“Humans! They have found us. We must run until they leave.”
“Why?” I screamed, even more panicked. “What do humans want with us?” I was so scared even my ears were shaking.
“I don’t know.” Father yelled back, terrified to the point that the whites of his eyes were showing.
If Father was that scared, this couldn’t be good for the herd, since he was always known for becoming angry before he became fearful.
“Humans tried to get us once before, long before you were born,” he huffed. “We outsmarted them then and we can do it again now.” He dropped his head and began running even faster. Turning his head to look back at me, he yelled, “I’m going to check up ahead. Your job is to keep everyone moving. Look after the others. I will be right back.”
With that said, he charged ahead and I took on his job of leading the herd. I slowed my pace down slightly, circling the herd, nudging them back together, remembering what Mother taught me, “Stay with the herd and stick together. There is always safety in numbers.”
The enormous bird, which Father just told me were the humans, kept following us. Sometimes it circled us and other times it slowed down a bit, but it always stayed behind and drove us forward with its fury of wind. Never did it make a move to strike. It just seemed to want to linger behind and follow us. Strange as it was, there was no time to think about this dangerous predator who could change its shape when it wanted, yet not attack its prey.
With the entire herd close together, we kept running to the edge of our territory until we were about to enter into another herd’s area. I could hear everyone behind me breathing heavily and starting to slow down even more. “No!” I screamed, “Run! Father said we must keep running.” I strained my ears behind me, struggling to hear if the humans were also tiring. I couldn’t hear any signs of them slowing.
“We can’t keep going,” Mother yelled. Her breathing was short and labored and sweat drenched her heavy sides. “We’re losing our breath; our legs are about to collapse!” I understood what Mother meant. My own lungs felt like they were on fire and my breath came in short bursts. My legs felt as if they would shatter into a thousand pieces at any moment and my heart pounded so hard I was afraid it might burst. We couldn’t keep this pace up much longer. Run! Pure terror kept us moving. Run! We knew we were running for our lives. Somehow, we had to escape this predator, this predator called human.
Father came thundering up from the side just then. “This way! They won’t be able to follow us down here.” He had spotted a canyon where the sides dropped away to thin air. He led us all down and away from the humans.
The footing was rough. Rocks kept rattling loose from under my hooves, making me slip and scurry to stay on my feet. Father slid on some loose stones but luckily he kept his balance. He
slowed us down to a trot and allowed us to pick the safest path to descend without risking a broken leg. It gave the herd a chance to catch its breath. A little rest from the breakneck pace we had been keeping was all we needed.
As soon as everyone was on flat ground again, we trotted deeper and deeper into a narrow valley. The canyon walls rose up above us and surrounded us on three sides. Father was right; the humans weren’t able to follow us. We felt safe again.
We slowed our pace even further. My breathing came easier and deeper and my lungs stopped burning. My legs, while tired, could have kept this pace for the rest of the day if I needed to.
Up ahead stood a lone horse who watched us as if he was waiting for us to join him. He sprinted out ahead just before Father reached the horse. Father started our herd galloping again to catch up. Before he could talk to the outsider to find out what was going on, though, we came to a fork in the canyon. The strange horse veered sharply to the left and we followed.
Father didn’t know he was leading us straight into a trap until it was too late. The canyon walls drew tighter and tighter, funneling us in. The path became so narrow that we were now running single file: first the strange horse, then Father, me, Mother, and the rest of the herd. The path twisted and turned until finally the canyon walls opened back up and the herd was together again. Only the path had ended. We were caught in a
box canyon! Father roared in anger, reared up, and spun around. He was ready to lead us all back out to safety.
Then an enormous tree, even taller than Father, slammed across the opening, closing us inside. We were trapped!
Father screamed and again reared up to the sky. As soon as his front feet hit the ground again he backed up to get a running start and tried to leap over the barrier that blocked us. He threw his body up as high as he could, but it was no use. The barrier was so tall that Father’s legs could never clear it. His body slammed to the ground with a heart-stopping THUMP!
Slowly, painfully, Father got back on his feet. He shook his head violently to clear it from the fall. That’s when we noticed his nose was dripping blood either from hitting the wall so hard or the ground even harder. Poor Father. He dropped his bloody nose to the ground. He had led us straight into the human’s trap, and he couldn’t get us out. I had never seen my father so sad, so defeated.
*****
I learned a great deal over the next couple of days. I found out that humans were incredible predators, just as Father had said. Not only did they walk upright on two legs, but they could also turn themselves into a bird or dragonfly to chase us into a trap and capture us. I also found out the horse we followed was what Father called a “Judas” horse. It was an animal trained to do exactly what he did: deceive us, trap us. He was a wild mustang who had been caught, tamed, and trained by humans. Part of his training involved joining up with herds of wild horses and then leading them right into the humans’ corrals. This Judas horse was very well trained. He betrayed us without a second thought.
The first thing the humans did was to separate us into small groups. They chased us around with sticks that had something white tied to the end that made a lot of noise. It sounded as if I had come across hundreds of Western Diamondback rattlesnakes at once. It was enough to scare all of us horses to run. As we ran around, they created openings in the walls and then shook their sticks as if they were going to attack us, but it was just to scare us into running into new traps. They closed the walls behind us as soon as we were inside one. Our entire herd was split apart. Mother was with the other mares, the yearlings were kept together but away from their mothers, and the group of stallions, including Father and me, were put in one trap together.
It was terrifying at first. I had never been away from Mother for this long. While I couldn’t see her anymore, I knew she was around because I could still smell her. Any time that I became sad, all I had to do was take in a deep, deep breath and catch Mother’s scent. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had during those first few days. Her scent comforted me. I knew Mother was nearby.
After that, life became a blur. I was shifted from trap to trap, eventually separated from Father and then losing the scent of both Mother and Father. I was all alone for the first time in my life. With no one I knew around, I started watching the humans. They communicated in a language I had never heard before. To me they sounded like birds squawking as they circled the traps we were in and gestured to one another with noises and movements.
I studied their strange language and gestures in an attempt to learn and figure out these new predators as best I could. It was only after listening and watching for a while that I was able to learn the basics of their language. With careful study, I quickly understood human language almost as well as the speech of other animals.
Then came a day I won’t soon forget. As the sun rose one morning, I noticed all of the humans were running around like ants whose mound had been disturbed. They were much more energetic than usual. They stood in small groups and gestured wildly towards the enclosures where all of us horses were kept. One group of humans started moving over toward the stallions, carrying their sticks with the loud, white things at the ends. As they came clo
ser, they started moving their sticks to get the noise started. This, of course, got me and every horse moving as far away from them as we could. That noise was awful!
We stirred around in the tight space, shifting to one side only to see a human with his noisemaker approaching, which made us shift back to the other side. They kept moving us around like that until one of the horses spotted an opening in the enclosure and headed for it. He escaped, and after seeing him escape, we all immediately ran out behind him. Freedom!
But no, it wasn’t an escape. It was another trap.
The humans had successfully herded us once more. This time we were wedged, one horse at a time, between two walls. My nose was pressed into the horse’s tail in front of me, just like the horse behind me had his nose in my tail. Tail to nose, and nose to tail. It wasn’t comfortable. We would inch forward ever so slowly and then stop, only to inch forward again. We were in line for what seemed like an eternity as we crept slowly toward the unknown. Panic and anxiety started to spread through us like wildfire. Finally, the tail in front of me was gone and - freedom! I saw freedom!
I leapt forward and then above all of the other sounds of the day, I heard a loud CLICK! My forward motion stopped immediately. My ribs and shoulders were squeezed tight on both sides. I tossed my head up to try to fling myself backward out of the trap but I couldn’t. I could barely lift or turn my head. I panicked.
“Easy, boy.” One of the humans said. I pushed myself frantically around, unable to move much in any direction.
“Calm down and it will all be over soon.”
I was outraged at being caught again but I realized fighting was useless. I could neither move nor wiggle my hindquarters. I couldn’t even twitch my skin to make the flies move. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere unless the humans allowed me.
Next, I felt their hands around my face. They opened my lips and grabbed my tongue! They moved my tongue from side to side. I thought it was going to rip free. Those humans smelled awful and their hands left the worst taste I had ever had in my mouth. Once they let my tongue go free, I tried to spit out their taste.
“This one’s about two.” I heard one say.
I had no idea what he was talking about and why he thought there were two of us in here. I was obviously the only horse in this tight enclosure.
“Yes, that’s right, he’s two,” another said.
But before I could figure out what they meant, something was stuck in between my lips and shot an unbelievably foul substance into my mouth. I tried spitting it out, but the human held my mouth closed until I had swallowed. The taste made me gag. And I had thought humans tasted bad!
“Alright, this one’s been de-wormed,” one of the humans said. “Hand me the vaccines.”
Worms? What was he talking about? Who has worms? I don’t have worms! And what are vaccines? What are they doing to me?
The human put his hand on my neck and immediately a wasp stung me. I wanted to move my head around to dislodge the wasp from my neck, but movement was a waste of time. Right away several more wasps got their stingers into my neck. Ouch! I couldn’t stop them, either. I never figured out what a vaccine was, but I won’t forget the swarm of wasps that attacked me that day.
It was after the stinging stopped I actually heard the wasps. All the buzzing, there must have been hundreds of them! I could feel them humming and buzzing down the crest of my neck. This time they kept their stingers to themselves. The humans wiped something on my neck in the exact same spot that was just buzzing and humming.
All of a sudden, that spot was freezing cold as if I were rolling in the snow. Fortunately, the sensation lasted only a few moments.
“Okay. He’s all done: de-wormed, vaccinated, and freeze branded.”
“What’s his ID number?”
“Number 02585761. All ready for the next one.”
The pressure on my ribs released and I could breathe freely again. I tested to see if I could move my neck up and my feet forward. I could! As soon as I found I could, I darted out of the chute and into the enclosure with my newest herd, hoping I was all done with humans.
Father was right: humans were fearsome predators.
CHAPTER 3 — ON THE MOVE
Humans. They stayed away. I began living a fairly uneventful life with my new herd, eating dried grass and drinking from small ponds until the days became long and warm again. One morning, though, before the sun was fully up, there were humans swarming all over the place. I sensed there was change in the air again; you could always smell it on the humans whenever things were about to change.
The humans started moving us around the way they always do and shaking their loud sticks. We moved! As soon as they had us over to one side of the pen, they shifted the barriers over to the other side. They created a narrow path that led to a large silver cave. Not a single one of us wanted to be the first horse down that path. Certainly not me! The mouth of the cave was huge and dark. There was no way of telling if mountain lions, coyotes, or any other creatures waited for us in there, ready to attack.
Since none of us would head for the cave, the humans surrounded us and herded us toward the walled path they had created, shaking those loud sticks the entire time. They closed in on us, leaving us no choice but to move onto their path. As soon as the last horse was in line, they closed the path behind us, leaving only one way to go: right into the cave. There was no way I was going to go in there. No! It was dark and scary. Even so, the horse behind me kept pushing me forward and ever closer to the unknown.
When I reached the front of the line, I had no choice but to step up and enter the cave. It wasn’t as dark as I had thought. There were openings in the walls that let the sun in and let the wind pass through. It was tight, though, with all of the other horses in there. We were pushed and shoved as each horse entered. Finally the last horse was inside. They closed the opening to the cave with a loud CLICK. That noise again! My heart sank. Every time I heard that sound, my life changed somehow. For the worse.
As I wondered about my life changing yet again, I felt the ground beneath my hooves start to move. We were moving! We were packed in so tightly that I had no fear of falling from the all twists and turns the cave took. I had horses holding me up on all sides. It felt as if the cave around us moved forever. When it became dark outside, we were still moving. When the sun rose the next morning we were still moving. I didn’t think we would ever stop, but we finally did.
“Alright boys, you’re here. Hutchinson Correctional Facility. Everybody off.”
The cave door opened. We saw nothing new, just another dry, sandy lot. The only way I knew we were in a different place was the air. It smelled different and had a charge which made me want to get away. Even the humans smelled different, they had a coarseness about them, that I had not encountered before. I didn’t like it.
Everywhere I looked, I saw either a horse or a human; there was nothing else to see. Some humans had those noisy sticks and started shaking them around to get us to start moving. As always, we moved. As we were darting about, I could hear the humans yell, “That’s the one,” or “I’ll take him.” Then the horse they had yelled about would be maneuvered until he was alone, then put into a separate pen, away from the main herd.
Then, close by, I heard, “I’ll take that one; the black one. He’s small and wiry, just like me.” At first I didn’t think it was possible they were talking about me. I may be many things, but I’m not small. They couldn’t be talking about me. But then the other horses started shifting away from me, so I knew it must be me. They moved me back and forth around the pen with their sticks until I wound up in a smaller area with a couple dozen other horses.
By sunset, all of the horses who had not been chosen were loaded back into the moving cave, and they left. Now, I found myself in a much smaller herd than when I had started the day. We were given a small pond to drink from and some dry grass to eat. Then the humans went away for the night. I was glad. I needed a rest and some time without
humans around.
I lifted my nose in the air and inhaled deeply. I didn’t catch a hint of Mother or Father’s scent. I had not seen or smelled them for a long time. I wondered where they were, if they were alright, and if Father had managed to free them. I shifted around to try getting comfortable and bumped into another horse with my rump. He nickered in response and sought comfort from our closeness. I did the same. I rubbed up next to him for the night, feeling his rough coat and thinking of my old herd.
The next day all the horses were separated. Our new pens were tiny: I couldn’t run more than five or six paces in any direction. The only way I could get a good run was to circle around the walls on the inside of my pen. Even then, I had to go around several times before my legs would begin to burn. I was given my own very small pond to drink from, but it was only big enough to put my nose in. I emptied it several times a day. I was also given my own pile of dry grass to eat. It was nice to have it all to myself, without having to defend my food or water from another horse, but on the other hand, I wasn’t able to get any extra food by chasing off another horse so I could enjoy theirs.
Before long, a human joined me. He was small, skinny, and smelled sour from sweat and fear. His eyes were wide as he looked at me, and his movements were quick and jerky. He was unlike the humans I had known before; they usually smelled like dirt and dried grass, and moved with slow confidence.
“Alright, Wade,” another human yelled to him from outside the pen. “Keep your head down and don’t look at him. Walk slowly toward the empty bucket. Good, good. Now, turn the bucket over and sit on it.”
So that’s what those little ponds are called: buckets!
The directions kept coming. “Keep your back to him. Slouch down a little. That’s it. Be friendly. Make yourself as non-threatening to him as you can. Remember, they are flight animals, and to them we are predators. Good! Now just sit there until he comes to you. I’ll come back later to check on your progress. Oh, and feel free to talk to him. He needs to get used to our voices.”
Kobi- Memoirs of a Mustang Page 2
