Saving the Snowy Brumbies

by Kelly Wilson

  I slowly started scratching her, and rather than reacting by jumping away, Shyla lowered her head and froze. Carefully I inched closer and soon I was able to stroke her neck as well. I was impressed with her relaxed attitude but slightly concerned about her lowered head, so backed away, crouched down and waited. The quietest wild horses are often the most easily misinterpreted; I knew how important it was to make sure that Shyla was actually mentally ready for everything I asked of her. I focused on getting her looking at me again rather than me touching her, so that when she was ready she could initiate the next contact. After a short while she stretched out her muzzle and bumped it against my hand — this was a huge milestone and I rewarded her with both my voice and a handful of hay. A few minutes later she stepped towards me again and, gradually, over the next half an hour, I was able to touch her on both her head and the left side of her neck without her lowering her head. It wasn’t long before I got her haltered.

  Meanwhile, Amanda was having no issues with Ballarat — the mare hadn’t forgotten a thing from the day before. Amanda was able to touch her on the head again, as well as on the neck and shoulders. Rather than haltering Ballarat, Amanda simply looped a rope around her neck and taught her to lead. Although Ballarat was bold and confident, she would sometimes remember that humans were supposed to be scary and jump away, almost as if she was shocked by her own boldness. Her sassy personality was already starting to shine through, and Amanda affectionately nick-named her Brat.

  Amanda and Ballarat making friends.

  Shyla haltered and standing to be patted on the head on our third day of handling — a huge milestone for her.

  CHAPTER 4

  Slow and Steady

  After hours of patience, Arana stepped up onto a raised bridge.

  Shyla quickly came to enjoy our time together.

  During her first led adventure, Arana jogged the entire way, sidestepping past anything she perceived as scary.

  The following morning, day four, we again repeated many of the same lessons and decided that our Brumbies were ready for their first big adventure. One at a time, we led them out of the yards; first into a laneway and then, once each horse was confident turning and stopping on the lead, down the driveway to a large paddock.

  Shyla was first. I was careful to keep her in a contained area until I was sure that she would remain with me. Although the whole property was fenced, and I was sure I could catch her if she got loose, it’s always best to avoid unnecessary stress on the horses — we wanted this first adventure to be a positive experience so that the horses would associate their time with us as being fun. Alexa opened the gate into the driveway and we slowly inched our way past parked trucks, tractors, feed pallets and a whole assortment of scary things spilling out of a shed we had to walk past. Shyla was very unsure and hesitant, but she kept walking, crouched low behind me. When we turned through the second gate into the paddock she was clearly relieved, obviously glad that the scariest part was behind her. For the next half an hour we stood quietly, Shyla eventually feeling confident enough to nibble on the sparse grass.

  Feeling chilled in the cold winter weather, I was about to head back to the yards when I saw Vicki leading Arana along the driveway. It was also the mare’s first time out of the yards, and she danced at the end of the lead, spooking as she passed our ute and then stepping sideways as Vicki continued on. Alexa walked quietly over to join her, ready in case Vicki needed a spare set of hands. Once they were out of sight, I opened the paddock gate to lead Shyla back to the yards. As Arana was very easily distracted, I thought it would be safer to only have one of the wild Brumbies out in the open at a time, in case they gave each other a fright and got loose. Leading Shyla back to the yards proved to be a little more challenging, though. At the paddock gate she turned the wrong way, trying to follow in the direction Vicki and Arana had gone. Applying pressure to the rope I asked for her attention, but instead of following me she edged backward and reared, still turning towards the trees. Once she settled down, I gave her time to think things over, then again asked her to turn towards the yards; this time she followed quietly.

  Having put Shyla back in her yard, I watched Amanda working with Ballarat, who was now haltered and leading easily. She was ready to head out to the paddock, but we wanted to wait until Arana was also safely back in her yard. I headed off in search of the others; it had been at least 30 minutes since they had passed me on the driveway and I was hoping nothing had gone wrong. When I reached the driveway I saw Alexa, Vicki and Arana coming towards me, and moved to the side to let them pass. As soon as the flighty mare saw me she snorted and sidestepped on her lead, trotting nervously as they drew closer. The girls stopped when they reached me and I asked how it had gone. Sighing, Vicki shook her head, then glanced over at the mare who was pacing behind her at the end of the long lead, full of tension at having so many people nearby. Not wanting to keep the upset mare there any longer, Vicki said she’d fill me in once they got her back to her yard. I slowly backed away to avoid startling the mare so that they could continue to pass. All the way, Arana was tense; her mind busy, unable to relax. Alexa and I watched from the driveway as Vicki rubbed Arana’s neck when they reached the yard, and unclipped the lead to set her loose. Arana immediately ran to the far fence and began pacing, not even settling when Vicki left the yard; she was upset by the fact that Amanda was leading Ballarat out into the laneway.

  Ballarat quietly followed Vicki and Amanda back to where we were standing and, unlike the older mare, she stood still as we chatted. It was obvious that Vicki was concerned about Arana; it was like her brain had been fried long before we’d ever set eyes on her. Everything she did reminded us of someone walking on hot bricks. Vicki also suspected that Arana was one of the oldest horses she’d worked with; if this was so, it would make her transition to domestication even harder. When asked if she had a game plan, Vicki shrugged and said that the only thing to help a horse like that was a lot of patience; she’d spend as much time as needed to get her quiet enough to look at her teeth so that we could find out her age.

  Eager to get moving, Ballarat tugged on her lead and Amanda followed, allowing the little mare to snatch a mouthful of grass in the driveway before leading her through the gate and into the paddock. She stepped through boldly, happy to explore, and Amanda let her graze a little before running around the paddock, laughing, as Ballarat trotted after her, playfully tossing her head. The mare was a cute wee thing and Amanda was thrilled with her, although still a little disappointed with her lack of height.

  Before long we returned Ballarat to her yard and headed inside to warm up, happy to spend the afternoon indoors; winter in Australia was much colder than we’d thought it would be! While Alexa and I worked at various things on our laptops, Amanda settled down to work on a book she was writing. Soon bored, Vicki headed back outside to see Arana. As the wind buffeted the cabin, we quickly lost track of time — then suddenly realised that hours had passed and Vicki still hadn’t returned. Worried, we headed outside to find her. When we got to Arana’s yard, there was Vicki, bundled up under layers of clothing, including a beanie and gloves, sitting reading a book. Arana had finally relaxed about an hour into Vicki sitting with her, but was unsettled again by our arrival and paced restlessly, watching us warily. Stiff and cold, Vicki slowly stood up and followed us to get hay and feed for the horses so that we could settle them before nightfall.

  The following day, we led Ballarat and Shyla out together, this time first exploring the paddock and then heading down to the woods and the lake behind the house. Both Brumbies were well behaved and enjoyed their adventure, and we were proud of how happily they were adjusting to their new experiences. On our return we saw Vicki sitting on the mounting block in the grass arena, holding Arana. The mare was standing still when we first caught sight of them, but as soon as Arana spotted us she began stressing, and stood shaking as we walked down the driveway, 50 metres away from her. It was incredible that just having people within s
ight — no matter how far away — affected the mare so much. Even people a few hundred metres away were enough to cause her stress, although she was significantly more relaxed around Vicki by then. One morning when Vicki led her out to graze in the paddock, Arana was startled by a person appearing in the distance and pulled loose, blindly bolting through two fences before she finally calmed down enough to be approached and caught. Fortunately she wasn’t injured, but it was worrying that her fear of people was so ingrained that it overrode her sense of self-preservation.

  Amanda and Ballarat out on an adventure.

  Alexa and Ranger navigating a log obstacle.

  Like Arana, Alexa’s gelding Ranger also had a deep fear of people. Watching Alexa work with him, we wondered just what the roan Brumby had been through. He was tense, and although he had clearly been messed up by someone in the past, he tried hard. Although he was very reactive, hard to catch and genuinely terrified of having people around, Alexa was seeing some improvement. Soon she was able to touch him over much of his body — as long as no one else was nearby; like Arana, he was much more relaxed if it was just him and Alexa. While it was good that the sanctuary had been able to take him back, it was unfortunate that he’d had six months without any handling — his fear of people was now well ingrained. It would take a long time to override it with positive experiences; a few weeks of good handling when he’d first returned might have been helpful. If anything went wrong in the future, there was a good chance he would default back to his current state: for this gorgeous roan Brumby, humans were simply not to be trusted.

  SIX DAYS AFTER WE’D ARRIVED IN AUSTRALIA, and on Alexa’s third time working with Ranger, she felt he was ready to be backed, her aim being to sit on him for the first time. We have often found that wild horses relax much faster once they have had a rider on, especially if most of their frights have happened with someone beside them on the ground. As she’d hoped, Ranger was very good to work with — with him in a halter but bareback, Alexa was able to jump up and down beside him and then lie over him before stretching out her legs and gently running them over his rump. Staying relaxed, he stood quietly, even with Colleen and the rest of us watching from behind the fence. After about 20 minutes of backing him, Alexa sat up on Ranger for the first time and then dismounted, before repeating the process a number of times. Pleased with how relaxed he’d been, Alexa dismounted one last time and set him loose. Instead of darting off, he stayed beside her while she scratched him; it was the most relaxed he’d been to date.

  Inspired by this example, Amanda and I took Shyla and Ballarat out for another adventure. In the home paddock a little way down the driveway, Colleen had set up logs, tyres and a bridge as obstacles, and we led the horses over everything. Again I was impressed by Shyla’s calm and sensible nature; there wasn’t much that fazed her and she was willing to try everything I asked of her. Even wearing a cover for the first time only took her minutes to get used to. I first held the cover out for her to sniff, then rubbed it along her neck before throwing it over her back. She was by far the quietest wild horse I had worked with. Ballarat was at exactly the same stage as Shyla, although she was slightly more on edge. She was bolder, braver and quicker at everything — and this meant that her reactions also tended to be more extreme. Ballarat was often distracted, and kept scaring herself when she went up to investigate something new. As both horses had made good progress we didn’t want to put them back in the yards, so set them loose in the paddock so that they could enjoy a larger area and some grass to nibble on overnight.

  Unlike Amanda and me, who were seeing daily progress with our horses, Vicki was on her third day of essentially doing nothing. For hours at a time, normally twice a day, she would catch Arana and lead her out to the arena, then sit on the mounting block nearby to read; even this was resulting in very little improvement. The mare still ran and paced every morning when she first saw people, cantering around her yard until she finally relaxed enough for Vicki to approach and catch her. Once caught, Arana stood quietly while Vicki brushed the mare’s head, neck, shoulders and upper back, but Vicki still couldn’t get close enough to her mouth to attempt to check her teeth. Arana had also started to show signs of stiffness, from spending so much time pacing. If this was due to old age, as Vicki believed, it would not be good for her physical and mental welfare to train her for the Brumby Challenge and sale by auction. In that case, Vicki was hoping that she would be able to swap Arana with a reserve Brumby.

  The next day Vicki endured six more hours of bitter cold, reading through her fourth and fifth books while sitting with Arana. The day before, we’d headed to town to get supplies and Vicki had picked up a whole collection of autobiographies to pass away the time with. Arana was gradually improving and would now stand within a foot of Vicki, often lowering her head and resting a leg while she dozed; but if another person, or even a vehicle, appeared within sight she would still back up on the lead and begin pacing, flicking an ear and snorting as she trembled with fear. Each time this happened, it would take a while for her to settle down and edge close to Vicki again.

  Ten minutes into the backing process, Alexa sits astride Ranger for the first time.

  Vicki’s first reading session with Arana, on our seventh day in Australia.

  This was one of the coldest days so far, with snow falling in the hills only 30 minutes away. As it was too cold to do much, Amanda and I headed out to the paddock to catch our Brumbies and take them for a hike. Ballarat was good at being caught, but Shyla dodged me for some minutes before I was able to clip a lead on her halter. After a light grooming, we put a surcingle on each of them and led them through the woods for an hour before taking them inside the shed to stay out of the bitter wind while we fed them. Neither of us knew how Vicki was able to sit outside in the cold for endless hours. When we asked her about it, she shrugged, saying that her options were limited and that time was the only way she could see a breakthrough happening with the traumatised mare.

  That afternoon, while Vicki continued to read with Arana, I worked with Shyla in the round yard. My aim was to improve her confidence about me approaching her so that she would be easier to catch in a paddock. Unclipping the rope, I turned her loose and set to work brushing her; each time I touched somewhere she wasn’t sure about, she had the freedom to move away. Over the course of an hour I was eventually able to brush most of her body with her standing quietly beside me, including her girth area, legs and the right side of her body which she previously hadn’t been comfortable with. Because she’d been able to move off whenever she was uncomfortable but return when she chose, I had essentially caught her many times during the session. By the end, I was able to remove her halter for the first time and catch her easily without it.

  The following day, after several hours of patiently reading, Arana was significantly more relaxed, although startled easily if others came into view.

  In the next paddock over, Amanda was leading Ballarat over various obstacles. Ballarat had always been happy to have her head touched, and of the three competition mares was the easiest to catch and halter. Amanda was very pleased with her little Brumby; of all the wild horses she’d trained, she was the proudest of Ballarat’s progress. Something Ballarat didn’t like, however, was having two people near her at once. She was very quick to react if she didn’t like something, and the first time Vicki tried to approach her while Amanda was holding her, the mare got very upset and rushed backwards. As Amanda wanted to have someone holding Ballarat when she taught the mare to pick up her feet and when backing her for the first time, Vicki and Amanda kept working with her until eventually she settled down and stood still while both of them patted her at the same time.

  I hadn’t planned on backing Shyla early, but on our ninth day I felt she was ready. Amanda came out to watch, setting up her tripod and camera to film the entire process. When I set to work, Shyla was startled by me jumping up and down beside her. Unsettled, she moved off and it took a few minutes before she would stand
again. Like most things, however, once Shyla had decided that something was okay she fully embraced it. She stood still with her ears pricked forwards (a sign of relaxation and interest) while I jumped up to lie over her back, letting her carry my weight. After repeating this a few times, I stretched my legs over Shyla’s rump and rubbed my hands all over her neck and shoulders, moving around to get her used to the weight and feel of a rider. Again she didn’t mind, so I dismounted, gave her a pat and repeated the process, then sat upright on her. Once again, she just stood there quietly; I sat still and enjoyed the moment, grinning. It had only been about 10 minutes since I’d first entered her yard and started working with her; she was the easiest to back of any horse, domestic or wild, that I had ever worked with.

  Amanda and Ballarat on the bridge for the first time on our seventh day in Australia.

  My first time backing Shyla, nine days from her wild state.

  CHAPTER 5

  Baby Brumbies

  Ben, one of the two-year-old Brumbies, defiantly rearing when asked to walk over a log.

  Alexa and Ruby finding fun obstacles to conquer around the property.

  Eden, one of the two-year-old Brumbies, working with Amanda.

  To keep busy, since we only had one horse each to work and they could only mentally and physically cope with between 20 and 90 minutes of work each day, we spent the next few days befriending many of the wild yearlings and two-year-olds at the Brumby sanctuary. Some had been saved from slaughter as babies; others had been born to mares currently competing in the challenge. Two, Tilly and Quiz, were the daughters of Arana and Shyla, and we loved seeing first-hand how these younger Brumbies shared so many of their mothers’ personality traits. Of all the nine youngsters we worked with, Shyla’s was the most thoughtful and relaxed; Arana’s foal had a decisive mistrust of people. Like her mother, Arana’s foal struggled to face anything that worried her, and she would often edge sideways and panic if asked to do something new.