Chapter 6

            Abby was soon saddle-sore from riding Apple.  When she stopped that afternoon for lunch under a tree, she could hardly walk.  She stretched as she pulled a rope out of her bag to tie Apple to the tree where she could graze in the shade.  Once they were both full, Abby climbed back onto Apple. 

            The countryside they traveled through was hilly meadows dotted with clumps of ancient oak trees.  There not being enough rain for crops, there were hardly any farms or people.  The dusty road wound up and down, broken only by the occasional pebble-strewn stream.

            As evening approached, Abby started looking for places where she could bed down for the night.  She noticed a stand of oaks near the path and rode up to it.  A stream had carved out its own channel through the dirt and tree roots and the tree branches formed a roof overhead.  Abby could tell from the circle of blackened rocks that other travelers had stopped here too.  She got off Apple and picketed her by the stream.  Then she unpacked her bedroll and the sack of food her mother had sent.  Then she took a drink from the stream and filled her canteen.  She neatened the fire pit and began to gather sticks.  She found a small pile of logs leftover from another camper’s visit and pulled two toward the fire pit.  At first, her attempts to start a fire were fruitless.  At home, it was her mother who had always started the fires in the morning and her father who banked it in the evening.  After a multiple attempts, a spark came out of her flint and stone and lit the small pile of grass she had put beneath the teepee of sticks. 

            “Horses are lucky they have a warm coat and can eat grass,” Abby exclaimed to Apple as she blew on the spark to coax it into a flame.  Once it caught, she carefully put more sticks on it and finally pushed the log against the flames.  With luck, it would catch and then burn gently all night. 

            Once her bedroll was laid out and Apple standing contentedly nearby, Abby put some jerked meat and dried apples on a stick and held them over the fire.  When they were gone Abby sat against the remaining log.  The sun was setting and lightning bugs were coming out.

            “It’s kind of lonely without Mathew, Ryan, Delaney, Caleb, and Rosie.  I’ll bet they had stew for dinner and are all finished with the dishes.  I wonder how their birthday was.  They won’t be able to save any pie for me- it won’t last that long.” She sighed.

            A lightning bug landed on her pillow and she held it for a moment to watch it blink on and off.  The stars came out and Apple neighed quietly.

            The next morning Abby woke up early.  Beyond the trees she could see a mist floating over the hills of grass.

            “It’s cold in the mornings,” she said groggily.  “If the ground weren’t so hard, I wouldn’t get up.” 

            Apple neighed in agreement as Abby got up and rolled up her blankets.  Then she went over to the fire and poked it with her stick.  A few coals still glowed so she scooped up dirt and covered the entire pile of charred sticks and coals.  After more jerked meat and dried fruit, she saddled up Apple and adjusted all her packs.