it was in the very early hours of the morning when little queen was rudely awakened by the sudden rising of her mother, upon whose warm flank her little head was lying. as her consciousness lighted up, she became aware of a most disturbing odour in the air. forms of restless horses moved about in the semi-darkness and the rhythmic sound of hoof-beats told of threatening danger. her mother was standing next to the white mare in a group that seemed transfixed by a reddish light which came from the southwest. in the distance, on the horizon, was a low crescent of fire. far away as the fire was, queen could see the flames creeping. it looked very much like a vast herd of glowing creatures, among which, now and then, one leaped high above the others.
terrified so that the very muscles in her body quivered, she sprang toward her mother and pushed her way in between the two mares. fire had been part of the horrible process in the corral, but that fire had been as nothing to this. she was afraid! she wanted to run, and she worried about their standing still.
the black colt on the other side of his white mother was not the least bit frightened. he had as yet met with nothing baneful in fires and they only interested him. at that moment, having slept well and fed well and feeling unusually good, he wanted very much to frisk about and play. he trotted over to queen and mischievously butted her from behind, pushing her half way out from between the two mares. queen was much too nervous to tolerate his playfulness. with an impatient toss of her head she moved back against her mother and called for help. the old buckskin herself was in no mood for trifling and drove the black colt away with an angry threat. the white mare, who was as indulgent a mother as the buckskin, took the matter so seriously that there would have been trouble but for a sudden blast of wind, loaded with smoke.
there was a hurried clatter of hoofs and the herd started away as with one impulse. down slopes, through wide hollows, up hills, leaping over badger holes and stones, they ran, half enjoying the excitement. occasionally they stopped to look back with glaring eyes upon the flames that swept along in their wake, still far, but unmistakably nearer every time they stopped.
with the coming of full daylight the flames lost their brilliance and the colts, tired of running, would stop every once in a while and noisily protest to their mothers, who kept a short distance ahead of them. they would then walk slowly and whinny till a new gust of wind with a new offensive cloud of smoke would frighten them and send them on again with renewed energy.
but their endurance was rapidly giving out and toward the middle of the day they refused to run any more. their mothers, a few paces ahead of them, called to them solicitously, ran on as if they meant to desert them, then seeing that that did not move them, they came back calling coaxingly and tried to encourage them. a step at a time, their heads bobbing wearily, their sides wet, they lumbered along complainingly.
the prairie fire kept gaining upon them. the mothers’ anxiety turned into desperation. they came back to them and getting behind them fairly pushed them along. suddenly a blazing thistle, driven by the gale, rolled into their midst. all weariness, all aches and pains were at once forgotten. as if they were controlled by a single mind, they bounded forward, re-entering the race for life with an energy which they themselves did not know they had.
the sun with smiling indifference moved rapidly down the lower half of its diurnal arc. the wind tore along behind them with irregular force and with a constant changing of direction. the smoke it had borne all day had grown less and less perceptible. the weight of queen’s body dragged more and more irresistibly downward. her head began swimming in waves of weariness that were inundating the whole of her body; but she struggled on bravely, though she vaguely felt that it would not be long before she would be forced to give up the struggle. then, as she reached the top of a hill, she beheld through the film of moisture on her eyes, the mares and the stronger colts who had gone on ahead, now grazing on the other side of a long, black, dried mud spot down in the hollow.
that the wind had veered decidedly, taking smell and smoke and fire off to the east, they had not even noticed. they had been running unnecessarily for some time, impelled by the fear of the burning thistle. the sight of the herd grazing with apparent fearlessness reassured them. most of the stragglers walked on ahead to join them, but queen selected a soft spot on the grass and dropped to the ground with a sigh.
hunger had no power over her now. she stretched out her legs and her head and relaxed, sinking willingly into the stupor that swept over her. her mother near her cropped the delicious grass with avidity; but the long-drawn sighs that came from her little one and the rapid sinking and swelling of her wet sides, worried her. she walked over to queen, whinnied softly and licked the perspiration from her little body. little queen continued to breathe heavily but a note of relief entered the sound of her breathing, and now more comfortable she fell asleep.
but if queen had gone to sleep thinking that her exhausting journey was over, she was doomed to disappointment. she woke shortly after she had fallen asleep, with a most intense desire to drink. on the hill above the hollow she saw the greater part of the herd already moving on. some of the mares and their colts near queen were starting away and her mother was calling her, very evidently moved by the same urge. there was nothing behind them forcing them to go. there was no discussion of any sort to make clear the need for going. in the mind of each of them there was the image of a slough. it was a sort of composite image of all the sloughs they had ever drunk from and with that image like a mirage on the prairie distance before them, they doggedly hit once more the unbroken trail to the north.
all day and most of the evening they continued the discouraging advance without coming even to the bed of a dried-up slough. that night they grazed a little and slept a little, but the thirst for water, somewhat weakened by the coldness of the early night, soon reasserted itself and sent them restlessly going again. the morning brought some relief. the ground was covered with a thick frost and the grass they ate partially quenched their thirst. but by the time the sun was quite high on its arc they were as thirsty as ever and soon commenced the weary march once more.
it was in the early evening that they came at last upon a half-dried slough toward one end of which there was a good sized hole full of water. the surface of the water was covered with a layer of ice. with her hoof one of the mares made a large hole in the ice and as many as could squeeze into the first circle around it, drank till some of the others began to fear that there would be no water left for them. some pushed the drinkers greedily and even nipped at them but the others just waited patiently.
her mother was one of the first to drink, but little queen waited till she saw two of the horses—strangers to her—turn away. the old work-horse whose good nature had impressed itself upon her at the haystack, and who by daylight seemed even more kindly disposed, his sorrel coat somehow intensifying his harmlessness, took half the space they left and queen walked up beside him. the old fellow’s upper lip trembled in soft assurance of his friendship. very grateful to him queen bent down and drank, a few inches away from his head, keeping her eyes on the reflections in the water, raising her head hastily just as soon as one of the reflections moved.
the world seemed altogether different to her after that drink. it seemed as if every wish of her little soul had been gratified. she was still tired but it was not a very painful tiredness and not strong enough to keep her from preferring the tender grasses in the old slough to resting.
night came again. the wind completely changed. it blew strong and cold now from the southeast. the sky was very clear and in the north just above the horizon many lights quivered. the old buckskin mare settled down comfortably in the midst of the other mares and little queen nestled up against her warm body. with her head upon her mother’s flank she delighted in her comfort and gazed at the northern lights, whose brilliant display did not seem to worry the older horses. yet so long as queen’s eyes were open they were fastened upon those lights; and so long as the little brain was awake it kept wondering with a bit of fear what they might mean, for they were different from fire yet moved as fire did.
she had slept a long time when she was awakened by the sound of anxious neighing that seemed far away and yet filled the air above the little valley. upon opening her eyes she beheld the northern lights so clear and so near that she trembled for fear of them, and was certain that the disorderly running about that she heard was due to the same fear. but when her mother jumped up and she followed, she discovered that the frightful odour of fire was coming on the wind from the south, where she had last seen the flames creeping behind her.
the same confusion, the same bewildering excitement and again the wearing race for life began. that they ran directly toward the northern lights convinced her that these were as harmless as the moon and stars. with very few differences this flight was like the first. though the discomfort of it was even more hateful to her, queen felt no impending breakdown and without realising it, she was stronger now.
dawn came and soon gave way to a somewhat dull day. the wind changed several times and finally for a while died down altogether. there was no trace of smoke in the air; but the south was now established as a region of horror and they continued their flight northward till late in the afternoon.
they ran down a steep hillside dotted with many knolls and stones and came into an elongated, bowl-like valley toward one end of which there was a small spring lake. there they stopped to drink, to graze and to rest.
just as the air in that valley bore no trace of smoke, the plains that stretched away from that valley bore no trace of man. a few grass-overgrown buffalo trails led from the lands above to the deepest part of the ancient lake and a bleached buffalo skull beside the main trail told the story of a day and its life that had passed.
a coyote den at the opposite end of the bowl and half way up the slope gave the only evidence of life about the lake. the rim of the bowl shut away the barrenness of the prairies above. the very dome of heaven rested upon the rim of that bowl and vast primordial spaces interposed protection against man’s greedy intrusions.
little queen drank some water at the ice hole, drank the milk that nature had prepared for her with all the care and concern of her mother’s love, then slept away another night at her beloved mother’s side, never even dreaming that this night was shutting fast forever the doors behind which lay the closed first period of her life.
