Epilogue II
The hours on the train back to Ned's home town were not as bad as before. Grace had to ride in the stock cart again since the rules required that all animals be placed in stock carts. She didn't like being alone in a dark area, but she entered inside anyway. This time there was nothing more to fear now that she was out of danger. Of course, it was Sampson that decided to stay with her in the stock cart so that she would feel less lonely and would have someone to talk to. The light from the afternoon sun shone through the open windows beautifully. It wasn't as dark last time she was here. This felt more like a sign of freedom. Honey was there as well. She wanted to travel with the others to town and stay with Grace until her wounds healed. Then after that, it would be time for her to take the next train back home to the forest.
Instead of being scared and confused, Grace felt a little more cheerful when she and Sampson listened as Honey told them tall tales of cowboys and Indians from long ago that settled the old west. With the few tales she knew, they had provided great fun and education for the two listeners to learn about imminent dangers such as tornadoes, floods, stampedes, Indian battles, cattle rustlers, town riots, and gun fights. When Sampson had asked how she knew of all this, she could only say that stories of old and new are passed over from generation to generation. However she knew about it, he practically enjoyed listening to them anyway, especially Grace. Stories were always great entertainment.
"So then Eagle Eye fires his arrow straight at the herd o' runnin' buffalo like this," Honey demonstrated how this technique was done by making a bow and arrow signal with her wings. She had been telling a story about how a Comanche warrior came to be known.
"Then what happened?" Sampson asked.
"Then in a matter of seconds, the buffalo went down," Honey continued. "Then he was honored by his people for how great a hunter he had become."
"Why'd he do that?" Grace asked in curiosity.
"What?" Honey perked her head up at that question.
"Why'd he aim that thing at an animal that was runnin' for his life?" Grace didn't mean to sound disrespectful or negative, but somehow the hunting part made her feel a bit disturbed.
"Why sugar," Honey laughed lightheartedly. "That's how all tribes made their livin' since the earlier days. Huntin' for food was part o' their cultural way of life. But unlike the hunters you see today that do it for sport; it was a matter o' survival and tradition. Besides I heard that they often respected the animals they hunted before givin' themselves to the tribe." For some reason, Honey felt like she should have told a different story that's not about hunting.
"What else did they hunt?"
"Well let me think," Honey muttered gathering what she remembered in her memory banks. "Salmon, elk, antelope, pronghorns, buffalo as I've just mentioned, but meat wasn't their only diet you know. Sometimes they'd eat nuts and berries that grew in the mountains, or wild plants that grew in the desert."
"Are they friendly folks?"
"Well sugar, I still don't know much about Indian tribes, but I do know that they had respected this land long before the men with pale faces changed all that which I won't explain how. The names of tribes throughout the west are today known as Cheyenne, Cherokee, Sioux, Shawnee, Lakota, Comanche, Apache, Creek, Algonquin, Pawnee and Seminole as far as I have heard. But I must warn yah though…" Honey's face turned to a warning glare with an urgent tone in her voice, "…although some of these tribes have lent a helpin' hand, there are those who are known to be just as dangerous and crafty as the outlaw gang we fought. I heard some o' them had attacked camps to steal animals durin' the dead of night. Sometimes they'd even capture women and children to carry them far away to wherever their village may be. They are called raiders."
Grace gulped as she imagined being in a campfire place where it was in danger of being attacked by Indian raiders that might be out to steal animals like her.
"But how did they attack?" Grace stuttered.
"Indian raiders sometimes carried knives, hatchets, spears, a bow and arrow, even guns," Honey answered as she demonstrated how the attack was done by crawling on the floor and pretending to shoot with an imaginary weapon. She made a shooting sound through her beak. "Then the entire camp goes cryin' out in a panic as arrows hiss through the air; enough to give the raiders the perfect timin' to capture as many herds of animals as they can."
"Did any of this ever happen in towns?" Grace asked unsteadily.
"Not that I know of," Honey admitted. "They usually occur out in the deserts and prairies where wagon trains make their spots. But I wouldn't worry bout it though. Towns are too-well protected to provide a perfect raid for them. Most folks refer to them as redskins."
It was true that Honey didn't know too much about Indian raiders likely to run through towns before. If that happened, then the Wild West was sure an untamed land nowadays. Better not to mention that to Grace at this moment. Let the young calf find out for herself when she was old enough.
"Wow that was some story!" Sampson exclaimed with a lot of excitement in his voice. "I'd sure wouldn't want to miss out on the fun by not bein' there."
"But why is that so fun?" Grace turned to her mouse companion after hearing enough about the description of a raid.
"I don't mean fun as in the violent kind o' way, I mean the chances o' trackin' down a gang o' rustlers or raiders to teach them a lesson is the real fun," Sampson replied. "Life just ain't no fun without the action or adventure. Just like the one we had in searchin' for yah. Yah know what I mean don't yah?"
Grace thought for a moment as she remembered how much she had been eager to escape from that dark dirty shack for so long and to see what lay beyond. She felt like a trapped prisoner under Lewis's command. The only chances for her to look outside were through a few holes in the walls. Even Sampson agreed that it was no life for her to feel trapped and lonely in such a place. And she did get a taste of the outside world for the good, the bad, and the ugly. Yet part of it did seem exciting to find out what an adventure was all about.
"Yes, I do," she finally answered truthfully with a small smile. "But I think I had enough adventures for now."
The three friends all laughed cheerfully together. What she said was true. While some adventures can be fun, wild, and full of new experiences, they can also be dangerous and life-threatening when one does not watch their step. Who could blame Grace?
Sometime later
During the days that followed, Grace was taken to the nearest doctor's office each morning where she needed to be treated for her cuts and bruises. There she was given a different kind of healing ointment that worked well enough for the stinging pain to fade away and for the scars to close up. She was well behaved and didn't holler when the substance was spread over where the rawhide whip had cut between her shoulders. Sadly though, some of the cuts had been so deep that they refused to heal properly which meant she might have them on her for the rest of her life. But even if that were the case, the doctor told Ned it may be possible that the hairs on her hide would prevent the scars from being seen as she grew older. And if they were seen, it would be left as the exact same color like a burn mark. The other instructions he gave were for Grace to be fed the proper nutrients from a milk bottle and enough hay at home so that she would be healthy again in no time. Ned had thanked the doctor for doing everything he could to help Grace get well. At his home, Grace was able to run and skip about in the back fenced area with Sampson and Honey singing a folk song. Wondering how she learned to sing so badly, Honey had questioned Sampson about what happened before until he admitted that he was only trying to help Grace through her bad feelings by singing a song of pure joy. He of course was a bad singer as well and his cow friend truly thought that's what singing really was. But neither of them wanted to spoil her sense of excitement or hurt her feelings by saying how awful she sounded, so they kept it to themselves and joined in on the fun. The crows that had taunted Grace before with their jeering flew by once and were driven off by an army of gophers and prairie dogs from the ground who threw dirt in their faces. Even Grace's high singing tone shattered the daylights out of them. The sly crows never returned again after that.
As for the bad men, the gang had been tried in the court room for grand theft, robbery, cattle rustling, and causing a ruckus in town by opening fire throughout a crowded street. Some of the items that were stolen had been taken to the sheriff's office in case someone else in town was to come looking for a lost necklace, ring, or bracelet. The same woman from the bank on the day of the robbery was relieved to find that her wedding ring was there and had taken it back home with her. The Yeller gang had been sentenced to spend the next twenty years at a prison located somewhere in the Lone Star state of Texas. Lewis of course had been faced with charges of failure to notify the authorities of the gangs' whereabouts and threatening the sheriff with a pistol back at his home. With the WANTED posters and the diamond bracelet as the only evidence against him, somehow he had finally confessed that he was a boozehound who drank too much, had been beating on his calf severely when she would not obey him, and kept the bandits' hideout a secret since he had once been a member who was only doing them a favor. Scar Face Sam had cursed at Lewis when he accidentally blurted out their plot to flee to the most forgotten town where only outlaws were welcome. That confession was laughed at as the courtroom believed it was nothing more than a common joke since no such place has ever been known to exist. Lewis had also received the same twenty year sentence at the prison in Texas. And however he behaved at that place would be up to the authorities there to take care of it. If the jailhouse wasn't enough for him, then there was always the mental institution in the outskirts of Alabama. Tuck on the other hand, followed his masters' as they were led away on the train to the prison house because he never wanted to be without them. The mystery of outlaw country was yet to be determined or investigated.
One day, Ned was sitting at his desk at the office looking at a few advertisements in the paper to see if there was an appropriate kind of home for Grace. Most of them were from home settlements, oil companies, structures, and book shops, horse riding contests, Wild West shows, and meat markets. Then he turned to the ads from dairy farms and cattle ranches where they raised beef cattle for market; definitely not the right place for the orphan calf to…
"Huh, now what's this?" Ned's eyes caught something interesting on the last page at the bottom left. "Lookin' to find the right environment for a homeless cow, pig, goat, hen, or sheep?" he read, "Then Little Patch of Heaven farm is the perfect place for them to be. Here is where we provide lifelong care for as many lost or abandoned farm animals to spend the remainder o' their life with nourishin' food, spacious, and acres o' green, sunny pastures to roam about. Come on over and see it why don'tcha. Ain't nothin' much out here but life at its best. What better way for them to spend the day on a tiny half-an-acre of paradise? This message is brought to you by Pearl Gesner, owner and kindly mother o' the Patch of Heaven farm where there is always room for more."
"Hmm interestin'," Ned muttered, scratching his chin. "I often heard the myth of a haven for outlaws, but a sanctuary for farm animals is one I ain't ever heard of. Then again, I haven't been plannin' on sellin' her to just anybody and I do want what's best for her. So I think I may have already found her a home." With a pair of scissors, he cut out the ad in the newspaper, folded it and placed it in his vest pocket. He never heard of or met this Pearl Gesner person mentioned in the paper, but her name sounded similar to someone who would take in a starving animal or child from the shivering cold. "Whoever this Pearl is, I'm sure she'd be willin' to wanna adopt the orphan calf. But maybe I should give her a name first." He stopped pacing around the office and crossed his arms knowing that names were important when introducing oneself. "Let me think now…hmm Goldie, Gina, Gretel, Gene, Glory, Gloria…Grace, Grace, that's her name. I like it better than all the other ones. Wait till I tell her the good news."
At Ned's home
That night, Grace was delighted to hear the good news of what Ned told her. Yet she was also surprised when he insisted that she should have a name by the time they reached this small dairy farm. He wanted to give her own name that she had always been called. But that didn't matter at the least. Her other two friends, Sampson and Honey were happy for her as well. But there was still something else for Sampson to say. With a little encouragement from the blubird, he cleared his throat and explained all.
"He's asked you to be his partner?" Grace couldn't make sense of what she heard from Sampson as he told her about the agreement he made to Dan before the rescue.
"Yes, and I accepted," Sampson admitted, "Yah see there were certain places that only I could reach when we searched for clues o' your whereabouts. I know yah don't wanna hear this but look at it this way, you're no longer livin' with that old loon, you're here safe and sound, and right now you're goin' to a new home. I'd go with yah if I could, but I'm still searchin' for my lost family."
"I left my momma back in the forest, and now you're not comin'," the calf's voice trembled with disbelief.
Sampson moved closer and put his hands on her right ankle. "Please Grace, try to understand. I'm not sayin' I don't wanna be your friend no more. Yah know I won't ever stop carin' bout yah. And Dan wanted to make up for not believin' me at first bout Lewis and the bandits' hideout. We all went through a lot o' difficult situations to find and save yah. Now the bad men are already on their way to jail to serve their long-term sentence. So there is no need for yah to worry about bein' mistreated, poked, or yelled at anymore."
"I'll miss not havin' you around," Grace confessed as her voice trembled.
"Listen, even if we're not together no more, our friendship with each other will never be parted or forgotten. We'll always be friends, no matter where we are. Besides, there might be other calves or baby farm animals like you who are in the same trouble as you were. They might be waitin' for someone to help them out. That's why I accepted Dan's offer. It's not just about findin' my family; it's about helpin' others in need. That's what the law is all about. Don't yah understand now?"
Grace wiped her eyes when she felt tears form in them. "I do," she muttered, feeling unsure of this conversation. She didn't understand herself sometimes. She should feel happy that Ned took her in and had finally found the perfect home for her. Yet her tiny companion was choosing to stay behind in this town. It was nothing against her at all; this was for the best. Her feelings remained twisted inside like a cord. What else was there for her to say? Then Honey stepped in for Sampson.
"There ain't nothin' more to be upset about sugar," she encouraged. "You're goin' to be livin' on a safe haven. We'll never forget bout you. It might be sad, but this is life. And time has a way o' changin' things once in a while, but don't let that stop yah from enjoyin' all the happiness yah might find over there."
Grace nodded, knowing that the bluebird was probably right about what she said. This was exactly the same lesson Sampson taught her about the blossom blooming in the sunshine. She didn't want Sampson to stay behind, but another feeling inside was somehow saying that she should respect his decision to stay behind and the desire to help others out there who need it as she once did.
"I have to take the next train back to the forest tomorrow," Honey maintained softly. I'd fly there if I could but only vultures can stand the smolderin' desert heat. But Sampson said he would ride with you on your way there to bid you farewell. I'll be happy to tell Orchid and Juniper bout what happened, that way they'll know more."
"I would like that," Grace insisted. "She did take care of me. I do miss her, but I won't cry anymore."
"That's the spirit now sugar," Honey clasped her wing tips together proudly. She was glad to hear Grace speak up without shedding a single tear. "That's what we all want for yah; to be strong." Then she and Sampson walked with Grace to the pile of warm hay where she would be sleeping for the remainder of the night. As she lay there, she was feeling much better about having this all talked out and especially what they said about never truly leaving her. Their love and friendship for her would never fade. With everything settled about this conversation and the new home planned for her, she was able to drift off to sleep. Sampson rested himself against her rib and Honey kissed her goodnight on the cheek.
"Sleep well sugar," she whispered lovingly. "Tomorrow is a new day for yah." Grace wished her and Sampson good night and closed her eyes, heavy with sleep to dream of a new beginning for her. The beginning of a new home with possibly new friends to meet. She did not open her eyes until the morning dawned.
Author's note: Last chapter and epilogue are on the way. It has been wonderful working on this story. Inspiration for it came from when I suffered from loneliness and feeling like an outcast during the year of 2004.