Tag Archives: night terrors

End of a Long Day

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Jesse – Robidoux Camp

Back in the day when free range mountain men traveled the vast open spaces and deep into the tall snow covered mountains things were not always glamourous. In fact it was a far cry from glamourous despite what the movies show.

It was often beyond cold or blisteringly hot. It was unbelievably difficult to get around and often just plain dangerous. One had to be constantly aware on a level we virtually never experience today. To stay alive took an enormous amount of effort and if you were out on the trail the way you kept safe was to stay awake and as alert as if your life depended on it, because it did.

There was a certain amount of safety in being a part of a group as there were more eyes to keep watch and you could post a guard at night so you could get some rest. Maybe. Because as you know if you’ve ever spent a night in the wilderness with nothing more than a campfire to keep the terrors at bay, there are things that go bump in the night and do not have your best interests at heart.

You could be weary and tired beyond reckoning but you still had your job to do and you did it because you had no other choice. This was your life and even at the end of a long day you wouldn’t trade it for any other.

Night Terrors

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The herd had moved back into the low rolling hills surrounding the shallow water hole keeping just below the ridgeline and bunching up with the foals inside the outer ring for safety. They didn’t have many enemies but once in awhile a grey wolf down out of the McCullough Peaks range just to the North would take a run at a new foal so they were constantly on the alert. The wolves were over from the Yellowstone area to the West and although the pickings were good there once in a while an outcast or a young male looking for a mate would find his way over and young horse flesh was a real treat if he could manage it.

The herd stallions and there were three with this bunch were nervous, constantly checking the sky and smelling the air. Their ears forward, nostrils flared, seeking any sign of danger, constantly shifting and circling the mares who were bunched as tight as they could be, keeping them as centered as they could in case they had to be moved suddenly.

The skies had that leaden gray look, the clouds filled to the brim with water and pent up energy. Dry lightning had been flashing off in the distance and that made the herd nervous and skittish. Prairie fires racing along ahead of the wind had caught an unwary horse or colt before and the mares were concerned for the new foals who didn’t have the stamina to keep up if they had to run.

The storm had held off throughout the afternoon but suddenly broke with a furious violence right after darkness had set in. A lightning strike in the center of the herd was all it took for the herd to ignite into movement and scatter to the four corners, mares racing off into the darkness in all directions with their foals in tow, the stallions frantically trying to keep the group together, but it was a lost cause for the moment. Total fear and self preservation taking over all thoughts of herd discipline were gone. In its place was only the thought of getting away from the nearest dangers, a reaction to the night terrors that were a constant part of their lives on the open plains.