Marguerite Henry

“ The fourth day of the storm. Gray skies over Chincoteague. Rain off and on. Temperature rising. Wind and tide slowly subsiding. The causeway in use again—red ambulances carrying off the sick, yellow school buses the well, dump trucks removing the dead chickens.
Misty in the kitchen at Pony Ranch is growing restless. Her hay is gone. The water in the sink is gone. She is bored with the squeaky, squirmy kittens, and tired of looking out the window. Nothing seems to happen. No ponies frisking. No dog teasing her to come out and play. No birds flying. No friendly human creatures. ”

“ And just by listening to the resounding voice, Paul and Maureen could see God commanding Noah to build the ark, big and flat-bottomed, and they could see the flood waters rising and the animals marching in, two by two.
"God is in the rescue business," the preacher's words rolled out, "and every believer is a member of His rescue force. Today we pay special tribute to the United States Coast Guard. In the sight of God, men who do not know the harbor of His love are like men lost at sea, grasping for something or someone to save them. ”

“ Maureen brushed away a tear. How could a creature be so young and breakable-looking, and yet so spunky? "Why, I feel like I'm its grandma!" she whispered shyly. "And hasn't it got the longest eye-winkers and the curliest tail you most ever saw?"
Paul whispered too. "Look at the strange marking on her forehead—it's in the shape of a new sickle moon! I know!" he exulted. "That's 'cause she was born in the time of the new moon."
Grandpa stared. "She's the onliest colt I ever see with a markin' like that."
"Yes," Dr. Finney said. "There's nothing like her on the Eastern Shore." ”

“ For many years now Assateague has been preserved as a wildlife refuge for ponies and deer and migrating waterfowl. On clear days herds of the wild ponies can be seen thundering along its shores, manes and tails flying in the wind.
Assateague, then, belongs to the wild things. But Chincoteague belongs to the people—sturdy island folk who live by raising chickens and by gathering the famous Chincoteague oysters and clams and diamond-backed terrapin. ”

“ Misty snorted as if to say, "What you doing here? Go on back to your briar patch!" But the rabbit never budged, not even when Misty stretched out her neck and breathed right in its face.
Grandpa guffawed. Even then the cheeky little thing stood its ground, more afraid of the rising water than of people or ponies.
"He's sassing Misty," Paul laughed. "'Don't eye me, ma'am,' he's saying, 'I been flooded out. Same as you.'"
At last Misty grew bored and ambled across the porch, through the back hall, and right into the kitchen. ”

“ A thousand people were no longer in a darkened theater. They were transported to a wind-rumpled island with sea birds crying and wild ponies spinning along the beach. By pure magic they were playing every role. They were roundup men spooking out the wild ponies from bush and briar, and suddenly coming upon the Phantom with her newborn foal, Misty. ”

“ Paul and Maureen nodded, too tired for words.
"You can each have two cups. And all the biscuits you can eat, with gooseberry jam. I figger the starving people of the world would think this a Thanksgiving feast, don't ye?"
"Yes, Grandma."
"And since you still got work on Misty's stall, you don't need to hang my rug outside today. I got all the windows open and there's a good breeze blowing in."
"Thank you, Grandma."
"Now, you two perten up. Everything's going to be better this afternoon. Life's like a teeter-totter. Heartbreak, happiness. Happiness, heartbreak. You'll see. ”

“ Misty was lying asleep, with Skipper back-to-back. The light brought the collie to his feet in a twinkling. He almost knocked Grandpa down with his welcome. Misty opened wide her jaws and yawned in Grandpa's face.
He couldn't help laughing. "See!" he told himself. "Nothing to worry about. Hoss-critters is far smarter'n human-critters." He fumbled in his pocket and found a few tatters of tobacco and said to himself, "Watch her come snuzzlin' up to me." And she did. And he liked the feel of her tongue on his hand and the brightness of her eye in the beam of his flashlight. ”

“ Up ahead, a helicopter was letting down a basket to three people on a rooftop. Grandpa gaped at the noisy machine in admiration. "I itch to be up there," he shouted, "lifting off the old and the sick."
Paul too wanted to do big rescue work.
As if reading his mind, the driver turned to him. "Son," he said, "do you feel strong enough to save a life?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Good. You know Mr. Terry—the man who has to live in a rocking bed?"
Paul nodded. "It rocks by electric, but he's got a gasoline generator now. Mrs. Terry was telling Grandpa last night." ”

“ He turned to Maureen, and his voice was tight and toneless. "Me and Paul have done a lot of yelling today, and we're both wore out. We just don't feel talky, do we, Paul?"
"No, Grandpa."
"Suppose you and Grandma be like Red Cross angels and tote our suppers over here. We'd ruther not eat up to the big table with ever'body."
As Maureen and Grandma heaped the trays and carried them back, Maureen's lip quivered. "Oh, Grandma, Paul didn't even ask what I did today. He doesn't even know I was at Doctor Finney's, riding a famous trotter. Oh, Grandma, why was I born a girl?" ”

“ Watch Eyes and Billy Blaze were used to surf and boggy marsh, for they had been on many a wild pony roundup. Feeling ahead for footholds they pushed forward, step by step, not seeming to mind the water splashing up on their bellies.
Grandpa, on Blaze, cupped one hand about his mouth and yelled above the wind. "Turn off at Rattlesnake Ridge, Paul. We'll stop at Barrett's Grocery first and get the news." ”

“ Promptly at nine forty-five the truck, now clean as water and soap could make it, rattled out of the yard with Grandpa and Grandma sitting dressed up and proud in the cab, and Maureen and Paul in back, feet dangling over the tailgate. The sun was shining for the first time in a week, and the sky was a luminous blue.
"Seems almost like it's Easter," Maureen said. "Seems different from other Sundays. Wonder why?"
"'Cause we're wearing shadow rolls over our noses, just like race horses." ”

“ Paul turned and waved back. He could see Grandma growing smaller and farther away, standing in front of the sign that said "Misty's Meadow." And even while he was feeling sorry for her, having to do up the dishes and go to the Ladies' Auxiliary and all, his mind raced ahead to Richmond. In sudden panic he wondered, Would there be anyone at the theater at all? Maybe the day was too nice, and children would be shooting marbles and flying kites and playing baseball, and they had seen the movie anyway. ”

“ As the family sat down at the long table, Paul whispered to Maureen, "I like the smell of goats better'n people, and we got two—a nanny and a kid."
"Oh, Paul, how beautiful!"
"They're not beautiful; they're really kind of funny-looking with their eyes so different from horses'."
"I know. They're bluey-yellow, and they look glassy, like marbles."
Paul and Maureen could hardly eat for all they had to say to each other.
"Misty's at Doctor Finney's, Maureen. She can't keep on postponing forever and she can't go on living in Grandma's kitchen. Ain't healthy and airy for her. ”

“ Finney stopped his rubbing. He saw that all was well. Reluctantly he left the stall.
Minutes later he was on the telephone. Young David stood behind him, listening in amazement and disgust. How could grown-ups be so calm, as if they'd just come in from repairing a fence or pulling weeds? He wanted to do hand-springs, cartwheels, stand on his head! But there was his father's voice again, sounding plain and everyday.
"Yes, Paul. She delivered at dawn."
"A mare-colt, sound as a dollar."
"Yes, I'm making Misty a warm mash. Just waiting for it to cool a bit."
"No, Paul, she's just fine. ”

“ Grandpa clucked as he and Paul went inside. "Seems like we're intrudin'. Eh, Paul?"
Paul's surprise turned to resentment. "Least you could've done, Maureen, was to wake me up."
"And who usually goes off alone?"
"Who?"
"You! Remember when you sneaked Grandpa's boat and went to Assateague all alone?"
"Oh, that! That was no place for a girl."
"Stop it!" Grandpa shouted. He gave Maureen a gentle spank, then turned to Paul. "We've got all the makings here. You and Maureen fix a hot mash for Misty. I'll wade over to the hay house and see to Watch Eyes and Billy Blaze and the mares. ”

“ And here on the home front, the tiny flooded island of Chincoteague has aroused the sympathy of the whole nation. The islanders, whose livelihood depends on chickens and sea-food and ponies, have suffered a savage blow to all three industries. Their oyster beds are gone; their chickens are gone. And today's report indicates that only a remnant of the wild pony herds on Assateague Island have survived. These are the ponies that made Chincoteague famous for the annual roundup and Pony Penning celebration, and that have brought visitors by the thousands. ”

“ Speak up, Clarence."
Grandpa took off his hat and let the wind pick up the wisps of his hair. "Yup, Idy," he nodded, "yer kitchen's a nursery now with four little ones...."
Grandma wailed. "Oh, my beautiful new table all bit up, and my linoleum ruint."
"Pshaw! The little ones ain't bigger'n nothing," Grandpa said, flashing a wink at Paul.
At the door of the mess hall Maureen stopped in her tracks and began jumping up and down as if she had the answer to a riddle. "It's Wait-a-Minute!" she shouted. "She's had kittens again!"
Paul smiled. "Yep, Grandma's kitchen is a mew-seum now." ”

“ Then, feeling satisfied, he gave Misty a gentle pat on the rump. As he went out, he bolted both the top and the bottom of her door.
He joined Grandpa, who was gathering up four fluffy black mallards, too young to fly, and putting them in a high cage in the hay house. The peacocks and banties were already roosting in the pine trees. Wherever Paul and Grandpa went, Skipper ran ahead, enjoying the wind and the feeling of danger and excitement. At the kitchen door he left them, jumping into his bed in the truck. Habit was stronger than the wind. ”

“ Misty and Paul and David were first to peer inside. The two boys were suddenly friends, buyers, judging an odd assortment of goats.
Grandpa stuck his nose into the truck and sniffed noisily. "I jes' don't like 'em," he insisted. "They smell from here to Kingdom Come. To me, a polecat smells purtier."
But Paul was ecstatic. "They can't help it, Grandpa. And besides, Misty needs someone to play with, now that Skipper's gone."
"She'll have her colt," Grandpa reminded.
Paul was not listening. "I like that brown nanny with the little white kid." ”

“ She looked far out on the marsh, at the ponies grazing peacefully. "Well, the way the mares do it," she said at last, "is to go off a day, mebbe more, and hide in some lonely spot. And the next time you see her come to the watering trough, there's a frisky youngster dancing alongside. Why, one mare swum clean across the channel to Hummocky Isle to have her baby, and three days later they both come back and joined the herd—even that little baby swum."
"But they're wild, Grandma," Paul said. "Misty's different. She's lived with people since she was a tiny foal." ”

“ Maureen asked in alarm.
"I'll stay with Misty," Grandma announced without turning around. "Much as I dislikes treating ponies like folks, I admit to a kinship when she's having a baby."
Grandpa cut open the can of beans with his knife. "Paul," he growled, "mebbe ye can explain things to yer Grandma."
"It's true, Grandma," Paul said, helping himself to the heel of bread. "Tide's coming back four foot higher, and the island's going to be contamin—going to be spoilt rotten with dead chickens and stinky fish and snakes and mushrats and maybe even dead horses." ”

“ Grandma wiped her spectacles with her apron. "Must be steam in the room," she said.
Grandpa had one more thing to say. "Fer jes' this oncet in my life I wisht I was a waterman 'stead of a hossman. When oysters die, ye can plant another bushel, and when boats drift away, ye can build another. But when ponies die ... how can ye replace 'em?"
Paul glanced around in sudden terror. It was as if a cold blade of fear had struck him. His eyes sought Maureen's. They were very dark and wide and asking.
Was Misty all right? ”

“ Grandma said. "Mebbe they'd like to cut it in chunks and bake it with potatoes for tomorrow. I'd feel a heap happier if I could help," she confided to Maureen.
When the table was readied, people began forming in line. And all at once they were no longer trapped animals. They were human beings again, smiling at one another, sharing stories of rescue. Drawn by the smell of food, a long-eared pup shot out of a blanket and ran toward the table, his mistress after him.
Paul and Maureen joined the chase. "How'd you do it? How could you bring your dog?" Paul asked. ”

“ Grandpa scanned the sky for stragglers, but he saw none. Only gray wool clouds, and an angry wind pulling them apart. "Looks like a storm brewing, don't it?"
Paul laughed. "You should've been a weatherman, Grandpa, 'stead of a hossman. You're always predicting."
"Allus right, ain't I? Here, Maureen, you run and hang up the scuttle. I can whiff Grandma's bacon clean out here, and I'm hungry enough to eat the haunches off'n a grasshopper." ”

“ Almost there, Paul saw the higher ground of Pony Ranch with the buildings still standing brave and whole—the cottage, its green roof darkened by the rain, the made-over chicken coop and the hay house and the smokehouse—but they looked littler than before, and somehow frightened, with the sea creeping up on them.
At the gate Grandpa made his decision. "Ride down to the smokehouse, Paul," he said. "Pick us out a big ham. If we got to go, we ain't showin' up over on the main empty handed. I'll dry off Billy Blaze and see about Misty." ”