MUSTANG

MUSTANG

A new day is born over the vast western plains, where the hot dry wind blows, and the creatures long for the far-off rain. The wild black mustang lifts his head from his slumber, snorts out great bursts of steam with colors from the rising Sun. Even before he thinks of eating, his eyes scan the Mesa, for a new Queen.

He leads his herd, but he is very wary, the young males cower, a wrong look, or motion, can cause him to sour, and his charge is very scary! His neighing stirs the herd, it is the leader’s word heard, behind him they trot, where he will lead them, they know not.
Into a great canyon they flow, the great rocks close in, the way becomes narrow and thin, suddenly there is much fear within.
The scent of man fills their nostrils, what they hear in their ear, brings a scare. A Cowboy seals their fate with a small wooden gate, they try to escape, but it’s too late.

Now found in large field within high fences they find themselves sealed. One, by one, a rough rider breaks them, soon they become tame, some shot when they become lame. Sold to farmers, cattlemen, rodeos, and who knows.
But the black mustang cannot be broken in, or ridden, he kicks, bites, they beat him with sticks. One day a man with a reddish complexion appeared on the land, at first, they though that he was looking for work as a farmhand, but he replied; no, my Tribe and I own much of this very land.

To our shock, he wanted to buy a horse from our stock, when shown a beautiful brown gelding, he was mad and said; only that black mustang will make my heart glad. We laughed, thinking; that horse will throw that old goat into the moat!

He bought that wild mustang stud, when we brought the horse to him, something strange happened, the horse put his head next to his. There was a low *chant, we thought it was just an old Coot’s rant. He caressed the soft mouth of the mustang, and, did not get a bite, we were in awe at that sight. He mounted the mustang with ease, they were like two joined spirits as they rode off into the plains and the setting Sun, it was like they and the earth were one.

Through research, I discovered that the wild horses were descendants of Arabic and Spanish horses, and of course, ridden by the American Indians who suffered much loss of their land.

*I believe that, Today, there are “Horsewhisphers”.

Author Ken
June 16, 2018
P.S. My Uncle was an American Indian, and I owned a horse.