What strikes me, soon into this chapter, is that it is told mostly from Almanzo’s perspective. I always have liked that. As a fellow horseperson, I could relate to how he felt when he thought he may have lost Lady for good.
We have a break between blizzards. A sunny day with new hope as Pa hurries into the house telling the family that a herd of antelope has been sighted west of town. The men were gathering, excited, to plan their strategy. When Laura looks out of the window, she sees several men on horseback and notices that Almanzo and Mr. Foster are riding the beautiful Morgan horses.
The Ingalls girls begin planning a meal of roast venison with gravy. Ma, ever the realist, warns, “We must not count chickens before they are hatched,” while at the same time admitting that she would be glad to have meat to go with the brown bread.
The men head out, following Pa’s suggestion to go slow until they’re within gunshot. He tells them that if they work it right they should be able to get one apiece. Mr. Foster is anxious and overly excited. He doesn’t seem to know how to ride a horse and Almanzo is already regretting letting him ride Lady.
They should have the herd surrounded in a few minutes and as Almanzo turns to speak to Mr. Foster, he hears a shot. As he reins Prince in, he sees Lady running away. Mr. Foster has jumped off of Lady, let go of her and fired at the antelope when they were too far away to get a good shot. The antelope run away and Lady overtakes them and goes with them. Almanzo hollers not to shoot, he doesn’t want anyone to hit Lady.
In a few minutes, the prairie swallows the antelope herd and Lady with them. They are gone. There’s not much to be said now. The antelope are likely not to be seen again. Almanzo says that he won’t risk his life, looking for her, but maybe he’ll just circle around to see if catches sight of her, or maybe she’ll find her way back. The other men head back to town, empty-handed.
Almanzo rides on alone, over each prairie swell with nothing in sight except for the blowing snow. He feels sick at heart losing her, but not intending to jeopardize his life for a horse. He chastises himself for being such a fool to lend her to a stranger and keeps riding, looking for Lady. There’s always another slope and the sky remains clear so he goes on. He rides until he looks back and does not see town, nothing but the white land and the blowing snow, and the wind and the cold. He feels very alone.
He decides to go over one more slope and then turn back if he doesn’t see anything. From the top of that slope he sees the low edge of a cloud in the northwestern sky. And he sees Lady, very far away, but she is looking eastward, away from them. His whistle that has called her since she was a young horse is carried away on the wind, as is Prince’s call to her. Then she turns, sees them and starts galloping toward them. Almanzo waits until she gets a little nearer and then he turns and rides toward town.
He reaches the stable behind the feed store and is taking care of Prince when Lady rattles at the door and he lets her in. I love his conversation with her, reprimanding her while taking blame by letting someone else ride her. He’s a very dedicated horseman and takes proper care of his horses before he leaves them.
Meanwhile, Pa has arrived back home without saying anything. There is no need. They know. There will be no meat. After a few minutes he tells the story of what happened. They console themselves thinking that the antelope would have been poor eating this time of year anyway. But it would have been something. Things can only get worse!
Pa decides to head over to the feed store to see if Almanzo has returned while Ma is getting dinner ready. Royal is making pancakes and bacon and Pa tells him how lucky he is to have brought in supplies. While they are talking, they see Lady streak past the window. A few minutes later Almanzo comes in and both he and Royal urge Pa to eat with them. He does.
As I read this, I always had mixed feelings. Does Pa feel bad for his family as he fills himself up? But then, as I have read, Pa often ate smaller portions so that the family would have enough to eat, while still doing chores and hauling hay. Maybe he deserved this one fine meal. But still he must have felt guilty as he headed home and ate brown bread and potatoes with his family.