Читать книгу 9 Wild Horses - S Carol Johnson - Страница 3

So if this isn’t about me, where are the horses? you are probably asking. Okay. Let’s get acquainted with this herd of some of the most beautiful, powerful and opinionated creatures this land has ever seen.

It was a beautiful warm day in September of 2008 in the Okanogan Highlands in north central Washington State. The sun was shining and the sky was a beautiful blue with no clouds and no airplanes. This is the land I purchased and where I had been vacationing for quite some time. The altitude is 3286 feet and the mountains rose up all around me. There was a tree covered bank behind the house that led down to the creek and an open field that spread out in front of the house to the west. In spring the mountains would be snow capped and the fields and hills a beautiful grassy green, but by fall the snow was all gone and the fields were a golden brown – some because of lack of rain and some from plants having ripened and gone to seed. For the first several years I visited this place, I would hear about 3 cars a day out on the county and private roads. Needless to say, this was a very rural area. Neighbors were not just next door, but down the road and around the corner and over the hill. My dog could bark up here all he wanted to bark and there was no one to complain!!!

On this particular day in the middle of September, I was outside enjoying a cool breeze with my dog, a Tibetan Mastiff named Chewy, when I heard the thunder of what sounded like hoof beats. Is that possible? I didn’t see anything, but I could hear them and they were moving fast. The immediate order was to put the dog in the house – NOW!! I was hoping I had time…. My dog, Chewy, was a very large dog and definitely a predator to his core, but he was completely un-savvy about other creatures. Because I didn’t hesitate, I did get him in the house. Quickly I dashed back outside. I could tell there was a rhythm to the sound. It sounded so powerful. I could hear individual hooves hitting the ground and I could hear all of them hitting the ground at once. I listened so intently -- I was mesmerized. This was absolutely not the way the range cows sound when they run. It had to be horses. However, I had not ever seen any horses up here, and I had never heard such a noise except on television. So how could it be horses?

I realized the sound was getting closer and closer. It sounded like they were headed my way, but why would that be? I was watching in the direction of the sound when up over the ridge to the south of the house came 7 horses on a dead run – all adult horses, no yearlings or babies. They were so fast it was almost scary. As they got closer the sound of the hooves became thunderous. Their tails and manes were flying as they moved in the great long strides of an animal that size. Their legs were lifting high with each forward movement. They were huge, they were browns, blacks, grays and white and they were oh so beautiful. I was, indeed, totally mesmerized and not just a little bit scared. They were absolutely stunning and absolutely out of place. And I knew I needed to get out of the way fast. Quickly I went up on the front porch deck to the house – do horses climb stairs? – I hoped not.

As they came running in they headed straight for the barn that was being built and came to an abrupt halt. They dug their feet in and dust went flying – billowing up in huge clouds all around them. Several of them were snorting and blowing and digging at the ground with their hooves. Now what? Why were they here? What did they need or want? Who did they belong to? Were they wild? I didn’t speak horse. I just stood there, looking at them and they were looking at me – pleadingly – but for what? What did they want and why this place – mostly there was no one here?

Somehow I shook myself out of my mesmerized state and I remembered that the creek had gone dry and water was probably at a premium. Is it possible they wanted water? All I had available were 2 four gallon blue buckets and a short hose (remember I only visited here on vacation). How do you water 7 horses with 2 buckets? The water lines to the barn had been put in and the hydrants were working. Would the horses hurt me – either intentionally or accidently -- if I tried to give them water? There was a quick battle between my intelligent self (that said to stay away from large flight animals you don’t know) and the emotional self (that said if these magnificent creatures are thirsty, they need water). As is usually the case, my intelligent self didn’t stand a chance – I was going to get them some water somehow. I slowly came down off the steps and started after the blue buckets, which were on the opposite side of the house from the horses. To my amazement the horses stayed where they were by the barn. Whew. That’s good.

I hurried around the corner of the house away from the horses and out of their sight and grabbed the buckets from the back of the house. With a bucket in each hand I came back around front. Almost as if on cue, the horses’ heads all turned my way at once. They saw the buckets and started making a low pitched guttural sound, almost under your breath, sort of noise. That was scary (remember, I didn’t speak horse but I have since learned that noise is called a nicker) but I suspected that meant I was on the right track. They were definitely thirsty and they knew what a bucket was. So this must mean that the horses belong to someone – wild horses wouldn’t know what a bucket is, right?

I very slowly walked toward the barn, the hydrant and the horses – and talking to them every step of the way. What do you say to an unfamiliar herd of horses? I had no idea so I just made stuff up and hoped the tone of my voice was enough to reassure them that I meant them no harm. With each step I was starting to realize the horses didn’t act like they would intentionally hurt me, but it was now obvious it was water they were after and they were ready for it now. They were dancing around each other just like a human 3 year old dances when he has to use the restroom.

I put the buckets down a little ways apart and away from the hydrant but just close enough so the short hose could reach them. The horses were gathering around me dancing and making that low sound and some were sticking their noses in the empty buckets, then lifting up their heads at me and back in the buckets. I had no idea if they were going to trample me, but I was realizing it would be accidental if they did – they were serious about this water thing. These animals are huge and anxious so I needed to get water in the buckets immediately if not sooner!!! I was so focused on getting water in the buckets without getting hurt that I didn’t even pay attention to the individual horses – I just saw them as feet moving all around me and was constantly aware of how big each one of these horses was. Trying to keep calm, I filled up the buckets. I could tell there was definitely some sort of pecking order in the herd. Certain members of the herd got to drink first. When each of them was done drinking and had moved away from their chosen bucket another horse would quickly take that bucket. It was, again, scary watching all the horse legs around my head, but it was actually pretty orderly. I filled up those two buckets (4 gallons each) ten times!!! Those 7 horses drank 80 gallons of water before each of them got something/enough to drink!!

And then, as if by some silent marker, they were gone. They all at once swirled around and just took off running to the north. They must communicate by ESP or some such thing because it was a fluid motion and I was really glad I wasn’t in their way. They were not running hard like they had been when they came in. Maybe I should call it trotting. Their tails and manes weren’t flying. But they were covering ground quickly. They disappeared down over the bank toward where the creek is – even though there wasn’t any water in it – because after they crossed the dry creek bed that was the direction toward the woods and the hills.

I was left standing there wondering what in the world just happened. Was that real? Did I dream it? I mean, I knew it was real, but I had nothing to show for it except my memories. Did I really just water a herd of horses? WOW!!! Then it dawned on me again that they had known what a bucket was and maybe knew that buckets and barns go together. It probably meant they belonged to someone who was missing them. So I thought I’d better be a good neighbor and start making some calls to find out where they belonged and to report to their owners that I had seen them and given them water.

I didn’t know many of the neighbors, so I called the one neighbor that I did know (the realtor who only lived 5 miles away by road) to find out who to call. I explained what had happened and he gave me some names and I started finding the phone numbers to go with those names. I had a list of 4 names. I found the numbers and started calling. Not one of the 4 was missing any horses. One even went out to his barn yard to check and came back to tell me he had all his horses. That same person told me it was possible they were some of the wild horses that were up here. I explained that they knew what a bucket was and he said that makes sense, because the wild horses had once belonged to someone who had turned them out.

Technically that makes them feral horses, but in my head ‘wild’ means ‘not tame.’ The whole conversation about ‘wild’ vs. ‘feral’ overshadows the whole story about wild horses. ‘Turned them out’ struck a cord with me and I was upset for days that folks would do that to horses. I started reading information about wild horses on the internet and one thing I learned is that the horse is the most abused animal in the country. How could that be? Worse than dogs and cats? I knew how bad the abuse of dogs and cats was so to be worse than that is a true horror.

Running in the snow