Grazing together

[Corowa]

The two grey fillies grazed side by side. They were half-sisters, and every line of their bodies was identical. The influence of stockhorse blood was obvious in their clean legs and strong muscles. The pair had come from all the way down past Quambat Flat, from the rugged, bush country around Limestone Creek.

They had run for a while, with a mob of young horses up by the Tin Mines. It was there, Gunuwarra and Gurrurrk had attracted the attention of an ugly chestnut. He had guarded the pair jealously from the other horses, and it was only when he had gone off to drink, the two fillies had escaped into the bush.

There were few stallions grazing with their herds west of Dead Horse Gap. It was not unusual to see a stockman riding along on his tame horse, and Gunuwarra knew it would be difficult for a big herd to escape if there was a serious brumby drive. Mostly, the stockmen left the ordinary-coloured brumbies alone, although once, a bay mare had warned Gunuwarra not to go any further down into the valley.

Gurrurrk paused in her grazing and slowly lifted her head. The wind was blowing hard, and so many different smells carried to those widely flaring. Gunuwarra studied her sister closely, hoping she had not spotted anything particularly troubling. Quite suddenly, Gurrurrk shook herself and gave a loud snort, losing interest in whatever it was she had seen. Yet beside her, Gunuwarra kept a watchful eye while she grazed, a little more wary than before.

[Ehetere]

The pale stallion skirted the tree line, fully aware of how his near white coat would show against the landscape, but chose to sacrifice stealth for speed. After the fiasco that had happened down in the gap, Piringa no longer felt comfortable leaving his growing herd alone for very long, so he continued to move them often so that he might continue his search for his mate, Kiata. He could not force them as fast as he wanted to travel though, some of the mares beginning to show signs that they were in foal. He by no means wanted to run them ragged before the winter, so while he’d hidden them away in a sheltered valley he chose to scout the country where man still lurked by himself, lest he risk detection.

Fleet and nimble as a rock wallaby down a mountainside, he dodged and weaved and ducked, maintaining a fast trot while he aimlessly scouted, looking, deserately looking for any sign that his beloved roan mare might be nearby. Jiba had lost contact with her at the Boggy, but had failed to tell him so until many days after, when searching for the pair’s yearling daughters had proved unsuccessful. Piringa had no way of knowing which way she might have gone, north, south, east, west, and he’d simply taken a gamble to scout out the lower country. He’d make his way north again in autumn, back to his beloved Ramsheads so he might visit before winter and if luck was on his side, somehow come across her trail along the way.

A blustery gust of wind brought the scent of mares to his flaring nostrils, only there for a second before being snatched away again. There was no way of knowing who or whom the scent might belong to, but Piringa was going to find out, just in case. The direction from which the scent had come was nearly impossible to discern, so he waited, patiently, for the wind to bring it to him once more. There. He set off with a more purposeful spring in his step, heading in the direction that the mare or mares were located.

He came upon the pair rather suddenly, emerging from a patch of bush to find one of the dark fillies, this one littered with dapples, head thrown up and watchful. The other was a similarly dark shade, only without the dapples - an iron grey. The pair of fillies made him shudder for a moment: their coats reminded him very much of his brother. They could not be his get though, they could not be much younger than him and their profiles were straighter, their edges more round. He offered a slightly uncertain whicker of greeting, glancing briefly into the valley below to see if they might have a herd nearby. Spotting no small mob of horses, he returned his attention to the pair before him, though he could not trust his nose for detecting other brumbies that may be hidden from sight.

“Greetings, Grey fillies of the Gap,” he said, stepping a little further from the scrub. “I apologize for interrupting your grazing. You haven’t by chance seen a peachy roan filly come by here at all?” He could not help but notice how similar the pair were, surely they were sisters. He wondered whether they had a herd they had wandered from, or a stallion. Two creatures as fine as they would certainly have a keeper.

[Corowa]

Gunuwarra was astonished, when a strange stallion moved out of the scrub towards them. She had heard and smelt nothing. Indeed, he must have been a very cunning horse to have gotten so close.

She eyed the stallion suspiciously. Since the incident with that bad-tempered chestnut near the Tin Mines, the two fillies had kept their distance from any stallions and their herds. Yet Gunuwarra felt certain this grey stallion meant them no harm. Rather, he seemed more intent on finding that lost roan mare.

“I have seen no such mare,” Gunuwarra told him. “Though you might have more luck further south of here. We saw many brumby mobs in the Cascades only a few weeks ago.” She hoped the stallion would find his missing mare. It would be an awful thing to search and never find. Surely, it was unusual for a mare to wander off alone. Perhaps she had been stolen by another stallion. Although it would be unlikely that one had gotten past the cunning grey.


Gurrurrk kept close to Gunuwarra’s side. The memory of that horrible chestnut stallion was still fresh in her mind, and the filly shivered at the sight of the strange grey.

She gave a miserable whinny, and huddled further up against Gunuwarra’s protective bulk. If only she was more like Gunuwarra! She could tell her grey sister was not afraid.

Gunuwarra was never bothered by any of the brumbies they ran into, except perhaps that stallion down by the Tin Mines. Gurrurrk could not believe that her half-sister could stand there so very still and calm. Gunuwarra did not appear to fear anything, but surely, she must have realised that this stallion might be angry when he could not find his mare.

[Ehetere]

Understandably the fillies were suspicious. They did not look old enough to be long away from their birth herds, and who knows how many young stallions might have been vying for their attentions. Without the protection of a herd mares and fillies were at risk of becoming the next prize of some horrible stallion, though Piringa knew many were far more independent and could look after themselves. And get themselves into trouble, he mused while thinking about Alinga and her wandering habits.

He sighed when the dappled filly replied, having already guessed the answer but unable to give up all hope. South he would continue then, but he could not go much farther without his herd, lest they be stolen in his absence. He would return to them, and then under the shelter of darkness and by the light of the stars he would creep them through the country where man lay and onwards to the Cascades.

“Do you two run with one of those mobs?” he asked conversationally, noting how the iron grey trembled against her companion’s side. He wanted to be intimidating to other stallions, not fillies. It was almost as though the stallion had forgotten how he’d grown, so much so since he himself were only a colt. Though not particularly bulky nor tall of stature, he was certainly larger than the two greys by far. “Or have you left your birth herd seeking adventure - surely you are sisters?”

He wondered about taking them with him, back to the herd. The pair were handsome creatures to be sure, though he was having doubts about whether the iron grey would if he asked. He had no intentions of forcing them, they were only young and he didn’t want to terrify the quiet one even more. But should they be so interested he could offer them a safe home, a herd for company. Admittedly full of mares with their own eccentricities and issues, but a herd none the less.

[Corowa]

Gunuwarra looked curiously at the stallion. He kept looking about himself as if expecting to find someone there. What was it that had made him so restless? The filly knew there were other brumbies nearby. Had the stallion smelt those other horses and found his missing mare amongst them?

She snorted scornfully at his words. “As if we would run with any of those mobs, their stallions are all dolts and the mares are nothing more than great bores.” It seemed every stallion was preoccupied with what herd they belonged to, and this one was no different.

While her sister spoke to the strange stallion, Gurrurrk drew on all the courage she held, and stepped carefully out from Gunuwarra’s side. She was rather curious about the pale grey stallion and his missing mare. It seemed odd a stallion would leave his herd to track down one mare. But perhaps it was one of his favourites. That would explain at least, why he had shown no interest in stealing them away.

She nickered a shy greeting to the stallion. At once, she felt Gunuwarra stiffen, and Gurrurrk realised too late that her sister had intended for her to stay hidden. The filly immediately backed up, wide-eyed and nervous. Did Gunuwarra fear that she would somehow be stolen by this strange grey stallion?

[Ehetere]

The white stallion snorted in amusement at the dapple grey’s quick tongue. ”I imagine they would be to a wit such as yours,” he replied with a chuckle and the hint of admiration in his tone. Humour and laughter, things that had been sorely missed from his life for quite some time now. The dapple grey was quickly growing on him, though her cutting remarks added further doubt to whether they’d wish to come with him. She mightn’t wish for herd life at all, and Piringa could almost relate to that.

He’d never intended to have a particularly large herd, and he would have been quite content with two or three mares who could run free between the Ramsheads with him. Life had seemingly thrown him onto a different path however, but he would certainly like to travel north again and reclaim his old home, revisit his old haunts. He had seen no sign of his sire up there when he’d been there in spring, and the longing for familiar pastures was calling to him again.

Returning to reality, he noticed the iron grey peeking out from behind her protector, offering a little nicker of greeting. He pricked his ears happily, glad to see she seemed to have gotten over her fear of him. Just as quickly her sister reprimanded her though, and Piringa worried that he’d done something wrong. Looking to diffuse the situation, he offered a deep whicker. “How rude of me, I never introduced myself. I am Piringa, named for the frost, and I hail from the Ramsheads. Would I perchance be able to tempt your names?”

[Corowa]

The longer that pale grey stallion stood and watched them, the more anxious Gunuwarra felt. She knew there must have been quite a few older stallions that ran with their herds in the surrounding country. But, the two fillies had been careful where they went in that wide valley below. Gunuwarra was not certain whether Piringa meant to cause trouble. If he did indeed have mares of his own, they must have been well-hidden, for she hadn’t smelt them.

Still, Piringa seemed only mildly interested by their presence here. Obviously, the stallion was more worried with finding his missing mare than luring away two young fillies. Gunuwarra watched now as his ears pricked forward, and beside her, Gurrurrk gave a little snort.

Gunuwarra was torn. While she knew it would be very exciting to run with a stallion such as Piringa, something held the filly back. What if he treated them with the same cruelty that horrid chestnut had shown? Gunuwarra broke out in a sweat, when she remembered that mad, panicked gallop through the bush. For a few seconds, there was a heavy silence, and it seemed to Gunuwarra that even the bush awaited her reply.

“I am Gunuwarra and this is my half-sister Gurrurrk,” she answered finally. All this time, Gurrurrk had stayed close by, and Gunuwarra was secretly relieved her sister had not tried to call again to Piringa. She knew her half-sister was a striking horse with her dark, iron-grey hide. Even though, the stallion seemed to pose no threat to them, Gunuwarra still eyed Piringa carefully. “We come from down past the Tin Mines,” she added more uncertainly. “Down near the headwaters of Limestone Creek.”

[Ehetere]

His words hung in the air, as it seemed the dapple grey sister was weighing up his worth. Piringa resisted the urge to fidget under her piercing gaze, there was a certain wisdom to it that reminded him of his all knowing mother. He also remembered the swift reprimand that came if she was disapproving. Though he did not fear that these two fillies could do much to harm him, he knew full well that their dissatisfaction would result in either him or they leaving the ridge rather quickly.

Her reply was sweet music to his ears, and he exhaled a mighty breath of relief. He really did wish for the sisters to come with him, for Gunuwarra to amuse him with her wit and to help cure Gurruk of her shyness, at least give her a welcoming home. He liked this idea very much indeed. The dapple grey sister still seemed on her guard, wary of him. Piringa wondered what past they had left behind at the Tin Mines, perhaps what had made them so cautious. That could be attributed to their upbringing, or any number of other factors though, so it was hard to say.

“The Tin Mines? That’s a mighty way for a pair of fillies to travel,” he remarked, once again with a hint of approval in his tone. He’d loved to wander in his youth, with his dam and later by himself. The thrill of it all was exhilarating. The grey stallion was aiming on maintaining a cheerful atmosphere, despite the distinctly distrustful tone of Gunuwarra. Her sister still seemed curious at least, so maybe it was the dappled filly whom he had to convince here.

“Why did you leave, if you don’t mind me asking?”

[Corowa]

Gunuwarra was puzzled. It was natural that a filly should leave her sire’s herd. The heavy steel-grey stallion that was her sire, had been hated by his mares. There had no young stallions to steal Gunuwarra away. Instead, as spring turned to summer, the filly had felt within herself, a burning desire to escape. The horror of that encounter with the stallion of Tin Mine Creek lingered, and Gunuwarra’s uncertainty grew as she watched Piringa. She felt surer than ever, the white stallion wanted them for his herd.

Gunuwarra stared hard at Piringa. “Why should we not have left?” she asked him. “We are two-years-old. Old enough both, to leave our sire’s herd and strike off on our own.” The filly lifted her head, and shook out her sparse black mane. She had softened slightly to Piringa, flattered by the stallion’s apparent interest. Gurrurrk was obviously upset by Piringa’s presence, but Gunuwarra thought the flighty filly would be upset by any stallion, no matter how kind – or cruel.

Gurrurrk’s whole frame was shaking badly. Even though Piringa and his missing mare had pricked her curiosity, she was still very much afraid of the powerful-looking white stallion. Although she had never really been happy in her sire’s herd, there had been safety, in that sheltered valley just below the junction of the Murray River. She was astonished that Gunuwarra had chosen to speak to him. What was it about this white stallion Piringa that was so different?