An exciting story with a happy ending. The values of friendshiip, loyalty, understanding of the coyotes and their hunger, and the giving of ones word as a contract, are the themes of this Patric the Pony story.
Patric the pony hides his friend Harry the rabbit in a tree to save him from the coyotes. When Patric refuses to hand Harry over, the coyotes decide to eat him too.
Just when Patric thinks that all is lost, he and Harry are saved by the sudden ghostly appearance of the elegant, white borzoi dog Eclair, who jumps the fence and dispatches the coyotes.
She then remembers she has a show the next day. "Am I still beautiful?" she asks Patric.
Patric the Pony and the Flash of Lightning
By Lin EdmondsAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 Lin Edmonds
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4389-6302-0Chapter One
The days were cold and frosty. Patric's brown coat had grown thick and long to keep him warm. There were very few flies for the frog to eat, and one day the frog told the pony that it was time for him to sleep until spring.
"Goodnight, Patric," he said. "See you next year," and he hopped into his burrow beside the pond where it was warm and dry.
"Sleep well Froggy," said Patric. "See you next year."
The grass was dry and brown and tired, and there was no more goodness in it. Olivia and little Jacob walked down the hill twice a day to feed Patric. The rabbit was hungry. "Come and have some hay," said Patric. The rabbit was happy to share Patric's hay, and the two friends ate together every day.
It was almost the shortest day of the year and the longest night. The moon was full and bright, and Patric could see its reflection in the water of the pond. He could hear the coyotes singing a hunting song to the moon. Yip, yip, yip," they sang. It was so cold Patric could see his breath hanging in the still air. He dipped his nose into the water and drank, and then he sighed. He missed his friend the frog, he missed the fresh, green grass.
Suddenly, there was movement. Startled, he raised his head. In the moonlight, he saw Harry the rabbit running toward him from the marshy ground at the far end of the meadow.
"Run, run for your life," said Harry as he ran by. "They found me. They're coming," and away he ran up the hill.
Who found you? wondered Patric as he followed Harry as fast as he could. "Who is coming?" he asked the rabbit as they ran, but all the rabbit could say was, "Faster, Patric, faster."
When he reached the top of the hill, Patric could see Harry running up and down in front of the fence. To Harry the fence looked as if it reached up to the sky. "No way out, no way out. What shall I do, what shall I do?" he cried. "They will eat me; this time they will eat me!"
Patric jumped on top of the big, flat rock and looked down the hill. It was then that he saw them in the moonlight. Narrow, dark shadows with long legs trotting up the hill toward them. Coyotes! The coyotes were coming.
Patric looked around. How could he help his friend? Then he jumped down from the rock and trotted over to the big oak tree. It was green, with wide, spreading branches. "Here, rabbit," he said. "Jump on my back and then onto that low branch. You'll be safe in the tree," and he dropped down to his knees.
Harry the rabbit jumped onto Patric's back. Patric stood up, and then Harry jumped onto the branch in the oak tree. He scrambled to the highest place on the branch, and he hid among the leaves. He tucked his nose in between his paws and folded his ears against his sides, and he pretended he wasn't there at all. "Don't move until I tell you it's okay," whispered Patric.
Patric moved away from the tree and looked around him. Where were the coyotes? All was quiet. There was no wind and only a few clouds in the sky. Perhaps the coyotes have gone away, he thought hopefully. Suddenly he smelled something. Something in the shadow of the rock was watching him. They were here!
Long-legged and thin in the body, the pack leader trotted boldly out into the moonlight. Its large ears stood straight up on its head. Its eyes were yellow slits. It trotted lightly around Patric and around the tree, stopping every now and to scratch its belly. It sniffed the ground with its long nose. It sniffed the air. Then it sat in front of Patric and said in a singsong voice, "We're looking for a rabbit. We are friends of his. We know his family well. Is he in this tree?" Then it stood on its hind legs under the very branch where Harry was hiding, and it sniffed and sniffed the cold air. It could almost reach the branch. Its eyes were here and its eyes were there, and Patric thought they saw everything. "Yes, I can smell the rabbit. He is in this tree," the coyote sang out.
"Yip, yip, yip," sang the rest of the pack from the shadow of the rock. "Yip, yip, yip, the rabbit is in the tree."
Patric could see their eyes glowing in the darkness. He knew the coyote was not the rabbit's friend, and there was something about the coyote that made him feel afraid. All the hairs in his mane prickled and stood on end. What was happening?
Quickly, Patric stood under the branch were Harry was hiding. Again the leader of the coyotes sat in front of him. This time it stretched very tall and raised its head and yawned very slowly, showing all of its long, sharp, white teeth. Then it said, "We were thinking of playing a game with the rabbit. But what is one rabbit between friends? Let's share the rabbit. Move away from the tree!"
Share the rabbit with him, what does that mean? Patric wondered for a moment. Then he knew what the coyote meant, and he did not move away from the tree.
"So be it," said the coyote leader very softly. "I am so happy to meet you, pony. What a handsome pony you are. We are many, and after all, a rabbit is very small."
Then he got up and trotted around Patric. Patric saw that saliva was dripping from the coyote's mouth. Suddenly he grew very, very afraid. Patric was afraid from the tip of his nose down to the heels of his small, hard hooves. He turned, and as he turned he saw that there were coyotes all around him. He wanted to run and run and run, but there was no way out. There was nowhere to hide. He knew now why the coyotes made him feel afraid. They wanted to eat him too!
The rest of the coyote pack trotted out from behind the rock, and when Patric saw them coming toward him, he raised himself up very tall and pinned back his ears. Then swiftly he turned around and backed toward them, kicking. Surprised, they scattered out of the way. But this was a game they had played many times before, and they circled him quickly and leaped for his throat. They leaped and bit at his sides. They circled and bit at his hind legs with their long, sharp teeth.
Patric screamed with pain and plunged and reared. He kicked and kicked at them with his hard hooves until they howled and slunk away into the darkness, but out of the shadows came more coyotes, and they attacked him again. They bit at his flanks and his hind legs, and again and again the pack leader leaped for his throat, trying to pull him down. What was happening? What could he do? He wanted to run and run, but he knew he must not leave Harry.
He bit hard with his teeth and kicked hard with his hooves until the coyotes whimpered, but they were many and they were hungry. Patric grew tired and afraid for himself and for Harry. Patric was a Mountain pony, and he had raced many times around the meadow with Harry the rabbit. He was strong and tough, and he was agile, but he wondered how long he could hold out against so many determined attackers? Desperately, he kept on fighting, pushing the coyotes back away from the tree, but he was tired and he was weakening.
The coyote leader saw that that he was weakening and urged on the pack. "Soon, soon, the pony is ours," he howled.
Then suddenly, from over the fence that ran from one end of the meadow to the other, out of the corner of one eye, Patric glimpsed a large, white shape. Is it a ghost? he wondered. The coyotes saw the strange white shape too, and they stopped to watch. All the hair on their backs stood on end, and they growled. What was it? It had a long, white, flowing coat and a long, long tail. It seemed to float...
