//------------------------------// // Breaking Out // Story: Spring Comes to Snow Hill // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// It was almost like Hearth's Warming Day—Winter Berry and Maple Leaf woke before the sunrise, and even before their parents. Winter pretended to be asleep for a little while, but finally she could ignore her brother no longer, so she pushed down the covers and sat up in bed. “How late were you out?” “Dunno.” Maple shrugged. “Dad had almost everything set out already, but I got to grease the runners on the sledge.” “That sounds like fun.” It wasn’t—that task had been hers last year, and she’d discovered how every little bit of dirt in the barn was attracted to the grease, not to mention how difficult it was to get off her hooves. “And then we loaded up the sledge, so it’s all ready to go. I wanted to pull it out by the door, but your harness is still too big for me, so I had to push from behind while Mom and Dad pulled on the chains. And then Mom made me scrub all the grease outta my coat before she’d let me come in the house.” Maple yawned. “I hope Mom gets up soon. I’m hungry.” “Why don’t we get some eggs and make breakfast ourselves? Let them rest some.” “Yeah!” The two of them sneaked out of their room like thieves and got dressed in their snow clothes in the little alcove by the back door. Winter Berry quietly lifted the latch, and they opened the door only far enough to squeeze out. Maple bounded through the moonlit snow like a dolphin playing in the waves, while Winter followed along at a more sedate pace. Maple skipped up the stile and opened the short fencetop gate, then trotted down the other side into their chicken run, while Winter grabbed the wicker basket that hung beside the fence and brought it along in her mouth. Both of them were experts at not disturbing the chickens while they took the eggs, and it only took a few minutes to fill the basket. On the way back, Winter set it down long enough for Maple Leaf to stack a few logs on her back, and then the siblings returned to the house. She didn't have to even ask him to fetch a bucket of water as she built the fire back up—he went back out to the well on his own and came back in with it. It wasn't all the way full, but it was plenty for a meal. They mixed up a batch of pancake batter together, then she let him stand on a milk crate and do the cooking while she supervised. “Hey Winter?” “Yeah?” “How come Mom never lets Dad cook?” “‘Cause he burns everything he cooks except for sap.” Winter stuck her tongue out. “Mom says that he could burn water, even.” She reached up into the cupboard to get out their tin of coffee. “Hmm, not much left. I’ll have to roast more beans tonight.” • • • After the family had finished eating, Winter bundled the extra pancakes in waxed paper for lunch, while her mother gathered some parched corn and the rest of the coffee beans, and loaded them into her saddlebags. When they got to the barn, her father helped Maple into snowshoes while her mother helped Winter put on her harness and hitched her to the sled. It was already loaded with buckets, lids, spiles, and the toolbox that held the auger and mallet. Once all four of them were ready, the family left the barn and set out for the forest. Red Maple took the lead, while Sugar Bush followed slightly off to the side, widening the path he’d made through the drifts. It was hard work, and not helped by the fact that it was uphill to their grove of maple trees. Winter tried to not think about how far they had to go, and just concentrated on her hooves and the sled tugging and bumping against her harness. Maple stayed off to the side, on top of the thick, heavy snow. She'd been concentrating so hard on the ground in front of her that she was surprised when her mother stopped, until she looked up and realized that they were on the border of their maple grove. The grove’s edge was marked by a tall, scarred maple the family called Old Grandad. Nopony knew how old it was; its crown was thinning, and yet every year it still produced bucket upon bucket of sweet sap. Red continued on ahead, breaking a path through the snow to the trees, while Sugar unfastened the leads from Winter’s harness and set her free. The two of them went to the sled and opened up the toolbox, then they set to work on the trees. At first, the auger felt strange in Winter’s hooves, but as the day wore on the motions became familiar again. Sugar would put her hooves up against the tree, feeling for the sap inside. When she found the right spot, she'd tap it gently, and Winter would move in with the auger, being careful not to knock the bark loose—that would hurt the tree. Once she'd drilled in to the paint mark on the bit, she'd pull it back out and blow the chips out of the hole, and then Maple Leaf would step in, tapping a cast iron spile home with the wooden mallet. Then they would hang a bucket from it, put the cover atop, and move on to the next tree. By the time the sun was overhead, the three of them had gotten dozens of holes bored, and Red had finished tromping paths to the sap-producing trees. While Sugar cleared away a big enough patch of snow to start a fire for lunch, Red went back to the barn to get the roller, so he’d be ready to start packing down the snow on the trail as soon as they finished eating. They ate a quick lunch, saving the hot coffee for last, and then went back to work. Sugar hitched Winter back to the sled, and she pulled it deeper into the woods, watching carefully to make sure that she didn't snag it on any saplings or deadfall. By the end of the day, all four of them were exhausted. Maple Leaf was swaying on his hooves, and when it was finally time to go home, he set a hoof on the sled and looked at his sister with puppy-dog eyes. “Fine. But just this once.” For the trip home, her father again took the lead, walking off to the side to further widen the path. Despite the cold, all four of them were soaked with sweat, and when they got back to the barn Winter briefly considered the advantages of going to bed with her harness still on. Red carried her brother into the house—he'd fallen asleep on the way back home, and only stirred briefly as Sugar pushed him off and into bed. Normally, she'd have woken him up and demanded that he take a bath, but not tonight. The whole family was too exhausted.