9 weeks later
The stallion in front of me snorted, then darted to the left. I was on my toes, watching his every move and trying to move with him. As the stallion lept up on it’s hind legs, I darted for his neck and wrapped my arms around it.
I was startled by the indian’s urgency. I let go, and fell back – the stallion stormed to the other end of the arena. Standing up, I walked over to the indian that had shouted – Tasunke, the horse trainer. He wore a look of complete shock.
“What were you thinking? There were two major problems with that move… one is that you could have been killed. Remember that horses are around 6 times your size, and their hooves are rather hard. Second: you are a predator, and horses are prey. They naturally have a fear of humans – if you are going to gain their trust, you must show them that you don’t intend to kill and eat them.”
He let me think about that for a minute, then encouraged me to go back into the arena. As I walked towards the stallion, he snorted, wide eyed, and tried to get as far away from me as he could. I looked back at Tasunke.
“You must have Patience.”
I gasped; sweat was pouring down my face. I looked to my left into the kind face of an Indian. There weren’t any horses. They had all gone. No… they had never been there. It had all been a dream – just a bad dream.
“You’re awake.” The Indian smiled. “You’ve been unconscious for three days.”
“You look like an Indian, but you sure don’t sound like one… aren’t Indians supposed to talk all choppy-like and with bad grammar?”
He chuckled. “Not all Indians are they way the movies show them being. We, however, do still follow our ancestors traditions. For hundreds of years, we have been known for our skill in training the wild horses.”
I smiled, thinking that it would be nice if they would tame all the wild horses that landed me here.