The hairs on his arms stood on edge. He sensed and smelled a wildness in the air.
He sighted the Winchester while sitting, and he saw it though the scope; a black horse galloping in a steady fast run, all muscle and determination. Nate lowered the gun as the horse neared. It didn't slow, didn't break stride, and the barbed wire barrier was mere yards away.
Nate tried to yell but lacked the breath for it. The horse would contact the fence soon and he did not want to see that happen.
He gripped the rifle and his hand found the trigger. A shot in the air might still scare the animal off. But it was already too late. Betsy rose up on her hind legs once more and faced the fence just as the horse came upon it.
His thoughts of firing his rifle faded as the horse raced toward the fence. He hunkered down and braced for impact.
The horse jumped while still at least twelve feet outside of the fence line. The animal rose high in the air and hot breath billowed from its nostrils. Its front legs tucked into its chest, the hind legs parallel to its body. The mane, long and dark, rose above the horse's crest, buffeted by the currents of the wind.
It looked to Nate like the horse cleared the fence by a good six feet, an impossibility, and was several yards into the perimeter before it touched ground. When it did, the horse continued its mad gait across the south pasture.
Nate stood and watched the creature grow smaller as it made tracks toward his house and barns. He secured the rifle and hopped back on Betsy. She seemed less restless but still paced in an agitated manner.
"Alright girl," he said while patting her neck, "if you've calmed down enough, let's see if we can find out what the hell just happened."
He reined his horse toward home. The rest of the fence inspection would wait. For now his mind was a jumble of images, including one of a horse who just might have been able to fly.
3
----
The horse had found the water trough. Normally a favored hangout for the Rising Sun's stallions on a warm afternoon, Nate saw that the stranger had the facility all to himself. The others gathered there kept their distance, cautiously eyeing up the new arrival.
Betsy slowed her gait as they approached, eventually stopping a good distance from the trough. Nate dismounted while thinking how he might handle the situation. He noticed several of the horses looking his way as if he might have a plan in mind. He didn't.
He approached the horse slowly from the side. If the animal was concerned about the human presence he failed to show it. The horse continued to drink seemingly oblivious to all around him.
Nate reached the trough and leaned against it facing the horse. He saw he had been mistaken about the horse's color. It was not black but dark blue.
"What's up big guy?"
The horse ignored him for a while, then dipped most of his head into the water. When he rose he shook off in a fierce manner, soaking Nate in the process. A few of the horses found this amusing. They snorted and neighed at the sight.
Nate removed a handkerchief from the back pocket of his jeans and wiped his face.
"Very funny."
The horse stared at him. Its dark eyes seemed to evaluate the man. Then it backed away from the trough and walked in front of Nate. The horse lowered its head until its forehead pressed against his chest. Nate saw the other horses back away and knew what was coming.
"Don't do it big fella," he had time to say before he was flipped backward into the water. He submerged, pulled himself up, then slipped and disappeared beneath the surface again. This time he gripped the wooden sides of the trough tightly and yanked himself to his feet.
If the horses were amused before, now they were hysterical. The snorting and neighing rose to a deafening pitch as they nudged and pushed each other in exuberant delight.
Nate shook his head causing more commotion.
"I'm so glad you gave me the opportunity to provide some comic relief to your otherwise
He sighted the Winchester while sitting, and he saw it though the scope; a black horse galloping in a steady fast run, all muscle and determination. Nate lowered the gun as the horse neared. It didn't slow, didn't break stride, and the barbed wire barrier was mere yards away.
Nate tried to yell but lacked the breath for it. The horse would contact the fence soon and he did not want to see that happen.
He gripped the rifle and his hand found the trigger. A shot in the air might still scare the animal off. But it was already too late. Betsy rose up on her hind legs once more and faced the fence just as the horse came upon it.
His thoughts of firing his rifle faded as the horse raced toward the fence. He hunkered down and braced for impact.
The horse jumped while still at least twelve feet outside of the fence line. The animal rose high in the air and hot breath billowed from its nostrils. Its front legs tucked into its chest, the hind legs parallel to its body. The mane, long and dark, rose above the horse's crest, buffeted by the currents of the wind.
It looked to Nate like the horse cleared the fence by a good six feet, an impossibility, and was several yards into the perimeter before it touched ground. When it did, the horse continued its mad gait across the south pasture.
Nate stood and watched the creature grow smaller as it made tracks toward his house and barns. He secured the rifle and hopped back on Betsy. She seemed less restless but still paced in an agitated manner.
"Alright girl," he said while patting her neck, "if you've calmed down enough, let's see if we can find out what the hell just happened."
He reined his horse toward home. The rest of the fence inspection would wait. For now his mind was a jumble of images, including one of a horse who just might have been able to fly.
3
----
The horse had found the water trough. Normally a favored hangout for the Rising Sun's stallions on a warm afternoon, Nate saw that the stranger had the facility all to himself. The others gathered there kept their distance, cautiously eyeing up the new arrival.
Betsy slowed her gait as they approached, eventually stopping a good distance from the trough. Nate dismounted while thinking how he might handle the situation. He noticed several of the horses looking his way as if he might have a plan in mind. He didn't.
He approached the horse slowly from the side. If the animal was concerned about the human presence he failed to show it. The horse continued to drink seemingly oblivious to all around him.
Nate reached the trough and leaned against it facing the horse. He saw he had been mistaken about the horse's color. It was not black but dark blue.
"What's up big guy?"
The horse ignored him for a while, then dipped most of his head into the water. When he rose he shook off in a fierce manner, soaking Nate in the process. A few of the horses found this amusing. They snorted and neighed at the sight.
Nate removed a handkerchief from the back pocket of his jeans and wiped his face.
"Very funny."
The horse stared at him. Its dark eyes seemed to evaluate the man. Then it backed away from the trough and walked in front of Nate. The horse lowered its head until its forehead pressed against his chest. Nate saw the other horses back away and knew what was coming.
"Don't do it big fella," he had time to say before he was flipped backward into the water. He submerged, pulled himself up, then slipped and disappeared beneath the surface again. This time he gripped the wooden sides of the trough tightly and yanked himself to his feet.
If the horses were amused before, now they were hysterical. The snorting and neighing rose to a deafening pitch as they nudged and pushed each other in exuberant delight.
Nate shook his head causing more commotion.
"I'm so glad you gave me the opportunity to provide some comic relief to your otherwise
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