The Hills were Alive...

Mustang Diaries Archive on October 31, 2009, 3:20

It was dusk, 5:30ish, and I was out feeding horses. Evita, a mare who's been here for gentling, had the halter slipped over one ear again. Undoubtedly it'll be off by morning, I thought, so I tried to get close. No success. She's an elusive thing who'd prefer I fell into a hole. A very deep hole.

While out there with her, a chunk of alfalfa in one hand and my trusty pole in the other, I heard something from up in the hills. I glanced up as Vita trotted past. Was that a voice? I wasn't sure, and turned back to the mare.

It wasn't more than a half minute when I heard