very silence around him, broken only now and then by the calling of a lone bird, seemed to join with the pain and make it worse. “This really, really, really hurts,” Snotty thought. He couldn’t catch his breath. It seemed to Snotty that he couldn’t breathe at all. As there was no one to see, Snotty sat back on the ground. He hugged his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead to his knees.
That was when he heard the Dog. “Grrrooowwfff!” it barked from far away, echoing up the hill. “Ggrroowwff.”
At this, Snotty’s breath came back in a rush, and he leapt up, looking around eagerly. “Hello?” he called out. “Dog? Where are you?”
“ggrroowf,” the bark came back, fainter now, as the Dog moved away. “ggrof.”
“Wait!” Snotty called. His voice echoed back to him. “Wait for me!” He scanned the landscape. Then he saw the Dog, a small black and gray splotch running farther down the hillside.
Snotty ran after it. But the Dog ran faster now, letting out a sharp bark, then a second. Snotty, tripping and falling and tumbling among the boulders dotting the hill, soon lost sight of it. “DON’T LEAVE ME!” he wailed, picking himself up and running forward, only to trip and fall again. Then there was silence, except for the sound of the bird. The Dog was gone.
Snotty bit his lip.
“I don’t care,” he said. “I always hated dogs anyway.” That made him feel better, and he walked on.
He felt even better—well, more comfortable, anyway—when, as he walked (and this he did more and more slowly with every step), the beautiful landscape disappeared. Now he could see that gray and brown part of the landscape up close. It was mud. Just mud. Only mud. And lots of it, too.
The sight of all that mud cheered him up no end. It reminded him of home, which is always nice when you’re far away from it.
There was lots of mud now. Snotty trudged across it. And the mud got muddier and muddier the farther he walked. It sucked at the bottom of his shoes, and before long it was up around his ankles, making squooshing noises.
He slogged on. But eventually he couldn’t go any farther. The mud was halfway up his legs now, sucking at his knees.
From the far off distance came a dull noise. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. This startled him, and he tried to go back the way he’d come. But he just stuck more firmly in the mud. It was up past his knees now—blackish and bad smelling. Every time Snotty heaved himself out, it heaved with him, covering more of his legs.
He was stuck.
“Okay,” he muttered once he found he couldn’t move an inch in any direction whatsoever, “enough’s enough. A joke’s a joke. Let me out of here, now!” He yanked hard with both arms at his left leg. At this, he lost his balance and fell into the mud face down.
“Bbbbllluurrrggghh?” he said. Then, “brrrarrrggggh?”
And then, his arms windmilling in the mud, “bbbbbrrrrraaaa-AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHH!” The more he thrashed about trying to get free, though, the deeper he dug himself in.
If it weren’t for his big nose, which had pushed an air pocket in the mud, he would have smothered there for sure.
“Fine!” he thought to himself, thoroughly annoyed. “So this is Nature! Great! Swell! Yeah!” He bitterly remembered his science teacher boring the class on and on about Nature’s glories. “I’d like to rub his face in this stuff just for...”
SSSLLLUUURRRRPPPPHHHHH! A Herculean effort on Snotty’s part managed to set one ear free. “Not that there’s anything to hear. Nothing but that stupid bird.”
But even that stupid bird had flown away, apparently. And then there was no sound at all.
This was the worst of all. Snotty lay there tensely, waiting for he didn’t know what.
Then, with his one free ear, he heard a voice.
“Excuse me,” it said in a pleasant and unhurried way. “Can I help?”
Chapter V
SNOWFLAKE
There was a pause while Snotty considered this.
“Yyyyeeerrrrrgggghhh,” he said, at last.
The voice considered this. “I’ll take that as a yes,” it finally said. And a nose—or something like a nose, anyway—snuffled at Snotty’s back. Snotty screeched, which came out “bbbllluuuurrrgggghhh.” Meanwhile the snuffly thing pushed here and there until it got a hold on Snotty’s jeans. These it grabbed between its teeth and with a SSQQQUUUIRRRCCCCHH! yanked him up out of the mud hole, dragged him through the sludge and deposited him on a rocky path.
“There,” the voice said in a pleased sort of way. “That’s better.”
Snotty gagged and spat out some muck. He sat up and, wiping the mud out of his eyes with his muddy forearm, looked at his rescuer.
This was a small white and silver horse.
Snotty blinked with surprise. The horse blinked back. It seemed just as surprised as he.
“Well,” the horse said. “Not what I expected at all!”
But then Snotty, to his great relief, recognized the little horse.
“I KNOW you!” he said, jumping up and down on the rocky path in his excitement. “You’re a PONY! I RODE you. At a funfair. I snuck in without paying. You had a saddle and a saddlebag and everything. And your name on the saddlebag. It was...it was...it was...” Snotty snapped his fingers together, trying to remember.
“Snowflake?” suggested the horse.
“That’s right!” Snotty said. “Snowflake! Exactly! But what are you doing here?”
“I remember, too,” Snowflake reminisced, nudging Snotty with his muzzle. They started down the path together. “You kicked me when no one was looking.”
Snotty looked ashamed. It was true. He had kicked Snowflake. But somebody had been looking—that was the whole point. Stan and the boys, sneaking into the fair after him, had stood there jeering at him for enjoying himself. Snotty had to do something. Anyone could have seen that.
“I didn’t want to kick you, exactly.” He tried to explain himself but it came out all garbled. “Besides,” he said, trying again, “I knew you wouldn’t mind, being so much more mature than them, and all.” But this sounded too whiny and wheedly, even to him. Finally, he gave up.
“Well, never mind,” Snowflake said.
“Anyway,” Snotty said lamely, “I’m glad to see you again.” But Snowflake didn’t answer and Snotty followed him in silence down a particularly steep and rocky stretch of the path. Snotty skidded once, right at the bottom, but Snowflake offered his shoulder, and Snotty steadied himself. That was when he saw the wound between the little horse’s eyes.
