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For over five years, eleven-year-old Rowdy Miller had been watching a herd of wild horses come down to the creek and drink late every evening, just before sundown. He would sit quietly, not making a sound. They knew he was there and drank their fill, then walked over the hill out of sight or on down the creek.
This evening in early spring was different. A young colt seemed to be alone with no mother. It would try nursing any mare that stood still, but got kicked away.
“Poor thing. Must be starving.”
Rowdy slowly walked toward it, as it was alone well away from the other horses. He walked right up and petted and hugged that colt and spoke lowly. The colt seemed to enjoy it. After a short while, Rowdy looked at the lowering sun. He had to get home.
He turned and ran, the colt running after him. When he got to the barn, his dad Tim was milking one of the cows. “Dad, can I have a quart of that milk for this colt that followed me home? He sure seems hungry.”
“You can have this bucket in just a minute, it’s a quarter full. I’ll use the other one to milk Tilly.”
Genre: Western
This evening in early spring was different. A young colt seemed to be alone with no mother. It would try nursing any mare that stood still, but got kicked away.
“Poor thing. Must be starving.”
Rowdy slowly walked toward it, as it was alone well away from the other horses. He walked right up and petted and hugged that colt and spoke lowly. The colt seemed to enjoy it. After a short while, Rowdy looked at the lowering sun. He had to get home.
He turned and ran, the colt running after him. When he got to the barn, his dad Tim was milking one of the cows. “Dad, can I have a quart of that milk for this colt that followed me home? He sure seems hungry.”
“You can have this bucket in just a minute, it’s a quarter full. I’ll use the other one to milk Tilly.”
Genre: Western
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