Chev, the horse, had better sense than to cross the pond ice that winter evening. Only his loyalty to obey the command of his master, the Hermit, who lacked the ‘horse sense’ to know better, made Chev step out onto the frozen water, to his doom.
I started writing the story of Chev and the Hermit at the age of twelve, when my older sister Effie took me on an adventure, with a camera pack, pencil, paper and fishing poles. She said I was to pretend to be a lady news reporter. I was game for that. We went to the pond where the Hermit was known to live in a secluded, ramshackle shack with a make-shift, lean-to stable for his horse Chev. And there we found it, hidden among the trees in a meadow near our community.
The Hermit’s shack was accessible only by a cart path through the meadow in mild months and over the pond ice in winter, when the cart path occasionally closed in with snow drifts. He kept chickens, goats and cats. We followed the cart path and when the cats saw us at the side of the pond with our fishing poles, they came to the water’s edge to get the fish we caught. It was as though they knew we had a treat for them. We couldn’t get the fish off the hooks fast enough as the cats circled at our feet. After fishing, as we approached the Hermit’s shack, I wasn’t sure what a hermit even was, but I wanted to find out.
As I knocked on the wooden slats of the door, the Hermit appeared, looking old with his long, white beard. When I said I was a news reporter, he welcomed us with open arms and a friendly wink. He said for me to ask him any questions and he would be happy to answer. He described how he cleared the land with a pick-axe, shovel and the help of his beloved horse Chev, his faithful friend and companion. Chev was a magnificent brown plough-horse, short in stature, powerful in frame, with a flowing mane that brushed against my face as his muzzle and big teeth munched on the hay I offered him. The Hermit was proud to be living there all year round and only came out to town for supplies once a month. I pretended to write his story, my sister and I took some pictures and I loved every minute.
