AN ALARM--THE WILD-HORSES--AN EQUINE COMBAT--THE WILD
STALLION VICTORIOUS--THE STRUGGLE RENEWED--RETREAT OF
THE WILD HORSES.
One evening, after dinner, we were all sitting round the camp-fire,
discussing coffee, when I'Aria, who had gone to have a last look at
the horses before turning in, came running back, and announced that he
could see the Indians coming down the valley in great numbers. We
immediately jumped up and hurried out to inspect the new arrivals, not
a little annoyed at the prospect of our privacy being intruded upon by
these unwelcome guests.
Looking up the valley, we saw a dark mass moving slowly towards us.
Presently it came nearer, and Gregorio, looking at it closely for a
moment, said excitedly, "That's not the Indians, but a herd of wild
horses; we had better look out for our own!" An extraordinary
commotion was indeed visible among our animals. They were running to
and fro, evidently in a state of great perturbation, now collecting
together in a knot, now dispersing at a gallop over the valley,
neighing and whinnying shrilly.
As Gregorio spoke, one of the wild horses detached itself from the
main troop and galloped at full speed towards our horses. "Quick!
quick! your rifles, or we shall lose our tropilla," shouted Gregorio,
in evident alarm; and though we did not quite understand the full
extent of our danger, we ran for our rifles, and started off as quick
as we could, to get between the wild horses and our own, Gregorio
explaining as we ran along, that the wild stallion, if we did not stop
him, would drive off our troop, and leave us in the most perilous
plight. Of course nothing more was needed to urge us on to our utmost
speed, to avert the threatening danger. But the stallion flew like the
wind towards our horses, who were now all huddled together in a corner
of the valley, and we could scarcely hope to be in time to save them.
Suddenly he staggered and fell; he had got into a bog. In the few
seconds he lost in extricating himself we had time to get within
range. Bang! bang! bang! went our rifles, but unscathed he sped on,
and was soon within twenty yards of our terrified animals, and far in
front of us. "We are lost!" cried the guides simultaneously; and
filled with dismay, we all stood still, perfectly paralysed at the
thought of the position we should be in without horses, three hundred
miles away from Sandy Point.
But at this moment Gregorio's big bay stallion, the master of the
troop, rushed out to meet the enemy, both halting when they met, and
fronting one another. Thankful for this diversion in our favour, we
again ran forward, in hopes of being able to get up before Gregorio's
stallion should have been compelled to fly, as the superior size of
his adversary left no doubt he would ultimately have to do. In the
meantime the two animals, after pawing the air for a second or two,
made a dash at one another, and engaged in a fierce combat, carried on
chiefly with their teeth, though occasionally they would rise on their
hind legs and fight with their fore feet. Our horses, not daring to
stir, watched them on one side, and the wild herd, which had meanwhile
trotted up close to the field of battle, looked on from the other
side, apparently deeply interested in the issue of the struggle.
We hurried along as quick as we could, though, unfortunately, we could
make but slow progress, encumbered as we were with our rifles, and
retarded by the long grass. Meanwhile--another misfortune--we
discovered that beyond three bullets my husband happened to have had
in his pocket when we started, and which we had fired off in the first
volley, no one had brought any ammunition, this essential having been
overlooked in the hurry and excitement of the moment. Hoping we should
be able to cope with the stallion, should we get up in time, with our
revolvers, we pressed on, our eyes fixed on the two combatants, the
endurance of our champion being now our only chance. He was evidently
already worsted, and any second might turn tail and fly. Still he
fought on, and still we drew nearer and nearer.
Suddenly my brother, who was a little in front of us, seemed to fall.
Running to him we found him up to the waist in a bog, which stretched
up the valley between us and the horses. It was impossible to cross
it; indeed, we had some difficulty in pulling him out. We had to run a
good distance before we could get on to firmer ground; and in the
meantime the battle went against our stallion, who suddenly turned
tail and fled. After giving him a parting kick, the wild horse rushed
at our troop, and began to drive them at a gallop towards his own,
punishing with vicious bites and kicks any animal that showed signs
of becoming refractory, or that did not go quick enough. The moment
was critical. We strained every nerve to get between the two troops,
as, if they once joined, our chances were hopeless. But for another
unexpected diversion in our favour, our efforts would have been
defeated. This diversion was the sudden reappearance on the scene of
our stallion, who, at the sight of his retreating wives, had evidently
once more screwed up his courage to the fighting point.
The combat that now ensued was fiercer even than the last one.
Profiting by it, we got up to our horses, who had stood still again,
and hurriedly drove them in front of us towards our camp. We had gone
some distance when the wild stallion, having again proved victor, came
swooping after us, neighing proudly, and evidently meaning mischief.
We began to shout and wave our hands as he approached, in the hopes of
driving him off. When within forty yards of us, he stopped, but
continued to circle round us, stamping and pawing, and neighing
angrily. Our object was to drive the horses up to the camp and get to
our rifle ammunition, it being evident that the only way to relieve
ourselves of this troublesome Don Juan was by despatching him
altogether. We soon got near to the camp, and shouted to I'Aria to
bring us some bullets. At the report of the first shot the stallion
fled in dismay, and with such rapidity that the two or three bangs we
had at him missed their mark. He made straight for his own troop, who,
during the whole performance, had stood in watchful expectation. The
moment he reached them they all started off at a gallop, and, in the
twinkling of an eye, swept up the steep escarpment on the far side of
the valley and disappeared. Our horses were so frightened and
bewildered by the day's events, that they seemed to have little desire
to graze, but stood quite quiet together for upwards of an hour near
the camp. We were in some apprehension lest the stallion should return
in the night, but Gregorio said that he thought there was no danger of
such an occurrence taking place, and we accordingly turned in and went
to sleep, and were glad to see our troop grazing tranquilly next
morning as usual.