Meyers' Rebellion by Connie Brummel Crook

Author:Connie Brummel Crook
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV001000, JUV016080
Publisher: Fitzhenry & Whiteside
Published: 2010-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

13

Bonnie and Duke pulled the sleigh very slowly out the lane in snow already up to their flanks. They struggled through high banks and pulled through deep hollows made by the shifting wind. Father had chosen the sleigh because the cutter would have upset more easily. But even the flat sleigh tipped up and down as the horses ploughed through the heavy, uneven banks of snow. Bonnie and Duke were their most reliable horses—Duke with his extra energy and Bonnie so serene.

Father and John’s faces were hidden by lined woollen toques and heavy wool scarves wound round and round their heads. Only their eyes and noses were uncovered. John held the reins tightly, and his father watched the horses’ every move, ready to spring into action and take over the reins if John needed help.

Finally, John shouted over the noise of the storm. “Why don’t you get warm under the buffalo robes, Father? I can manage the horses. There’s no sense in the two of us freezing up here.”

“Well…if you can manage. I’ll give you a break soon.” Father blew out the lantern and tied it to the side of the boxed sled. It wasn’t doing much good anyway. Then Father sat upright with his legs and arms crossed and the black buffalo robe wrapped completely around him. He peered out through a narrow parting in the blanket.

“Why are you turning?” Father shouted after a few minutes. He couldn’t see far ahead.

“You said you wanted to stop at the Burditts’.”

But they were only partway along the Burditts’ long lane when Father was over the side of the sleigh and gone. John hopped out, too, to turn the horses and sleigh around. It was a good thing there were trees on either side of the lane—the wind wasn’t quite so bad.

The horses could not understand why they were standing still in such weather. They wanted to be on their way to better shelter. John struggled with the reins to hold them steady as he stood there, buffeted by the wind and snow. The ends of his scarves had frozen with the snow, and they whipped icily against his face. He pulled them back and looked towards the house. A low light was flickering from somewhere—probably an upstairs room. That was a good sign.

Maybe it was Nan’s room. Maybe it was she who had heard the thumping at the door, who had lit a lantern to go investigate. He imagined her concern when she saw Father. “Has something happened to John?” she would gasp, and then insist on making him some food for the journey. He imagined her braving the wind and cold so that she could bring it to him herself. She’d see that he was driving, and beg him to be careful. Perhaps she would even—

John was startled out of his exciting thoughts by the sight of Father wading towards him through the drifting snow. His face was grim as he jumped onto the back of the sled and wrapped the heavy buffalo robe around himself.

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