Barmah Brumbies

by Soraya Nicholas

  Trucks and horse trailers were all parked in lines, and people were leading horses and milling about. It was just like at the last competition they’d been to – only then, the horses had been groomed to within an inch of their life and all the riders were wearing fancy jackets and velvet helmets. Here, the horses looked more relaxed, and everyone was wearing normal clothes.

  ‘What do you think?’ Katie asked as they all stepped out of the vehicle.

  Poppy smiled as she surveyed the scene in front of her. She could just make out a barbecue set up past the line of trucks, where smoke rose in the air, and she turned and grabbed her friends’ hands, squeezing them tight.

  ‘This is going to be the best trip ever!’

  Uncle Mark gestured for them to help and Poppy quickly opened the side door of the trailer to check on her two horses.

  Katie and Milly disappeared, but Poppy didn’t see them go. She was too busy fussing over Crystal and Storm.

  A heaving, creaking noise signalled that Mark was putting the back ramp down, and she undid Storm’s rope and stroked his neck. He snorted and stamped his hoof, impatient to get out of the confined space.

  ‘I’m going to take Storm off first,’ she called out.

  ‘Ready when you are,’ said Uncle Mark as the small gate behind Storm’s rump opened and Poppy ushered him off. He was in a hurry and raced backwards, but she managed to keep him straight, and when he was off the ramp he let out a loud whinny, dancing in a circle as he surveyed their new surroundings. He was holding his head so high in the air she burst out laughing.

  ‘Look at you! You’ve grown another hand high!’

  His dark, almost-black coat gleamed in the sunlight, and Poppy could imagine him at a show. He looked every bit as amazing as any of the other horses she’d seen at competitions and she grinned when she saw some riders standing back to admire him.

  ‘Someone’s excited,’ Uncle Mark said.

  Poppy stroked his neck. It was thick and hard with muscle as he stayed all tensed up.

  ‘Do you think he knows where he is?’ Poppy asked.

  Mark shrugged and took the rope from her. ‘Horses remember a lot more than we give them credit for.’

  Poppy left Storm with Mark and unloaded Crystal on her own, always surprised by how quietly she walked off the ramp, patiently waiting for Poppy to show her where they were going.

  ‘Where do you think we take them?’ Poppy asked, holding both ponies for a moment while Mark secured the ramp and bolted it.

  ‘Let’s go find the others and follow them.’

  Poppy led Crystal and watched as Storm stepped fast beside Uncle Mark, head still high, nostrils flared.

  She was certain he knew it was his old home, and she wondered if he was recognising smells. Was he remembering his old mob?

  ‘This is so cool,’ Milly said, falling into step beside her and leading a very excited, prancing Joe. ‘I can’t believe we’re here.’

  Cody trotted sedately behind them, behaving perfectly as always.

  ‘Sausages! Secure your horses then come and have something to eat!’ yelled a woman waving from behind the barbecue.

  Poppy’s mouth watered. She slowed to read a sign.

  No dogs permitted in the muster yards.

  Members registered riders only.

  Red ribbons on tails for stallions horses who kick.

  One horse length between each rider at all times.

  She made a mental note to keep an eye out for those red ribbons as they neared some yards. A lady holding a clipboard was waiting at the entrance.

  ‘These are the temporary yards where the horses are to be kept,’ the woman said to Aunt Sophie.

  ‘You all right with both of them, Pops?’ Uncle Mark asked. ‘I’m going to get their water sorted and fetch some hay from the truck.’

  Poppy nodded and took Storm’s lead rope. He’d calmed down a little, but he was still looking around, ears pricked as he surveyed the scene. She held both ropes tightly, one horse on each side of her, and waited for Aunt Sophie to finish talking to the lady.

  It felt nice having both of them beside her. She was so proud of Storm and she loved him so much, but she wondered if he was confused when he saw her with Crystal all the time. She loved having two horses, but she hated sometimes having to choose between them.

  ‘Hi, girls!’ the woman said brightly as Sophie led Shadow into the yards. ‘We’re going to have a great few days here at Barmah.’

  Poppy nodded and smiled as they passed. The forest smelt amazing, and she was so happy the rain had stopped. But everything felt fresh and vibrant because of it; droplets of water still twinkled on some of the leaves and the ground wasn’t too dusty.

  ‘Over here, girls,’ called Aunt Sophie. She’d put Shadow into his makeshift yard, and now she took Storm.

  Poppy secured Crystal and unclipped her lead rope, watching as all the horses moved about and inspected their new surroundings. Uncle Mark came back lugging water and Poppy turned to him.

  ‘We’ll get the hay,’ she suggested.

  He nodded and the three friends walked back toward the truck, chatting excitedly.

  ‘This is so cool. Check out all the horses that are here already,’ Katie hissed.

  ‘I know. Do you think a lot of them are brumbies?’ Poppy asked. There seemed to be all types of horses and ponies – big draft horses, finer-boned Thoroughbreds and then a whole lot of cross-breed types. She guessed some of them could have been brumbies, but she wasn’t sure.

  A girl walked past them then and Poppy turned back to look at her. She looked familiar, but Poppy couldn’t work out where she’d seen her. Maybe it was at a competition?

  ‘Oh. My. God,’ Milly exclaimed.

  ‘What?’ Poppy asked.

  ‘That was Sienna Andrews,’ Milly gasped. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t recognise her!’

  ‘Do you think we’ll be riding with her?’ Katie asked, eyes wide as she met Poppy’s gaze.

  Sienna Andrews. Poppy racked her brain and then it hit her. ‘Did she win the Australian Brumby Challenge?’

  ‘Duh.’ Milly laughed. ‘I could have told you that the second she walked past us!’

  Poppy looked back, trying to see Sienna’s long, almost-black hair, but she’d disappeared. Now she remembered reading all about the riding star in a HorseWyse magazine that Katie had brought to the farm one weekend. She was the youngest ever trainer to win, only eighteen years old, and the fact that she was a girl made it even cooler.

  ‘Come on, let’s get this hay and help set up camp so we can explore!’ Milly jumped up into the truck and Poppy followed her, eager to get back to the horses and find out what they’d be doing next.

  It was amazing. Poppy looked around, trying to stop her jaw from hanging open. The yards were so old they felt almost haunted, the timber faded and worn and huge trees brushing against the top rail in the far corner. A shiver ran through Poppy as she gazed up to the tallest tree, its gnarled trunk twisting so high in the air that she wondered if it was as ancient as the yards.

  ‘This is a special and historic moment,’ the woman speaking announced, sitting atop one of the upper rails of the large yards. ‘This yard was built in the 1800s. It’s hard to believe it’s been here so long. Back then, Barmah was used as winter grazing for cattle, and riders would gather to bring them into the very yards you’re standing in.’

  Poppy looked over at Katie and Milly and saw that they were both as entranced as her. It was even more incredible than she’d imagined. The cattle yards looked so different to the pictures she’d seen. In real life they were magical, and she loved that they’d been used so many years ago for big cattle musters.

  ‘We’re allowed one hundred riders per day here, so please check the schedules and make sure you know what times and days you’ll be riding. And kids, make sure your parent or guardian is riding with you at all times.’

  ‘I just imagined my mum was here riding with me,’ Milly said with a giggle. �
��Oh darling, where are the showers!? It’s awfully dusty and smelly out here, Amelia.’

  Katie leaned into Poppy helplessly as they broke into peals of laughter.

  ‘You’re so mean,’ Poppy said when she’d finally caught her breath. ‘I bet your mum doesn’t sound like that.’

  Katie snorted. ‘Yeah, she does kind of sound like that.’

  Poppy pushed her away playfully. She didn’t know the other girls’ mums very well, but whenever Milly’s mother dropped her off at Starlight Stables she was dressed in beautiful white outfits and gleaming black heels. Poppy could imagine camping would be very low on her list of Things to Do.

  ‘Come on, let’s get something to eat.’

  There were a group of helpers back at the barbecue and they waited in line before getting their sausages in bread, plus extras for Sophie and Mark, and slathering them in tomato sauce. They made their way slowly back to where their tent was pitched and Poppy inhaled the smell of horses and forest. She guessed some people would hate it, but she loved it.

  ‘Girls, come and meet Penny Foster,’ Aunt Sophie called out, waving them over. They were sitting with an older woman with grey hair, sipping beer and laughing about something.

  ‘Hi,’ Poppy said, wandering over and smiling briefly before hurriedly licking the tomato sauce that was starting to drip down her fingers. She passed one of the hotdogs over to her aunt.

  ‘Girls, Penny here is the president of the Victorian Brumby Association. We have her to thank for putting this event on, and for helping to save our beautiful wild horses from slaughter.’

  Penny waved at Aunt Sophie as if she was trying to brush away her words. ‘Stop trying to make me sound so important.’

  ‘Well, you are,’ Uncle Mark said. ‘Girls, when people were petitioning to kill the brumbies here, it was Penny who fought to stop them.’

  ‘My brumby actually came from here,’ Poppy said, suddenly far more interested in this woman than her food. ‘We’re not sure what exactly happened to him in the time between when we bought him at auction and now, but we’ve been told he was one of a handful of brumbies that ended up fleeing the forest during a fire.’

  ‘Ah, so you’re the young brumby rescuer,’ Penny said, her smile broad. ‘I’m impressed with the way you managed to talk your aunt and uncle into saving him with you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say “talked” so much as we had no other option,’ Aunt Sophie said wryly.

  They all laughed and Poppy felt her cheeks getting hot.

  ‘You know, Poppy, sometimes rescuing one brumby is enough to spur others into action,’ Penny said, putting down her drink and getting to her feet. ‘The more young people are prepared to challenge the government and stand up for our heritage horses, the better. And with that, I’d better go check everything’s ready for tomorrow.’

  As she was turning away, Poppy sucked back a breath. ‘Does it break your heart when you hear them called feral pests?’ she asked, her voice wobbling.

  Penny turned and stepped back toward Poppy, reaching for her hand and clasping it tight. ‘Yes, my love, it does. These majestic, beautiful creatures have lived on this land for generations and they should be recognised for how special they are.’

  Poppy beamed back at her. ‘It was lovely to meet you,’ she said.

  Penny patted her on the shoulder and strode away. She had only gone a couple of metres before she turned back. ‘Be sure to find me in the morning, Poppy. You and your friends can ride up front with me and I’ll tell you all about the Barmah brumbies.’ She waved and disappeared into the crowd.

  Poppy spun around to her friends, fists clenched in excitement. ‘Did you hear that?’ she said slowly.

  ‘Nice work, Pops!’ Milly crowed.

  ‘Come on, let’s check the horses, get something else to eat and then unpack,’ Katie said, looping her arm through Poppy’s. ‘I want to make sure we’re awake early to get that spot with her up front!’

  ‘What a generous offer, girls. Now, make sure you’re back before it gets dark,’ Aunt Sophie said.

  The light was fading fast, the sky tinged with pink as night began to close in. The muster yards were full of all different kinds of tents, and there were small groups of people scattered around, eating dinner and talking. Barbecue smoke and low chatter filtered through the trees and the odd neigh from a horse echoed through the yards.

  ‘I just love camping,’ Poppy said in a low voice. ‘This is so cool.’

  ‘I know, it’s amazing,’ Milly replied.

  Katie leaned into her and they stood for a moment, taking in the scene before heading toward the horses.

  Poppy ducked under the temporary fence to Crystal first, pleased to see that the horses had all settled now and were happily munching their hay. She ran a hand down Crystal’s face and absently played with her forelock a moment, twisting the hair as Crystal watched.

  ‘Goodnight,’ she whispered, giving her a hug.

  Storm lifted his head as she headed his way and let out a little nicker. He was shifting his weight from hoof to hoof and pawing at the ground, and his head was held high, as if he could see something no one else could. Poppy wondered all over again whether he secretly knew where he was and was itching to gallop off and explore the land he’d grown up on as a young colt.

  Poppy leaned into him, her nose against his silky neck. She stroked his inky-dark fur and breathed in the scent of him, eyes shut as she leaned against his warmth. Nothing about adopting Storm had been easy, but she’d done the right thing. She smiled. Saving his life had been worth it, even if she was going to have to walk dogs and do chores for the rest of her life to pay for his keep.

  There was a sense of excitement as the riders and horses gathered. The morning air was tinged cool, and Poppy snuggled deeper into her hoodie as they waited for everyone to mount. She held her reins on the buckle and sat in her saddle, looking around at the thirty or so horses and riders preparing to ride together. Bits clinked as the horses fidgeted, and some were snorting and stamping their hooves, impatient at having to wait. Poppy slid one hand down Crystal’s warm neck. She was alert, with her ears pricked and head held high, but she was standing perfectly still.

  Poppy glanced back at Aunt Sophie and was pleased to see that Storm looked calm but alert, his ears pricked forward like Crystal’s. She wished she were riding beside him so she could see him in action, but she couldn’t say no to riding up front.

  ‘Can we just get going already?’ Milly muttered.

  ‘Shh,’ Katie hissed.

  Poppy was ready to get going too, but she stayed quiet and waited, and within minutes they were being told to gather up their reins and go. Penny motioned for her to come to the front with a warm smile and Poppy moved up beside her on the wide track. She looked back and saw that Milly and Katie were riding two abreast one horse-length behind.

  When Penny spoke, she talked loud enough so many of the riders behind could hear, but there were other guides spread throughout the riders too.

  ‘The land we’re riding now was once simply called the Barmah Forest, and it was used for logging and grazing cattle. The majestic Clydesdales were the workhorses of choice at the time, and they were used to log out the red gums, and then during winter, the forest was a winter pasture for those same horses.’

  Poppy looked around at the huge tree trunks and native plants, and watched as a mist rose from the damp forest floor. She looked up towards the blue sky above, tree branches waving lightly in the breeze. When she looked through the towering tree trunks, she could almost see those big Clydesdales hefting big logs behind them, their muscled shoulders gleaming with sweat.

  ‘During World War Two, most of the men were away, and so the horses were left to run wild for years. There was also a large Standardbred horse stud nearby, and they also used the forest over winter to turn out their breeding horses. Even though the horses were rounded up again in spring, there were some who were never brought in and many wild-born foals remained. The mixture of C
lydesdale and Standardbred blood is the foundation of the Barmah brumbies that we have grown to love, and it’s why they’re such hardy, striking horses.’

  ‘So they were just left all alone?’ Milly asked, calling out from behind.

  ‘Horses were used for a purpose back then, they were work animals, and even though it might seem that they weren’t treated as well as we look after our horses now, most owners rested them properly over winter. Those horses were free to roam the forest as they pleased and had ample shelter and food.’

  Poppy gazed around, her hand slipping down to stroke Crystal’s neck. Those horses had probably loved being turned out for winter, but it must have been so hard for the ones that spent years away from humans and then were suddenly brought in. She gulped. And even harder for the wild ones who’d never, ever seen a human before and then were captured.

  ‘So is that why so many of the Barmah brumbies have white markings, because of their Clydesdale heritage?’ Katie asked.

  ‘Clever girl,’ Penny said, laughing. ‘That’s exactly right. It’s also part of the reason many of them have a solid bone structure, with nice big feet and such calm temperaments.’

  ‘So why do so many people want them gone from here?’ Poppy asked. ‘Are they doing that much damage? I mean, how many even live here?’

  ‘Poppy, the truth is that some people believe they’re a pest because of the native plants they could be trampling. And those same people say there are three hundred horses living in this forest, even though any local will tell you it’s more like one hundred.’

  They rode through the forest, dropping down to single file when the track became narrow, and eventually Penny stopped talking and they walked in silence. It was nice just listening to the chatter of birds above and the occasional neigh of a horse from behind, and Poppy leaned down to give Crystal a quick cuddle. Eventing was amazing, and she loved the excitement of racing around the cross-country and showjumping courses, but being in the saddle and going for a long trail ride in the country was just as fun.

  Poppy sat back up and was about to ask Penny whether they would go back the same way they’d come, when a movement up ahead caught her eye. Her heart started to pound. She tugged lightly on her reins, speechless as she stared ahead.