Free Ticket to Curlew by Celia Lottridge

understood the emergency at once. “Of course you should go and no, Matt, you can’t go along. Sam must ride as fast as he can. Just stay near the wagon track, son, and remember that it gets dark earlier now.” She gave him bread and butter and a glass of milk and put some dried apples in his pocket. Prince had a good drink of water at the trough and then they were off.
    As Sam turned Prince west out of the farm gate, he was suddenly filled with excitement. He hoped he would find the oxen, but not too soon. He had been waiting for a chance to take Prince for a real gallop across the country.
    He looked around carefully. There were no oxen to be seen. He decided that he would let Prince gallop for ten minutes or so, then slow him and take a good look around. That way they would cover distance and still take time to search the open landscape.
    It took a little urging to get Prince to gallop. He turned his head and looked at Sam as if to say, “Do you really want me to exert myself?” But once they found a rhythm together it was wonderful. Sam felt Prince’s warm back rising and falling and the wind blowing his hair straight back. The brown grasses flew past in a blur.
    Suddenly he remembered the oxen. “Whoa, Prince,” he said. “We have a job to do.” He held Prince to a walk for some minutes while he scanned the prairie for the missing beasts. Then he urged his horse to a gallop again. Once Prince had the idea, he willingly galloped, then walked, then galloped. Sam was sure that he was enjoying himself, too.
    Looking ahead along the track, Sam thought he recognized the stretch he and Matt had stumbled along in the dusk. He leaned forward to pat Prince’s neck.
    â€œI’m glad you’re here now, boy,” he said.
    Then he heard hoofbeats behind him. At first he thought he was just remembering the sound of the wagon on that night. But this sound was too loud for memory. Sam turned around, and there was Gregor on his big black horse.
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    The small white horse and the tall black one stood side by side on the wagon road. The two boys looked at each other.
    â€œAllo,” said Gregor. He smiled but he looked puzzled. He pointed down the track and raised his eyebrows at Sam.
    â€œHello,” said Sam. He was thinking hard. If he could make Gregor understand about the strayed oxen, he might be able to help find them.
    Sam shaded his eyes and peered all around to show that he was searching for something. Then he pointed at Prince and at Gregor’s horse and shook his head. He held up two fingers and hunched his shoulders, hoping he would look a little like an ox.
    Gregor looked puzzled.
    Sam pointed to himself and to the north side of the track. He drew the shape of a house in the air with his hand. Then he pointed to the south side of the track and drew another house.
    â€œMartingale,” he said and looked hopefully at Gregor.
    Gregor nodded vigorously. “Martingale,” he repeated.
    That was good, Sam thought, but not enough.
    There was only one thing to do. He slid off Prince’s back and got down on his elbows and knees, lowered his head, poked his fingers up above his ears to indicate horns and slowly crawled down the track. After a minute he looked up to see Gregor standing beside his horse nodding and laughing.
    Sam stood up. He pointed in all directions, shrugged his shoulders and held out empty hands to show loss. Gregor suddenly looked serious. Sam knew that he finally understood.
    Gregor frowned for a moment. Then he said, “Sam!” He put his fingers above his ears like horns and said a word.
    Sam said, “Oxen? You mean oxen?”
    â€œOxen,” repeated Gregor. They stared at each other. It seemed that a whole world of communication had opened between them.
    â€œOxen!” they both shouted and shook hands for the second time.
    Then Gregor stopped smiling. For a moment he stood perfectly