Prairie Dreams: Duke and Earl (standard:adventure, 1055 words)
Author: drksideofthemoon	Added: Jul 26 2007	Views/Reads: 3173/2123	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Memories from the Alberta prairies.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

way through town to the fair grounds where the parade would start and 
end. Uncle Harry stopped the team and talked to the man in charge of 
the parade. We would have to make our way around the horse track and 
get in line, we were behind the pipers. 

As he pulled the team on to the track, Uncle Harry looked down at me.
"Hang on tight, let's show 'em what we can do." 

I held on tight as he snapped the reins and yelled, "Duke, Earl, step
lively now!" 

Their big heads snapped up as they leaned into the harness. Moving at a
quick trot their front legs came up high. People stopped what they were 
doing to watch. I swore I saw the horses' chests swell up with pride as 
they moved to a gallop. 

I could feel the air blowing in my face, my cowboy hat slipped from my
head and hung by the braided string from my neck. 

Here and there people applauded the sight of the Clydesdales in full
flight. I looked up at my uncle. The wrinkled old farmer had 
disappeared and had been replaced with a man full of pride of his 
horses. His tie flapped wildly over his shoulder like a banner of yore. 


"Yah, Duke! Yah, Earl!" He urged the horses on. 

The end of the track was quickly approaching, I saw him tug on one of
sets of reins. "Gee! Gee!" 

The big horses leaned to the left and followed the curve. I had to hang
on for dear life. I thought for sure I was going to be tossed off the 
side. Not a beat was skipped as they rounded the tight corner of the 
track. I could see their flared nostrils as their heads turned. 

As we neared where the parade was lined up he pulled back on the reins,
"Whoa, whoa laddies." 

He walked them the last hundred yards until we found our place in the
parade. 

After we pulled up to a stop, Uncle Harry looked at me with a grin as
wide as the Canadian prairies. "The day of the horse may be past, but 
it's not forgotten." 

He jumped down off of the wagon, brush in hand. He stroked the horses'
foreheads. His blue eyes glistened as he spoke to them. "You done us 
proud this day, lads. You showed them buggers how it was done." 

It's not forgotten. Even all these years later, the sight of a team of
heavy horses pulling in the harness still brings a tear to my eye. 


Tweet