Post Grid: An Arizona EMP Adventure (36 page)

“It doesn't need to be super-strong,” Kelly said. “Most horses won't try to go through what they think is a solid fence. My granddad used to make horse traps like this in the White Mountains. It worked for him. I don't want a repeat of last night.”

The corral had been placed between where the herd had been the day before and the river. Jess and Lynn arranged nibbles of oats, spread out in a line, leading from the grassy area where the horses seemed to graze, to the gate of the trap. A veritable feast of molasses-coated oats had been prepared for any horse willing to enter. Traveler and Buckskin chomped grass in the shade behind the trap. Kelly thought Emma's horses might help the strays to feel more at ease, or at least pique their interest. Jess took his position behind a bush on the left of the trap, and Lynn hid on the right. Each held a rope attached to a makeshift gate.

“Okay, everyone knows the plan?” Kelly asked. Without waiting for an answer, she spurred Pokey in a wide arc toward the last known location of the herd. It was important to come at them from the far side to drive them toward the trap. Jared rode Hokey beside her.

They rode slowly, silently, watching for the herd. The day was beautiful; it felt like one of the many joyrides Kelly had taken in this area before. She had to remind herself that this was serious business. Finally, they spied horses grazing. Jared stayed where he was as Kelly began slowly moving around the horses. She rode a distance behind them, then slowly encouraged the animals to move in the direction of the trap. She didn't want to push the herd too hard, just encourage them to amble in the right direction. After some time, one of the horses found the first deposit of oats. Shortly, another found more oats. Their pace increased as they searched for more treats. The horses grouped closer together, competing for the food. The black stallion, ahead of the others, sniffed the air, head held high and his body on alert.

Kelly decided to be the dominant “horse” at that point and let out an impressive “neigh” that reverberated off the surrounding hills. She motioned to Jared to rush the them with her. Dust rose into the air from Hokey's and Pokey's hooves as she and Jared focused on spooking the herd.

The stallion bobbed his head and neighed loudly, signaling to the other horses to follow his lead, then broke into a full run toward the makeshift corral.

“This is it!” Kelly cried. “It's working.” She flashed a thumbs-up sign to Jared.

The stallion slowed as he approached the trap, dancing back and forth. He looked like he was trying to decide his next move, but his ladies and the junior males kept coming. Jared and Kelly drove forward until the entire troop was well into the wings of the trap. They circled a short distance back, along the rear and sides, driving the herd forward, pushing them through the gate.

Jess and Lynn closed the gate behind the herd as the horses ran around and around the perimeter of the enclosure.

“Looks like a circus act,” yelled Lynn.

Kelly, who had joined her young friends, said, “Stay back in case one of them rushes the fence.”

It took the horses a good fifteen minutes before settling down and standing quietly, taking in their predicament or simply grazing. All four horsemen leaned over the sturdiest part of the fence, observing the different horses and contemplating.

“Are we going to bring them all home?” Lynn asked, her voice jumping with excitement.

“No, most of these are wild.” Kelly raised her voice to be heard over the breeze and the jostling horses. “I don't want to have to saddle break and wagon break broncs if it can be avoided. Besides, Mom's house can't support this many.”

“Now what do we do?” Jess asked.

“Let them rest, calm down for a bit and eat the oats, then we can start cutting the wild ones out of the corral.”

“I like the pretty pinto,” Lynn said, pointing to a mostly-white horse with large, tawny brown bubbles of color splashed across her body.

“She is pretty,” Kelly said. “We'll have to see if she will take a saddle. I'm so excited to have some domestic stock.” Kelly moved about in her saddle, trying to contain her joy. “Let's see, I count five wearing shoes: four mares and one gelding.”

It took the rest of the day, with plenty of rest breaks for both cowhands and horses, to get the herd cut.

“We're going to have to spend another night out,” said Jared, flirting with Kelly by wrinkling up his nose and throwing his head back slightly.

“That's fine with me, Cookie,” Kelly said. “I could use some chuck.” She wrinkled up her nose, echoing the flirt.

Jess looked up at Kelly. “Huh?”

“Cookie means cook, and chuck is food,” said Kelly. “It's a joke, a play on words. You know, Old West chuckwagons.”

Jess still looked confused.

“I'm hungry, Jess, I'm hungry,” said Kelly.

“Me too,” he said, smiling. “I'm always hungry. As long as it means food, I don't care what you call it.”

****

Kelly woke early and quietly eased out of the sleeping bag she shared with Jared. She went to the corral, taking three bridles and some oats with her.

The stallion and what was left of his harem were still hanging around outside the fencing. His mares inside the fence whinnied to him softly from time to time. The stallion moved toward the rocky, brushy side of the corral, crowding the cliff as Kelly approached. He made noises in protest as she came closer.

Kelly ignored him and went to the corral. She began talking to the five horses inside. “Come here, girl,” she said to the most inquisitive horse, the little pinto. “Lynn has her eye on you,” she said soothingly, “and I can see why.”

The pretty horse nudged Kelly's hand, which was now over the fence, with her nose.

“So you want a pet on the nose? How about some oats?”

The horse ate greedily what she was offered as Kelly rubbed her nose and ears.

Kelly made her way around to the gate and slipped in. She had to move a sleeping bag to work the loop of wire that held the corral closed. All of the horses rushed to the far side except the pinto, who stood patiently, probably hoping for more oats.

“Here, girl,” Kelly said putting her hand out flat with the treat atop. While the pinto ate, she slipped a bridle over her head. “You've done this before, haven't you, girl?”

Interested now, the other horses approached Kelly and the pinto, looking for some of the same.

By the time the others reached the corral, Kelly had four of the five horses bridled. The fifth, the gelding, was still stand-offish.

“Lynn, what do you want to name your horse?” Kelly asked.

“What? I get the pinto?”

“Yeah, if you want her.”

“Want her? You know I want her.” Lynn grinned, then thought for a moment. “How about Beans? I'll call her Beans because she's a pinto. Get it?”

“Cute,” said Jess. “Do I get one?”

“Which one do you want?” asked Kelly.

“I want that brown one, the one who looks like she stepped in white paint up to her hocks.”

“Interesting face, don't you think?” said Kelly. “She has a thick blaze. If it had gone all the way around her eyes and nostrils, it would have given her a badger face.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jess asked.

“It's a type of face mark that horses have, you know, like the star, the strip and the blaze,” said Kelly. “It's like the horse is wearing a mask sculpted around the eyes, almost like the whole face was dunked in paint.”

“Good choice, Jess,” said Jared. “She looks sturdy, like she could handle just about anything.”

“What are you going to name her?” asked Lynn.

Jess answered without a moment's pause, “Lightning, because her blaze is so distinct, like a flash of lightning against a dark sky.”

“How poetic,” said Lynn.

“What about the other two?” asked Jess. “They'll have to be for my dad and Dennis.”

“Remember, all of these horses are meant to pull wagons to Utah,” said Kelly.

“But we can just tell Dennis and Jose that these are their horses.”

“Sure.” Kelly pursed her lips. “It won't hurt anything.” Smiling, she asked, “Do you want to name them or do you want to let them do it?”

“We wanna do it, don't we, Jess?” said Lynn.

“My dad's has to be Sapo—it means toad in Spanish. Grandpa had this friend who trained horses. He told crazy stories and would call every stupid, stubborn horse Sapo. When I was little I used to imagine a big, green, fat horse.”

“Do you have a favorite?” Kelly asked Jess.

“Yep, that black one over there,” Jess pointed to a dark horse with a long black mane and tail.

“She's a pretty one, but she's not all black; her coat has a nice brown undertone that makes her look velvety,” said Lynn. “I had a dress like that once.”

“Okay, Lynn, what about your dad's?” asked Kelly. “The only one left is that brown one with the little white dot on her forehead and white on her left front ankle.”

“I like her, but I'll have to put some thought into it. Can I tell you later?”

“Sure. Hey, Jared, come get these girls.” Kelly nodded to the four she had tied to a low-hanging tree limb near the gate.

Jared reached in and untied the lead ropes, then opened the gate just far enough to get the mares out, single file. The gelding made a lunge for the gate but Kelly jumped out at him, turning him around. He whinnied and threw his head back, making a show.

Kelly stood in the middle of the corral staring down the gelding, rope in hand. She'd made a big loop and now twirled it in the air to keep it aloft. The gelding pranced back and forth, daring the cowgirl to launch it in his direction.

Jess and Lynn climbed a small tree to watch the show.

Kelly threw the lasso but it fell short of its mark, landing in a cloud of dust on the desert floor. Hand over hand, she rewound the rope into nice loops hanging from her gloved left hand. Another loop was created and twirled overhead, then launched. The rope sailed over the gelding's head and around his neck. The beast's sharp tug on the rope pulled Kelly forward forcefully. She ran toward the gelding but then stopped and dug her heels in to no avail; he was just too strong. He pulled her in any direction he wished.

Jared, seeing her plight, made his way into the corral to help. He grabbed the rope with both his hands in front of Kelly's, and they both resisted. The result wasn't that much better.

“Jess, get me a switch,” Kelly called. “Make it long, as long as you can!”

One solid leap put Jess on the desert floor under the tree he had been sitting in. His hand went to the knife tucked in his cowboy boot. He looked into the wispy, lime-green, desert tree and chose a branch about ten feet long and two inches in diameter where it joined the main trunk.

“It's going to take a couple of minutes,” he said, hacking the branch at its base.

“This horse is mine,” said Jared. “He's got some grit. He's handsome too. I'll call 'im Bullet.”

Bullet paced back and forth, pulling on the lasso.

“We'll have to see if he'll calm down. This one might be staying here.”

“I've got the switch,” yelled Jess.

“Bring it in here, easy,” said Kelly, motioning to the gate. “Jared, you had better go.”

“What, and leave you in here alone? No way.”

“I'll be fine now that I have my trusty friend here,” Kelly said taking the long green switch and cracking it against the ground to see how it reacted in her hand. “Thanks, Jess. It's perfect.”

Both men looked wary as they left the makeshift corral. Jared looked back at Kelly, who gave him a reassuring smile. Bullet had settled some, but was still a very large animal to contend with.

Kelly urged the gelding to go around the corral in a circle, clockwise, by pulling on the rope around his neck. He resisted at first by rearing, shaking his head and waving his thick mane. He started toward her.
Crack!
went the whip at his feet. His eyes went large and round, nostrils flared.

“This type of training is called round penning,” said Kelly, “and you will see why.”

He backed off; she had his attention and respect. Slowly, he started moving in the circle that his trainer wanted him to adopt. “There, there, boy. You remember now, don't you?”

The horse seemed to want to trot. “There you go, burn off some steam,” Kelly cooed. She spun in a circle from the middle of the pen, just giving the gelding his head, letting him set his own pace. Suddenly, he turned to come toward her and she gave him a crack on the nose, directing him back to his circle. After ten times around, Bullet was slowed and his head directed to turn and start a counterclockwise trot. He did this willingly.

“See?” Kelly said, “he's not so bad, he'd just forgotten his manners.”

Horse school continued for about an hour, until Kelly was satisfied that Bullet wouldn't give them any problems on the road.

“I think I've taken the fight out of him,” Kelly announced. “Let's go home.”