Read Online The Quicksand Pony by Alison Lester - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alison Lester
Tags: Juvenile Fiction
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trunk and slipped into the scrub. He wriggled through the tea-tree and swordgrass until he was beside the packhorse.
âHey, boy. How you doing?â Blue whinnied in recognition as Joe rested his head against the old horseâs neck. He loved the feel of horses. They were so big and warm, so gentle. They smelt good. He felt under the flap on the pack-saddle. Oats, rope, pans, no, that wasnât what he was looking for. He felt in another pocket. Yes! His hand closed around a small, flat slab. Chocolate!
Joe stayed beside the old horse all afternoon, sucking on the chocolate bar, and watching the girl. He really liked the look of her and her little horse. It would be good to just step out of the bush and talk.
When Lorna drove her mob of steers into the clearing, his heart gave a little skip. He was pleased to see her, even if she didnât know he existed. He listened greedily to their conversation. So this was Biddy! And Lorna was her mum. He nearly burst trying to hold in his giggles when they started talking about Blue, and what was spooking the cattle.
He shadowed the cattle back to the holding yards, moving through the bush like a whisper. Top and Nugget came to him when the mob was moving quietly, wagging their tails and licking his hands. They were old friends. A whistle came and they raced away. Joe could hear them barking and the drovers shouting. âHere! Push up! Thatâs enough. Come here. Come here!â He ran ahead and climbed the stony ridge that overlooked the holding yards, so he was very close to the cattle and riders as they passed below.
âThey look guilty. Donât you think, Biddy? Those two dogs have been up to no good.â Lorna reached over to Biddy and patted her back. âTheyâve been nicking off ever since we left the flat. I wonder . . . â
Biddy didnât answer. She looked tired, worn out. He knew that feeling. Sometimes when Joycie had taken him on a long dayâs hunting, heâd felt like that at the end of the day. Sometimes mums didnât realise how tired you got.
Joe leaned against Blue, soaking up his body heat. He gazed into the fire from the darkness. Biddy had been asleep for ages, snoring in her swag. Her parents sat together, their faces shining in the glow of the coals.
âI have to do it,â he thought. âI have to go up and talk to them.â The thought of them going back up the beach without him made him feel sick. He didnât want to be left behind on the headland. He didnât want to be all alone. It might be scary back at the town, but it would be better than this. His hands plaited and fiddled with the old horseâs mane as his mind raced. Joycie had taught him all sorts of fancy plaits.
He thought about Devil, about his house. If he went out to Lorna and Dave now, they mightnât let him go back to the gully. And he had to. All his things were there. The comics, the books, the blue-and-silver tin . . . If he went there now, he could be back by tomorrow morning. And then he could come out of the bush and say . . . what? âMy name is Joe.â Maybe heâd just stand there.
He wriggled forward to where the pack-saddle lay on the ground and felt through the food bag. His hand closed around a packet of bacon. Mmm, heâd had this before, from the store. Heâd go home, have a farewell feast with Devil, get his things, and be back by morning.
The moon disappeared behind the ridge just as he dropped into his gully. Lucky it lasted so long, he thought. The walk had been hard, but it would have been much worse in pitch dark. He was so tired. He moved like a zombie through the gloom. A shadow detached itself from the house and moved towards him.
âDevil. Good boy.â He crouched down and hugged the dingo to him. Devil sniffed and stepped back. A low growl rose from his throat. âHey, donât be like that. IÂ havenât brought the dogs with me. Itâs just their
âHey, boy. How you doing?â Blue whinnied in recognition as Joe rested his head against the old horseâs neck. He loved the feel of horses. They were so big and warm, so gentle. They smelt good. He felt under the flap on the pack-saddle. Oats, rope, pans, no, that wasnât what he was looking for. He felt in another pocket. Yes! His hand closed around a small, flat slab. Chocolate!
Joe stayed beside the old horse all afternoon, sucking on the chocolate bar, and watching the girl. He really liked the look of her and her little horse. It would be good to just step out of the bush and talk.
When Lorna drove her mob of steers into the clearing, his heart gave a little skip. He was pleased to see her, even if she didnât know he existed. He listened greedily to their conversation. So this was Biddy! And Lorna was her mum. He nearly burst trying to hold in his giggles when they started talking about Blue, and what was spooking the cattle.
He shadowed the cattle back to the holding yards, moving through the bush like a whisper. Top and Nugget came to him when the mob was moving quietly, wagging their tails and licking his hands. They were old friends. A whistle came and they raced away. Joe could hear them barking and the drovers shouting. âHere! Push up! Thatâs enough. Come here. Come here!â He ran ahead and climbed the stony ridge that overlooked the holding yards, so he was very close to the cattle and riders as they passed below.
âThey look guilty. Donât you think, Biddy? Those two dogs have been up to no good.â Lorna reached over to Biddy and patted her back. âTheyâve been nicking off ever since we left the flat. I wonder . . . â
Biddy didnât answer. She looked tired, worn out. He knew that feeling. Sometimes when Joycie had taken him on a long dayâs hunting, heâd felt like that at the end of the day. Sometimes mums didnât realise how tired you got.
Joe leaned against Blue, soaking up his body heat. He gazed into the fire from the darkness. Biddy had been asleep for ages, snoring in her swag. Her parents sat together, their faces shining in the glow of the coals.
âI have to do it,â he thought. âI have to go up and talk to them.â The thought of them going back up the beach without him made him feel sick. He didnât want to be left behind on the headland. He didnât want to be all alone. It might be scary back at the town, but it would be better than this. His hands plaited and fiddled with the old horseâs mane as his mind raced. Joycie had taught him all sorts of fancy plaits.
He thought about Devil, about his house. If he went out to Lorna and Dave now, they mightnât let him go back to the gully. And he had to. All his things were there. The comics, the books, the blue-and-silver tin . . . If he went there now, he could be back by tomorrow morning. And then he could come out of the bush and say . . . what? âMy name is Joe.â Maybe heâd just stand there.
He wriggled forward to where the pack-saddle lay on the ground and felt through the food bag. His hand closed around a packet of bacon. Mmm, heâd had this before, from the store. Heâd go home, have a farewell feast with Devil, get his things, and be back by morning.
The moon disappeared behind the ridge just as he dropped into his gully. Lucky it lasted so long, he thought. The walk had been hard, but it would have been much worse in pitch dark. He was so tired. He moved like a zombie through the gloom. A shadow detached itself from the house and moved towards him.
âDevil. Good boy.â He crouched down and hugged the dingo to him. Devil sniffed and stepped back. A low growl rose from his throat. âHey, donât be like that. IÂ havenât brought the dogs with me. Itâs just their
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