The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1945-12-21

He turned toward Ken again,
poked out his head and gave the boy
an affectionate shove. Ken slipped
his arm around the stations nose.
"But you've got to 60, Thunderhead
those are your mares ]
think you do know it's good-by :"
This farewell had attracted the
attention of the mares. There came
trotting out from the band the black
mare with the white colt, her ears
pricked inquiringly at Thunderhead.
She neighed. He answered. He left
Ken and went to meet her, lowering
his head, curving and wagging it
from side to side. His tail lifted,
fiared wide, and streamed behind
him. And now all the mares were
staring. They recognized him and
rushed to meet him. They milled
around him, kicking and nipping
each other in the excited jealousy of
having him back. Finally they set
tied down to the real business of life,
which was grazing.
Ken watched it all with a smile on
his face. At last he picked up the
equipment he had dropped on the
ground and went back through the
keyhole to finish the business. He
had spent hours with drill and sledge
hammer working on the rock around
and underneath that monster boul-
der which formed the roof Of the
keyhole. He had studied where each
stick Of dynamite should 60. He
did not intend that there should be
a single one of those small slips or
miscalculations which brought so
many of his good intentions to
nought. The dynamite was tamped
into the holes, the fuses attached.
Now he lit the fuses, turned and
ran. He didn't stop running until
he reached the place where he had
picketed Flicka. He slipped his arm
up underneath her head and held it
against him so she would not be
startled, and, standing so, waited
for the explosion.
It came. The pile Of boulders
around and above the keyhole rose
with a dull boom. The earth under
Ken's feet seemed to heave. There
was a frightened chattering Of birds,
and small animals scurried out Of
the rocks. A cloud of dust fioated
up from the passage. And as earth
and rocks settled back again, the
valley was filed with detonations
caroming back from the hills. Last
Of all came a deep rumble from the
Thunderer.
After some minutes Ken entered
the passage to see exactly what had
happened to the keyhole. It no long
er existed. Just as he had planned,
the support for the boulder had been
blasted away, and with it's fall, all
the other boulders had found new
position. There were some crannies
a cat or a small dog could have
crawled through, but for Thunder
head the passage was closed for all
time.
Ken retraced his steps, ran along
the rampant until he came to the
place Thunderhead had made the
trail to the summit, and climbed up.
There was excitement amongst
the mares over the blasting. Thun-
derhead was nowhere to be seen.
Ken lay down, hanging his head over
the edge, certain that the horse was
below there, paving at those stones,
investigating every Granny, discov-
ering that there would be no more
going in and out Of the valley. At
least, thought Ken, not from this
end. You might be able to find a
way out the other end, old fellow,
through those valleys and mountain
passes and glaciers, but it would be
a hundred miles around for you to
get home, and all of it strange going
mol think you'll stay in
And then it was as if his fathers
fiery, commanding eyes were sud-
denly looking into his, and he spoke
to them, GIVE done it, dad. He won't