At her husband’s booming voice behind her, Keturah ducked. She turned and glared up at him, but without glancing her way, he marched past, deeper into the woods. She groaned as she rose from the ground and pursued him. Daniel would be more hassle than help, for she had to ensure she did not lose him in the woods as well. “Wait,” she called after him.
“Should we not spread out to cover more ground?” Daniel’s brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth pulled down as he looked from her out into the forest.
“No, we dinnae need to be separated. If we do findher, it will take the both of us to return her to the barn.” Though she spoke the truth, she said it only to persuade her husband to stick close. While there was no good way to move a pig, Keturah had handled the animal on her own before. Thankfully, the words must have done their trick, for Daniel waited where he stood before following her as she delved deeper into the woods.
Keturah scoured the ground for hoof prints and other signs. The area they wove through was one the animal had frequented before she was moved to the barn. In fact, they were nearing the small clearing where Keturah and her father had occasionally put out corn to entice the pig into remaining close to home. Hope bubbled within her.
But as Keturah broke through the trees, the clearing was empty save for a few rays of sunlight that pierced the canopy of trees. A grumble ripped from her chest as her hands clenched at her sides.
Daniel huffed up behind her. “Did you lose the trail?”
Keturah gritted her teeth to keep from saying something she would regret. No, she had lost nothing, quite unlike him. But then again, how could she admit she had no inkling where the animal was either?
Ignoring her husband, she marched into the clearing. There, she gave the long, loud whooping noise her father had used to call the pig. Her cheeks heated at the embarrassing sound, but it needed to be done. Much toher dismay, the only answer was the rustle of the breeze through the oak leaves and the squawk of a blue jay. Mouth set firmly, Keturah looked around. Where would the animal have gone?
Closing her eyes, she stopped to consider what the pig would eat on her own. Insects, mushrooms, worms… most of which were more abundant closer to the spring. Turning to her right, Keturah struck off once more, with Daniel on her heels. They maneuvered over roots and under tree limbs. A chipmunk darted away as she pushed a thick grapevine out of her way and held it for Daniel to move past. Instead, he reached up and held the dry brown vegetation and motioned for her to continue on.
Keturah ducked under and picked her way past some poison oak clinging to the base of the tree the vine hung from. Then she crossed over a patch of dark-green moss, a clear indication they were moving in the right direction. This was the kind of area where the gilt could find a plethora of food. If only they could find her…
Keturah skirted around a broad pine tree and stopped in her tracks. There stood the pig, so engrossed in her rooting that she paid them no heed. “Gilly,” she cried as relief flooded through her. Without thinking, she tromped toward the animal and immediately regretted the action. Her loud footsteps drew the gilt’s head from the ground, and grunting, she darted away.
“Stop her!” Keturah threw the instruction towardher husband as she pointed after the pig, even though he was no closer to the animal than she was. But a mad dash ensued as they both ran in her direction.
Daniel gained on the pig first, but when he dove toward the animal, he ended up with a face full of fern. Keturah plowed right on past him. Sputtering, he lifted himself from the ground as Keturah hiked her petticoats above her ankles so she could pursue the gilt over the uneven terrain without snagging them on everything in sight.
The pig headed east along the creek, grunts emanating from her rotund body and her head bobbing as she went. It was surprising how quickly her short little legs could carry her as she pushed past shrubs and saplings along the creek bank. Stones clattered under Keturah’s feet and toppled into the shallow water as she kicked them in her haste to catch up. A thorn bush grabbed her underskirt, and she grimaced at the sound of ripping fabric. She had no time to stop and survey the damage, though. The garment could be mended after the pig was safely back in the barn.
Finally, Keturah gained on the gilt. She reached out, but the animal darted around a large rock that protruded from the ground. In an attempt to stop short of the obstacle, Keturah stumbled and fell. She groaned as a root dug into her back.
Daniel’s concerned face appeared above her. As he started to kneel and reach out to her, she waved him away.
“I am fine! Get the pig!” Keturah worked herself into a kneeling position and swiped the curls from her face that had escaped their pins. When she followed after Gilly and Daniel, she breathed a sigh of relief. The pig now angled toward the homestead. “Keep her going in that direction,” she called after her husband. They could worry about wrangling the beast once she was near home.
Keturah thought she caught a nod as Daniel leapt over a small, downed tree the pig darted under. She followed as quickly as her cumbersome garments would allow. Sweat slipped down her temples and beaded between her breasts as she continued the chase. Again, how could such an awkward animal be so agile and quick? Keturah shook her head as she dashed through the trees.
But she and Daniel both came skidding to a halt when the pig plowed straight into a thicket of bushes so dense that they could not follow. Keturah let out a growl of frustration as Daniel ran a hand through his dark, damp hair.
His chest heaved with exertion. “We will have to go around.”
Keturah nodded, and they darted around the bush in time to see the gilt burst through the leaves on the other side. Her thick hide sported several cuts that made Keturah wince. She needed Gilly home, safe and sound. She had babies to bring into the world, and hopefully soon. Concern wound its way through hermiddle at the thought. All this running could not be good for Gilly or the piglets, could it?
Finally, they broke through the trees and into the valley where the homestead sat. As the pig neared the barn, she slowed to a trot. And then a walk. For as surprisingly fast as her short legs had carried her before, now their pace was painstakingly slow. It was as though she had figured out their plan and had no interest in returning to her stall.
Keturah slowed and kept her distance for fear of spooking her again.
Daniel walked ahead. “Come on, girl. Come get the slop I have for you.” He motioned to the animal as though she understood what he said. Gilly stopped completely and gave a snort.
Keturah groaned before she sent a withering glance toward her husband.
He paid her no heed and continued on, still calling to the animal that snorted and pretended to inspect the ground.
When the animal did not budge, Keturah moved forward and shoved on her from behind. “Come on, this a way.” Her own grunt slipped out as she pushed with all her might, her shoulder pressed against the animal’s rump, to no avail.
Suddenly, Daniel was behind her with a tree branch in hand. “Can you block the far side of the barn?”
Keturah looked him over and raised an eyebrow. “What do ye plan to do?”
He gave her a pointed look, his brown eyes sharp and his mouth turned down at the corners. “I am going to try to herd her.”
