Brumbies

By Paula Boer

When city girl Louise moves to the country, she discovers the mountain brumbies are to be killed for pet food. She and Ben, a local farm boy, determine to save as many of the wild horses as they can. Despite opposition, they arrange a muster, but nothing goes according to plan. This horse-packed adventure encounters challenges through some of the toughest territory in Australia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: IFWG Publishing International
• Release date: Jul 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781925759297

Paula Boer

Paula Boer has been a horse-lover since she learned to ride at age nine. She competed in many equestrian disciplines including endurance, eventing and show jumping as well as working on remote outback cattle stations. Forced to give up riding due to ill health, Paula turned her passion to writing. Many of the adventures experienced by Paula's characters come from her own experiences. Paula is a regular contributor of articles to magazines and blogs on horse management and her life with horses as well as the author of the Amazon-best-selling Brumbies series. Paula's love of nature is also expressed in her other publications including The Okapi Promise (adult travel adventure), Impounded (a tale of a barramundi fish), Of Emus and Seahorses (an anthology of stories from the perspective of a few of Australia’s strange and wonderful animals), plus many short stories published by Indigo Dreams Press (UK).

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Books in this Series

Brumbies

Brumbies in the Snow

Brumbies in the Mist

Brumbies in the Outback

Brumbies in the Mountains

Book 1 of

the Brumbies Series

Brumbies

by

Paula Boer

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters portrayed herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places, events or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not necessarily represent the opinions of the publisher.

Brumbies

Book 1 of the Brumbies Series

All Rights Reserved

ISBN-13: 978-1-925759-29-7

Copyright ©2018 Paula Boer

All maps in this book were designed by

Paula Boer and rendered by Rowena Evans

Second Edition

This ebook may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

IFWG Publishing International

Melbourne

www.ifwgpublishing.com

For Zoe, and other horse lovers everywhere

A glossary of horse-related terms

can be found at page 137

Chapter 1

The rumbling grew louder. A startled magpie flashed in front of Louise’s face. The sun dappled warm and cool onto her bare arms as the branches shook. Her Appaloosa pricked up his ears. His coat shivered beneath a sheen of sweat, his black mane lay tangled and damp.

Louise dropped her weight in the saddle to ask him to slow and placed her hand on his warm neck. She peered along the track in front of her at the cleared grasslands visible through the edge of the forest.

The thundering became recognisable as hoof beats. Horses going fast. Many horses. And not the local trail riding group. Louise knew they wouldn’t come up here on New Year’s Eve.

Ben held the reins of his part-Arabian chestnut mare in one hand as he pointed with the other. Brumbies! Cool! Let’s get closer.

The friends urged their horses forward, keeping them in check as the wild herd stampeded past. The working horses danced in a jog towards the clearing as the front runners of the brumby mob reached the end of the track. Louise could see the pink lining of a small, stocky mare’s nostrils as she raced past.

Spray flew as the mare tossed her head with a snort. Her flaxen mane and tail billowed. Dust plumes drifted behind her as she pounded over the dry ground. Close behind, a mob of twenty or so wild horses galloped, coats gleaming from exertion. Mares with foals at foot and long-limbed youngsters ran in the middle of the throng with older dry mares at the back. Greys, bays, chestnuts—the colours flashed by in rippling horseflesh, sides heaving with every breath.

Several hundred metres behind, a grey stallion snaked his head at a few stragglers. His strength was apparent in his glistening muscles and heavy arched crest as he drove them forward.

Louise stood in her stirrups to gaze after the departing horses, studying each one as if to imprint the picture forever on her mind. Look at that buckskin! She’s gorgeous!

As if the young mare had heard, she flicked up her heels and spurted forward with a sudden burst of speed.

Ben drew to a halt beside Louise and tried to settle his mount whose tail curled up over her back in true Arabian style. Aren’t they awesome?

Ben and Louise sat still and held their reins tight as their horses tried to follow the departing brumbies. The thundering of hooves faded away as the herd disappeared down the hillside.

Louise felt her senses heightened—colours seemed brighter, every sound distinct. Birdsong trilled around the riders, every noise sharper for the absence of the horses. Her mount’s sweat tingled her nostrils.

Do you think something is chasing them?

Ben had lived all his life on a farm at the base of the mountains. He shrugged. Probably not. When it’s windy they love a good run. I expect it’s just high spirits, or maybe the lead mare caught the scent of us.

Ned, Louise’s gelding, pranced sideways and tossed his head. Louise felt the same surge of energy, not sure that she really wanted to stand quietly either. Desire to gallop across the open plains tingled through her body.

Let’s follow them!

Nah, that wouldn’t be safe. We don’t want a run in with that stallion, especially as I’m on Lady. Ben relaxed his reins and squeezed his mare on. There’s a creek pretty close. Let’s take the horses for a drink.

He turned along the edge of the forest, keeping away from the wide open spaces of the grasslands where the brumbies had recently passed.

Louise understood. These were Ben’s horses, and this was only her second ride out with her newfound school friend. They both attended Crowhurst High, but the new term didn’t start for another four weeks. Heaven!

Thanks heaps for sharing your horses with me. I wish I had one of my own, but Dad says it’s too early. He wants us to settle in for a few months.

Ben shrugged. That’s okay. None of my friends like to come up here. I can’t exercise all the horses on my own, and we need them fit for mustering.

He urged his mare into a trot and called over his shoulder. Come on, let’s get the bounce out of these guys.

He sat deep and let his horse roll into a canter.

To be riding out in the bush fulfilled a lifelong dream for Louise. She felt comfortable in the deep stock saddle, even though she had only ever ridden in a general purpose saddle at the riding school. Having grown up in a city, her riding had been confined to lessons in an arena and the occasional gymkhana. Without a horse of her own she hadn’t been able to attend Pony Club or ride the trails in the pine plantations. She took a deep breath of the mountain air and followed Ben, settling in to her horse’s rhythm.

She hoped they’d see more brumbies.

Louise flopped to the ground and opened her saddlebags. With the horses watered and tethered to a nearby tree in the shade, she welcomed the chance of a drink. Her mother had insisted on packing two rounds of tuna sandwiches, plus cake and muesli bars, fruit and an energy drink.

Do you want some? I’ve got enough for my whole family.

Ben shook his head. Nah, I’m good with water and corned beef.

He lay on the creek bank with his hands folded underneath his head. The water burbled over the rocks.

We’ll rest for a few minutes then head out. There’s still a long way to go.

Louise’s cake crumbled into a million pieces. She laughed. What a mess. It didn’t survive that last chase.

She strolled over to the Appaloosa who gobbled up the crumbs. There you go, boy. Wild horses might have freedom but they don’t get cake.

Some of those wild horses may not have freedom for much longer. Ben rolled onto one elbow and stuck a blade of grass between his lips, making whistling noises like a bird.

What do you mean? The horses are safe here in the park aren’t they?

The sun felt hot on Louise’s back as she knelt by the creek and washed her hands in the freezing water. A bronze dragon-fly hovered in front of her nose then darted away. She shook her hands dry before dropping to sit cross-legged next to Ben.

Ben mumbled through his sandwich. Every year the rangers round up as many as they can. The park can only sustain a few hundred and the horse numbers are blowing way out.

What do they do with the ones they catch?

Louise ran her fingers through her blonde fringe where her helmet had made it stick to her forehead. She tried to imagine the wild horses being tamed and ridden. She doubted she would be able to stay on a horse that bucked and pig-rooted like the ones they had seen. It didn’t seem right to confine them.

They go to the sales. Most of them will end up at the doggers. At Louise’s puzzled look, Ben shrugged. You know, for pet food.

Pet food? Louise sat up in alarm. You mean they’ll be killed?

The thought of the beautiful horses being turned into dog meat sent shivers of revulsion through her body. Can’t they be broken in and sold? Or used for breeding? They look really strong and must be tough if they can survive up here in the mountains.

It occurred to her that maybe being confined wasn’t so bad if it meant the horses stayed alive.

A snort erupted from Ben. Who’s going to do that? Nah, if someone wants they can buy them at the sales, but no-one usually bothers. They’re so fat when they come off the mountain at the end of summer they go for good slaughter prices. That’s why they’re mustered then, not after a hard winter when they’re in poor condition.

No way! Can’t we stop them? Louise couldn’t believe what she heard. The RSPCA, or Pony Club, or the greenies or someone must care.

Ben climbed to his feet. Don’t worry about it. It happens every year. They only get a few herds, there’s plenty more. But it’s important to keep the numbers down to protect the environment.

He tightened the girth of his saddle and vaulted onto his mare. Come on, we’d better head off.

The day no longer seemed so bright to Louise. She checked her tack before mounting her gelding. Following Ben, they splashed across the creek and entered the eucalypt forest. A narrow kangaroo track wound between gnarled and twisted snow gums, their bark peeling off to reveal splotches of pastel pink and cream. The horses’ hooves made barely a sound in the deep leaf litter, just a rustle of leaves and the occasional snapping of twigs.

Louise couldn’t stay unhappy for long. Being out on a horse in the mountains made her heart swell with joy. An echidna waddled by, snuffling for ants. A kookaburra declared his territory with a cackle that built to a raucous laugh, only quietening after the horses passed by. Breaking out of the trees, Louise marvelled at the alpine flowers carpeting the undulating hillside. Purple, white and yellow stretched to the horizon. A lone wedge-tailed eagle soared in lazy circles overhead.

Ben held up his hand and signalled for silence.

Louise froze. She didn’t know what Ben had seen. Then a movement caught her eye. Far away to the left in a sheltered hollow, two horses grazed. The black coat of the lead one shone like ebony. A larger liver chestnut with a thick mane and tail kept a few paces behind.

Ben turned slowly to Louise and indicated for her to be quiet with a finger