Funday Times - Story

Legend of the Pony’s Tears

Chapter Twelve : The Pony’s Tears
A Quality Serials Story By Mary Maden, Illustrated By Vicki Wallace Copyright 2004 by Mary Maden. All rights reserved.

Little Wolf held his mother tight. She was gone. Never more would he feel her arms around him or see her beautiful face break into a smile. Never more would he hear her say, “Little Wolf, my son.” Little Wolf was alone.

Little Wolf’s mother was buried in a shallow grave beside the trail. Little Wolf was forced to move on. As the boy walked along the trail, he knew what he would do. Even though his aunt and uncle would take care of him, Little Wolf would not go west with them. He would go home! Little Wolf decided to return to the mountains and to his brother, the pony.

That night, when everyone was asleep, Little Wolf made his escape. He crept through the camp silent as a mouse. Little Wolf stayed in the shadows. He headed toward the far end of the camp. Little Wolf heard voices. The boy flattened himself against a wagon. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that he thought it might burst!

“It’s cold tonight,” a soldier said. “That’s the truth,” another soldier agreed. “Got any tobacky you can spare?” Little Wolf saw the flare of a match. Little Wolf waited in the darkness until he heard the voices fade. Being careful to avoid the soldiers on patrol, the boy moved on to the outskirts of the camp. Little Wolf moved silently toward a wooded area behind the camp. As soon as he reached the woods, he began to run.

The boy ran and ran. His feet flew swiftly over the frozen ground. Little Wolf ran faster and faster. Suddenly, Little Wolf’s foot caught on a big tree root. The boy fell hard, hitting his head on a rock. Little Wolf was dazed, but he got up. He felt a trickle of blood run down into his eyes. Despite his injury, the boy continued to run. He thought of his mountains and the pony. His thoughts gave him strength to keep going. All night Little Wolf ran.

The next morning, Little Wolf found a small stream. Little Wolf cupped his hands and drank greedily. The water tasted good! Little Wolf washed his face in the stream. “Ouch!” Little Wolf cried as he touched the cut above his forehead.

For six days and six nights, Little Wolf ran. On the seventh day, Little Wolf was lost. He felt feverish and confused. He didn’t know which way to go.

Little Wolf sat down to rest. He would just close his eyes for a second. When he opened his eyes again, there stood the Little People! Little Wolf didn’t know if what he was seeing was real or if it was a dream.
“We have come to help you, little one,” the small woman said softly.

“You must get up, Little Wolf,” the small man said. “Get up now,” said the older small man. Little Wolf rose to his feet. The Little People showed him a path to take. “Follow the path,” they said. “It will lead you home.” Before Little Wolf could thank the Little People, they had disappeared.

The boy followed the path that the Little People had shown him. It was very hard for the boy to keep running.

Suddenly, Little Wolf felt dizzy. He was burning up with fever. Little Wolf dropped to his knees. He could not go on!

Little Wolf’s thoughts turned to his brother, the pony. Little Wolf put his fingers in his mouth and whistled a faint, low whistle. Then he shut his eyes and fell to the ground. The wind picked up the sound of Little Wolf’s whistle and blew it up into the mountains. The little pony pricked up its ears. The pony heard the sound of Little Wolf’s whistle, and he knew that his brother lay dying. His heart broke. The little pony did something that no pony had done before or since. He cried!

The pony’s tears fell and soaked the earth. The sun shone brightly and dried the earth, drawing up the pony’s tears. A rain cloud formed in the sky above the crying pony. The wind began to blow. The wind blew the rain cloud to where Little Wolf lay. Then it began to rain. The rain poured down on Little Wolf.
The rain cooled Little Wolf’s fevered brow. Suddenly, the rain stopped. And in its place was a beautiful rainbow. And at the end of the rainbow stood the pony!

Little Wolf leaped to his feet and let out a loud whistle. The pony ran to Little Wolf. The boy jumped on the pony’s back, and away they rode.

And it is said that even today in the Great Smoky Mountains you can hear the hoof beats of a little pony and the laughter of an Indian boy!

The End

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