Ticket to Curlew by Celia Lottridge

you want to hear the news from town?”
    Josie stamped her foot. “Oh, Pa. You know we want to know about the new horse.”
    Sam was peering around Pa.
    â€œHe looks kind of small for a plow horse,” he said.
    Pa turned toward the wagon. “Oh, you noticed Prince,” he said in a surprised voice. “Well, I hope you like him because he’s your horse. He’ll take you all to school. In fact, once he gets a fix on this farm as his home, he can take you anywhere and he’ll always bring you back.”
    Sam wanted to leap into the air and shout, but he knew it was important to be calm around a horse who didn’t know you. Josie was already rubbing Prince’s nose and Matt was stroking his side, seeing how high up he could reach. Sam stood where he was. He thought that Pa had something more to tell him.
    â€œI wanted a good, trusty horse for you children,” Pa was saying. “A lot of folks use an old worn-out workhorse for a school horse. One that can just amble along the path to school with the youngsters on its back and rest all day and bring them home again. But I wanted a horse with more spirit for you, Sam. It’s no good for a boy your age to be tied to the house.”
    Sam couldn’t say anything. He could only think of riding toward the horizon, never turning back until he and Prince were ready to head home. He half listened for what he knew Pa would say next.
    â€œOf course,” Pa went on, “he’s for all of you children and he’ll be useful for some work around the place, too.”
    â€œOf course,” said Sam. He didn’t expect to have a horse all to himself. Back in Iowa he had had a pony, but Prince was a real horse and horses had to earn their keep. Anyway, the work he could do with Prince would be more pleasure than chore. He could already imagine riding to town on errands for Mama and bringing cattle in from a far field for Pa.
    â€œWhere did you get him?” he asked.
    â€œChalkey told me about a fellow who was selling out. Didn’t take to prairie life. He had some good horses so I went around to see them. Prince is an old-timer and he knows his way around the prairie. I could see that he was sound so I bought him. Go make friends with him, Sam.”
    It was easy to make friends with Prince. He stood calmly, swishing his tail while all three children petted him and talked to him.
    Up close Sam could see that there were gray hairs mixed with the white. Prince was actually a gray horse turning white, as gray horses did when they got older. His mane and tail were white but his eyes were dark, and Sam thought he saw fire in there.
    â€œHow old is he, Pa?” asked Sam.
    â€œMy guess is he’s about ten. The fellow I bought him from didn’t know exactly. He got him as part of the deal when he bought his land. He’s probably a catch colt, bred out on the range. I’d say he has some quarter-horse in him and some mustang.”
    Chalkey had told Sam about mustangs. They were horses that had gone wild and lived in herds in the foothills. Now most of the herds were gone because so many settlers had come into that country, but many prairie horses had some mustang blood. Some people didn’t like mustang in their horses. It was too unpredictable, they said, and the horses often looked a bit scrubby.
    Sam could see that Prince was a bit short in the leg, and he did have a long nose. But already Prince was beautiful to him.
    â€œHorses with mustang blood have good instincts. They are survivors. That’s what every creature on the prairies has to be,” Pa was saying in a philosophical tone of voice. Then he spoke more briskly. “Sam, you take the first ride. See how you and Prince get along. I’ll give you a knee up.”
    Sam sat on Prince’s bare back and looked around. Everything looked different from there: the farmyard small and friendly, the prairie all around as huge