Condor Mountain

By Angela Dorsey

Elena’s dad is injured and trapped with his horse, Gato, in the Andes mountains. Above them, the condors are circling, ready to strike as soon as they consider their prey weak enough. The man and horse need help, quickly.

Elena is the only one who can get to them on time, but she doesn’t want to believe that they’re in danger. She’s afraid to go into the mountains alone – and she certainly doesn’t trust the strange girl who says she’ll help, the girl who rides the wild mare that no one has ever been able to tame.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Enchanted Pony Books
• Release date: Jul 6, 2011
• ISBN: 9780987684813

Book preview

Gato. I cannot see you yet, but I can feel you. You stand over me, your forelegs press against my side. I can feel you tremble. Your terror, like a storm, crashes around me. Please be patient, Gato. Soon I can help you. Soon my strength will return.

The first time I shift to a place always takes so much energy. I am blind and weak and helpless for a time but the Great One protects me. Gato, the Great One will keep us both safe from harm. As you stand beside me, you are protected. There is no need to panic.  Please, Gato, beloved one, you must be calm.

Ah, now my eyesight is returning. I am on a winding trail, high in the Andes Mountains. It is a narrow trail, cut into a rock wall. Gato stands as far from the edge as he can, afraid and shaking.

And Fresa is below. She has fallen onto the jagged rocks. Gato tells me the black and white birds frightened her with their giant wings and her hooves slipped off the trail. I can see condors below, rejoicing. They will eat well tonight.

They are not intentionally cruel. It is the way of all beings, to feed themselves and their young. But poor Fresa. She was so frightened. I wish I could have been here to save her.

I see your owner as well, Gato, and he is not on the rocks with Fresa. He is alive, but unconscious, lying on a narrow ledge a short distance below. And there are no handholds, no footholds for him to use to climb back to the trail, even if he were aware. He is trapped.

First let me help you, Gato. Come, we must move from this narrow section of trail. Your rope is caught in a crack in the rocks. I will free it… but… wait… The Great One tells me no. The man’s daughter must rescue you. She is the one who is meant to save you both. And she needs my guidance. She cannot do it alone.

I pray that I will be able to bring her here. Quickly.

Chapter 2

Swift Wing and his mate, Thin Cloud, were fortunate. The horse had fallen easily. Just a beating of wings about its head and it bolted, then reared up and stepped back. Into nothing. The condor tore at the warm flesh, his offspring and mate beside him. He and Thin Cloud had taught their chick, High Wind, a good lesson today, one he would remember.

Swift Wing was grateful. Opportunities like this didn’t happen often. And, just as fortunate, no other condors had heard the horse’s last cry or the human’s yell and come to share in their feast. Yet. With luck, they would eat the choicest morsels before the others found them. Once the horse was spotted and the others descended, the carcass would quickly disappear. Too soon, Swift Wing, Thin Cloud and High Wind, who had just learned to fly, would be forced to move on, their eyes scouring the mountains for more food.

Swift Wing raised his head and looked at the cliffside trail above them. The human and the remaining horse were still there. He didn’t understand. Why would they wait? Didn’t they know he would be back if they didn’t leave? Swift Wing cocked his head sideways and stared at the creatures on the cliffside. He blinked in confusion. There was another there now. A bright one. One of the other-worlders. It would be a waste of energy to try to make it fall.

But the horse and the human? Yes, the birds could, and would, make them fall. If they were still on the cliffside trail when the feast was over, he would rally Thin Cloud, even if the other-worlder was still there. They’d ride the air currents to the trail again and frighten another into falling from the cliff. And this time they would enlist High Wind’s help. It would be another good lesson for him.

Swift Wing looked to the skies, his eyes sharp. Still no other condors in sight. For now, they were alone and the feast was theirs, but he knew they could be discovered anytime. The scent of blood was strong in the air and the carcass lay in the open. The male condor buried his beak into the mare’s open side.

Chapter 3

Jumping onto Mora’s bare back, Elena urged the Criollo mare into a lope. The last hour of school had seemed like three hours instead of one. She was impatient to get home. Today was the day her mother had gone to talk to the school principal and Elena could hardly wait to hear what he’d told her.

He has to help us. He has to lend us the books, she thought. It would mean so much to Juana.

Juana was six years old and had cerebral palsy. She couldn’t attend the local school because it was in a poor district and didn’t have the funds or resources to teach disabled children. Elena felt guilty going to school, learning to read and write, and learning about the world, while Juana stayed home day after day after day.

About three months ago, Elena first thought of teaching Juana by herself. She was reading a story to her little sister and Juana started asking questions about the letters. Elena explained how the letters made up the words and Juana understood right away.

When Elena first told her mother and father that she wanted to teach Juana to read, her father discouraged her. Why waste your time? he said, between bites of his supper. She’s never going to get a job. She’ll never have a family. It will only raise her expectations, and yours, and will lead to disappointment. She’s had enough of that in her life already.

Elena was so angry with her father she couldn’t speak. It was bad enough that he refused to let her do things because she wasn’t a boy, but to keep Juana from learning because she was physically disabled seemed more than cruel. But Elena didn’t have to speak. Her mother had scowled at him. Juana is a very bright girl, she said, her voice hard. Yes, Elena. You may teach her. Elena’s father just shrugged his shoulders and kept eating, and slowly Elena had relaxed.

Juana had learned quickly. Within two weeks, she knew her letters and words, such as the, cat and dog, that Elena had written on her slate. Soon Juana was ready for beginning readers, but there was no money to spare. That’s when Elena’s mother had promised her daughters that she would talk to the principal and see if they could borrow the books they needed.

Elena patted Mora on the neck. If the principal said yes, a whole new world would open for Juana when she learned to read. Elena knew Juana would continue to learn quickly. Their mother was right. Juana was smart. It was her jerky, tense muscles that disabled her, not her mind. Juana was too stiff and off-balanced to walk without support and she had trouble speaking clearly. Because she couldn’t talk like others, some people thought she couldn’t understand. Elena just wished their father wasn’t one of them. While she loved him very much, sometimes she found him impossible to like. She knew he was disappointed in both his daughters; in her because he had wanted a son to stand beside him, and in Juana because she would never be like other children.

The Criollo mare moved smoothly beneath Elena in a ground-eating lope. You’re in a hurry to get home too, aren’t you Mora? she said. But Fresa won’t be there yet. She won’t be back for another week. One of the mare’s ears twitched back to listen to Elena. I know you miss her and Gato, but you’ve got to be patient.

Fresa and Mora were half-sisters, bought from the same ranch. When Juana first saw the two slender three-year-old fillies being led into the yard, she was more exited than Elena had ever seen her. F…F…Fresa, she said and pointed to the red roan, then M…Mora, when she pointed to the grulla-colored filly. The names were perfect – Fresa meant strawberry and Mora meant blueberry. The energetic fillies had joined her father’s old buckskin gelding, Gato, in the pasture and, shortly afterward the breaking in had begun. The horses had cost all of her father’s hard-earned savings, but they were worth it. They were an investment in the family’s future. Her father needed dependable, hardworking animals if he was going to succeed with his llama herd and the other work he took on for local ranchers.

Fresa quickly became Elena’s father’s favorite and Mora was left to serve the rest of the family. Elena was overjoyed when Mora’s training and care was added to her chores. She liked Fresa’s spunk, but she loved Mora’s gentleness and quiet bravery. Soon she began to spend most of her free time with the horse. The tough Criollo mare loved their outings as much as Elena did. Her step was light and eager every time they left the corrals behind. They galloped over foothills and raced through the scrubby forests at the base of the Andes. Sometimes they rushed on for hours, feeling the wind dash against their faces and swirl around them. Other times they were content to simply walk and immerse themselves in the beauty of the hills and canyons, in awe of the plants and animals and birds that surrounded them.

To Elena, the Andes Mountains seemed like the most beautiful, most rugged, most glorious range in the entire world. She dreamed of riding farther than the forested hills to the trails above timberline. She visualized alpine meadows and rocky crevices and imagined discovering and exploring the legendary hidden valley that was said to exist there. She even dreamed of dismounting and leaving Mora behind while she climbed the jagged peaks.

Every time she turned the mare back toward home, Elena felt smaller. More timid. Less of a person. But she had no choice. She wasn’t allowed to go into the mountains. Her father forbade it because she wasn’t a boy. He said she wasn’t strong enough.

She pulled Mora to a walk. Now that she was close to home, she didn’t want her time with the mare to end quite yet. Once she got home there would be chores to do, the usual ones plus Juana’s reading lesson. And they still had to prepare for the llama’s return. Her father was in the Andes now, rounding them up and bringing them back from their summer grazing in the mountains. She wouldn’t get time alone with the horse again today.

Just think, Mora, she said to the mare and rubbed her hand over the upright clipped mane. We could be out there with Father right now if he weren’t so stubborn. She sighed and looked over the distant peaks. The jagged rocks stabbed up into the clouds like rough, iron fingers. As usual, the sight made her heart