Urgency replaced Darby’s dreaminess. She bolted to her feet and started getting dressed.
As she slipped off her jeans and replaced them with shorts, Darby checked her skin for spider bites.
Not one! So much for Cade’s warnings.
She slid her feet into tennis shoes and pulled the laces tight.
Her feet felt so light without boots that Darby skipped as she led Hoku to water.
Wavy marks showed where the stream had risen during the night, then receded. It must be fed by the ocean and respond to the tides, she thought, trying not to care that pig tracks the size of her palm were imprinted on the damp dirt. Hoku sniffed them, flattened her ears, and snorted, as if blowing the scent from her nostrils.
“You’ve never smelled a pig before!” Darby realized. “I’ll have to write to Sam and ask her, but I’ve never heard of wild pigs living with wild horses in Nevada.”
Darby tried to eat some granola before putting Hoku back in her corral, but the filly nudged at her hand and breathed in the smell of oats and honey.
“Hey, I want to eat my breakfast, not wear it,” Darby told her horse. When Hoku pulled back, wide-eyed at the girl’s sharp tone, Darby added, “You’re cute, but I’ll be training you to be a brat if I let you have it after you’ve been so pushy.”
Fending off the filly’s nose with her elbows, Darby ate a handful of granola before leading Hoku back to the corral.
There, she brushed Hoku all over, even her head, despite the filly’s glare.
“I know you don’t like me to touch your head,” Darby sympathized.
She still couldn’t imagine a man cruel enough to whip the young horse in the face, but Sam’s fax had hinted that it was likely Shan Stonerow had done just that. Jonah and Cade agreed that was the story the filly’s head-shyness told, too.
But Hoku was less fearful now. Darby could tell the filly wasn’t afraid, just annoyed because Darby wouldn’t do what she wanted, so Darby dusted the soft brush along Hoku’s golden nose until the horse bared her teeth.
“Don’t you do that!” she scolded the filly, then crowded in front of her and held both sides of her halter. “You know I’d never hurt you.”
Hoku rolled her eyes until the whites showed, then looked away, trying to duck behind her forelock. But she didn’t struggle or try to shake off Darby’s grip. When Darby didn’t move away, Hoku swished her tail as if she’d been misunderstood.
“Let’s try it again,” Darby said. She released her hold on the halter and began brushing Hoku’s face again. This time, only the skin on Hoku’s neck twitched.
“That’s better, baby,” she told her horse.
Jonah had told her to accustom Hoku to a variety of sounds and textures before trying her with a saddle blanket, so she tried rubbing the filly all over with a burlap grain sack Cade had stashed in the hut for just that purpose.
Hoku didn’t resist the burlap’s scratchiness. In fact, she leaned toward Darby’s hand as if the rough texture felt good.
“How about this?” Darby asked, trailing a piece of plastic bubble wrap over her horse. At first Hoku jumped away, but then she nudged the thing.
Hoku found no danger in it, but when the beautiful sorrel let her ears sag to each side, Darby laughed.
Hoku clearly thought bubble wrap was a really dumb idea, and she wanted Darby to know she was only tolerating it because Darby had asked her to do it.
“Good girl. I think you’re ready for a test,” Darby said.
She offered Hoku a clump of feathers to sniff.
It was the remains of an orange feather boa. Megan said her dog Pip had “played with it to death,” in protest over being left home alone.
Now, H
oku nosed the feathers, licked them, then shook her head.
“Well, you’re not supposed to eat them,” Darby said.
Hoku didn’t like the feathers tickling her flank, but she only kicked out once, straight behind, to tell Darby.
A few seconds later, Darby dangled the feathers in front of Hoku, then drew them gently over the mustang’s face.
Hoku’s tongue thrust from her mouth as she watched Darby.
Hmm. Kit had told her to watch the filly for “mouthing.” If she licked her lips, it meant she was giving in, like a foal to its mother. But Hoku wasn’t licking, she was just trying to clean bits of fluff from her lips.
Finally, the horse sighed and her muscles looked looser, less tense.
That’s trust, Darby thought.
“And it’s good enough for me,” she told Hoku.
Then she gave her horse a hug.
Darby’s arms had just joined around Hoku’s neck when a voice spoke from the forest.
“Make her into a pet, and you’re going to be sorry.”
Darby whirled toward the sound.
It had to be Jonah, but what was he doing here?
The filly didn’t bolt or buck. Far less spooked than Darby, she simply sidestepped a few yards away.
“Pretty good,” Darby told Hoku, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Then she marched over to the gate, leaving the corral to go tell Jonah what she thought of his surprise.
She would have, that is, if she knew where he was hiding.
The birds had stopped flitting around and calling, so they’d heard him, too, but that didn’t help.
Too stubborn to ask where he was, Darby stood with her hands on her hips until Jonah said, “I don’t want her to see me. Keep her focused on you.”
She followed the voice and found her grandfather. He stood beside a stone so bearded with lichen, it looked like an old man.
Jonah seemed relieved that she’d made it through the night and Darby longed to tell him about the owl in Tutu’s cottage, the log over the gully, and the pig in the night, but all that came out was, “I’m not making Hoku into a pet.”
