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The Strid (standard:drama, 1571 words)
Author: Ian HobsonAdded: Aug 20 2004Views/Reads: 4233/2201Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
My first ever short story... Rex stopped at one of the water filled holes and lapped at the cold clear water, whilst Harry, still holding Rex’s makeshift lead, stepped closer to where the water thrashed and churned between the rocks…
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

inhabitants of the wood that danger was abroad, and Rex's barking 
confirmed the magpie's warning.  Then further ahead a grouse took to 
the air, calling loudly, having decided that flight was a better option 
than concealment. 

‘Rex!  Heel!' commanded Harry.  With a last bark at the fleeing grouse
Rex reluctantly returned to Harry's side.  Harry took a length of thick 
twine from his pocket and tied one end to Rex's collar.  ‘We've no time 
for hunting grouse today Rex.  You'll have me late for school.'  Harry 
continued on downhill, keeping a tight grip on the twine but letting 
Rex lead by a good six feet.  They could hear the sound of rushing 
water now, and momentarily the fog cleared, giving them a glimpse of 
the River Wharfe below through the trees.  At a junction of paths they 
took the right-hand fork and descend to the Strid, stepping out of the 
treeline and onto the broad sandstone slabs. 

At the head of the Strid the speed of the water rapidly increased as it
was funneled between the rocks, frothing and falling by a yard or more 
into the first section, where the soft sandstone had been deeply cut by 
the force of the water over countless years.  Overnight rain had raised 
the water level but the river was still relatively low, leaving clear 
evidence of the force of the water etched deep into the rocks for 
several feet to either side.  The action of the swirling water and 
pebbles caught in whirlpools having drilled deep bowl shaped holes. 

Rex stopped at one of the water filled holes and lapped at the cold
clear water, whilst Harry, still holding Rex's makeshift lead, stepped 
closer to where the water thrashed and churned between the rocks.  The 
compulsion to look over the edge and into the surging torrent as 
irresistible as the first time he had gone there with his elder 
brothers.  Harry walked on with Rex beside him, stepping lightly over 
the natural sandstone steps towards the narrowest part of the Strid.  
Harry's second oldest brother, Sam, had first shown Harry where and how 
to jump across. 

Harry walked towards the treeline but stopped at a long straight crack
in the rocky floor, turning to put the toe of his left boot to it.  Rex 
stood beside him with his tail wagging, his eyes on his master.  Harry 
knelt beside Rex for a moment, putting his arm around him and ruffling 
his shaggy coat with his hand.  Then he untied the twine that was 
attached to Rex's collar and put it back into his pocket, and with 
three short steps followed by four long strides, he leapt over the 
rushing waters of the Strid.  Rex ran and jumped with him and the two 
of them landed safely on the slightly lower rock at the other side.  
Harry turned and looked down into the swirling water, but as always he 
saw not the water, but the face of his brother Sam. 

It was almost two years since Sam had drowned in the Strid.  Rex had
been Sam's puppy, and when he had grown big enough, Sam had taught him 
to jump.  But his habit of keeping Rex on a lead when they leapt over 
the Strid had been quite literally his downfall, as one day Rex had 
stopped short of the water's edge.  Sam had let go of the lead, but the 
distraction and slight loss of momentum had caused him to fall 
backwards as his feet hit slippery rocks at the other side of the 
water. 

Harry and his three other brothers had all jumped the Strid before Sam,
and on hearing his cry of distress they had all run back and looked 
down into the churning water.  But Sam was gone.  They had raced 
downstream, hoping against hope to see Sam's head come bobbing up in 
the calmer water beyond the Strid, but their hopes were in vain.  Sam 
had been sucked under, knocked senseless by the strong swirling current 
and trapped forever by the force of the water, wedged into a crevice 
many feet below the surface. 

Harry and his brothers had been ordered by their distraught father to
never go near the Strid again.  But Harry, unable to leave his favorite 
brother alone in his watery grave, had returned.  And when Rex had 
leapt over the Strid once more, Harry had followed. 

Rex barked and Harry turned away from the water, setting off once more
for the village.  The fog was even thicker downstream, but Harry and 
Rex knew every stone and tree root and could almost have found their 
way blindfold. 

*** 

As always, I step down from rock to rock, getting as close as I dare to
the ever-churning water.  The compulsion to look over the edge and into 
the surging torrent as irresistible as the first time I came here years 
ago.  The fog is beginning to clear now and a little watery sunshine is 
beginning to filter through.  It looks like it's going to be a real 
nice day. 


   


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