The Tale of Pony Twinkleheels Part 6

It stopped snowing at last and the weather turned clear and crisp. The sun came out. And so did Johnnie Green, riding on Twinkleheels. He did not get far from the barn, however. Where the snow wasn't piled in drifts high above Twinkleheels' head it reached up on his fat sides. He floundered about the farmyard for a time. And, falling once, he dumped Johnnie Green neatly into a drift, head first.

The spill didn't hurt Johnnie in the least. But snow went up the inside of his sleeves, and down his neck, and into his eyes and ears and even his mouth.

He jumped up spluttering. And Twinkleheels jumped at the same time. He tried to run. But he could make little headway in the snow, and Johnnie caught his bridle rein and stopped him.

"You'd better put that pony back in the barn," Farmer Green called from the woodshed door. "After I yoke up Bright and Broad and break out the drive to the road you can ride Twinkleheels again. He might cut himself in this heavy going."

Twinkleheels sniffed as he heard what Farmer Green said.

"This is all nonsense," he grumbled to the old horse Ebenezer as Johnnie led him into his stall. "Farmer Green doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm a hundred times sprier than Bright. And I'm a hundred times sprier than Broad. That makes me two hundred times sprier than both of them. It's silly to put me in my stall and take them out. They won't be able to move. They'll get stuck fast in a drift, and goodness knows how we'll ever haul them out."

"I shouldn't worry about the oxen if I were you," Ebenezer replied. "It seems to me Bright and Broad are old enough and big enough to look out for themselves."

"That's just the trouble!" cried Twinkleheels. "They're too old and they're too big. They're terribly heavy. If they were stuck in a drift I don't believe you and the bays could pull them out--not even if I helped you."

Ebenezer sighed deeply.

"I'm going to sleep now," he told Twinkleheels.

Soon Twinkleheels could hear Farmer Green shouting "Gee!" and "Haw!"

"There!" Twinkleheels called to the two bays. "There's Farmer Green talking to Bright and Broad. I hope they're not helpless already."

The bays snickered.

"Don't laugh!" Twinkleheels begged them. "It's not funny. It would be awful for them to spend the rest of the winter in a snow bank."

"We weren't laughing at Bright and Broad," the bays explained.

Twinkleheels tried to look at them; but old Ebenezer's bony back was in the way.

"I don't know what amuses you, then," he snapped.

"Maybe you'll find out later," the bays told him.

And he did. When Johnnie Green next led him out of the barn Twinkleheels discovered that a broad path had been opened from the barn to the highway. And a little distance up the road Farmer Green and Bright and Broad were battling with the drifts.

XIV

STUCK IN A DRIFT

Outside the barn, in the snow-covered farmyard, Johnnie Green mounted Twinkleheels and rode him beyond the gate, where he could watch the fun up the road.

Yoked to a sort of plough, Bright and Broad, the oxen, tore through the piled-up snow and threw it to either side in great ridges.

"I'm going ahead to the crossroads," Johnnie Green told his father.

That plan pleased Twinkleheels. Before Farmer Green could speak he plunged out of the broken road and wallowed in snow up to his neck. He was going to show Bright and Broad that he could get to the crossroads before they did.

"Don't do that!" Farmer Green shouted to Johnnie.

He was too late. The words were scarcely out of his mouth before Twinkleheels was reaching desperately for a footing. His toes found nothing firm beneath them--nothing but yielding snow. And his frantic struggles only made him sink the deeper.

Johnnie Green slid off Twinkleheels' back and tried to help him.

He could do nothing. And he turned a somewhat frightened face to his father.

"We're stuck!" he faltered. "I can get out; but Twinkleheels can't. Do you suppose Bright and Broad could pull him out?"

"They could yank twenty of him back on the road," Farmer Green declared.

"But we don't need them. I'll dig the pony out."

Seizing a shovel, Johnnie's father slowly dug his way to Twinkleheels, who had stopped struggling and was waiting glumly for help. In a few minutes more he had scrambled out of the ditch and gained the road again, through the path that Farmer Green made for him.

"Now," said Farmer Green, "don't leave the broken road. This pony's too small to handle himself in these drifts. I wouldn't try to put even a full-sized horse through them. It takes oxen in such going. They're slow; but they're strong and sure-footed, too. And they can go where horses couldn't do anything but flounder and probably cut themselves with their own feet. That's why we always use Bright and Broad to gather sap in the sugar-bush."

"I'll put Twinkleheels in the barn again," said Johnnie. "Then I'll come back on foot and help you."

So he rode Twinkleheels back and hitched him in his stall once more.

Old Ebenezer woke up as Twinkleheels pattered over the barn floor.

"What!" cried the old horse. "Back again so soon? Did you race with Bright and Broad?"

"The snow's too deep for a good race," Twinkleheels told him.

"Bright and Broad don't mind the snow much, do they?" Ebenezer asked.

"Oh, no!" Twinkleheels answered. "They're getting on slowly, up the road. They take their time, of course."

"Couldn't they beat you to the crossroads if you raced with them to-day?"

"Well--yes!" Twinkleheels admitted. And he gave Ebenezer a sharp look.

"Who's been talking with you?" he demanded.

"n.o.body!" said Ebenezer. "I've been dozing here all the morning."

"Not even a sparrow?" Twinkleheels asked.

"No! n.o.body has said a word to me."

"That's strange," Twinkleheels mused. "I was almost sure a little bird had told you something."