They were hugging the outside perimeter of the complex, about to turn onto a track that ran out into the desert proper, when Rachel heard a car engine nearby. It was inside the fence, hidden by a thick layer of shade cloth. It wasn’t even particularly loud, and none of the other horses took any notice, but it startled Paruku and Jalka, who were always more sensitive than the domestic horses. Paruku shied violently, flinging Rachel to one side. She lost both her stirrups and almost fell.
Beside them, Jalka fought for her head and backed up. Paruku reared and Rachel was so busy trying to get back into the saddle that she couldn’t pull him up. With a wild neigh he plunged forwards, pulling the reins from her grasp, and bolted.
Within seconds Paruku was galloping at full speed, straight along the track out into the desert. Rachel clung to the saddle, trying desperately to get her feet back into the stirrups and praying that he wouldn’t stop to buck.
Moisture streamed from her eyes at the force of the wind, and the reins flapped uselessly. Rachel was shocked at how fast he could go. She’d only ridden him at a canter before. She could feel his muscles bunching and releasing, and the tattoo of his hooves was so fast she couldn’t distinguish the beats. She had no idea how far he would run, or how they’d find their way back.
She thought of Rapscallion. Her steady pony had bolted with her a number of times, including when she was riding him bareback, and she’d learned how to hold on.
She blinked, and looked ahead. Paruku’s mane was whipping in the wind, and ahead of them the empty desert stretched out as far as she could see.
Rachel felt a sudden rush of exhilaration. It was just her and Paruku, galloping, with no one to stop them. She leaned forwards, and found the lost reins, but she didn’t try to pull him up. It was probably the only time she’d ever ride him like this.
The tears streaming out of her eyes weren’t only from the wind now. Tomorrow they were leaving. Tomorrow she had to say goodbye to Paruku forever.
This wild gallop was theirs.
He stretches out his legs and feels the pleasure of galloping with no fence ahead and nothing to stop him. Hair-of-Fire is on his back and somehow she understands. He can feel her leaning forwards, encouraging. He can feel that she too loves this sensation.
The rhythm of his legs is hypnotic; he could run all day, on and on into the desert. It is unfamiliar and yet familiar, as though he does know it somehow. The sand is different from what he knew, but the feeling of it under his hooves is right. The air is right on his skin. The light is right to his eyes. He knows this place. He senses this is his life now.
And Hair-of-Fire feels right on his back. When he blinks, he seems to see robes flapping behind her, though he knows she isn’t wearing them. He seems to feel red tassels hanging down his sides and from his bridle, and he senses long black hair streaming out behind her. Then he blinks again, and the image is gone. There is just desert ahead, beginning to shimmer as the sun warms up, and Hair-of-Fire on his back.
He slows a little, his breath coming in deep grunts, his shoulders dark with sweat. He feels his hooves sinking into the sand, and the shift of her weight on his back as she sits up straighter. But still she does nothing to stop him. She lets him slow down of his own accord, into a canter and then to a trot, and eventually walking to a halt.
He stands still, nose outstretched to the horizon. She slides off his back and stands by his neck, her face pressed into his coat, her hand stroking his shoulder. Every part of him feels alive. He flares his nostrils and takes in the familiar smell of her. He nickers, deep in his chest.
She pats him, stands back, gathers the reins and mounts. Without her order he turns in the direction of the stables. In the distance he can see the other horses cantering towards them. He is coming to know their scent. He lifts his head to greet his new herd.
Chapter 16
Rachel zipped her suitcase shut and stood it on its wheels. The driver took it from her with a smile and carried it out to stow it with the others in the trunk of the limousine.
Everyone else was waiting outside, but Rachel stood still and looked around the little bedroom that had been hers for a fortnight.
She’d gone over to say goodbye to the horses in the pre-dawn darkness. She needed to be alone for that. She had gone into the enclosure and stood for a long time with her arms around Paruku’s neck, talking to him softly. It was even harder now to leave him. She felt as if her heart would break.
Marjii had interrupted the moment, skipping up to her and shoving his little nose under her arm until she was forced to let go of Paruku and scratch the foal. She couldn’t help laughing at him through her tears, as he skittered away and cantered down the length of the enclosure, then flicked his ears and his little tail and trotted back for another scratch. She gave Marran a long hug and stroked her neck too, then climbed through the railings out of the enclosure. Rachel was determined she wouldn’t turn back.
But then Paruku had nickered after her. She swung around and went back for one final pat. She put her face down close to his nostrils and blew at him, and he nuzzled her, and blew back. Then she had turned and run, trying not to sob out loud.
‘Rachel!’ her mother’s call interrupted her memory. ‘It’s time.’
Rachel grabbed her backpack, pulled down her sunglasses to hide her red-rimmed eyes, and went out. Ali was standing there with her family, waiting to bid them farewell.
‘And here she comes,’ he said, as she joined them. ‘Are you ready, Rachel?’
She shrugged and nodded, not trusting her voice. It had been strange enough going home from the Kimberley, but Armidale truly felt a world away now. She could hardly imagine returning to school and to riding her little pony around the paddock. She couldn’t ever go back to being the girl she was at the start of this whole adventure.
‘The Sheik is sorry that he wasn’t able to meet you on this trip and sends his deepest gratitude for your work in capturing and caring for the brumbies and bringing them all this way,’ Ali said. ‘He says he’s sure these horses will make Australia proud of them, and for our part, we will do everything we can to care for them.’
He shook hands with Mike and bowed his head to Helen and Cassie, thanking each of them individually. Then he turned to Rachel.
‘And for you, Rachel, who holds the brumbies in her heart, the Sheik has a gift.’
Rachel pushed back her sunglasses and stared up at Ali. She didn’t dare to hope …
‘I know that you love Paruku. But he will be an endurance horse, and he must stay here for his training,’ Ali said.
Rachel felt her heart sink. She bit her lip to stop it wobbling.
Ali put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Paruku’s son, Marjii, might also grow up to be an endurance horse. But he can’t begin his training until he’s four years old, no matter how promising he is. So the Sheik would like to send him back to you in Australia when he’s ready to leave his mother. If you accept, you can care for him and give him a foundation for his later training. He can come back here when he’s old enough.’
Rachel looked at her mother and father. ‘Can I?’
Ali smiled down at her. ‘It was your father’s idea, Rachel. Only you must promise not to geld him. We want a brumby stallion for breeding.’
Rachel turned around to her father. He was looking at her with such love she felt fresh tears starting. She had been really hard on him. It was true: he’d done everything possible to care for Paruku and all the horses.
‘Thanks, Dad,’ she said. Then, very quietly, ‘Sorry.’
Mike grinned, relief beaming out of his face. ‘Me too, mate.’
Ali coughed. ‘There’s one more thing. The Sheik would like to ask you a favour, Rachel.’
‘Me?’ Rachel asked in surprise.
‘You,’ Ali said firmly. ‘Your school holidays are in the Australian summer, which coincides with our winter. That’s the best training season for us, and the time we run our own endurance races. The brumbies from Australia sho
w a lot of promise, Rachel, and so does the rider from Australia. We would be honoured if you would consider coming back to us in your school holidays. If you want to be an endurance rider in the future, we can help you train for it. If not, we would still value your skills as a horsewoman, working with the brumbies in their training. You have a natural affinity with them.’
Rachel felt as though she was several inches taller. ‘Do you really mean it?’
‘Yes.’ Ali winked at her and his face relaxed into a smile.
‘We have to go,’ Helen said. ‘We’ll be late for the plane.’
Rachel stepped forwards and threw her arms around Ali. It was like stepping into a cloud as his white robes billowed around her. He grunted in surprise and then hugged her back.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured.
‘Now go, Rachel,’ he said, and stepped back. ‘We hope to see you in January, and we will send Marjii to you when he is a yearling.’
Rachel backed away, turned, and ran to the car. She jumped in next to her father and pulled the door shut. The driver revved smoothly and they started down the long sandy driveway.
Rachel turned back to wave at Ali through the rear window. He stood in the centre of the driveway, his hand raised, waving at them.
‘An endurance rider, eh?’ Cassie said, and Rachel thought she heard a note of pride in her sister’s voice. ‘Well, well, well. Looks like I’ll have to find another strapper.’
Rachel ran her hand along the car seat until it was touching her father’s. He turned his palm over and she gripped his big, calloused hand and held it hard.
‘I’m proud of you, Rach,’ he said.
‘I’m proud of you too, Dad.’
He pulled her close and they hugged. Then Rachel slid back to the window and looked out. The desert was streaming past outside, white and brilliant, as big as the whole world. And somewhere it held two bay horses with white stars on their foreheads, keeping them safe until she could return.
After you read this book …
The brumbies in this story, including Paruku, Marran and Marjii, are descended from Arabian and thoroughbred horses that were released in the East Kimberley in the 1950s and 1960s to improve the quality of stockhorses on the Lake Gregory Pastoral Station, which is now the Paruku Indigenous Protected Area.
Thirteen brumbies were captured from the Paruku Indigenous Protected Area in 2008 by Alan Post, an Australian vet who worked for the Sheik, with help from a team of men from the Mulan community. One of the brumbies, Marran, gave birth to the foal Marjii after being caught. The fourteen horses travelled across the country to Glen Innes, near Armidale in New South Wales, where they were broken in before being flown to their new home in Dubai.
The brumbies began their new lives in the racing stable of the Deputy Ruler of Dubai, Sheik Hamdan bin Rashid Al Maktoum, a keen rider and horse owner who has won two Melbourne Cups. Under the care of racing manager Ali Mohammed Al Mohairi, the horses went into training and today most of them are still working in the stable and competing in endurance races. Some of the brumbies who didn’t work out as endurance horses have gone to other homes; Marran became a riding horse for the Sheik’s sister.
Libby Lovegrove from Wild Horses Kimberley lives in Broome and works to protect the brumbies. The Paruku Rangers from Mulan community who helped Alan Post catch the brumbies are real, but their actual names have not been used in this book. Rachel, Mike, Helen and Cassie are all fictional characters.
About the brumbies
The fourteen brumbies that were captured and sent to Dubai are:
The bay stallion — Paruku
The bay stallion — Tanami
The grey stallion — Tinjil (the white coolibah that grows around the lake)
The brown stallion — Luka (the lake mud that is rubbed on people so the lake serpent can recognise them)
The grey stallion — Malarn (the river red gum that grows around the lake)
The steel-grey stallion — Jaarni (the hakea, which is also a Dreamtime being who went into the lake)
The dark grey mare — Kurrkali (brolga)
The grey mare — Kipara (bush turkey)
The light grey mare — Jalka (great egret)
The chestnut mare — Malu (kangaroo)
The chestnut mare with foal — Marran (dingo)
Marran’s foal — Marjii
The bay filly — Timana (horse)
The bay filly — Kirrkirr (kestrel or brown falcon)
Thank you
I first read about the Kimberley brumbies (including Paruku and Marran) and their journey to Dubai in an article in the Sydney Morning Herald in 2009. When I tried to track down the horses and their story, I made contact with Libby Lovegrove from Wild Horses Kimberley. Libby was instrumental in helping me organise a trip to Paruku, including lending me camping gear, talking about the horses and showing me where to go. She has answered numerous questions while I’ve been writing this book.
Thank you to the traditional owners from Mulan community for permission to visit Paruku. James Brown, the head ranger of the Indigenous Protected Area (IPA), answered many questions about the horses, explained the challenges of managing their presence in the lake’s fragile ecosystem and looked at the manuscript. Thank you also John Griffiths, who was then working in the IPA and assisted with arrangements and provided information, and Kim Mahood, who helped with the process of checking the manuscript.
My trip to Paruku wouldn’t have been possible without the help of Seja, who happened to be in the Kimberley with a four-wheel-drive vehicle and camping equipment, and generously took me out to the lake.
Alan Post from Glen Innes discussed the capture of the horses with me at length, answered numerous questions, and sent me video footage of the capture of Paruku.
Ali Mohammed Al Mohairi kindly gave permission for me to visit the Seih Al Salam Stables in Dubai. I am grateful to Shannon Parker, who helped arrange my visit. Stable manager Takhat Singh guided me around the stables and introduced me to the brumbies still living there, and the riders who worked with them. Cassandra Haddad made my trip to Dubai possible and was a most generous host and companion.
I am indebted to the beautiful book Desert Lake: Art, Science and Stories from Paruku by editors Steve Morton, Mandy Martin, Kim Mahood and John Carty (CSIRO Publishing, 2013) for its blending of traditional and other ways of understanding and being present with Paruku.
Thanks to my agent Sophie Hamley and publisher HarperCollins, particularly Lisa Berryman, Kate Burnitt and Cristina Cappelluto.
And thanks to my partner, Andi Davey, who came to Paruku with me and is eternally grateful that I finally wrote a book set in the desert rather than in Antarctica.
About the author
Jesse Blackadder was a horse-mad kid. She wanted to be a vet from the age of five, but ended up becoming a writer. She lives near an extinct volcano in northern New South Wales, and shares her very big garden with a water dragon called Kinky, a koala called Blinky, a python called Slinky and lots of other wild creatures. This photo shows Jesse meeting the brumby Timana in Dubai. Jesse is also the author of Stay: The Last Dog in Antarctica.
Copyright
The quote here is taken from Elyne Mitchell’s The Silver Brumby, first published in 1958.
The ABC ‘Wave’ device is a trademark of the
Australian Broadcasting Corporation and is used
under licence by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia.
First published in Australia in 2014
This edition published in 2014
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Jesse Blackadder 2014
The right of Jesse Blackadder to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be rep
roduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:
Blackadder, Jesse, author.
Paruku : the desert brumby / Jesse Blackadder.
ISBN: 978 0 7333 3179 4 (pbk)
ISBN: 978 1 7430 9821 9 (epub)
For primary school age.
Wild horses—Western Australia—Kimberley—Juvenile fiction.
Horse racing—United Arab Emirates—Dubayy (Emirate)—Juvenile fiction.
A823.4
Cover design by Christa Moffitt, Christabella Designs
Cover image by shutterstock.com
Author photograph by Cassandra Haddad
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