A CHAPTER ON PONIES.
It was a proud day for Bert when he came home from school, bearing a
handsome volume of Captain Gordon Cumming's Adventures in Africa, and he
felt as though he could scarcely wait for his father's return from the
office, so eager was he to show him his prize. As it was, he watched
impatiently for him, and so soon as he came in sight rushed toward him,
holding the book above his head, and shouting:
"I've won it. I've won the prize."
The Lloyds were all quite as proud as Bert himself over his success, and
they made a very merry quartette as they sat around the dinner-table
that evening.
"Dear me! I suppose I'll have to keep my promise now, though it takes my
last cent to pay for it," said Mr. Lloyd, with a pretence of looking
rueful.
"Indeed you will, father. I'm not going to let you off, of that you may
be sure," exclaimed Bert, gleefully, knowing very well that his father
was only in fun, and that it would take the cost of a good many ponies
to reach his last cent.
"Well, then, sir, since you insist upon it, may I venture to inquire
what sort of a pony you would like."
"Oh, I don't know, father."
"I suppose you're not very particular, Bert, so long as he'll let you
stay on his back," said Mr. Lloyd, smiling.
"That's about it, father," assented Bert.
"Be sure and get a nice, quiet pony that won't run away with Bert, or
give him a nasty kick some time," interposed Mrs. Lloyd, with an anxious
look, as she contemplated the possibility of some accident happening to
her darling.
"Never fear, mother, I'll make sure of that," answered Mr. Lloyd, with a
reassuring smile. "And for that very reason," he continued, addressing
himself to Bert, "I may be some time in finding one just to suit. So you
must be patient, my little man, and be willing to wait, so that when
your pony does come, he may be a good one."
As it turned out, Bert had to wait several months, and the chill winter
had given way to the warm sunshine of spring, and the boy's patience had
almost given way altogether, when at last his father, on coming home one
evening, announced, to his immense joy, that after much searching he had
secured a pony that thoroughly suited him, and that this equine treasure
would be brought to the house the next morning early.
If Bert was too much excited to sleep for more than half-an-hour at a
time that night, who cannot sympathise with him? And if, when he did
fall into a troubled doze, he had nightmare visions which soon woke him
up again, who would dare laugh at him? In all his young life he had
never been in such a fever of expectation, and long before dawn he was
wide awake, with no hope of again closing his eyes, and tossed and
tumbled about until it was light enough to get up and dress himself.
As soon as he had dressed he went down to the barn to assure himself for
the twentieth time that the little stall was in perfect readiness; that
there was no lack of oats in the bin or hay in the loft; that the
brand-new halter was hanging in its place, waiting to be clasped upon
the head of the coming pony, and thus he managed to while away the time
until the breakfast bell rang.
The pony was to arrive shortly after breakfast, and, hungry as he was,
Bert could scarcely be persuaded to taste his porridge, toast, or
coffee, and he made the others laugh by jumping up to run to the door at
the slightest suspicion of a sound in the street. At length, just when
he had settled down again after one of these excursions, the door bell
rang vigorously. Bert rushed through the hall, opened the door, and
immediately there was a glad shout of "Hurrah! Here he is! Isn't he a
beauty?" which brought the whole family to the door, and there they
beheld the overjoyed boy with his arms clasped tightly round the neck
of a brown pony that seemed to quite appreciate this little
demonstration, while the groom looked on with a superior smile at Bert's
enthusiasm.
The pony was indeed a beauty. He was of a rich brown colour, without a
white spot upon him, just high enough for Bert to see comfortably over
his back, and as round and plump as the best master could wish. His head
was small and perfectly shaped, his neck beautifully arched, and he had
large brown eyes that looked out upon the world with an intelligence
almost human. He had the highest testimonials as to soundness of wind
and limb, and sweetness of temper, and was altogether just the very kind
of a pony to make a boy happy.
And yet all of his good points have not been recounted. He had a list of
accomplishments quite as long as his list of virtues, for at some
previous stage of his life he had, on account of his beauty and great
docility, been put in training for the circus; and although for some
reason or other he had never got so far as to make his appearance in the
saw-dust arena, he had been taught a great many tricks, and these he was
generally willing to perform, provided an apple or lump of sugar were
held out as a reward.
All this the groom explained while they were standing at the door, and
then the pony, having been sufficiently introduced, was led round to the
yard, and duly installed in his corner of the stable, Bert clinging as
close to him as if he feared he had wings like the fabled Pegasus,
and might fly away if not carefully watched.
[Illustration: "The pony was a beauty, just high enough for Bert to see
comfortably over his back."--_Page_ 256.]
The days that followed were days of unalloyed happiness to Bert. He, of
course, had to learn to ride "Brownie," as the pony was christened by
Mary, to whom was referred the question of a name. But it was an easy
matter learning to ride so gentle and graceful a creature. First at a
walk, then at a trot, then at a canter, and finally at full gallop, Bert
ere long made the circuit of the neighbouring squares; and as he became
more thoroughly at home he extended his rides to the Point, where there
were long stretches of tree-shaded road that seemed just intended for
being ridden over.
The best of it was that, as Bert prophesied, the wish being in his case
father to the thought, Mr. Bowser did follow Mr. Lloyd's example.
"I reckon I can stand a pony for my boy about as well as Lawyer Lloyd
can for his," said he to himself, pressing his hand upon a fat wallet in
his pocket, after Frank had been earnestly petitioning him, without
eliciting any favourable response. "There's no point in Frank's going on
foot while Bert's on horseback. I must see about it."
He gave poor disappointed Frank, however, no hint of what he had in
mind; and then one day he made him fairly wild with delight, by sending
home a pretty bay pony with a star in his forehead, which, although he
was not quite as handsome or accomplished as "Brownie," was an
excellent little animal, nevertheless. Oh, what proud, happy boys the
two friends were, the first day they rode out together! It was a lovely
afternoon, not too warm to make it hard upon the ponies, and they rode
right round the Point, and along the road skirting the arm of the sea,
going much farther than Bert had ever been before; now pattering along
the smooth dry road at a rattling pace, and now jogging on quietly with
the reins hanging loosely on the ponies' necks. If Bert's pony knew the
more tricks, Frank's showed the greater speed, so they both had
something to be especially proud of, and were content accordingly.
Brownie's performances were very amusing indeed, and after he and his
young master had become thoroughly acquainted, he would go through them
whenever called upon to do so. Often when the Lloyds had guests, they
would entertain them by having Bert put Brownie through his programme.
Then the cute little fellow would be at his best, for he evidently
enjoyed an appreciative audience quite as much as they did his feats. He
would begin by making a very respectful bow to the spectators, lifting
his pretty head as high as he could, and bringing it down until his nose
touched his breast. He would then, as commanded, "say his prayers,"
which he did by kneeling with his forefeet, and dropping his head upon
his knees; "knock at the door," which meant going up to the nearest
door, and knocking at it with his hoof until some one opened it; "walk
like a gentleman"--that is, rear up on his hind legs, and walk up and
down the yard; "go to sleep," by lying down and shutting his big brown
eyes tight; shake hands by gracefully extending his right hoof; allow a
cap to be placed on his head, and then sidle up and down the yard in the
most roguish way; and other little tricks no less amusing, which never
failed to elicit rounds of applause from the delighted spectators.
There were many ways in which Brownie endeared himself to every member
of the Lloyd family. If Mrs. Lloyd or Mary happened to come into the
yard when, as often happened, he was roaming about loose, he would go up
to them and rub his nose gently against their shoulder, thus saying as
plainly as could be, "Haven't you got a crust for me?" and the moment
Mr. Lloyd showed himself, Brownie's nose would be snuffing at his coat
pockets for the bit of apple or lump of sugar that rarely failed to be
there. As for his bearing toward Bert, it showed such affection,
obedience, and intelligence, that it is not to be wondered at, if the
boy sometimes asked himself if the "Houyhnhnms" of Gulliver's Travels
had not their counterpart in nature, after all.
Great, then, was the concern and sorrow when, after he had been just a
year with them, Brownie fell sick, and the veterinary surgeon said that
he must be sent away to the country to see if that would make him well
again. Bert sobbed bitterly when the little invalid was led away. He
would have dearly loved to accompany Brownie, but that could not be
managed, so there was nothing for it but to wait patiently at home for
the news from the sick pony.
Unhappily, the reports were not cheering. Each time they were less
hopeful, and at last one dull rainy day that Bert was long in
forgetting, the farmer came himself to say that despite his utmost care
dear little Brownie had died, and was now buried beneath a willow tree
in a corner of the pasture. Poor Bert! This was the first great grief of
his life. Had Brownie been a human companion, he could hardly have felt
his loss more keenly or sorrowed more sincerely. The little, empty
stall, the brass-mounted bridle, and steel-stirruped saddle hanging up
beside it, brought out his tears afresh every time he looked upon them.
Frank did his best to console him by offering him the use of his pony
whenever he liked; but, ah! though "Charlie" was a nice enough pony, he
could not fill the blank made by Brownie's loss.
In the meantime Mr. Lloyd had been making diligent inquiry about a
successor to Brownie, and had come to the conclusion to await the annual
shipment from Sable Island, and see if a suitable pony could not be
picked out from the number. The announcement of this did much to arouse
Bert from his low spirits, and as Mr. Lloyd told him about those Sable
Island ponies he grew more and more interested. They certainly have a
curious history. To begin with, nobody knows just how they got on that
strange, wild, desolate, sand bank that rises from the ocean about a
hundred miles to the east of Nova Scotia. Had they the power of speech,
and were they asked to give an account of themselves, they would
probably reply with Topsy that "they didn't know--they 'spects they
grow'd." There they are, however, to the number of several hundred, and
there they have been ever since anybody knew anything about Sable
Island. And such a place for ponies to be! It is nothing but a bank of
sand, not twenty-five miles long, by about one and a-half wide, covered
here and there with patches of dense coarse grass, wild pea vine, and
cranberry swamps. There are no trees, no brooks, no daisied meadows, and
through all seasons of the year the ponies are out exposed to the
weather, whether it be the furious snow storms of winter, the burning
heat of summer, or the mad gales of the autumn.
Once a year the Government officials who live upon the island, having
charge of the lighthouses and relief stations, for it is a terrible
place for wrecks, have what the Western ranchmen would call a "round-up"
of the ponies. They are all driven into a big "corral" at one end of the
island, and the best of the younger ones carefully culled out, the rest
being set free again. Those selected are then at the first opportunity
put on board a ship and carried off to Halifax, where rough, shaggy,
ungroomed, and untamed, they are sold at auction to the highest
bidders.
It was one of these ponies that Mr. Lloyd proposed to purchase for Bert.
The latter was an expert rider now, and could be intrusted with a much
more spirited animal than dear, little Brownie. The arrival of the
annual shipment was accordingly looked forward to by both Bert and his
father with a good deal of interest, Bert wondering if on the whole
shipload there would be anything to compare with Brownie, and Mr. Lloyd
hoping that he would be able to obtain a pony big enough to carry him if
he felt in the humour for a ride on a bright summer morning.