Castaway by Joanne Van Os Page A

little foal trotted along beside his mother.
    ‘He’s so gorgeous!’ sighed Tess. ‘I can’t wait till he’s ready to start breaking in!’ She climbed into the paddock and stroked the handsome dark brown foal, who nickered and frisked around. ‘He’s the image ofSaxon, isn’t he? He has the same white hooves and everything.’ Tess had waited impatiently for the foal’s birth, as everyone had agreed that this one would be hers.
    ‘What are you gunna call him?’ asked George.
    ‘I don’t know yet. I’m going to wait and see what his personality’s like first.’
    ‘I wish Sabre hadn’t hurt his leg,’ moaned Darcy. He looked back across the paddock at Saxon, who was grazing slowly up behind the other horses. ‘You don’t reckon …?’
    The others just laughed at him. ‘You’ve gotta be kidding, Darce. You on Saxon again? Once was enough, wasn’t it?’ The last time Darcy had tried to ride the big brown stallion – when no one was looking – he’d ended up with a broken arm, and got them all grounded as well. Saxon was Sarah’s horse, and the only other person he allowed on his back was Sam.
    ‘Toby’ll be fine,’ Sam told him. ‘He’s smart enough around buffalo.’
    They led the horses through the gate and down to the hay shed, where Uncle Mungo and Jock were waiting with the shoeing gear. Uncle Mungo turned out to be a top class farrier, something Sam hated to admit. He rasped the horses’ hooves and tacked their shoes on quickly and efficiently and never once pricked a hoof.When the shoeing was finished, they took the horses to the yards so they would be easy to catch and saddle the next morning, and gave them some hay.
    Uncle Mungo came over to the yard, a halter in his hand. ‘Nice lot of horses you got here,’ he said. ‘Good and quiet to shoe as well.’ He rubbed his beard for a moment, and then said, ‘Ah, Sam, give us a hand with Sabre, will ya? I need ter check if his stitches are ready to come out.’ He turned to the others. ‘You lot go and tell Jaz we’ll be up fer smoko shortly, would ya?’
    Sam sullenly accompanied his uncle to the horse paddock. Sabre was close by, and Sam whistled him up easily enough, then slipped the halter over the gelding’s head.
    ‘Ya got a good way with horses, Sam. Now, let’s have a look at that leg …’ Uncle Mungo bent to examine the foreleg while Sam held Sabre’s head and soothed him quietly. ‘Needs a couple more days, I reckon,’ said Uncle Mungo. He straightened up and unbuckled the halter. They watched as the big gelding wandered off, head down in the grass.
    ‘Somethin’ ya want ter say to me, Sam?’
    ‘Nope.’
    ‘’Cause I get the feelin’ yer not happy with me bein’ ’ere. I know yer worried about yer dad, but we just have to manage things till he gets back. I’m not tryin’ ter takehis place or nothin’. You tell me if I make mistakes or do things different t’ how Mac would do ’em, okay?’
    ‘Yep.’ Sam stared up the paddock at the horses. Uncle Mungo looked sideways at him for a second or two, then let out an exasperated sigh and said, ‘May as well get back for smoko then.’
    And they trudged back to the homestead in an uncomfortable silence.
     
    Later, Uncle Mungo and Old Jock went over to the machinery shed to get the bull catchers ready and have a last look around the fence line before they mustered the buffaloes into their new paddock the next day. Sam, George and Darcy sat at the dining table playing a game while Tess quietly took some lunch in to Kalila.
    Jaz put a pile of letters on the other end of the table, and sat down with a notebook and a small dictionary. ‘Hey, guys,’ she smiled at them. ‘Thought I’d have a change of scenery.’ She took a letter out of its envelope and opened a small book and placed it on the table beside her. ‘My grandmother writes to me every few months, but I need a dictionary to read what she says.’ She smoothed out a folded page of closely written