The government's war on wild horses is not new. Its war on Indian Horses is not new. The army worked hard to destroy the herds belonging to the Indians, just as the Department of the Interior worked so hard to destroy the little Spanish horse on the reservations and replace him with draft stock, just as hard as the BLM is working to erase the wild herds from the public lands of our nation, just as hard as the National Park Service once sought to destroy the wild horses of Shackelford, just as hard as the bureaucrats and big money lobbyists are fighting to destroy any hope of maintaining the Corolla herd, The government once hired young men to go into the wild herds and shoot down all the small (Spanish) stallions. This is not ancient history. One of our neighbors who only died a few years ago had as his first adult job the paid role of sniper of wild Spanish stallions.
The stallions were replaced with Thoroughbred,and occasionally Morgan, stallions. The purpose was to insure that we would have a ready supply of cavalry horses in the event of war. The program was known as the Remount program. Like most people that have never ridden a Spanish mustang, the government assumed that making them bigger would make them better.
Ghost Dance, shown above, was captured in an area where Remount horses were bred. She carries the looks of her Anglo lineage. There is just about nothing in her appearance that hints of her Spanish heritage.
However, her movement under saddle is is smooth gaited ground covering shuffle with exceptionally long strides. I bred Ghost Dance to Croatoan, an old Corolla stallion. The result is a horse designed take on very long distance rides. He carries nearly no fat, is narrow chested, rafter hips, spine high, and deep bodied. Croaton has large pin bones. Though this picture does not show it well, so does Ghost Dance. By the time this colt is seven years old he will likely fill out enough so that the bones only appear a bit prominent.
Like every other half Corolla we have produced he is taller than either of his parents.
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Before Saturday, when we went out to bring Red Feather home, I had not met these horses, Steve and Lydia walked out and whistled to them, as I trailed behind in the wet grass, I was carrying the lead line for Red feather and did not want him to focus on it. Every horse in this large green pasture went all head up and ears pricked..150 or 200 yards out, and all of a sudden they coursed over the turf towards us, big rangy mustangs, and little Corollas, the same movements, the same grace and fluidity as their forefathers of thousands and millions of years ago. It is very easy to lose oneself for awile watching this show. Cable is a poor alternative.
All of a sudden I found myself among them as they ghosted up, curious about who was in their pasture..and >really< glad to see Lydia..she, the bearer of treats. Except for Red Feather..he was all eyes on Steve..very telling of their bond.
It is a rare privilege to see these horses move on open ground as their ancestors did. No human ballet will ever compare.
It is incumbent upon us to preserve them, and the planet they live on for our children, just as countless millions of stallions and herd mares have preserved the ways of the herd for theirs.
I am proud to know them. -Lloyd
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