Ecole Senator Riley School

Everyone is afraid sometime in their life. I was afraid that rainy, thundering night in which I was born. Instead of seeing light, I saw dark. Instead of hearing the sweet sounds of nature, I heard my mother’s high pitch neigh, and a sound of tame thunder put into a small space. Instead of feeling joy and the sunlight on my skin, I felt my mother’s blood pour on to me. I felt something dragging me by the legs. Then all was dark.

I remembered it clearly this sunny, but windy fall day. As I lay in my stall thinking about what happened four years ago, something got my attention; the barnyard door had opened and I heard a human say,“Welcome ladies and gentlemen, to the Horse Jumping Final”.

I knew what that meant; a human had to ride on my back while I had to wear those painful reins on me and jump over those stupid poles like I always do. But I had to. Then the same human with the loud, jumpy voice said again,“Now our last two contestants Lily and Baracoude With their riders; Marc and Nancy”.

After those words, I slowly got to my feet as my stall door opened.
I was saddled up, I was lead to the silver doors of the very clean barnyard. As the doors opened, a tall black horse with beady eyes rode up next to me. I was tiny compared to him. The horse, who I thought to be Baracoude, had bulging muscles and looked 16 hands high!

“The small one here Lily,” began the man with the loud voice again, “we caught in the wild when she was born.” At the word “wild” I reined up neighing excitedly. “I knew it! I knew I was wild”, I thought joyfully and before my rider could even lay a hand on me, I galloped away. I jumped over all the posts in my path and even though I was coming onto a tall fence I could never jump over, I had no fear. I was wild!

I broke through the fence with no problem. But I realized I had an even bigger problem, the humans were screaming behind me and I heard their transportation creatures running. Fear overcame me and I ran harder than I’ve ever ran before. Far away I galloped, hardly ever stopping. For whenever I stopped to have a drink or eat, I only had 5 minutes before the sound of human voices and vehicles rang out into the cold air. I continued my journey until the hair in my mane was covered with clinging icicles.

I was deep in the forest now. Fall had passed into an ice cold snowy winter. I’d gotten used to the habitat and I loved jumping through the snow but I was bored this day so I decided to go exploring.

I trotted along for awhile until I reached a clearing. I stopped dead in my tracks. I smelled danger in all corners of the bone chilling air. On my left, a rotting, unnatural smell created by humans. To my right a sharp stench of an unknown predator. Behind me, I smelt salty human food that I could hear being chewed loudly.

I was frozen in place. The sun was already setting creating a dark yellow haze in between the clouds. Without turning my head, I looked as far as I could see in every direction but only saw the dark shadows of the trees and the trees themselves.

A few meters away from me, I spied a shiny, clear, solid patch of earth that caused me to look with horrific fear. Suddenly, I heard a twig crack and from the corner of my eye I saw a metal tube followed by a hand. Once again I heard the sound of food being chewed.

I knew I was in terrible danger and that I’d have to get out of there quick but the only place that seemed reasonable to go to was across the clear, solid patch of earth. I knew the creature behind me was a human called a hunter. One of the horses in my barn long ago told me about a hunter and how they killed animals. The horse also told me that a hunter probably killed my mom then dragged me off to sell to some rich farm owner like the one we had.

Something moved in the bush to my right. I only had a moment to think, when a fierce wolf sprang up out of nowhere and lunged at me. I nearly missed his jaws as I leapt over him. Next thing I knew, the hunter shot his weapon at me. But instead of the small metal thing hitting me, it hit the wolf! As all of this happened, the humans that I thought I had out run, came ripping out of the woods carrying nets and shouting, “There she is!”. I was shaking all over. I needed to get out of there!

I had no choice. In a hurry I scattered across the clear, slippery surface while I heard loud cracks creeping up behind me. I was just in time. The transportation creature and the humans had followed me onto the clear, solid earth which gave way, and swallowed them up within a second.

I lunged off the surface and again I galloped. But this time I didn’t have to run as long. I had stumbled onto something I wanted to see all my life; a pack of wild horses! I found a horse that smelled reasonably familiar. Then I realized, it was my long lost father! I rushed up to him and rubbed his smooth, soft mane. He let me into the herd instantly. Then I realized something; I was home!

The sky was a pink-orange colour with a glow of the sun on the horizon. The shadows of the trees stretched out far across the fresh blanket of snow. Off in the distance a herd of horses were grazing on what was left of the beautiful green summer grass of the Ghost forest. The night before had been rough for the herd, a fierce wind storm had blown through the valley followed by a blizzard.

After the blizzard, the herd ventured out to see a gentle snow fall. The lead mare came out first with her new born foal. The last of the herd to come out was the stallion. The pure white stallion, with a golden mane was a bold leader and would protect his herd at all costs. The lead mare was almost horse with a white mane adn had a foal that was pitch black with white socks and a caramel blaze down its nose. The foal’s brother was older and had been kicked out of the herd. He was smoke grey and had the appearance of a ghost.

Suddenly the mare lifted her head and sniffed the air. She smelled a horrid and frightening smell. The foal was too busy to notice the stallion signaling to the herd to move into the safety of the trees and so the mare suddenly nudged the foal to move.

A few minutes later three quads pulled out of the trees. Looking back into the trees, one of the boys yelled, “Hurry up Alec we have to get home for supper”. A fourth quad pulled out of the trees. Alec was an ordinary boy like any other. He didn’t like school but he loved the weekends that he spent with his grandpa and his three obnoxious brothers. He was the youngest of the four being eleven years old but was the only one that seemed to be able to make friends with his grandpa’s horses.

The four quads pulled into the driveway. As usual Alec was the last one and as he turned off his machine, his attention was caught by a rustling from the bushes. He looked over and could fainlty see a dark figure standing there. “Alec come on in,” called his grandma. The shadow ran off into the woods.

The next morning Alec woke quickly and raced out to his quad. He set out in the direction of the familiar trail that he had always taken only this time he noticed a new path and decided to take it. A moment later he came to a sheer cliff. Not wanting to crash over the edge of the cliff, Alec slammed his quad in reverse. Immediately hearing a gurgling sound from behind him, he quickly realized that his quad was slowly sinking in the creek. He jumped off and hit the ground with a thud. Gatherin himself together he started to stand up when a cougar pounced out of the trees and landed about a meter away. He froze with panic! He couldn’t out run a cougar and his quad was stuck in the creek. He screamed for help!

As soon as he screamed, a swift shadow roared out of the trees and sent the cougar off into the bushes. After Alec’s vision straightened, he saw a ghost-like horse. The face and mane of this horse was all scared up with brutal ugliness. Somewhere his mind was telling him that this was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The horse slowly walked over to him and lowered its head almost as if he was inviting Alec to climb on but he knew that this was a wild horse and that it was illegal to be seen making any contact with them. So he decided to take a big risk and talk to his grandpa about helping this ghost-like horse.

Alec tried to explain to his grandpa but his grandpa said no and that horse is wild and free and shall remain wild and free.

“When I was just a boy, these wild creatures were considered scared spirits and although some became our most important way to travel we weren’t allowed to ride the sacred wild horse.

“Yes but grandpa you should have seen the way it looked when I found it. It was all beaten up. I have to do something, not just leave it!” pleaded Alec. All he could think about was the horse.

A week later, Alec went out quading and decided to take his regular path through the forest as far away from the cliff as possible but still on the look out for the ghost-like stallion. Where had he gone? What had happened to him?

He heard a distant frantic whinnying. He stopped and listened. The terrifying sound was coming from a deeper part of the forest a place he had never explored before. He slowly approached the sound and peeked through the trees. The ghost-like horse was trapped. He was in a rage kicking and kicking at the fence of the culling trap. Alec stopped and stared. The stallion paused and stared back. Alec knew that the stallion was in trouble and decided he needed to help. He quickly grabbed his rope, hooked one end to his quad and the other to the fence and slammed his quad in reverse pushing his quad to the limit. quickly the fence tumbled to the ground.

The stallion paused as if to say thankyou and then raced off into the deeper part of the forest.

Over the years Alec continued to ride out and release horses from the culling trap. On one trip he took across the frozen lake in the distance he thought he sighted the smoke grey stallion with a black mare with a carmel blaze and white socks protecting and a grey foal and with a new born colt…

Sound familiar?

One day a brown and white paint walked into the forest alone. The rest of the herd knew that the time had come. This was the herd’s lead mare that was going to have a foal. She had been carrying it for 340 days. Three days later she returned with a slim and very curious dark brown foal with knee high black stockings. She could already walk with a little stumble in her step and loved the bright colors of the yellow and white daisies, the lush green grass, and the tiny red and black lady bugs. Her father welcomed them back to the herd. He proudly watched over all of them as she was the newest member of the herd. Summer came quickly and with that came thunderstorms.

One day the herd was grazing in a meadow of wild flowers when suddenly there was a big flash of lightning and the booming sound of thunder. The foal didn’t know what it was, so she ran under a tree and looked around the meadow. Where was her mother? She finally found her and followed the herd. The herd had no time to choose a safe hideaway and their only choice was to cross the deep part of the river to safety. The foal struggled getting across but made it. Once across the river, they all had to rest. It had rained all night and by the next morning, the river was high and flowing quickly. There was no way the foal was going to cross it again, so they headed on into the forest so the cougars would not find them.

A few weeks later you could tell it was Fall. Winter coats on the horses had arrived and the leaves had turned shades of red, yellow and orange, which crackled under their hooves. The first big snow storm came late November. It was hard for the foal to dig up snow to get the dry grass for food. As the herd moved across the frozen river they could hear the wolves howling in the distance. If the wolves followed them onto the ice it would be disastrous for the horses. The ice was thin and if they tried to kick and land this might cause the ice to break beneath their hooves. The foal was at the rear of the herd when the wolves ran onto the ice. The entire herd ran ahead but the foal couldn’t because the ice was slippery under her hooves. She whinnied for her father. Just as a wolf jumped for his meal, the ice broke under her.

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“Don’t throw snowballs” Mr. Byrne yelled at Alex, Taylor, and Emma. The girls were all BFF [ best friends forever ] and spent all their time together. Alex lived on a huge ranch with more than three hundred horses. There were so many they had lost count. Emma and Taylor lived in the nearest small town Sundre which is where they all went to school. Alex loved to ride and that’s how she met Emma and Taylor. For the past two years, every Wednesday and Friday after school, they had been taking riding lessons together. Alex loved all of her horses.

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The silky black stallion was galloping frantically along the river’s edge trying to rescue his foal from the cold freezing water of the river. The wolves paid no attention to the horses because they were freezing cold having fallen through the crack in the ice into the river. The young foal finally caught her hooves on a shallow area in the river and as she slowly climbed out of the river, the rest of the herd came running over. The foal was dripping with water and shivering from the -30 wind as icicles started to form on her rustic brown coat. Her mother walked slowly beside her as they went into the trees. The stallion kept watch in case any more wolves appeared. This was a long winter. It lasted all the way until late March.

When spring finally came, the herd galloped into a meadow where lush green grass was popping through the snow. As night fall came, the herd disappeared into the trees,not knowing Alex’s farm was on the other side of the forest.

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“Brring”. As the bell rang, Alex ran outside as fast as she could so she could wait for the bus. Finally, they were out for Easter break. Just as Alex got outside, the bus pulled up, she waved her last goodbyes to her friends and hopped onto the bus. As soon as she got home, she ran in the house, she told her mother she was going riding, grabbed a snack and went to saddle up her favourite horse Maple. When she opened the big old barn doors she breathed in the air with the lingering smell of poop, hay, and horses. Alex saddled up her horse and rode off into the trees behind her home.

About half hour into the ride, Maple started to buck and kick. Alex pulled on the reins to get her to calm down. When she finally got her to stop, there in front of them was the wild herd. The large black stallion came from the back of the herd and nudged the herd to move on into some more trees. While they cantered, Alex saw the brown foal peeking out from behind her mother. She galloped back to the house as fast as she could to tell her parents.

“MOM, DAD! COME QUICK!” Alex yelled. Her parents came running out of the barn. Alex told them about the wild herd and they got on their horses and followed her. Once they found the hoof prints, they led them to see the wild herd grazing in a meadow full bloom with pink, purple, yellow, green, blue, white, and orange flowers everywhere. The black stallion reared and the rest of the herd looked up and whinnied back. As the herd started to vanish into the trees, the foal looked up at them and then looked at her mother then followed. Alex never saw the foal again.

The sun peeked over the mountain ahead of Kyla shining through her chocolate brown hair. The ground was covered in frost with bright colorful leaves sprinkled round about as the faint smell of the fall leaves reminded all of the animals to prepare for winter. It was always the best riding when she could just be alone with Kado, her horse, and the environment.

Kado nickered as they reached the top of the mountain. There was a chilling breeze that sent shivers down her spine. She dismounted and tied Kado to a tree and walked over the head of the mountain she called her own. All she could say was “WOW!” She took a closer look as there was something that was different from other days. What had her horse had nickered at?

“Amazing!” she softly whispered. The early morning sun’s rays danced on the stallion and warmed him as he closed his eyes. He stood on a rock ledge feeling proud of finding the three mares for his herd that summer. She took a closer look and thought a bit. She remembered that her Grampa had talked about a stallion named Thunderbolt and herds of wild horses running free but he said there were no more. Could he be wrong? Were these the wild horses that Grampa spoke about?

There weren’t enough words you could say to describe the lead stallion’s beauty. He had knee high stockings with shimmering chocolate brown coat and a rich black mane and tail. Suddenly the lead mare’s muscles tightened. Her ears straightened and stretched back. It seemed she too could smell the approaching of winter and danger. As she nudged the herd to the end of the meadow it happened. One moment it was a beautiful day and then everything turned upside down. “NO!!” screamed Kyla. A cougar pounced on the mare’s neck ripping a huge tear. As the cougar tried to dig its fangs and claws into the mare, the lead stallion reared kicking a crushing blow to the cougar’s skull leaving it to die a painful death. Thunderbolt she thought.

The next spring Kyla when came back there were two more mares and three foals. She knew that they would forever be free in Thunderbolt’s herd.

It was a nice foggy day perfect for fishing and that’s exactly where Will was in his secret spot. He hadn’t been there long and he had already caught five fish.

Will was very good at fishing. Right then a huge mustang emerged out of the fog and started to drink from the water. He was a light brown color with a cream blaze and black mane and tail. Will slowly grabbed his fishing pole and bait and started to crawl away from the mustang. Will decided to call him Spirit after his favorite movie.

The next day he went back to his secret spot in hope of seeing the powerful mustang. After about half an hour of solid fishing, he heard a blood curdleing whinny so he crept up to the bushes and looked over them. There he saw a foal stuck in the mud and Spirit trying to help get him out. Will didn’t know what to do, at first he just sat there praying that nothing would happen to the little foal.

Suddenly he got a chill down his neck, when he saw the horses’ ears tilt back. At that moment he heard the howl of a wolf. Now Will was really scared. He didn’t know what to do, so he pulled his rifle off his back as he watched the brilliant stallion run to go protect the rest of the herd. Will looked out now to see the wolves were closing in and he carefully pointed his gun near the two wolves while keeping an eye on the foal.

Just then he shot! He was so nervous he missed, but it caused a distraction. The wolves were still coming but slower now. The little foal was still sinking. Will quickly grabbed his rope, he turned it into a lasso and threw it around the horse’s neck which was now almost covered in mud. The wolf charged. Quickly he reached for his rifle and shot again this time he did not miss his target. One down one more to go he thought to himself. He started to pull the 70 pounds of foal. It slowly came out of the mud but not fast enough for the last wolf was ready to strike.

The wolf jumped at the baby foal and right when he was about to claw, being afraid that he might accidentally shoot the foal, Will nervously clipped him with the butt end of his gun . He hit his back paws causing the wolf to tumble over and over. When the wolf stopped tumbling, he screeched and sprinted away with his tail in between his legs.

Will nervously giggled with a sigh of relief, then he quickly finished pulling the foal out of the mud. “This will be a story to tell,” he said to himself as he sat down and started to fish.

Wonderful wild horses are being slaughtered;
In their suffering, their killers’ emotions have not been stirred.
Horses appear in many stirring native legends and myths;
Long ago they boldly rode to the edge of many a cliff.
In one tale about the UpperKananaskisLake,
Three horses of different shades tell what the day, month, or year will make.
Palomino for good, black for bad, and bay for in between,
But this prophecy can not always be seen.

In fact, the horses were so sacred to the First Nations
That they did not mount them until the European invasion.
But when the outlanders rode so proudly as the two cultures met,
The First Nations knew that they, too, should race their steeds into the sunset.
Reader, if you have listened, then you know it to be true,
The horses mean as much to the natives as me or you.
You also realize the goal we must achieve:
We must stop the mindless murders… do you believe?