Mystery of the Wild Ponies (2 page)

“We’re going someplace special for dinner,” Grandfather announced.

Eagerly the children climbed into the car. The long trip and the salty air had made them all hungry. As Grandfather swung the station wagon onto the road, Jessie noticed a sign she hadn’t seen before.

It showed a silhouette of a horse and read, SLOW! HORSE CROSSING. She couldn’t recall seeing any stables nearby, only houses.

Moments later, Grandfather turned in to a wide driveway. Low, gray-shingled buildings with balconies faced the ocean. A sleek seagull was carved into the double doors of the main entrance. Violet noticed that the seagull had been carved using only one line. After dinner when they were back at the cottage, she would try copying that single-line bird, she told herself.

“Where are we?” she asked.

Grandfather drove past tennis courts and a glittering pool to an older building. “This is the Seagull Resort,” he replied. “It’s the only resort in the Outer Banks.”

Henry watched a couple in crisp tennis outfits walk off the courts. “This place is too fancy. I like our house better.”

“I prefer peace and quiet at the beach, but some people like a lot of organized activity,” said Grandfather. “The resort has a restaurant, though.”

“Just as long as they have food,” said Benny.

As they went inside, his eyes lit up. “Oh, boy!” he exclaimed.

“It’s like the inside of a boat,” Jessie remarked, staring at the thick ropes and huge old-fashioned pulleys in a glass case.

“It used to be a lifesaving station,” Grandfather replied. “There are several of these stations up and down the Outer Banks. This is the only one restored as a restaurant.”

The headwaiter led them to a table by one of the large windows.

Henry began reading a brief history of the lifesaving stations printed on the back of his menu. “It says here the Outer Banks used to be dangerous to ships.”

The waiter, who was filling their water glasses, nodded. “This area was once called the ‘Graveyard of the Atlantic’ During storms, ships were driven into the shallow waters and often wrecked.”

“How awful!” Violet commented.

“Yes, it was,” said the waiter. “Many men lost their lives. So in 1874 the U.S. Lifesaving Service was started. The government built seven stations. This is number five, built in 1899.”

“So exactly what did the rescuers do?” asked Jessie.

“A lot,” said the waiter. “The men worked all winter in icy waters, standing watch on the shore. When the rescuers spotted a grounded ship, they hauled their equipment down to the beach in carts pulled by the island’s wild ponies, some of which were caught and tamed for this job,” the waiter added. “Then they’d row out to the ship and bring the stranded crew to shore. It was hard, dangerous work.”

Benny was fascinated. “I want to be a rescuer, too!”

Their waiter smiled. “You can, when you grow up. The Lifesaving Service is now the U.S. Coast Guard.” He poised his pencil over his pad. “I’ve been talking too much. Do you know what you’d like?”

Grandfather ordered swordfish steak, while Jessie and Henry asked for the Carolina barbecue. Violet and Benny chose cheeseburgers with the works.

As they waited for their food, they wandered around the restaurant, which was decorated with old photographs and lifesaving gear. Jessie lingered by a picture of a crew of surfmen posed by their carts and boats. The rescuers all wore handlebar mustaches and serious expressions. One man held the bridle of a shaggy pony. Didn’t the waiter mention something about wild ponies?

Crash!

The sound of shattered dishes came from the kitchen. Voices raised in argument were heard all the way in the dining room.

Jessie recognized their waiter’s voice as she and the others returned to their table. Their waiter was obviously angry. The other voice sounded apologetic.

The waiter appeared just then, carrying a tray with the iced teas Grandfather had ordered.

“I’m very sorry,” he said to the Aldens. “A young man wanted to apply for a job as a busboy. I told him he was too inexperienced, but he insisted on lifting a heavy tray. You heard the result.” He smiled and left again.

The incident was forgotten when their food arrived. After a dessert of apple cobbler with ice cream, they drove back to Gullwing Cottage.

“It’s still early,” Benny said. “Can we take a walk?”

“Good idea,” said Grandfather, though he decided to stay behind to read. “Why don’t you go see the landward part of the island,” he suggested.

“The landward part?” asked Benny. “What is that?”

Grandfather smiled. “This island is long and narrow. Our cottage is on the seaward side, which faces the open ocean, where the waves are big. The landward side of the island faces the Carolina coast. The bridge we drove over earlier today connects North Carolina to the landward side. The water is much calmer on that side and there are docks full of fishing boats.”

“Docks? Boats?” said Benny. “Let’s go!”

The main road was busy, but the children crossed safely. They found a wooden walk that led to the docks.

Violet caught her breath when she saw the orange sun resting on the horizon. What a great spot to paint!

“Look!” Benny cried. He pointed to a large brown bird perched on one of the pilings near an older man.

The man sat on an upturned bait bucket at the end of the dock. He was untangling fishing line. The Aldens walked out to him.

“Excuse me,” said Jessie. “Is that your pelican?”

The older man laughed. “He thinks he’s mine. Out here every day, rain or shine, hopin’ to grab my catch.”

“Are you a fisherman?” asked Violet. With his gray hair, bright blue eyes, and fisherman’s cap, the man looked as at home on the pier as the pelican.

“I do a little fishin’. I catch a few crabs.” The crinkles around his eyes deepened. “You young folks on vacation?”

“Yes, sir.” Henry introduced the others and explained that they were staying a week at Gullwing Cottage. “You’re from here, aren’t you?” he guessed.

“Born and raised here. Name’s Shad Toler.”

“Shad?” asked Benny. “Is that a name?”

Jessie nudged her brother. “Benny!”

“It’s a nickname,” said Shad. “Shad is a kind of fish. My real name is Rupert. I was never fond of it, though. Shad suits me just fine.”

“Have you always lived on the island?” asked Violet.

Shad nodded. “Yes. I never saw a reason to leave. Got a piece of land here. People been after me for years to sell. I could make a lot of money if I sold it. But I won’t sell. I don’t need a lot of money. Long as I can fish a little, I’m happy.”

Henry looked along the shoreline. There were lots of houses on this side of the island.

“I bet this place has changed since you were a boy,” he observed.

“Yeah. Can’t stand in the way of progress,” said Shad. “I remember when we didn’t have telephones here. I still don’t have one hooked up. And I went to school in a one-room schoolhouse.”

“Everybody in just one room?” Benny asked. It sounded very crowded.

Shad grinned. “At recess, we’d all run up on the dune. It was bigger then. We’d play catch or five-oh. I think you call it hide-and-seek.”

Jessie imagined growing up on an island. It must have been so much fun!

“But best of all,” Shad said, “were the wild horses.”

“Wild horses!” Benny exclaimed. “Are there wild horses here?”

Shad laughed at Benny’s expression. “Haven’t you seen them? Guess not. The herd pretty much stays north of here, in that new pony pen.” He shook his head. “A shame. Wild animals ought to be free, not locked up.”

“Why are they in a pen?” Jessie asked, shocked.

Shad shrugged. “Safer, so they say. The horses like to roam. But they cross that road. In the last few years, some have been hit by cars.”

“How sad!” said Violet. She hated the idea of any animal being hurt.

“They built this pen to keep the horses from runnin’ around. I don’t like the idea myself, but it’s supposed to be best for the horses,” said Shad.

“Can we go see the horses?” Benny wanted to know.

“You can drive up there,” Shad replied. “Sometimes you get lucky and see them, sometimes not.” Then he lowered his voice and peered at them from under his bushy brows. “But if you’re real lucky, you might see a particular horse.”

Jessie leaned forward. “Which one?”

“Name’s Magic. Used to be the leader of the herd.”

“Used to be?” asked Henry. “What happened?”

The wind had picked up. Shad gazed out at the choppy waters. Whitecaps danced on the waves.

“Magic was hit by a car one foggy night,” he said. “Poor animal was killed instantly.” Violet felt a shiver trickle down her spine. “But people can still see him?”

“Yes,” said Shad. “On certain moonlit nights, if you’re real lucky, you might see the ghost of Magic, runnin’ along the beach. He’s come back to take over his herd.”

“A ghost horse!” Benny said excitedly as they walked back to Gullwing Cottage. “Neat!”

“Now, Benny,” Jessie said gently. “It’s just a story. I bet Mr. Toler likes to tell stories.”

“But it could be true,” Benny insisted.

Violet silently agreed with her little brother, even though she knew ghosts didn’t exist. She could imagine the shimmery horse prancing in the moonlight.

Home again, the children realized they were tired after the long day. Everyone went to bed early.

In the room he shared with Henry, Benny lay in the top bunk across from his brother and listened to the surf outside. Henry was already asleep.

Benny thought about climbing down the bunk bed ladder to look out the window. Maybe he’d see Magic, the ghost horse. He’d get down right now, but first he’d just close his eyes for a moment.…

Instead of moonlight, Benny woke to bright sunshine beaming in his face and the delicious aroma of frying bacon.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Henry greeted his little brother. He was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. “Jessie says breakfast is almost ready.”

Benny didn’t need to be told twice. He was dressed and sitting at the round oak table in a flash.

Jessie and Grandfather served toasted English muffins, scrambled eggs, bacon, and orange juice.

“After we’ve cleaned up,” said Grandfather, “we’ll drive to that grocery store in Corolla and buy food for the week.”

Henry took the big cooler out to the car, for milk and meat that might spoil. When the dishes were done, they all got into the station wagon.

The road twisted north for several miles. Then Benny spotted a redbrick lighthouse towering over the trees.

“Look!” he cried.

“That’s the Currituck Beach Lighthouse,” Grandfather said. “It’s the only lighthouse this far north on the Outer Banks. Because this strip of land is so narrow, storms and hurricanes often do lots of damage.”

“What about all these houses?” Violet noticed huge houses on either side of the road.

“Good question,” said Grandfather. “If they are built too close to the ocean, they could be swept out to sea in a really powerful storm.”

They drove to a shopping center with a large grocery store and, with everyone helping, they got everything they needed in a few minutes.

At the checkout counter, Grandfather added a copy of the local newspaper. Henry loaded the heavy bags into the back of the car. As they were pulling out, he saw a sign.

“ ‘The Corolla Wild Horse Sanctuary,’ ” Henry exclaimed. “That must be where the wild horses are kept.”

“Can we go see them, Grandfather?” Benny asked.

“Of course. I’ve heard about these horses but have never seen them.”

The road went from pavement to gravel and then they arrived at a gate that barred the way.

Violet was disappointed. “I guess we can’t go in after all.”

A uniformed young man with freckles and red hair was locking the gate. When he heard their car, he turned and smiled.

“Hello,” he said in a friendly way. “You can get out of the car and watch from the gate if you like.”

“We were hoping to see the wild horses,” Grandfather said.

The officer glanced back toward the high dune topped with sea grass. “I only saw a few of them myself this morning. The rest must be on the far side of the sanctuary.” He put out a hand. “I’m Officer Thomas Hyde.”

“Are you a policeman?” Benny asked in awe, shaking the man’s hand.

Officer Hyde grinned. “Sanctuary officer. My job is to take care of the horses. I stop traffic if the herd crosses the road, and prevent people from feeding or trying to pet or ride the horses.”

“I thought the horses were penned in,” Henry said. “How can they cross the road?”

Officer Hyde pointed to the fence on either side of the gate. “Horses naturally want to roam to new grazing areas. They swim around the fence on the ocean side. We can’t fence in the ocean.”

“What happens if the horses get out?” Jessie wanted to know.

“I find them,” said Officer Hyde. “I’m in radio contact with the sheriff’s office and an on-call vet. Mainly I protect the herd from tourists. It’s against the law to bother these animals, you know.”

Benny was hanging on the gate. “I see them!” he cried. “Here they come!”