“A long time passed before Beth saw Dad returning and went to meet him. He was carrying the tiny foal, and gently lowered it down to Beth.”
Beth woke early, and lay watching as the sunlight crept across a wall of her bedroom, gradually filling her room with warmth. Outside, the birds were singing merrily; it promised to be a beautiful day.
Beth could hear Mother preparing breakfast, so she dressed and went out to the kitchen to set the table. After breakfast she helped with the dishes and then went off to feed the hens and ducks.
Her Dad was out at the shed, saddling his horse, Warrigul, and asked Beth if she would like to go with him. “I’m going out to the back paddock to look at Lady. She is not due to foal for some time yet, but I want to see that she is still alright”.
“Oh yes, I’ll just tell Mother where I’m going”, said Beth, running inside. In a few minutes she was racing down the paddock to catch the old pony she rode. It was her dearest wish to own a pony of her very own, but in the meantime, Dick was a lot better than nothing. Beth loved riding, and, under her Dad’s instruction, was already a good rider. They were soon trotting over the back area of the farm, over the paddocks, towards the back paddocks, where Dad’s lovely bay mare, Lady, was grazing. Dad was very proud of Lady and was hoping for a good foal from her in a few more weeks time.
When they reached the gate to her paddock, there was no sign of Lady, so Beth went one way and Dad the other around the paddock to look for her. Beth hadn’t gone far, when a loud whistle from Dad called her back in his direction. She cantered up, to find him, down in a gully, bending over Lady.
Poor Lady; she was lying stretched out and moaning with pain. Her eyes were closed and she didn’t move. Her coat was splashed with blood and there were deep cuts on her neck and along her ribs. Lying beside her was a tiny foal, and at first Beth thought it was dead, but then it moved slightly.
Dad was very upset and angry, and Beth began to cry. “Whatever has happened to her, Dad?”, she asked.
“She has been chased by some dogs, Beth, and in her fear she fell down here. I’m afraid she is very badly hurt. She has two broken legs and there is nothing I can do for her. I’m going home to get the gun and put her out of her pain”.
Lifting the weeping Beth onto Dick, they rode swiftly home.
A long time passed before Beth saw Dad returning and went to meet him. He was carrying the tiny foal, and gently lowered it down to Beth.
“She is very weak Beth, and I don’t know whether we can revive her or not. I don’t think she has had that very important first drink from Lady, and of course, she is premature. Not a very good start for the poor little thing.”
“I’m terribly sorry about Lady, Dad, but we’ll try to rear her baby. I’ll call her Star as she has a wee white mark on her forehead,” said Beth, as they carried the foal over to one of the sheds.
Dad cleaned out a corner of the shed and spread some hay, ready for Star to be tucked into.
Beth warmed some milk and poured it into the pet lamb’s bottle and stirred in some sugar, then fitted the teat on. Dad held Star while Beth tried to persuade her to drink the warm milk. After that there was nothing more they could do, so Star was tucked up warmly in the hay and covered with an old rug and left to sleep.
Every two or three hours Star was coaxed to have a little drink of warm milk but there was very little strength in the frail body. Gently, and very little at a time so as not to tire her too much, Beth brushed Star’s coat clean of all the mud. Beth spent hours out in the shed, just stroking the soft nose and trying to coax some life into the tiny animal.
The days passed and Beth still hoped that Star would recover and tried to picture them both playing out in the paddocks in the sunshine, but in her heart, she knew that there wasn’t much chance to start getting better.
The weather turned very cold and Beth made a warm cover for Star and felt a little bit happier when Star struggled to take a few shaky steps. After trying to walk Star would lie panting and shaking from the effort, and it was obvious that she was still a very sick little foal.
Then one morning, a little over a week after Star was brought home, Beth went out to the shed with her feed, to find Star lying stretched out in the hay too weak to move. Beth rushed in to Dad, who came and examined Star and told Beth that he was very sorry and he was afraid that Star was dying. Beth wept and wept and stayed sitting with Star’s head on her lap and stroking her head.
Poor little Star, what a sad, short life she had had, even though Beth had loved her so much and tried so hard to care for her. Dad took Star away and buried her under one of the trees down the paddock, and Beth painted her name and the date on a flat stick and put it in the ground on her grave.
Later, Dad explained to Beth that when any baby is born it is very important for it to have its first drink from its Mother. That first thick rich milk is very important for a baby to be able to grow strong and healthy. When Lady was chased and fell, as she was injured her to have her foal too soon, and as she was injured and the foal weak, it didn’t get any of that important milk. It is even more important when a baby is premature, as Star was, to have it.
Beth still felt very sad but she could see that poor little Star had had too many things against her, and that all Beth’s love and care couldn’t make up for them.