“What has you so spooked?” I asked, looking over the vast valley, my breath catching in my throat.
“No way,” I breathed out, not believing the sight only a few hundred metres in front of me.
There, just across a gully, was the big grey brumby and his mob. Quickly doing a headcount, I surmised there had to be at least forty other horses, all different colours and all gorgeous.
“Look at that Princess, isn’t he a magnificent beast?” Swinging one leg over, I hooked it over the pommel and sat back and stared in quiet reverence, just watching the brumbies grazing on the lush green wild grasses and the thick bush of gum trees behind them. This was what I loved about living on the land, seeing wild horses roam free without man interfering. The people who lived in the high country were divided on the subject of what should be done about the brumbies. One side insisted they be left alone to live their lives the way they always had for generations.
Wild and free.
The other side of the argument wanted to cull the mobs to more manageable numbers in order to reduce the damage they did to the futile land and grazing for the cattle and sheep.
I myself had a foot on either side of the fence. On one hand, I had seen first hand the destruction the horses created on the landscape, but I also saw their beauty and couldn’t bear the thought that someone would or could shoot such a beautiful animal. The debate had been going since I was a kid and well before I was ever thought of, and it would probably still be a topic well after my time on earth came to an end.
Thankfully the Triple H was an officially registered conserve for the wild horses of Cattle Ridge and surrounding districts due to the consideration and compassion for the brumbies by the Hott brothers.
Their generous natures, the way the triplets loved the land, and the place they were born and grew up, and their money meant Cattle Ridge and its people benefitted in many ways, the animals included.
The reach of the Hott family was vast and wide. I myself one of the lucky ones to fall into their embrace.
Living in Cattle Ridge, on the Triple H and getting to see the Great Dividing Range in my own backyard–my life was definitely magical. I loved the bush, the rugged beauty of the vast range, the snow-capped mountains in winter and the constant heat in summer. There was no better place on earth, in my opinion.
I don’t know what I would have done or ended up like if, when Dad passed away, I was made to leave this place. I didn’t have many relatives, not close ones I knew, what if Will and Lillian had turned me away? Put me in foster care, or worse, sent me to the city?
Closed in streets, buildings and smog … perish the thought!
Tossing my legs back over, I shoved my foot back into the stirrup and urged Princess into a walk. I wanted to get closer to the mob, this was as close as I had gotten to them without them bolting away. This time they weren’t going to shy off from me.
The grey was my target, the beast stood at least seventeen hands towering over the mares in his harem.
“Slow girl, take it nice and slow,” I whispered to Princess leaning over her neck. “Don’t scare them off. I want the big fella to see you and become entranced with your beauty.”
My plan was to get close enough that the grey would see my chestnut girl and find himself under her spell. Then he would follow us home, where I would yard him, and then I could start to earn his trust before breaking him in and finally riding him.
My own stallion and no one could keep me away from him.
Under me, I felt Princess tense, her hooves moved in a nervous jig with every step.
So close. We were so close, and the mob was still lazily grazing, not taking any notice of our intrusion. This close, I could make out the darker grey around the stallion’s eyes, the pretty dapple pattern over his crest and wither then all the way across his back. Dark greys and spotted blacks made up his colouring, but it was the dark charcoal that graced his mane and snout that set him apart from any horse I had ever seen. His mane didn’t look matted, it looked soft and silky, just like his nose. I itched to run my fingers over him, to feel his softness first hand.
I was so lost in my daydream, I didn’t notice my mount tremble under me until it was too late. Princess let out a loud whinny gaining the attention of the stallion. All of a sudden, the grey beast snorted loudly, his neck stretched out and his head high.
“Oh shit. Back up, girl, back up!” I shouted, pulling on the reigns trying to get Princess from listening to the stallion and to me instead.
Snorts and nickers came from the other animals, each one now on high alert and watching their leader for instruction. The grey stomped at the ground in front of him, each movement sending a shiver down my spine. He was not happy at my presence and if I didn’t come up with a plan quick smart shit was going to hit the fan.
Then behind me came a loud gunshot. The loud ringing blast echoing over the valley, the sound of beating hooves followed, then a voice I knew only too well shouted out.
“Blake!”
Not wanting to take my eyes off the stallion, I gripped my knees tight on either side of my horse’s flank, my heels digging in warning her that I meant business.
“Move chickee before we get trampled,” I warned in a low voice, aware that
