Ellen Tebbits (7 page)

“Look,” cried Austine. “I’m really on a horse.”

Ellen knew she was expected to take the lead.“Giddap,” she said uncertainly. Brownie did not move.

The man gave each horse a light slap on the rump.They walked out of the corral and ambled down the dirt road as if they were used to going that way.Austine’s mother and father followed on foot.

Ellen carefully held one rein in each hand. As she looked at the ground so far below, she hoped Brownie wouldn’t decide to run.

“I’m going to call my horse Old Paint like in the song,” said Austine, who never missed the Montana Wranglers on the radio and knew all about cowboy songs. “I wish I’d worn my cowboy neckerchief.”

“Yes,” said Ellen briefly. She didn’t feel like making conversation.

When Austine’s horse moved in front, Ellen took hold of the saddle horn. It wasn’t so much that she was scared, she told herself.

She just didn’t want to take unnecessary chances.

“I wish we’d worn our pedal pushers,” said Austine. “It’s sort of hard to feel like a cowgirl in a dress.”

“I wish we had, too.”

Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. The horses seemed to know the way, and Ellen found the rocking motion and the squeak of the saddle rather pleasant.

She was even able to look around at the trees and enjoy the woodsy smell.

Then when they had gone around a bend in the road, Brownie decided it was time to go back to the corral. He turned around and started walking in the direction from which they had come.

“Hey,” said Ellen anxiously. She pulled on the right rein, but Brownie kept on going.

“Stop!” she ordered, more loudly this time.

“What are you going that way for?” asked Austine, turning in her saddle.

“Because the horse wants to,” said Ellen crossly.

“Well, turn him around.”

“I can’t,” said Ellen. “He won’t steer.” Austine turned Old Paint and drew up beside Ellen. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to hold both reins in one hand?” Austine was scornful.

Ellen didn’t know. “I just held them this way to try to turn him,” she said. She took them in her left hand.They were so long she wound them around her hand.

Austine leaned over and took hold of Brownie’s bridle with one hand.“Come on, Old Paint,” she said, and turned her horse forward again. Brownie followed.

“Thanks,” said Ellen. “My, you’re brave.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” said Austine modestly. “You don’t steer a horse,” she added gently. “You guide him.”

“Oh . . . I  forgot.” Ellen wondered how she would ever explain her ignorance to Austine. What would her best friend think when she found out how Ellen had misled her?

The horses plodded on down the woodsy road. Through the trees the girls could see the highway and hear cars passing. Austine’s mother and father appeared around the bend, and Ellen began to feel brave again.

“Let’s gallop,” suggested Austine.

Ellen’s legs were beginning to ache.

“How do you make them gallop?”

“Dig your heels in,” said Austine.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to hurt the horse,” said Ellen.

“You won’t hurt him, silly. Cowboys wear spurs, don’t they?”

Ellen timidly prodded Brownie with her heels. Brownie ambled on.

Austine dug in her heels. Old Paint began to trot. At first Austine bounced, but soon she rode smoothly.Then her horse began to gallop.

When Old Paint galloped, Brownie began to trot. Ellen began to bounce. She hung on to the saddle horn as hard as she could. Still she bounced. Slap-slap-slap. Her bare legs began to hurt from rubbing against the leather of the saddle flap. Slap-slap-slap.

Goodness, I sound awful, she thought. I hope Austine doesn’t hear me slapping this way.

Austine’s horse, after galloping a few yards, slowed down to a walk. “Whoa, Old Paint,” cried Austine anyway, and pulled on the reins. Old Paint stopped and Austine panted a minute.

“I did it, Ellen!” she called. “It was just a few steps, but I really, truly galloped. I hung on with my knees and galloped just like in the movies.”

“Wh-wh-oa-oa!” Ellen’s voice was jarred out between bounces. Brownie trotted on.

Slap-slap-slap.

Austine began to laugh. “I can see trees between you and the saddle every time you go up. Oh, Ellen, you look so funny!” 

Slap-slap-slap. Ellen didn’t think she could stand much more bouncing. It was worse than being spanked.

“Ellen Tebbits! I don’t think you know a thing about horseback riding.”

“Wh-wh-oa-oa!” When Brownie reached Old Paint he stopped. After Ellen got her breath, she gasped,“I do, too. It’s just that the other horses I rode were tamer.” The horses walked on until the road curved down to the edge of a stream.

“Oh, look. There’s a bridge,” exclaimed Ellen, looking up.

“I guess the highway crosses to the other side of the stream,” said Austine. “I wonder if the poor horses are thirsty.” There was no doubt about Brownie’s wanting a drink. He left the road and picked his way down the rocky bank to the water.

“Poor horsie, you were thirsty,” said Ellen, patting his neck.

But Brownie did not stop at the edge of the stream. He waded out into it.

“Whoa,” yelled Ellen, above the rush of the water. “Austine, help!”

Brownie waded on.

“Austine! What’ll I do? He’s going swim-ming!”

“Here, Brownie! Here, Brownie!” called Austine from the bank. Her voice sounded faint across the surging water.

When Brownie had picked his way around the boulders to the middle of the stream, he stopped and looked around.

“Look, he’s in over his knees!” Ellen looked down at the swirling water.“Giddap, Brownie!”

“Kick him in the ribs,” yelled Austine from across the stream.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” called Ellen, but she did kick him gently. Brownie did not appear to notice.

“Slap him on the behind with the ends of the reins,” directed Austine from the bank.

Ellen slapped. Brownie turned his head and looked at her reproachfully.

By this time some hikers had stopped on the bridge. Looking down at Ellen, they laughed and pointed. Ellen wished they would go away.

Brownie lowered his head to drink.

Because Ellen had the reins wound around her hand, she could not let go. As she was pulled forward, the saddle horn poked her in the stomach.

“Oof,” she said. Hanging over the horse’s neck, she clung to his mane with one hand while she unwound her other hand.

Brownie looked at her with water drip-ping from his chin. Ellen thought it was his chin. Maybe on a horse it was called something else.

Austine broke a branch from a huckle-berry bush that grew out of an old log at the edge of the stream. She waved it toward Brownie. “Here, horsie. Nice horsie.” Brownie glanced at her with mild interest.

“Oh, go on, Brownie,” said Ellen in disgust. She kicked him hard this time.

Brownie looked at her sadly and swished his tail.

A couple of cars stopped on the bridge and the occupants looked down at Ellen and laughed. “Yippee!” yelled one of the hikers and everyone laughed.“Ride ’em, cowboy!”

“Do something, Austine,” Ellen called across the water. “Our half hour must be nearly up.”

“Maybe I could ride back and get the man who owns the horses,” Austine yelled back.

“No,Austine. Don’t leave me here alone,” begged Ellen. “Maybe I could get off and wade. I don’t think the water would come up to my shoulders.”

“The current’s too strong,” called Austine. “And anyway, we’re supposed to bring the horses back.You can’t go off and leave Brownie.”

Austine was right. Ellen knew that she couldn’t leave Brownie. She might lose him, and the man would probably make her pay for him. At least, she thought he would. She had never heard of anyone losing a horse, so she wasn’t sure. “I can’t stay here forever,” she called.

“Mother and Daddy should catch up with us in a minute,”Austine called.“They’ll know what to do.”

That was just what was worrying Ellen.

She didn’t want the Allens to see her in such a predicament.What would they think after Austine had told them she had ridden before? Maybe they had wandered off to look at rhododendrons and were lost in the woods by now.

Still Brownie did not move. Ellen wondered what it would be like to try to sleep on a horse. Again she wished she had brought some lumps of sugar. She could have eaten them herself when she became hungry.

One of the hikers climbed down the bank to the edge of the water. “Need some help, little girl?” he called.

“Oh yes, please,” answered Ellen gratefully.

Jumping from boulder to boulder, the man drew near her, but he could not get close enough to reach Brownie’s bridle.

“Throw me the reins, little girl,” he directed.

Ellen threw them as hard as she could.

They fell into the water, but the man grabbed them as the current carried them toward him.

“Come on, old fellow,” he said, pulling at the reins. Meekly Brownie began to pick his way around the boulders toward the bank.

“Oh, thank you,” said Ellen, when they reached dry ground. “I guess I would have had to stay out there all day if you hadn’t come for me.”

“That’s all right,” said the man. “The trouble is, you let the horse know you were afraid of him. Let the old nag know you’re boss and you won’t have any trouble.”

“Thank you, I’ll try,” said Ellen, taking a firm grip on the reins. “Good-bye.” Just then Austine’s mother and father appeared around the bend in the road.

“Enjoying your ride, girls?” asked Mr. Allen.

“Oh yes,” said Austine. “We just stopped to give the horses a drink.”

“It’s time to turn back now,” said Mrs. Allen.

“All right, Mother,” said Austine.

The girls headed their horses toward the corral. Ellen was so embarrassed she didn’t know quite what to say to Austine. What would Austine think of her after this? What would she tell the kids at school?

Finally, when Austine’s mother and father were a safe distance behind, Ellen said in a low voice, “I guess I didn’t know quite as much about horseback riding as I thought I did.”

“Your horse was just hard to manage, that’s all,” said Austine generously.

“Austine?” said Ellen timidly.

“What?”

“You won’t tell anybody, will you? You won’t tell that Otis Spofford what happened, will you?”

Austine smiled at her. “Of course I won’t tell. We’re best friends, aren’t we? It’ll be a secret like the underwear. Giddap, Old Paint.”

“Thank you, Austine,” said Ellen gratefully. “You’re a wonderful friend. And you know what? I’m going to look for some horse books the next time we go to the library.”

The horses, knowing they were headed toward hay, showed more spirit. Ellen held the reins firmly. That Brownie was going to know who was boss. She began to enjoy herself. She pretended she was returning to a ranch after a hard day riding the range.

“I didn’t know horses had such long hair,” she remarked.

“It’s their winter coat,” explained Austine.

“They’ll shed it this summer.”

Ellen laughed. “Just like winter underwear,” she said.

5

The Twins

One morning early in August Ellen roller-skated to Austine’s house. It was a beautiful day and, as Ellen skated through the shadows of the maple trees, she thought about her wonderful idea. It was the best idea she had thought of in a long, long time. She could hardly wait to tell Austine about it.

Austine, who was already out on her skates, coasted toward Ellen. “Hi,” she said.