Heroes and Hounds by Bill Miller

Author:Bill Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure, dogs, horses, veterans, heroes, foxhunting, equestrian, values
Publisher: Bill Miller
Published: 2020-03-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Freddie and Carly met after school as promised. Today they rode mountain bikes because Freddie didn’t have a pony like Monroe, had only once been on a horse, and didn’t like it. Some people were born to be riders. Others, like Freddie, shied away. This didn’t keep them from being close friends, sharing secrets, and spending afternoons together exploring. Weekends, Freddie went to the city to live with his dad, so Carly and Freddie would rendezvous after school on weekdays for their continuing adventures.

Throughout the day, Carly retold her fantastic story and, just after lunch, she knew Freddie finally believed her. Unpredictably, he suggested they continue the search for the missing hound, that he’d meet her at the Mill Street overpass at three o’clock. That would leave several hours before sunset, plenty of time for their exploration. Soon, daylight savings time would end, cutting their after school activity short during the winter months.

Freddie arrived at the meeting spot first and was busy studying animal prints in the mud, when Carly shouted a greeting.

“What’s that you found?” she asked, bounding from the bike.

“Found the missing hound prints,” Freddie boasted proudly.

Carly joined him at the water’s edge, took a look at the prints, and announced that they were deer prints, not hound prints, and that Freddie should put his glasses back on.

“Are too hound prints,” Freddie insisted.

“Are not,” Carly stood behind her original interpretation.

Freddie put his glasses on, realized his mistake, but refused to admit it to his friend. Face flushed, he picked up his bike and headed down a path into the woods. Carly followed in close pursuit.

“I told you so,” she sassed.

“Bring the candy bar you promised?” Freddie asked, changing the subject.

“Right here. One for me. One for you. But they’re for later,” she teased, patting a small vinyl pouch that served as a saddlebag. “If you’re good.”

The two friends rode in silence watching a red-tailed hawk making figure eights in the sky.

“I wonder if other hawks judge each other?” Freddie inquired.

“What?” Carly asked in amazement.

“You know, like figure skaters or gymnasts. Imagine a panel of six other hawks sitting in a tree holding up numbered cards judging that hawk’s performance as it soars through the sky.” Freddie’s imagination was wild.

“You think of the weirdest things sometimes, Frederick.” Carly called him Frederick when she was annoyed with him or when he began showing off his exceptional IQ.

Carly was in the lead now, pedaling as fast as her legs would pivot.

She knew exactly where she was taking her friend. They crossed familiar brooks and streams, passed trees that were turning colors and rode over damp mossy patches of lingering green.

“Smell that?” Freddie asked as they rounded a bend in the road. The pair lifted their noses to the air like well-trained tracking dogs.

“Could be somebody’s wood stove,” Carly offered.

“Seems a bit warm for a fire today, don’t you think?” Freddie wasn’t buying the wood stove explanation. “Maybe someone’s burning leaves. Let’s check it out.”

Noses leading the way, the bicyclists turned onto a rocky deer path that tested their mountain biking skills.

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