Read Online Blossoms on the Roof by Rebecca Martin - Free Book Online Page B

After a while Father said, “I guess this team is not meant for so much plowing. Maybe we’ll have to sell Jasper and Rob and buy a team of oxen instead.”
    Ben’s face turned pale, and Polly wailed, “Oh, no.”
    Father tried again. “Come on, Jasper. Get up!”
    Suddenly they heard a voice saying, “I see you’re havinga bit of trouble.” It came from Bill McLellan, who was running across the field toward them.
    Bill and Father grasped Jasper’s harness and tried to help him to his feet, but Jasper just lay there with a glazed look in his eyes.
    Father told Bill, “We may have to sell the team and buy a yoke of oxen.”
    Bill looked at Ben, then at Polly, and then at Father. “You’d be sorry to lose this team, wouldn’t you?”
    All three of them nodded.
    Bill exclaimed, “Well, you certainly can’t sell a team if one of the horses is down.” Once more they coaxed and pulled. At last Jasper struggled to his feet.
    â€œListen,” said Bill, stroking the trembling horse. “I own a yoke of oxen that’s not being used much because I hadn’t planned on plowing this spring. I did lots last year. If you’re willing to loan me these horses, I’d lend you my oxen.”
    A smile lit Father’s face. “Just what we need for now! Later we’d be glad to have the horses back.”
    â€œSo, shall we lead the horses to my place now?” Bill suggested. “Here’s another good thing. I have some oats from last year’s crop. Your team needs a good feed of oats. Oxen are different. They can go for a long time on a diet of prairie hay.”
    â€œAll right, Jasper and Rob,” said Father. “Here we go to the McLellans. It’s not much farther than home would be.”
    Polly felt a little bit sad as she followed the dapple-gray team to the neighbors. At least they were not going far—and they were not being sold.
    One of Bill’s oxen was red and white, and the other was black and white. “The red one is Roland, and the black one is Trim,” Bill told them. “They’re both quite good-natured—for oxen, that is.”
    Father said thank you and drove homeward with the oxen yoked together by their wooden yoke.
    â€œI wonder why Bill said that,” said Ben. “I wonder why he said they’re quite good-natured—for oxen, that is.”
    â€œWe’ll probably find out,” replied Father with a wry smile.

12
    Firewood and Indians
    B en shaded his eyes against the early-morning sun. From his perch beside Father on the wagon, he spied a flash of silver beyond the waving prairie grass. “What’s that, Father? It must be a lake.”
    â€œYes, Ben, I think that’s Island Lake. Looks like a good spot to go fishing.”
    Ben almost jumped from the seat. “Can we stop now and catch some fish? Mother would be glad for fish.”
    Father shook his head. “We’ll have to come some other time. We must get to the forest as fast as we can if we want to be home before tomorrow night.”
    Ben settled down again, but he kept his eyes on the gleaming lake as long as he could. Dreamily he thought how it would be if he and Father and Flip—maybe even Polly—could go fishing someday.
    â€œWhoa!” said Father suddenly. “Do you need a ride?”
    At first Ben couldn’t figure out to whom Father was speaking. Then he saw a stranger on the other side of the wagon. The man wore a slouchy felt hat pulled far down over his eyes. His beard was a dirty yellow color. His coat and trousers were old and worn.
    In answer to Father’s question, the man said, “Yes, if you’re heading for the forest.” Without another word, he clambered over the side of the wagon and sat down beside Father.
    â€œWill you be cutting firewood too?” Father asked politely as Jasper and Rob—which Father had borrowed back from Bill