The Story

​   ​  Under a starry, starry sky a dappled grey horse stands at the corner of a large fenced- in pasture on a rise at the mouth of a canyon and sniffs the wind, which is flowing down and out of the widening and deepening gorge. He gives off a soft and low nicker while bobbing his head up and down, and impatiently paws at the ground with his hoof, first with one fore-foot and then the other. He then quickly turns and runs parallel to the fence a short distance down the rise, away from the mouth of the canyon. Suddenly he stops short and turning back into the direction of the fence, runs back up to the corner and again sniffs the wind and with tail raised he snorts and prances in a tight circle. He stops and looks up into the canyon, and he tests the wind, for the thermal currents were changing. He begins to jostle back and forth on his fore-legs and cries out with a loud whinny and again turns parallel to the fence with his nose in the air and continues his lonesome cry. He drops his head and runs fore-long to the opposite corner, a distance of nearly a half a mile, to a cross fence where a windmill sits. Its blades are giving off a soft purring sound, accompanied by the chugging sound of water flowing into a large steel tank which is shared by the adjoining pasture. On the other side of the tank stand three mares and a stud. The grey seeks solace from the mares, and immediately, the stud turns and lunges at him squealing with a gaping mouth with the intent of seizing the grey by the neck. The grey immediately collects himself and ducks escaping the viscous bite of the stud. In jumping off to the side, he escapes the threat of his adversary by his quick movement and the aid of the barrier which separates them. Stopping for a moment, he looks far off to the other geldings which occupy the same pasture as him, as they peacefully graze with no concern of the things that are tormenting him. A bay lifts his head and looks in the direction of the grey momentarily and then drops his head and returns to grazing. Receiving the silent beckoning of the bay he temporarily forgets the impending threat, and his first concern, and lowers his head. He steps off in the direction of the geldings, and suddenly he catches the wind and his nostrils flare, which causes him to stop and again throw his head up. As the stars are disappearing and the sky is beginning to brighten the grey again turns and begins to run to the corner of the fence at the mouth of the canyon and again gives out a long beckoning cry.​

        The grey leans against the cedar post and its single top rail, which form the corner bracing for the strands of barbed wire that are lashed to cedar posts set at varying intervals and run the distance of a mile in either direction, to test for its rigidity and its resistance against his weight. The structure, indicating its permanency, gives no submission to the grey. The dapple grey steps back and lowers his head and waits. That corner spot would become worn from when the worried one would return time and time again to take up his vigil.