Chapter 1
Mingo felt a tug on his line and flipped the trout onto the bank beside his booted feet. He quickly snatched the fish before it could thrash loose from the hook and slip back into the river. It was about the same size as the other dozen or so that he had already caught that afternoon. He slipped the slender rope through the gills and threw the catch back into the river to keep cool. Another two or three and he would quit for the day and try to entice Becky Boone to fry them. She seldom refused anything that he asked. There was a very warm friendship between the two, built from years of trust and affection.
He rebaited the hook with an inch-long grasshopper and tossed the line back into the river. The late afternoon sunlight sparkled on the water and the gentle current had a hypnotic effect on his nervous system. He leaned comfortably against a large willow and began to doze. The water lapped beneath the bank and the leaves rustled a soft lullaby. The sun slid in its orbit, the light warmly lying across his lower legs and leather-clad feet.
Years on the frontier had honed his senses. Even though dozing he was aware of the sound of slow footfalls approaching from behind. His mind automatically classified the sound as belonging to either two men or a large animal. Fully wakened instantly, he soundlessly grasped his hatchet in his right hand as the measured sound continued. Whatever or whoever it was, they were now only a few feet away on the other side of the tree. Two more steps, and Mingo was certain that the footsteps belonged to a large animal. He slightly relaxed and curiosity replaced caution. As he turned his head over his right shoulder a warm, soft muzzle brushed the side of his face.
Startled, Mingo jerked his head away and threw his hand up in a gesture of protection. Facile lips mouthed his hand and grassy breath blew past his face. He looked up into the dark eyes of a large horse. The two front hooves were pressed beside his leg as though the animal was seeking human contact. Mingo slowly rose and stroked the horse's beautifully marked face. He stepped beside the animal and ran his hand along the arched neck beneath the long light mane. The horse stood completely still, his eyes partially closed with pleasure at the Cherokee's touch. A low nicker escaped from deep in the horse's throat. As the man continued to run his hands along the animal's body the horse leaned into the caressing touch.
Mingo stepped back and looked the animal over with experienced eyes. The horse was tall, well-muscled and well configured. He was a dark dappled grey with a silvery mane and tail. There was a comet-shaped white mark in the center of his forehead and both ears were dark grey at the tips. The skin around the eyes was also dark grey. The velvety muzzle was likewise the same. The expressive eyes were intelligent and communicated trust. When Mingo bent to raise a hoof the horse responded by lifting the hoof without any pressure on the man's part. Surprised, Mingo checked the hoof for soundness and was gratified to note the healthy frog and hard outer covering. When the man moved in front of the animal to check the teeth, the horse opened his mouth with only a light touch on the jaw. The horse was young, not much more than a juvenile. Mingo carefully moved around the horse's body but could see no brand or mark of identification anywhere on the magnificent body.
Deciding to take the horse with him to the Boone's cabin, Mingo pulled in his fishing line and gathered his catch. The horse watched every move with pricked ears and alert eyes. When the man pulled his whip from around his knife to use as a lead rope, the horse backed away. Obviously he understood what a whip could do. His trusting eyes had taken on an expression of wariness. Mingo replaced the whip and the horse immediately stepped forward. Slowly the animal placed his head on Mingo's shoulder, the expressive eyes transmitting a heightened level of trust. Mingo again caressed the horse's smooth neck, then turned to begin the short journey to the Boone's cabin. Right behind him, his soft nose brushing the man's neck at every step, strode the dappled grey Spanish horse.
Israel Boone saw Mingo and the horse approaching his family's cabin at dusk. Waving his hand, the little white-haired boy rushed to meet them. Mingo raised both hands in a gesture of restraint, and Israel slowed his headlong gallop. Excitedly the boy questioned the tall man.
"Where'd you find him? Is he yours? Can I ride him? Did you buy him?" Israel's high-pitched voice caused the horse to swivel his ears. Mingo petted the horse's neck to calm him.
"He found me, Israel. I don't know who he belongs to. I also don't know if he is broken to ride. You can help me find the answers to all these questions after supper. Do you think I might persuade your mother to cook these fish for us?" Mingo stretched out his hand and gave the string of fish to Israel.
"Sure can! Ma'll be glad to have these. We've been havin' so much venison lately that I'm beginnin' to grow antlers!" Israel giggled as Mingo reached under his three-cornered hat to massage his forehead.
"I don't feel any. I think that I brought you a change of diet just in time!" Mingo grinned at the shared joke. Daniel Boone stepped out of the cabin at the sound of their voices. His brown eyebrows raised in surprise as he surveyed his friend's traveling companion. Israel passed by his father and took the fish into the cabin. Daniel gave the boy an affectionate pat as he passed.
"Where'd you find him?" Daniel asked, gesturing at the horse standing behind Mingo's right shoulder.
"Actually, as I was just explaining to Israel, he found me. He's young, but very well trained. By the look of him I'd say that he is a Spanish Andalusian. Or maybe a young Lipizzaner."
"A which?"
"Breeds fashioned for war by the rulers of Europe in medieval times. Very special animals. Very select breeding. Owed by only the best families, closely guarded and protected. "
"Then what would he be doin' in frontier Kentucky?"
"My question exactly. But I don't think that he will tell us. He seems quite tight-lipped." Mingo's own lips curled and his entire face glowed with his own special expression of humor.
"Well, let's tie him inside the stable with the cow. Say, you don't have a rope on him. How'd you get him to come with you?"
"I didn't. He just followed me. He seems to like me."
"Well, you always did have a fondness for the horses. And they seemed to prefer you. Anytime we took a trip that involved a horse, you always took responsibility for it."
"Daniel, I think that was due more to the fact that you strode out with those long legs of yours and LEFT me with the horse!" The two friends chuckled together as they walked to the log stable, the grey horse continuing to walk contentedly behind Mingo's right shoulder.