The Incredibly Boring and Uninteresting Adventures of Maud Pie and Boulder

The last week had been very...different for me to say the least.

Pinkie had talked about her friends in her letters to me. They were as I had expected them to be, for the most part. They were all very nice ponies. It put my mind at ease that Pinkie has such good friends. It was too bad that we could not become as close as my sister would have wished, but at the very least we have a love of Pinkie in common.

After that day, I had decided to stay with my father at the farm until it was time for Boulder and I to leave for Appleloosa. The days passed by rather quickly. After all, it was time to harvest the rocks from the southern field. Father insisted that I leave the work to them, but there was no way that I would be able to pass up such an exciting task.

It did not take long for the week to end, unfortunately. The day had come for Boulder and me to leave for the town just to the north of Ponyville. I packed up my things, which contained a change of frocks, a hammer, a plate, a magnifying glass, a file, a knife, gravity meter, and a reference guide, all of which were necessary for identifying the local rocks of the town. There had been news that a motherlode of gold had been discovered in one of the orchards. I had to see for myself.

My family had decided to see me off at the train station. The conductor called out a five minute warning. “Well, it was nice having you back, Maude,” father said.

“It certainly was,” mother added.

My sister just stared at me, looking confused.

“It was my pleasure,” I said.

We stood in silence until “Last call for non-stop service to Appleloosa!” was said over the loudspeaker.

“Well...come by to see us more often,” father said.

“I will,” I said. Then I showed the conductor my ticket and got on the train. That had been a very pleasant goodbye.

The train to Appleloosa would take a few hours, which would give me plenty of time to go over the information I had managed to get about this vein of gold.

“You headin' out ta the gold rush, 'dere?”

I turned to see another Earth pony sitting across from me. He was brown with an unkempt, gray-streaked mane and tail. He was strikingly old. He was also missing a couple of his teeth. “Yes,” I answered. I returned to my book, not at all interested in speaking to him.

A few minutes passed before the Earth pony spoke to me again. “This is tha' umpteenth time that this 'as 'appened,” he said. When I did not respond, he continued speaking. “But ah'm not missin' it this time! No siree, bob! I'ma git mah hands ahn dat gold an' finally make somethin' of mahself!”

“Hm,” I grunted. He looked barely strong enough to pick up a shovel, let alone dig.

“You doubtin' old Brass Tacks, little missy?” he asked me accusingly. “I'll have ya' know that ah've been at every gold rush that's eva 'appened in this country since Ponyville was founded!”

“And yet you still have not gotten any?” I pointed out.

He opened his mouth to say something, but did not. He remained quiet for the rest of the ride, mostly mumbling to himself about being rich and “know-it-all city folks”.

To tell the truth, I might have made a small error in judgment by spending so much time at the farm. Ponies had been swarming to Appleloosa during this time, all wanting to get piece of the motherlode. I did not care too much to be honest. I do not have much use for riches or money. All I care about are the rocks themselves.

I removed Boulder from my pocket and looked at him. “What do you think about this?” I asked him. He had been my friend since I was a filly on my parents' rock farm. He had yet to steer me wrong. I nodded. “I think so too,” I responded.

Brass Tacks looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. He scooted away from me to the edge of his seat closest to the window. That was the response I usually got when I spoke with Boulder. I have yet to understand why.

I had only been to Appleloosa once or twice in my life. Those few times I had managed to find some interesting specimens: some malachite, jade, amethyst and a three pound diamond. It was thirty-two karats. It was a bit sweeter than I was used to, but it was still pretty tasty.

As the old man had stated, this was not the first gold rush that this town had experienced, though the first had been far before his time...I think. It was about fifty years ago when a vein had been found in what is now the Apple Orchards. Back then, the buffalo were still using it as their Stampeding Grounds. The ponies had negotiated with the buffalo, who agreed to let the ponies find their gold on the condition that they left as soon as their business was done.

And that is where the story got strange. There was no record of any gold ever being found. The ponies left soon after and the matter was never brought up again. I wondered if this would end up the same way? I will admit that my curiosity got the best of me here. I was more interested in figuring out what happened with the gold.

Was the gold rush a hoax? It looked like it might be, but I trusted Boulder's judgment. He was usually correct about these things. After all, I learned a lot of what I still know about rocks from him. It was so weird that he did not share the same passion about rocks that I did.

Boulder was so weird.

Either way there were a lot of questions to be answered, and I intended to find them.