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whistle. The mare looked up immediately and trotted back around the pond to the copse of trees where Zack stood.  “That’s a good girl,” Zack said softly, impressed with the animal already. The mare took a step forward and nudged his shoulder, Zack laughed and rubbed her cheek a little. “Okay, let’s go then.” 
      The horse had cooled down so Zack took it easy at first and worked her up slowly from a trot, to a gallop, to a run. The road was dusty but smooth and the mare was as easy to ride as any he had ever been on. His shoulder-length hair blew back behind him and the grassland went by as a blur. Despite the pain, the fear and all that had happened, Zack felt momentarily free.
      He reached the stream with a couple of hours to spare before nightfall and decided to make camp in a depression in the otherwise flat grassland. The depression was a hundred yards or so off of the road and the stream ran right through it. Zack didn’t know anything about tracking people but he was an unusually sharp young man and imagined that a campfire out here in the flatland could be seen a long way off at night. The last thing he wanted was for the gang to know that they were being followed.
      First he removed the saddle and bridle from Grace and rubbed her down before leaving her to graze. Based on his experience with her earlier he felt no need to hobble her. It was a boys thought maybe but he felt trust in the animal not to leave him. He considered giving her some oats but thought better of it. If he wasn’t able to rescue his mother before they reached the mountains then the oats may be all that he had to feed her. Next he hiked up the stream bank and foraged for wood washed down from the mountains with the winter rains and the heavy spring snowmelt. It was easy pickings as he only intended a small fire.
      While washing up in the shallow stream Zack saw a large crayfish crawl under a rock beneath the water. He turned the rock over and grabbed the crayfish between its body and its tail to avoid the pincers and tossed it up on the bank. Wading out and turning more rocks he was easily able to find enough for his dinner.
      His dinner cooked and eaten he laid back against the saddle that Toby Martin had loaned him and opened his pack. He took out the two books that he had packed and examined them. The first one was called The Winter of our Discontent by someone named Steinbeck. Zack read the back and thought that it was a made-up story like The Wizard Oz . He set this aside and picked up the next one; it was called Mysteries of the Deep and it indicated that it was a book about the ocean. Zack had heard about the ocean from travelers and from other books that he had read, but didn’t think that he would ever go there. He set this book aside as well, marveling over how new they both looked. Next he took out the tube shaped object that he was sure was some kind of light. It may be worn out like the one on the wall in the cave he thought to himself turning it over in his hand. There was a small plastic piece on the side, which he slid back and forth. He then fumbled with the end that had the glass on it and found that it would unscrew and could be removed. As he took this piece off the tiny bulb inside fell onto his lap. He gingerly picked the bulb up and put it back into the hole that it fell out of, and then screwed the piece with the glass lens in it back on. The opposite end had a metal arm set into it that would flip out on a small hinge. Once the arm was out it had another smaller arm set into it that also flipped out on a small hinge. When both arms were out it was obvious to Zack that you were supposed to turn it like a crank, which he did; on the first turn there was a weak light from the end with the glass. Smiling now, Zack turned the handle faster and the light brightened to a brilliant white. He stopped turning the handle and the light stayed on. Completely fascinated now he slid the plastic protrusion on the