In early spring, they came across a wagon train that had left their wintering grounds and was heading south. There were only three wagons, but the extra people would make the trip much safer. One wagon belonged to a drummer with all manner of pots and pans. The other two were older people that had decided to leave the cold climate looking for a better life and warmer weather down south. There were no children and that left Danny to help around the campfires, harnessing their teams and carrying water for the older people.
The weeks dragged on and summer came. It was a wonderful time for Mary; wildflowers were abundant all along the trail. Danny became the man of the wagon train and enjoyed the help he was able to give everyone on the train.
“Danny, come over here a minute, will you?” Mr. Fredrick called as they walked by their wagon one evening before dark. Tillie smiled at her son and indicated he should see what the kindly old wagon master needed as she and Mary walked over to see what was cooking for the evening meal.
“Danny, what do you think about my horse?” Mr. Fredrick said, patting the big red horse on the haunch.
“He is the most beautiful horse I have ever seen!” Danny commented, rubbing his hand along the neck of the big stud. “One day, I will own such a horse as this.”
The old wagon master replied, “He is more than a looker. I bred him to have stamina and staying power. He is a king among horses. I have sold all my prize horses except Red here. I could never sell such an animal as this. He has been with me constantly from his birth and trained like no other. Now you are just beginning a new life in a great land. What do you intend to do?”
“I don’t know. I have been too busy taking care of my baby sister and all the work along the trail to think about the future,” Danny replied
“Do you plan on ranching or farming?” Mr. Fredrick asked.
Without taking his eyes off Red, Danny responded, “I hope so. Mom and I sure want a piece of land for our own.”
“Then, you will need a good horse to start your breeding stock and they don’t get better than Red here,” Mr. Fredrick stated.
“Mr. Fredrick, I don’t have any money to buy such a fine horse as Red,” Danny said in awe.
With kindness in his eyes, Mr. Fredrick said, “I could never sell such a friend as Red. I want you to have him as a gift. We brought him along with us because he was the result of years of my work breeding great horses.”
Mr. Fredrick continued, “Red is a three-year-old and been gentle broke. He will make you a great stud and start you off on the right foot. I am too old to start over again. Red is too good a horse to fall into the wrong hands. You take him Danny. He will help you make a life for your ma and baby sister.”
“Mr. Fredrick, I should pay you for such a horse!” said Danny.
“Son, that’s the thing about a gift. It cannot be paid for and to try will spoil and tarnish the gift. It must be accepted as it is given, freely,” the kind old wagon master said.
Danny rubbed his hands along the horse’s neck with tears streaming down his face. Suddenly he turned and threw his arms around the kindly old man.
“You love that horse, son. I have seen the way you look at him. All I ask is that you take care of him proper. That is all the payment that I will ever need for Red. I bred him to be worthy of his Creator. The kind of steed our Lord will someday return riding on so now he is yours to care for. You take him so you and he can get to know and depend on each other,” Mr. Fredrick said.
The mountains became rolling hills. In the valleys, they crossed rocky brooks, coursing down the mountainsides carrying clear streams of water from the melting snow. This day the wagons made camp along a swift-running river. The wagons had followed it along all day, trying to find a safe place to cross. The day was waning and it wouldn’t be long until daylight was gone.
“We will make camp here and cross in the morning. It looks like we are in for a good soaking,” Fredrick said.
Dusk fell and the day was done. The cook fires started as John Fredrick paced nervously around the encampment. He said, “I don’t like this place. We have been seeing growing numbers of Indian tracks each day. I have to believe they know we are here. Tonight, we will place guards under each wagon and sleep in shifts. Tillie, you and Danny go round up the stock and bring them in off the grass. We will keep them in the wagon circle tonight. The rest of you keep your guns handy. Tomorrow we travel hard and fast. We should be well east of here and out of this country by week’s end.”
The worried look on Mr. Fredrick’s face was enough to get Tillie moving. Quickly she took Mary by the hand and the three set out to round up the stock grazing peacefully on the prairie grass.
“Danny, you put a halter on Red. You and Mary ride him back to the camp. I will walk behind and herd the mules and oxen,” Tillie directed.
“Mom, you think there are Indians around here?” Danny asked.
“I trust Mr. Fredrick and he is right worried. We need to take every precaution and be ready if trouble comes,” Tillie said.
Tillie was good with the mules, and they minded her as she worked them across the rich grassland. They didn’t want to leave the rich grass, but the whip she carried made them pay attention.
A hundred yards before the camp, Red shied and his head went up. Suddenly a chilling war cry sounded as Indians covered in war paint attacked the wagons from all sides. Fear gripped Tillie as Red shied away from the gully on his left as a brave ran from concealment. The brave doubled over as shots rang out from behind Danny and he knew his mother had shot the brave.
Suddenly, the big horse bounded to a run. In an instant, Danny and Mary were out of reach as another brave came up out of the grass. Danny heard the pop of his mother’s pistol again and again. Danny held tight to Red’s mane and lead rope while holding his sister in place as the big horse circled and tried for the wagons that now were ablaze. Indians lay around the wagons indicating the attack had not been a total surprise and the repeater rifles were doing deadly work in close combat.
Danny could not turn to see what had happened to his mother. He was too busy clinging tightly to his sister and holding them both in place. The big horse galloped across the grassland and sailed over a burning wagon. The Indians mounted a second attack from the riverbank this time overtaking the defenders by their sheer numbers.
“Go, Red! Run, boy!” John Fredrick shouted as he clubbed his way into the Indians with an empty rifle. The last thing Danny saw was the old man that he had learned to love, die in a hail of knives and tomahawks. No one was alive in the circle as the big horse heard the last command of his master and with lightning speed, he cleared the burning wagon on the opposite side of the camp and ran into the disappearing evening light. As Red raced across the prairie, several Indians on small horses pressed him, but the big horse glided across the tall grassland leaving their mounts winded from the race.
The savage cry of the war party echoed across the land as Mary held desperately to Danny’s arm shaking from fear. Miles away, Danny came back to the same river and stopped the big horse so he could drink. He slid from the back of Red too stunned to speak and shaking from fear, not knowing what to do next.
“I want my mommy,” Mary said, almost in a whisper.
“Mary, be quiet for a minute and let me think,” Danny said.
Quietly she clung to a blanket she always carried and sobbed, “Bubba, I want my mommy.”
Danny slowly got his wits about him and realized he still had his pistol and knife on his hip. His rifle was slung over his back and held by a leather cord. He also had hanging around his neck a leather pouch that held as many shells as he could carry.
Big Red’s ears went up. Danny turned to see a small band of Indians trailing him across the tall grass. He must get away from them and find a place to hide. The two mounted and Danny kept Red in the stream headed north into the hills keeping to the water for a long way before heading into the mountains. For hours they rode with Mary mercifully asleep against his arm as the big horse made his way through the hills picking his path long into the night. Finally, Danny gave up on finding a comfortable place to spend the night. Stopping, he slid to the ground and laid his sister on the grass.
“I want my mommy,” Mary uttered, half asleep.
Danny replied gently, “Mary, go to sleep. I will find Mother tomorrow and everything will be alright. Now you sleep.” Tears streamed down his face as he sat on the dark hillside, not knowing what or where they were or what had happened to their mother. Holding his little sister, he remembered the words he had spoken only months before, ‘Mother, I’m almost a man now. I can take care of you and Mary.’
A few hours later, with the moon full and the stars bright in the heavens, Danny became twelve years old. He was afraid but determined to take care of his sister and find his mother if she was still alive. The big horse munched on the tall grass a few feet from them and Danny settled back in the grass and fell asleep holding to his sister and the lead rope of the big horse.
The next morning sunlight on his face awakened him and he sat up looking around the countryside. A new day had dawned and birds sang, as a soft wind blew. Slowly, the cobwebs cleared from his mind and suddenly he was in a panic. Red was nowhere in sight. Laying his sister’s head on the grass, he tucked the blanket about her and walked across the grass looking for the big horse. With a sigh of relief, he saw Red drinking from a small stream of water that trickled from a rock formation. Danny was alarmed when he scanned the countryside. In distant grasslands, he saw the black specks of buffalo. Taking note of the scenery so he could find his way back again, he walked the horse back to where his sister still slept in the tall grass.
“We got to be going, Mary. We must find a place to get out of the weather and get some food,” Danny explained.
“I want my mommy, Bubba! I want my mommy right now, and I’m hungry!” Mary exclaimed.
“Mary, we got to find shelter and food. Then we can go looking for Mother,” Danny stated firmly.
“Bubba, did the Indians kill Mommy--huh?” Mary asked.
“No, Mary! Now quit asking so many questions!” He said as he led the horse out across the hills listening to his little sister ask one question after another. Most of all, she just wanted her mother.
The day drew on and they had not found a place to get out of the weather. Nor did they find anything to eat. With the sun directly overhead, Danny spied something ahead and angled across the valley. What he saw he wished he had not seen. Before them, a wagon train stretched out across the hillside. Some were overturned--some were burned. The skeletal remains of several horses were present though some of the bones were gone.
Fifteen wagons in all, in a single line. Danny knew from his experience on the wagon train that this one had been surprised and unable to circle up for protection. What canvas that had not been burned, flapped noisily in the breeze. They had met the same fate as the one he had been traveling. Danny slid from the horses back and went through the remains of the wagons.
He could find nothing of use. Everything was gone, even the tack and metal bolts holding the wagon frames together. The sight before them scared Mary, and she began to cry. “Don’t cry, Mary,” he said as he led Red off across the hills in the direction the wagons were heading.
In the late evening, the wind kicked up, and the weather began to change. Dark clouds and thunder sounded over the plains and moved in their direction. The wind brought something to Red and his ears worked back and forth as he pranced across the tall grass. “What’s wrong with you, boy?” Danny questioned Red softly, trying to calm the big stallion. Then a sound came to Danny and he realized something was approaching.
“Mary, something is coming! Get over here and get on this horse now!” Danny demanded.
“No, I am picking Mommy some flowers and you can’t make me!” Mary said pouting.
Danny raised his voice at Mary and said, “Get over here now! It might be Indians!”
That was the wrong thing to say. Mary ran over to Danny, holding tightly to her blanket, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Be quiet, Mary! I can’t hear with you screaming that away!” Danny pleaded.
Red’s eyes rolled and he would not hold still for Danny to get his sister on him. “Be quiet, Mary! You are scaring Red!” Almost throwing Mary on Red’s back, he worked the big horse behind a boulder. He stepped upon it and jumped straddling the big horse. Reaching around Mary, he grabbed a handful of Red’s mane. The sound grew closer, and the ground shook as thunder rolled over the hill. Suddenly lightning and thunder lit up the evening sky. Just as the first bolt of lightning struck in the distance, a herd of horses stampeded over the hill coming right for them.
“Go, Red!” Danny said as he wheeled the horse and raced off ahead of the herd at full gallop. All at once, horses were all around them. Danny gave Red his head and held on for dear life. Mary held Danny’s arm. Her blanket streamed like a red flag behind them as they were swept away in a mass of horses racing across the hills.