Free The Quicksand Pony by Alison Lester

smell.’
    Joe pulled Devil’s ears and rubbed the loose skin around his face. This was how their games usually started, but not tonight. Instead of pricking his ears and leaping away for Joe to chase him, the dingo walked back to the hut and lay down, settling his chin onto his paws with a sigh.
    â€˜You know, don’t you? You know I’m going.’ Joe sat beside him and ruffled the stiff yellow coat. ‘You’re such a smart dog. You always know what’s happening. But I’ve got to go. You belong here, but I don’t. I need to be with people.’ A sob caught in Joe’s throat. He pressed his face into Devil’s neck and wiped his tears on the fur. ‘Devil, I don’t want to leave you.’
    The dingo sat and watched him steadily while he made a small fire in the fireplace and fried the bacon. He didn’t take his eyes off Joe as he moved in and out of the hut, gathering his things. Joe was so tired he couldn’t think straight, and kept changing his mind about what he was taking and what he was leaving behind. He’d have to go as soon as they’d eaten the bacon. He groaned at the thought of the walk back to the holding yards. It was such a long way, and now the night was really black. The bacon smelt so good. Joe grabbed a piece out of the pan and ate it, burning his fingers and his mouth but too hungry to care.
    â€˜Ow! Mmmnn. Oh, that’s delicious.’ He tossed a rasher to Devil. ‘Here, boy, here’s a bit for you.’ The dingo looked down his nose at the sizzling morsel as if to say, ‘If that was the last food on earth, you traitor, I wouldn’t eat it.’
    Joe leaned against the side of his hut and pulled Devil to him. The fire warmed them as they nestled together. I’ll just rest for a little while, he thought, just shut my eyes for a moment before I go.
    When he had been asleep for a short time, Devil bent down and delicately picked up the bacon. He ate it with great care, licked every trace of fat from his muzzle, then settled his head and slept before the fire.

Joe forced his eyes open. Where was he? Why was he outside his house, not in his snug bed? Dawn was breaking. Ugh, his body was stiff and sore. The first rays of sun were filtering into the gully and the scrub wrens were calling and flitting through the bush. No! He suddenly remembered. He should be back at the holding yards now, not here. He’d miss them! They’d go up the beach with the cattle and never even know he was here.
    He grabbed the bag he’d packed last night. If he ran he might catch them. He’d heard Lorna say they had more mustering to do in the morning, before they left. ‘Come with me, Devil. Come on!’ he called to the dog. ‘Keep me company some of the way.’
    He started running along the gully floor, silently on the soft moss, and Devil loped behind him.
    He ran for hours. Slipped, fell, got up, and ran again. Through the swordgrass, across the marshes, along the tea-tree tunnels. If I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, he told himself, I can keep going. When he climbed across the boulders on the side of Windy Ridge he could see the sea sparkling out to the west. It was a beautiful day, clear and bright. They would have been up early.
    He hurried along the ridge, leaping from rock to rock, and stopped at the last overhang to peer down towards the holding yards, looking for some movement, for a sign of life. He couldn’t see the beach from here because it was blocked by the shoulder of the hill. Maybe they were out there already. Or they could still be mustering. He looked up at the sun; it was almost directly overhead. He’d have to go down to the camp to see.
    He began to stumble off, then realised Devil wasn’t following him. ‘Oh, mate! Come here.’ He dropped his bag and reached his arms out to the dingo, who jumped down to him. ‘I’ll never forget you,