Lucky Horse by Bonnie Bryant

could just find some rope, she could lead him back to his paddock in the trees.
    She turned and walked over to the mass of camping equipment that was stacked behind their tent. Surely in all this high-tech stuff there would be a rope. As she felt along the table they’d set up for dinner, her fingers curled around a long piece of twine that her father had used to tie some equipment together.
    “This should work,” she whispered.
    She grabbed her flashlight from the table and hurried back to the horse, tying one end of the twine to his halter. It was the thinnest lead rope she’d ever used, but it would have to do.
    “Come on, boy,” she said, clucking gently. “Let’s go back home.”
    She led the horse back in the direction he’d come from. Though her flashlight gave out a bright light, the thick trees made it especially hard to see. When she shined her light toward the ground, she got thunked in the head by a low branch. When she shined her light up at the trees, she stumbled over rocks and gnarled roots. The horse walked calmly beside her, never missing one step.
    “It must be nice to have eyes that can see in the dark,” Carole grumbled as a prickly shrub grabbed at her arm.
    When she nearly tripped over an old rotten log, she gave up.
    “Okay,” she said. “I promised myself I wouldn’t do this, but I think it’s the only way I’m going to get you home without killing myself.”
    She stopped the horse, climbed on the log, then hoisted herself onto his back. The roan stood still, calm and willing.
    “Okay,” Carole said, holding one end of the rope and the horse’s mane. “I know you know the way. Let’s go home.”
    In just a few moments the roan had picked his way through the forest, back to his camp. The Loftins’ green tent was dark, its flaps down. Apparently they were still asleep, unaware that one of their horses had wandered in the night.
    No need to wake them up, either
, thought Carole as she slid off the roan’s back and led him to his paddock. One of the top nylon ropes that made the fence had come loose, allowing him an easy jump to freedom. The other horse watched with interest as she led the roan back over the collapsed rope and into his makeshift home.
    “Now, you guys behave yourselves for the rest of the night,” she whispered as she retied the rope securely to the tree. She pointed her finger at the roan. “And no more midnight rambles for you!”
    He looked so serious that she had to laugh. He wasa great horse and would probably be a lot of fun to own. “Bye now,” she called. She clicked her flashlight back on and walked carefully up the trail to her own campsite, wishing she had a horse with night vision on her return journey.
    “Y OU WON ’ T BELIEVE what happened last night, Dad,” Carole said as she followed her father out of the tent and into the bright morning light.
    “What?”
    “One of those horses I met yesterday escaped from his paddock and came over here. I woke up and had to take him back to his campsite.”
    “Really?” Colonel Hanson’s eyes grew wide. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I could have helped.”
    “You were sleeping so soundly. It just didn’t seem like that big a deal. I tied a rope to his halter and started leading him, although I wound up having to ride him through the dark trees.”
    Colonel Hanson shook his head. “I didn’t even know horses could be ridden through the forest at night. Maybe it’s just as well you took care of it. How about I fire up the cookstove and make breakfast? We can celebrate Carole Hanson’s famous horse rescue with a big stack of pancakes.”
    Carole grinned. “Sounds great to me! I’ll go wash up in the creek while you cook.”
    Carole tidied up their tent, wincing as her fathercrashed around among the boxes of cooking equipment outside.
    “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” she called.
    “No, I’m fine. You go on down to the creek and wash up. I’ll have the pancakes done by the time