1980 School Magazine

..FREEDOM IS A STATE OF MIND'' Winner of the Margaret Ogg Memorial Prize. It was cold up there on the moors. The bitter wind whip- ped at my coat and swirled the hummocked grasses. The dark clouds which spanned the horizon threatened to cloak the wild countryside in impregnable mist. ln the distance fluffy balls moved slowly, stopping here and there to chomp the coarse grasses and heather. A sprinkling of black pellets on the muddy ground were tell- tale signs of the wild hares which inhabited the region. Hoof prints told of wild ponies which had come and gone. This timeless land, barren, wild, unkempt, unheard of by many, unseen by most, in which insect, bird and beast alike clung to the thread of life, prepared itself for the harsh months of winter which would soon be upon it. I wandered aimldssly'through the stunted, wind-blown scrub and coarse grasses, oblivious of time as the mist swirled about the tops of distant knolls, and began to ad- vance steadily towards the natural depression in which i had paused, in order to {ill my lungs with the icy air which chilled my face and caused me to wrap my scarf more firmly about my neck. As I stumbled up the muddy bank of the next rise my foot struck something hard. My curiosity caused me to part the undergrowth, which ex- posed a slab of crudely-chiselled granite" lt was a headstone, by the appearance of which had lain long beneath a blanket of heather and gorsebush. As I brush- ed away the damp earth from the surface I read the following words - with difficulty - which had been roughly cut into its surface: ,HERE LIETH JACOB! 1895-1906. Of Shackled Body, But Spirit Freel' I mused over the inscription for a long while. The dates on the tombstone implied the owner of the grave to be no more than eleven years old. I wondered what had promp- ted such an inscription, what type of child could warrant such a passage. As I pondered I no longer felt the chill creeping through my grealcoat or the frost nipping my nose. As I gazed abstractedly before me I became aware that the mist was parting, almost imperceptibly at first, and then it drained away exposing the rugged countryside. The sun shone as a dull orange disc on this Spring day. The gorsebushes were laden with their delicate yellow clusters of flowers. The f luffy white bodies were closer, munching greedily at the now plentiful grass and gorsebush. The wind, though as strong, was less cruel and cold. I became aware of footfalls, clumsy and irregular. I look- ed about the horizon and caught sight of a small figure poised stationary upon the crown of a distant knoll" I perceived it to be that of a boy of slight build, clad in leg- gings of coarse cloth, heavy brown boots and a worn, faded greatcoat. The child stood motionless, his head in- clined towards the sky. The wind tugged at his long fair hair, throwing it against his pale Jace. lfollowed his eye to a speck hovering overhead, as I watched the speck in- creased in size and took form. The hawk's great wings spread wide, guiding his sharp eye over the countryside. As it neared the boy I could sense a tenseness in the child, not of fear but of an affinity with the awesome beauty of the bird, wild and free. As the bird became once more a dot on the horizon, I returned my gaze to the boy. As I watched the delicate child spread his arms 100

wide, beat them up and down, his eyes gleamed but his face remained tense with concentration. Suddenly he stumbled in a limping fashion down the side of the knoll, dragging one of his legs behind him. He was a cripple. The wind danced teasingly in and out of his long hair as if it were the mane of a wild pony. He stumbled clumsiiy down the slope, hls crippled foot leaving a trail of upturn- ed vegetation in its wake. Despite the awkwardness of the flight, lfelt emotion surge through my blood as thrs delicate figure struggled for the f reedom of the hawk and the spirit of the wild pony. The sun was no longer at the zenith, but creeping down below the horizon. Close by a famrliar figure sat on the damp earth. His bad leg stretched uselessly in front of him, thin, weak and deformed. He was busily occupied in constructing a 'daisy chain' from the yellow gorsebush flowers. Delicately he tnreaded the stem of one flower into the stem of the next. He had a pile of the flowers in his lap from which he would carefully select the fullest and largest {or his chain. When his supply dwindled he would crawl to a nearby bush and pick off a dozen, and then return to his place, all the while dragging his leg laboriously behind him. Finally, after a long time his chain was completed. The cripple struggled to his feet using a nearby bush as a support. His eyes scanned the horizon until they came to rest upon a cluster of fluffy white balls. He began the long hike, dragging himself up the side of a knoll, using grass tufts and bushes as han- dholds, then limping down the other srde desperately try- ing to remain upright The sun.had almost set before the sound of bleats could be detected on the air. The ewes were calling to their young to huddle close before night overtook them. A" spindly lamb, eyes large and bold, defied his mother's call and approached the boy. He nuzzled the grubby hand ano delicate face. As the garland of flowers was placed gently about his snow-white neck he licked the leggings which held the crippled limb. An urgent bleat f rom the ewe caused the lamb to return to the flock, holding his head high as his prize swung f reely about his neck. The boy stared for a long while, his eyes following the little lamb as it wandered in and out of the cluster of worried sheep, its neck encircled by a garland which had been so carefully made, and so humbly given. The heavens opened and the rain fell in a steaming tor- rent. The bushes swayed violently as the harsh wind and the piercing rain began their onslaught. Pockets of mud- dy water accumulated in each depressiorr, twigs snap- ped under the weight of the downpour. The wind slapped the icy rain against my face, grappled with my coat and threatened to hurl me to the ground. The departure was as rapid as the arrival. The rain ceas- ed, and a rainbow formed an arc across the sky. Water droplets slid f rom each leaf and branch onto the ground beneath, forming muddy rivulets in the now spongy earth, which carved intricate passages like those of an ancient watercourse. The f luffy, cumulus clouds, all that remained of the downpour, caused a patchwork of light and shade to fall upon the countryside below as the sun's rays shone through. As the rain ceased lwas better able to survey my sur- roundings. Here and there a timid hare would venture out of its burrow to sniff the air, cleaned and freshened by the recent storm. Nearby a small herd of wild ponies grazed, their rumps turned towards the wind. They were