Disclaimer: I don't own the Black…
Chapter 3
By now, I was pretty much used to life with the herd. We were safe, and aside from a few minor disturbances, I was perfectly happy. And sadly, ignorant.
As my mother had said, even though Northlight was around, we rarely got to see him. Some days, we woke to find him grazing side by side with the herd, other days he would appear at dawn to check on us, then leave the rest of the day. I'd never really come to think of him as my father. He was just there… a guardian, someone to look up to. The herd was often left to my mother, who usually led the herd to water, or kept watch for predators. She would keep an eye on the weanlings while their mother's grazed, and especially on us colts.
We fought a lot, especially us colts, though Thunder generally preferred to watch from the sidelines even if he fought well himself. Acting like small stallions, we would snort and paw the earth, prancing before our opponent with teeth bared, ears pinned back, and tail raised, hoping to intimidate our enemy. If that didn't work, we would charge. When we met, we would use our shoulders to ram each other out of balance. We would twist, kick, use our hooves, rear, swerve, dodge, do anything just to get our teeth on the crest of the neck of whoever was fighting with us. The moment we got our teeth on our opponent's necks, we would try and try to throw him to down on the ground. The moment he was on the ground, whoever was left standing would be the winner. But that rarely happened, because we were still too young and our bodies were still too light to do any real damage. One day though, I somehow managed it. And by luck, it was Raha whom I'd been fighting.
As we fought, our experience grew. We learned to play to our strengths. My mother said it was good practice for our fighting when we grew up, because there would be a lot of fighting when we were grown; fighting for mares, and fighting for territory.
The fillies were another matter. They were shy and quiet under the noses of the mares, but once they were with us away from their mothers, they became almost as mischievous and rambunctious as we were.
Most of the weanlings were generally friendly, most of the mares generally maternal. And possessive. They would look fondly at us playing, but the moment trouble came, they would rush teeth bared to the defense of their weanlings. Trouble came often, and I was almost always in the middle of it.
When we had been foals, everybody (all the foals, that is) hadn't been that goody-two-shoes, but they still generally obeyed their mothers. Now however, we were getting harder and harder to control, specially the colts, and particularly Raha. He took to bullying the younger colts and fillies, and bossing us older ones around. And somehow, I don't know why, he seemed to have picked me for his special target.
When we were grazing, he would sometimes sneak up and nip or kick our rumps or sides. Then, when the nipped colt or filly would spin around to take their revenge, a mare, having seen the colt or filly and not Raha, would gallop up just then. Raha would just stand and smirk while the colt or filly got a scolding or even another nip. He was very rarely caught, and when Reva came to his rescue, most of the mares usually got intimidated, and backed off, dragging their protesting colt or filly with them. (I don't know why, but Reva was always coming to his rescue.) We learned to be alert, occasionally raising our heads from the grass to check if he was near, and some of the weanlings paired up like Thunder and I did. Two pairs of eyes, ears and noses were harder to sneak up on than one pair alone.
Even though Raha was by unspoken consent the leader of all our races and games, he unpopular because of the above, and all of us were constantly coming up with ways to get back at him. But when we retaliated, he got us into even more trouble, so we gave up and tried another tactic instead. Tactic # 2: Avoiding the Raha menace.
Every morning, before he could come up to us and ask us to play, we would go off deep into the woods or into the canyons and spend the whole day there, only returning to the meadow by nightfall. Raha would spend the whole day trying to get somebody to play with him. Nobody would. This went on for 14 moons, until I made him promise before all the weanlings that he wouldn't bother any of us anymore.
And so, our lives went on in a perfect world, until the day it all got shattered into pieces.
That day had started just like any ordinary day. It was early autumn, and the leaves had just turned yellow. I was half dozing, standing under a shady tree head to tail with Thunder. We had gone up a new cliff yesterday, and when coming back down, instead of taking the longer, harder, but safer way, Thunder had suggested that instead, we follow the trail that lead straight down the cliff face, into the canyon floor where a deep, wide river ran. That way was shorter and easier, but it lead right beside the river, southwest, and that was the trail the humans had always used. We had been tired and so I agreed without thinking. The rain had started when we were halfway down, and by the time we reached level ground, we were drenched. I hadn't care about the tracks we had made in the mud along the river, because the rain would wash them away anyway. The rain had stopped suddenly, and the sun had come out again, so that by the time we reached the herd that night, our sodden coats were as dry as the rest of the herd.
And now, while we were dozing, my mother (who was dry that year; she didn't have a foal) galloped by, neighing as she went past, "There might be humans coming. Thunder, go find Golden. Spirit, go with him and wait for me with the herd. Don't move until I come back. " She was running in the direction of the canyons where we had passed through yesterday. A copper blur streaked past me as Northlight went after her. Thunder and I were now awake, and we took off for the herd.
We were standing with Golden when the earth shook and a mob of mustangs, Saber's herd, came pouring down the ridge and into our meadow. I heard Golden gasp when two other horses appeared behind the terrified mares and foals. There were humans sitting on the strangers. They cracked their whips and shouted when the mares tried to break free.
Our own herd had bunched into a tight group, with all the foals in the center. Northlight came galloping back. He flashed by me and whinnied,
" Wait for your mother. She's coming. Don't follow, you aren't coming with us." as he set off to round up his mares and began leading them south, over the hill where we had never been allowed to go. Golden and Thunder and all the other mares and foals went by and disappeared over the hill. I was left all alone in the middle of the meadow. Another herd of mustangs came dashing into the meadow out of nowhere. There was kicking and squealing when the second herd nearly collided with Saber's. Dust rose. I couldn't really tell then, but it looked like a fourth herd had been driven into our meadow.
And I finally understood. The humans were using our meadow as a giant collecting pen, driving all the herds into it. It was easy to guard, with the mountains to the north and the woods to the east. The mares with foals would never dare to try and get over the mountains, and if they escaped towards the woods, they would be slowed down because of the trees and brush. There were only two other places to get away. One was the canyon; the humans had come from there. The other was the hill, where Northlight had driven our entire herd. We were surrounded.
The humans were now among us, riding their tame horses everywhere and rounding up the mustangs. There were whistles and yells. A stallion reared and bugled. I dove out of the way when a tame horse with its human came galloping by.
I could hear someone, a stallion maybe, yelling, " Watch out for the ropes!" What are ropes? I must have said it aloud, because when a mare rushed past me with a human after her, she neighed over her shoulder " Those are ropes! Those twirly thingies that fly in the air…"
One of those things that are called ropes flew over her head and settled on her neck. I couldn't see her anymore, because at that time, another pair of horse and human went past me and I had to get out of the way again.
I could fear my panic rising. Where was Mother? She should have come by now… and what did Northlight mean when he said we weren't going with him and the herd? Without the protection of the herd, we were as good as dead. And with the predators-coyotes, cougars … and now the humans…
In all the noise and the confusion, I waited and waited for my mother. And at last, above all the terrified squeals and frantic neighs, I heard the sharp, familiar whinny. I shook my forelock out of my eyes and took off for the hill. The dust cleared and I saw my mother standing on the hill, waiting for me. There were yells. I saw a human coming after me from the corner of my eye but I kept going anyway. Something whistled through the air and I felt a rope come over my head and settle around my neck. I didn't pay any attention to it, just kept running.
Until suddenly, I was pulled up short, the rope digging into my withers. I threw myself against it and almost choked. There was a human beside me now, holding the end of my rope. My mother was still at the top of the hill. She reared, then went plunging back down the hill, towards us, her teeth bared.
I was torn. I was scared, and I wanted my mother. But I also didn't want her to get caught. The human beside me had dismounted. His horse stood steady. I pulled at the rope hopefully, but it didn't give. The tame horse turned and eyed me sternly. The human had walked a little before us. He stopped and whistled.
My mother froze.
The human whistled again.
He began to walk toward my mother, a coil of rope in his hands. And I remembered what my mother had said about Men. Her voice came again. "...You would find yourself frozen into place, as if paralyzed… and all the while, he is inching closer and closer to you, with a rope in his hands…he will throw the rope around your neck…" My mother had said that it would never happen to her. But now it was…
The human had now reached her. He was talking to her, patting her, slipping the rope around her neck. I stood and watched, dazed. The human tugged on the rope and my mother seemed to reawaken. She shook her head and tried to pull free, kicking and trying to bite the human, who dodged out of the way. The human let go of the rope. I felt the tame horse beside me brace itself and dig in its feet. The rope that led from the tame horse beside me to my mother grew taut.
I think my mother knew it herself. Her head dropped and when the human tugged on the rope again, she quietly followed him back to us.
Northlight appeared on the hill. He saw us and reared. My mother shook her head. The humans hadn't seen him. He vanished. I was relieved. At least, a member of our herd had seen us and knew what had happened to us. And I was sure that Northlight would come for us again.
The human led us both toward the main mob. My mother would not look at me or speak to me. The human who had caught us raised his arms and whooped. " I got her!" he yelled. I jumped; so did my mother. The other humans were going among the horses, looking at their teeth, lifting their feet, walking around them and talking to themselves. That is, they were doing that when they weren't dodging hooves and teeth. The horses fought. They fought a lot. We watched as a gray mare screamed and lunged for the nearest human. Her teeth sank on his arm while the other humans clustered around and got their ropes around her neck. She was pulled away, her teeth still bared, by two of the tame horses.
The humans were choosing us, taking who they wanted, and they were letting the rest go. I glanced at the human, or rather, the horse who had our ropes, hoping that he would take them off. He didn't; he was busily talking with the humans who had taken their pick, making strange mouth sounds and gestures with his hands. A strange, huge box had rumbled up to us, and one of the humans stuck his head out from inside the box and yelled,
"The truck is ready!" Some humans led the horses who had been chosen and had ropes around their necks toward the box. A human stood at the bottom of the ramp and took off the ropes. They clambered up the ramp and were swallowed by the box. Our human led us there too. My mother's rope wasn't taken off. He slipped my rope of my head, but before I could bolt, he took the end of my mother's rope and tied it around my neck. We were the last mustangs up the ramp. The door groaned and slid close with a sickening thud, and we were enclosed in darkness.
It was then that my mother turned to me. " I'm sorry." Her voice shook. We were the only horses talking then. The others stood still and silent, stunned and shocked. She dropped her head and whickered in my ear, "Do you know how they found us?"
Realization didn't slowly dawn on me; it hit me with a bang. Our hoofprints! Yesterday, when Thunder and I were going along the riverbank, it had rained. The ground was turned to mud, and our tracks were left there, imprinted clear as day. They would have been washed away if it had rained more, but the rain had stopped and the sun had come out. The heat had baked our prints in the soil. And our prints led right back to the meadow.
My mother nodded when she saw me close my eyes. " Thank goodness we were the only ones from our herd to be caught." She nibbled my mane and told me the whole story as the truck rumbled and sped us away from our home. The only home I had ever known.
She had been planning on taking me to a small cave in the west canyons, a place so rocky that humans never went there. If the humans had followed our herd and didn't find us there, they would've gone away and left us alone, as they had done. If they had seen us, there would have been many more round-ups; the humans wouldn't stop until we were caught. And my mother didn't want to endanger the herd. She was checking that the trail to the cave was clear. That was what had taken her so long. If we had reached that cave, we would have waited out the round-up, until the humans were gone and we could come out again and rejoin the herd. " But now, the only thing to do is to try to escape, if we get the chance."
How many moons came and passed while we were in that truck, I do not know. We were in that truck a long time. Once, the truck door had opened and all us horses had been led outside. Nobody had tried to bolt; it would have been useless. We were inside a paddock. A new human came with one of the humans that had caught us. He picked up our feet and looked at our teeth. My mother and I were led away, together with a roan mare and a young white foal. We were loaded into a second truck. Before the door was closed, I saw the new human give what looked like square leaves to the other human.
When I asked my mother about it later, she said that those weren't leaves. " They're what the humans call money. Humans prize those bits of paper very highly, and would sometimes kill each other for them. Money is used in trade or exchange for something. The humans who caught us sold us to the middleman. A middleman," she added, " is someone who buys and sells horses." And she fell silent once more.
We stayed in that truck a long time, far longer than we had spent in the previous truck. The roan mare and her foal kept to themselves, and we kept to ourselves. There was no use talking to my mother; what had we to talk about? The discussion and the subject of how to escape had already been exhausted. I quickly got bores, and would spend half my time thinking about the herd and what the foals would be doing right now, and the other half wishing that I was doing it with them.
I had been daydreaming, and was wishing that I had someone to talk to other than myself when the truck lurched and stopped. The roan mare and her white foal, surprised, were nearly knocked off their feet. I was thrown forward, banging my nose on the wall. When I had picked myself up, I found my mother standing there calmly, as if nothing had happened at all. " I'm used to this." She said quietly, looking amused at the expression on my face. The truck door was slid open, flooding the whole truck with sunlight and nearly blinding us. I could barely make out two figures standing across the doorway, waiting to take us down.
A hand reached out-a five-fingered, human hand-and grasped the rope between me and my mother. My mother tried to bite the hand but it went up and pushed her muzzle aside. The rope was given a tug. My mother braced her feet and stayed in the van. The hand disappeared and reappeared a few moments later with a white cloth. The human lifted himself into the truck beside us and the cloth was tied around my mother's eyes. The human tugged again on the rope and my mother followed him down the ramp, me trotting by her side. We were in another paddock, this one smaller than the first one I had seen. Behind me, I could hear the scuffling inside the van as the roan mare snorted and tried to kick the humans. The humans backed out of the van, and the roan mare shot down the ramp and into the paddock, her filly a white blur at her heels.
The humans went away and we were left alone.
The roan mare still wasn't looking at
us. She bent over her foal, licking and nuzzling the filly. My mother trotted
around the paddock, looking around and taking note of possible escape routes. "
This changes everything." She said to me in a low voice. " We are far, very,
very far from the meadow. I'd passed this place when I ran away long ago. This
is dozens of miles from home. If we do get out, I could get there, but you
couldn't possible make it." she was eyeing me, calculating my strength. " I
can," I declared. " Home can't possibly be that far, can it?"
" I'm afraid it is." She said soberly. " Its too far for you."
" I'm a weanling!"
"You are not yet one year old. I've seen foals older than you who attempted shorter distances than this, and they didn't make it!"
" But I'm not a-" She cut me short with her look, one of the fiercest she had ever given me yet.
We had been standing facing each other and I saw her eyes widen. Before I could turn around to look for whatever it was that had frightened her, I felt another rope being thrown around my neck. At the same time, the rope between us was cut with a knife.
When the human tugged on my rope, I dug in my feet and refused to budge until I saw the other human leading my mother right beside me. We were turned out on paddocks beside each other, so that we could still talk over the wooden fence. My mother set off to explore her paddock; I walked around mine as well. We were talking over the fence when the roan mare and her filly were led here; the filly, who was put in my paddock, ignored me as usual and so did the mare who was put in with my mother. I glanced at them and continued talking with my mother, our earlier argument forgotten. "There's a hole in here, between the last piece of wood and the ground. It's small, but I bet that it'll get bigger if I dig at it. Then, I could go over to your side." I whickered to my mother. She looked about, then shook her head. " Don't do it now; do it tonight. If the humans see you, they may put you in another paddock, and we don't want that. The fence here is low enough for me to jump out. I want to try doing it tonight. But we have to wait for them-" she glanced at the roan mare and the filly. "to go to sleep before we try it."
As it turned out, even though I pawed at it all afternoon, the hole didn't get any larger. That night, I watched my mother trot to the far side of her paddock, then turn and cantered straight at the fence. She went to a gallop near it, and bounded over the fence with ease. When she jumped back in, she was smiling. " That went well. You'll be able to do when you're a bit older; it isn't as hard as it looks." And amazingly, the roan mare stayed fast asleep.
As the days passed, the humans left us alone, and with no one to play with, I was left to my digging. The filly still wasn't speaking to me. My mother had told me in a hushed voice that the roan mare had been blaming us for their capture. " She knows that I was a tame horse, although how she knew that is a miracle." My mother nickered softly.
The problem was, although the hole had grown slightly larger, digging is a very boring job. But there was nothing else to do, and so I had to go on digging, digging, pawing the earth with my hoof…I could have fallen asleep doing it. If this was captivity, then I could see why my mother had wanted out of it. But she reassured me that there was much more later. This was just the beginning. And it was going to get worse. And she also told me that if we were ever separated, she knew that I could take care of myself now. If I did escape, and I wasn't with her, she told me that all I had to do was to follow the sunset by day, and follow the north star by night. " Just go northwest…keep on going northwest, whatever you do. Don't worry, every true mustang will find his true home, where he truly belongs…"
Several moons later, I was dozing with my head down when I was awakened by nickering, and a thudding sound. I raised my head, suddenly wide awake. Everything looked peaceful; there was the sleeping filly keeping away from me as usual, the roan mare with her head down, and my mother-
I felt my stomach lurch. My mother wasn't in her paddock.
I threw myself down on the ground and wiggled through the now-noticeably-larger hole, and into my mother's paddock. The roan mare was still sleeping. I put my head down and began searching the ground. I found my mother's scent and followed it. The scent trail led to the far side of the paddock, then went back to the fence. I had a guess, a hunch-and on the ground a few feet from the fence, I found my proof. There were two deeply-imprinted hoofprints. A horse couldn't have made them walking; he couldn't have made them galloping. He made them jumping.
By now, I was getting worried. My mother wouldn't have left me all alone and gone off by herself. I went around the paddock with my nose to the ground. And there, near the place where she had jumped, I found a strange whiff of something-something that was strange, and yet was oddly familiar all the same. My suspicion grew. I wiggled out of the paddock (Yay, I was free! I'd been wanting to do that for days) and followed the scent trail. (Boy, if I keep on doing this, I'd soon become a tracking dog, not a horse.) There were definitely two scents. One was my mother's. The other was the stranger's. And I somehow knew that the stranger was a stallion. My father had come for my mother.
I followed the trail through the night. The scent disappeared often, going over stones and grass. There were no tracks. It might have been hard to track, but my mother had raised me, and she had taught me all her tricks. The scent led me west, and I followed until I lost it when I got to a brook. The brook was shallow and I continued to look for the trail after swimming the water and clambering up the opposite bank. The wind came, and I caught another whiff of the scent. It had gotten stronger. They were near…
I'd just entered a clearing when I stepped on a twig. Two heads shot up-one, black as night-my mother's-and the other, a dark copper colored stallion's. I could barely make out my mother's shining white star in the darkness, and only the stallion's flaxen mane and tail gave away where he was. They both stiffened.
There was silence for a moment. Then, " Spirit, is that you?" came my mother's voice. For a moment, I considered telling her that no, I wasn't Spirit, just to see her reaction. Until I realized that there was no use pretending; my now-dirty-and-dusty golden coat had given me away. I sighed. " Yeah, that's me." My mother relaxed, and so did Northlight. He had a healing cut on his nose; it was obvious that the cut had barely healed when it was opened again.
I took a deep breath. " Can I go home with you?" I asked. Which was pretty stupid and unnecessary, I realized a moment later, since I was sure my mother would say yes; hadn't she herself told me that I was now old enough to take care of myself? And hadn't that included going home with them, however far home was? Thoughts of our meadow were running through my head. I could practically picture myself back once again at the meadow, galloping with the other weanlings, plunging my nose in the cold water in the brook …… I was dimly aware of my mother shaking her head. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Was I seeing right? My mother was still shaking her head.
" But you said- " She cut me off. " I know what I said. And I only said that you were old enough to be able to take care of yourself, not that you would be able to make the journey."
My mouth fell open. I closed it. " But why do you have to go?" I asked. Northlight answered for her. " The herd's in trouble without a lead mare." He said softly. " Your mother's the lead mare. She knows where the best grazing grounds and the streams are. I don't know that much about them myself. If famine came and your mother wasn't there, the herd would starve.
Mares lead, stallions protect. Lead mares guard the herd when the stallion's away. Some moons ago, Saber came and tried to steal more mares. While I was out fighting him, another stallion came."
He didn't need to say anymore; I understood. That was why he had that cut; he had fought two stallions, one after the other. If my mother had been there, she would have lead the herd to safety and made sure that none of the mares were missing.
" The humans will come after us. Even if you could make the distance, and even if you're part thoroughbred, I doubt you could outrun a full-grown stock horse. And the terrain's flat, so you won't have any hiding places. Plus, there'll be coyotes and snakes…" My mother trailed off.
My anger rose. What was it with her?
" Its not that we don't want you to come home with us," she added hastily as my face fell. " But I mean, what's the use of getting free if you're only going to die in the process? You'll be wasting your life. It would be better if you went back and waited a bit, until you're four or five years old-" "What! That long? But-" "-because by then, you'll make the distance and you can fight off the coyotes and-" "I don't want to wait until I'm four years old! That's years and years away-" " It's not that long, before you know it, you'll be back with us-" "You said that when Star was going to be captured, he jumped the cliff instead! I'd rather-" " Star was in a different situation! It was either that or capture! And you aren't Star! You have the choice of going back, staying there, and running away again, or you can come with us now and regret it for the rest of your life!" We were both breathing hard and glaring at each other. " It's not that we don't want you to come with us," she said again, a little more calmly. "In fact, we would have been glad that you could come, and proud that you could track us here."
I didn't hear her; my mind was still spinning. My mother! My own mother didn't want me to go home…and it was she who had taught me to want to be free…
Northlight, who had been watching silently up to this point, broke in on my thoughts. " Go back son… it's almost dawn and the humans will be looking for you…go on…we have to go now before its daylight or we'll be too easy to track…go on…" I was brought back to my senses. He was right; the sky was already gray tinged with yellow on the horizon. If I galloped all the way back, I could still make it. There was a thudding sound and as I turned my head, I saw two blurs, one black, the other copper, burst out of the thicket, streak up the hill and stop. Northlight reared and pawed the air in silent farewell; I reared too. Then, they were gone.
I turned, made my way across the brook, and began cantering back, back to captivity…
I went into a gallop as soon as I reached level ground.
I was back in my paddock just before the sun rose, dusty and tired, and by the time the white filly woke up, I was there, as if nothing had happened the night before, still asleep.
*~*~*~*~*
The humans did look for my mother. They came in the morning, and I watched them walk around and around the part of the fence where my mother had jumped, bending down to look at the ground and making their mouth noises. They walked a bit further on, but I knew that they wouldn't find any tracks. The humans went away and came back with dogs. The dogs sniffed and howled, but they ran around and around in circles and finally came back to their masters with their heads drooping and their tails low. The humans went away for the third time, and came back with stock horses. They rode away, and came back at the end of the day looking dusty and tired. And defeated. There were no mustangs with them.
For the rest of the day, and for several moons afterwards, I couldn't keep the triumphant smile off my face. Somewhere out there, my mother and father were running, with their heads down low and their hooves pounding the ground; running with the wind in their faces, lifting their manes and tails, going ever westward. Going home.