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The Prairie Drifter
The Prairie Drifter
The Prairie Drifter
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The Prairie Drifter

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Animal fiction - 12 plus to adult .
Among the wild horses of the American Prairies there is a Prophecy, forgotten by all but a few, that one day a special one will come. On a grey stormy night a young foal named Star is born, into a world where greed and power have destroyed all that is good. Some say that his birth is a sign, connected to this Prophecy and believe his coming heralds new hope that will deliver them from the persecution they face.
But there are those who wish to keep their power... Forced to flee for his life, the young horse is hunted by his own kind. He will have to endure great hardships on a treacherous journey of discovery before returning a true Mustang of the Plains. He must eventually summon all his courage to face the destiny he was born for; to conquer the evil that drove him away.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 30, 2015
ISBN9781310427091
The Prairie Drifter
Author

Richard Wyn Jones

I was born and raised in a small seaside town of Cardigan on the west coast of Wales.After University, I spent many years working in London before finally moving from the city to the countryside, eventually settling in the idyllic Cotswold region of England, where I've had more time to focus on my writing.From a very early age I had a keen interest in crafting stories and would get lost for hours in my adventures. My working career in predominantly senior marketing and creative positions enabled me to continue this childhood passion and fuelled my dream to eventually attempt to write a full blown novel.As a young boy, I found books by authors such as Richard Adams fascinating, where they used animal subject matter to deliver human stories and this genre very much inspired me in the direction I would take for my first novel, A Squirrel's Tale and subsequently with my second novel, The Prairie Drifter.My biggest hope is that people really enjoy the characters and the journey they take as much as I enjoyed creating them.

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    Book preview

    The Prairie Drifter - Richard Wyn Jones

    The Prairie Drifter

    Copyright 2015 Richard Wyn Jones

    Published by Richard Wyn Jones at Smashwords

    Smashwords Edition License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Table of Contents

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    About the Author

    Other books by this Author

    Connect with Richard Wyn Jones

    Chapter 1

    A lone Mustang picked his way slowly along a rocky outcrop that overlooked the Great Plains of northern Wyoming, his home since birth. Gentle rolling lands and vast flat Prairies interrupted by hills and wide river valleys, that stretched out as far as the eye could see.

    The horse grazed and pulled at the rough tufts of grass that sprouted through the aged and weathered cracks, set against the backdrop of the distant mountains that had stood defiant and proud since the beginning of time, blanketed now with cottonwood, fir, spruce and pine trees along its grey craggy slopes.

    His chestnut coat and mane glinted russet and gold in the dying sunlight, the air still hot and dry, but beginning to cool at the end of day. He raised his head to the far off hills, which were beginning to soften and turn blue with the hazy atmosphere, a look of strength in his wise face. Fully sixteen hands in height, a proud calm authority marked him out as a horse of power and distinction.

    Suddenly, the stallion flinched and swung his head towards the rocky slope behind him, his ears pressed forward, then back and forth, as he listened for a sound. His muscles tensed and his nostrils began to flare, sending out wreaths of vapour that hung in the air. His huge brown eyes pierced the thickening twilight, scanning restlessly along the rocky ledges. But the scent he had caught on the breeze was lost and the stallion’s head returned to his grassy clump, nosing through the stones and rocks rooting out any stems he could.

    As he went, his legs carried him gently back and forth over the uneven surface. Now and then, a hoof would slip into a crevice hidden below the deepening covering of vegetation, but the Mustang never once lost his footing. His great body would compensate instinctively, like some huge graceful cat, so that he, seemed to be part of the landscape around him, inseparable from the contours, which made up his home.

    All around, the silence was deepening with the evening. The stillness was occasionally broken by the cry of a hawk or the lonely howl of a distant coyote. But sounds like these did not frighten such an experienced animal. The stallion’s body might brace or deflect the sudden violence of the noise, but he went on feeding. A young colt or filly might have been unnerved, but not a horse that had spent so many years on these Prairies, not a stallion whose courage had taken him to the head of his small Band of Prairie horses. As the Alpha Male, it was his duty to protect them from the many dangers that lurked in the wilderness. Wildcat, mountain lion, wolves and coyote were always on the lookout for an unsuspecting foal straying too far from the main herd.

    Abrazo had moved back to the rocky outcrop where he had a good vantage point, when he suddenly threw up his head. Now his eyes shone with recognition of the scent he had just caught again. This time Abrazo scraped at the ground with his hoof. He looked sternly in the direction of a cluster of large boulders.

    He snorted furiously. So, now we spy on each other?

    But no response came. From far away the cry of an eagle haunted the breeze but nothing else stirred.

    Come, I am no foal to be stalked like some prairie dog, continued Abrazo. Show yourself, I sensed your presence some time ago.

    At this, a wisp of dust stirred from behind the rocks and the head of young bay stallion appeared, moving slowly out into the open. His coat was a bright auburn colour with a black mane, tail and dashes of black on the lower portion of his legs. Abrazo’s eyes softened as he recognised the youngster from one of the neighbouring Bands.

    Well Breyer, son of Gabilan, he said coldly, I never expected you to be creeping around like some new born ‘whinny’. Your father certainly didn’t raise you like that.

    I am no ‘whinny’, replied the newcomer slowly. I’ll challenge anyone who thinks so, he squealed shaking his head.

    Spoken just as your father would have, Breyer. Abrazo smiled. Then perhaps you’ll tell me why you’ve been tracking me since before I moved across the rocky bluff?

    Breyer’s eyes flickered but still held Abrazo’s gaze.

    I bring a message from Zell.

    Abrazo nodded calmly.

    So he has you spying for him now? he said sadly. Don’t those two have enough spies already?

    I was observing you, not spying. Breyer spies for no one. Not even the Leader of the Prairie Bands.

    Leader of the Prairie Bands, snorted Abrazo contemptuously. What is this obsession he has? Is Zell wanting to rule all the Prairie Bands now, or I suspect that there is another that drives his thoughts, eh?

    You and my father never liked Zell, but after father’s accident…

    It was no accident, Abrazo said abruptly.

    So you kept telling me but you had no evidence to prove otherwise did you? responded Breyer.

    Why was he up there with the Zellats in the first place? queried Abrazo, he was the most sure footed horse that I knew.

    Breyer didn’t answer and Abrazo could see that in the absence of his father, Zell’s influence on the young stallion was growing.

    Very well then, said Abrazo, deliver your message.

    Zell has summoned all the Prairie Bands to attend, said Breyer.

    Summon meetings. Can that light-foot think of nothing else? Well then, you may inform Zell that I am busy.

    But you can’t...

    Enough! snorted Abrazo, Zell knows that one of my mares is near her time, I must see to her.

    Breyer moved back and forth nervously. Abrazo was well known for his shows of disrespect towards Zell, along with Breyer’s father and many admired them for it, but such open disregard could have serious repercussions, something Abrazo suspected in Gabilan’s case.

    Please Abrazo, he continued more courteously, when may I say you will come?

    Abrazo looked down across the vast grasslands. The light was fading quickly now and in the creeping haze, clouds of gnats were billowing into the air. Swallows and prairie grouse darted and fluttered from their grassy cover trying to take advantage of this momentary feast, cautious too that they themselves weren’t to fall prey to bigger predatory birds. A deep stillness was settling in over the landscape and as the Mustang looked up, he saw an evening star specking through the darkening blue. It warmed his soul.

    This star was always the first in the sky; the Great Spirit Star Arion was the brightest and held a special place with all the wild horses of the Plains. He was their protector and the other stars were the spirits of previous generations who now looked down on the lands they once roamed freely over.

    The time of the Wild Berry Moon was near he thought, a time when challenges are made and new mates and bonds are formed, a time of change, hopefully for the good. There was a need for goodness once more. Power, fear and greed had taken hold; the old ways were slowly being forgotten.

    Abrazo turned to the young stallion.

    We have lost our way and somehow, someone must have the strength to reclaim the true path in the name of the Great Spirit.

    Abrazo’s gaze betrayed the sadness that he felt for his kind. Do you believe in the Prophecy, Breyer?

    My father kept telling me the stories, but that’s all they were, stories. Zell doesn’t like to speak of them, replied the stallion.

    Never forget who you are, son of Gabilan. I was proud to call your father my friend, replied Abrazo.

    A moments silence was held between the two.

    When shall I tell Zell you can come, Abrazo?

    When I can, Breyer, snorted Abrazo in reply and with the toss of his head he turned and galloped along the edge of the bluff, but before he had gone too far the proud Mustang stopped and looked back.

    And Breyer, he called, his voice strong once more, echoing across the Prairie. If you must, you can give Zell my apologies. May the Spirit of our forefathers be with you.

    With that Abrazo was gone.

    The young bay stood motionless. He was shaking, but was deeply relieved that Abrazo had tempered his reply to Zell.

    Zell had grown increasingly unpredictable. As the sun finally vanished beyond the horizon Breyer nodded his head with a new resolution.

    And may Arion be with you too, Abrazo, and he disappeared into the gloom of the valley below.

    Chapter 2

    The evening stars were all in view, bright and glistening in a cloudless sky by the time Abrazo reached the western edge of his home valley. He paused on the brow of the hill and looked down at his small Band, mostly mares with their young foals suckling greedily or crowding close for protection along with a few young colts and stallions grazing nearby. As Abrazo looked on, he felt the powerful protective instinct that was his blood right rise in his stomach and was relieved to see two males approach to greet him, their necks extended and heads bowed in deference.

    Both were just in their fourth year, juveniles learning the importance of their protective duties and eager to please the dominant male and their father. They touched noses and exchange scents by blowing short blasts of air into each other’s nostrils. An affectionate display of mutual grooming and nibbling at Abrazo’s neck and back demonstrated how pleased they were to have him home.

    Abrazo acknowledged the attention with a smile. How is everything? he enquired.

    The evening goes well. Bisou nosed a coyote beyond the stream but the scent has gone now. We have warned everyone to be careful.

    Good, Orlando, well done, Abrazo nodded, but see you keep a keen eye on your brothers and sisters.

    This was a difficult time for the mares with their newborn foals, they were particularly vulnerable to predators. Easily frightened, it was important to avoid a stampede, which could be equally dangerous especially for the younger ones.

    Mustangs are normally flight animals but with so many foals and sucklings to take care of, the small Bands tended to congregate in larger numbers, usually in protected valleys, relying on the stallions to frighten off any threat of predators and to fight if necessary.

    So, Orlando, what have you heard of the meeting?

    Meeting? frowned Orlando with surprise. No one has been here.

    I thought not. Abrazo nodded gravely.

    Is there anything wrong? asked Orlando.

    Perhaps. Zell sent a message that he had summoned the Bands together.

    But surely they would have made a formal approach as is customary, wouldn’t they? queried Orlando. Shall I go to them, Father?

    No, Orlando. Stay here and keep watch over our herd. The youngsters are more important. I will go and investigate and come back shortly.

    Abrazo turned and galloped away across the Valley climbing slightly to a nearby rocky outcrop where he could, from a good vantage point, observe Zell and his Band at a distance without detection.

    A full moon was climbing the sky and in its strong blue light Abrazo made out Zell’s massive form moving slowly up and down the line of assembled stallions. He snorted in disgust as he spotted the skulking figure of Shade, Zell’s second in command.

    Hatred, fear and cruelty, said Abrazo to himself sadly. That’s all they are breeding into his herd.

    Zell now had by far the biggest Band in the Valley with many stallions under his command. Abrazo had suspected for a while that Zell’s ambitions had grown with his power. His power base now stretched far beyond even his large herd; hence the invented title Leader of the Prairie Bands. Abrazo saw that he was attempting to bring all the Prairie Bands under his control. More and more stories were filtering back to him of the Zellats, his private army led by Shade, slowly tightening their grip.

    Zell alone was no match for Abrazo. He was old now and virtually lame and although he could still hold his own against many a young stallion, confrontation with Abrazo would only have had one outcome. So Zell, with the cunning support of Shade, had slowly forged alliances and grown his numbers to the point where few wished now to challenge his strength. Others did his dirty work and his fanatical Zellats, trained by the evil Shade, had strengthened their grip on the Prairie Bands. Only a few now stayed defiant and Abrazo feared that soon Zell would make his move to control all.

    Normally during the mating season many leadership challenges

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