Amber watched the desert go by through the car window.
“Dad,” she said. “What’s there to do where we’re going besides camping?”
“A lot,” he replied. “We can go hiking. Tonight, we can sit by the fire and look at the stars. We’ll go to the visitor center, too.”
Amber was missing one of her riding lessons because of this trip. It didn’t sound worth it.
A Piece of History
The car pulled into the visitor center parking lot. Her dad led the way into the small building.
Exhibits lined the walls showing depictions of ancient life in the desert and pictures of the wild animals that lived here. But when Amber saw an exhibit with a picture of horses, she ran to it.
Amber studied the old black-and-white photo of a band of horses. They looked like bays and duns, with one white horse covered in dark spots.
Wild horses once numbered in the millions in the West, the placard read. Descendants of the original Spanish horses brought the New World, they roamed the desert for centuries.
She went on to read about how these horses had been killed over the years by the government and by men rounding them up for dog food. By the time they became protected by law in 1971, very few were left.
The herd in this area is known to be one of the more pure strains, going back to the original Spanish horses, the placard said. The last leopard-spotted horse was seen among these horses in the 1960s. Since that time, no leopard horses have existed among the wild ones. The gene for leopard coloring is believed to be lost forever among the Spanish Mustangs.
Amber stared at the spotted horse in the photo. He stood out against the darker horses in the band. His head was held high, and half of his striped mane fell to one side of his neck.
He’s beautiful, she thought.
The Sighting
Amber sat in front of the campfire her dad had built with the help of a couple who were camping next door in their RV. As she listened to them talk, she thought about what her riding lesson might have been like tomorrow if she weren’t stuck here in the desert. Would her instructor have let her ride Theodore, the big chestnut Thoroughbred?
Then she heard it. A snort. It came from behind a mound of large rocks just beyond the couple’s RV. Did she imagine it?
Amber got up and slowly walked toward the giant boulders. Then she heard it again.
Snort!
She stepped around to the back side of the rocks and stopped, not believing her eyes. About 20 feet away, she saw a horse. He was white with dark spots covering his entire body.
Snort!
He did it again, this time whirling in place and trotting off into the dark.
Amber froze. Did she really just see that? Or was it her imagination? She ran back to the campfire.
“Dad!” she yelled. “Dad! I just saw a horse! On the other side of the rocks!”
“Wow, that’s exciting,” he said, laughing and winking at the couple. “My daughter is obsessed with horses.”
“Dad,” Amber exclaimed in frustration. “I really saw one!”
“OK, Amber, I’m sure you did.” He went back to his conversation.
That night, Amber lay in her sleeping bag, replaying the image of the horse in her head. He was leopard spotted. The placard in the visitor center said all the leopards were gone. How did they miss this horse? And why was he by the campground?
She fell asleep thinking about him.
Follow the Leader
Amber’s dad had some activities planned for the next day. They went on a hike and collected colorful rocks along the trail. That night, he built another campfire, and the couple joined them again. Tired of listening to their conversation, Amber got up and walked back to the rocks.
She stepped around the back of the boulders and stopped. The horse was back and stood there, looking at her. His white coat stood out in the dark, his black spots shadowy as the night sky. She could see he was a stallion, and he held his head high.
They stared at each other for several seconds before the horse turned and began to walk away. Amber stood frozen watching him, not believing her eyes. He stopped and looked back at her, then turned around and came toward her. He held her eye for a moment, turned away, took a few steps, stopped, and looked back at her again.
He wants me to follow him, she thought.
The stallion walked ahead of her, careful not to let her get too far behind. Amber had no idea where she was going or why. She just knew she had to follow.
They walked for what felt like a long time. The moon was full, and she could see the desert around her in the pale light. The horse was leading her toward a large rock formation.
As they came closer to the cluster of huge rocks, Amber heard the thud of hoof beats. They were regular but frantic, like a horse trotting back and forth.
The stallion led her into the maze of boulders until she found herself surrounded by the huge stones. The hoof beats grew louder.
Then she saw her: a dark mare with a white frosted rump, pacing back and forth in front of a shallow ditch filled with large rocks. The mare was sweating and agitated.
Amber heard a tiny squeal. Peering beyond the mare into the ditch, she saw a small white form among the rocks. She walked closer to get a better look, and saw a little white colt covered in black spots. He was lying wedged between a cluster of stones, trapped between them. He looked weak from struggling.
How long had he been there?
Amber walked past the pacing mare and kneeled down beside the colt, touching his coat. It was soft and fuzzy, but cold and damp. The mare’s pacing grew more frantic, and she nickered. Amber looked up to see the stallion watching her, just beyond the ditch.
Amber began to pull on the rocks that trapped the baby, trying to drag them away, but they were too heavy for her. She strained as she grasped at them. She wasn’t strong enough to free him.
Rescued
Just as she started to panic, she saw a small light reflecting on the boulders near the entrance to the maze. It bounced up and down and grew stronger as it approached. She heard footsteps.
“Dad!” she yelled.
“Amber?” he replied, running toward her voice. “Are you all right?”
“We have to help this baby!” she cried. Her dad ran up to her. He looked at the foal and then at the pacing mare.
He kneeled down and rolled first one stone away and then another. The baby began to struggle as he felt himself being freed. When the last stone that pinned him was moved away, he clambered to his feet and staggered to the mare. She nuzzled him all over, nickering softly as he trembled beside her.
“That was incredible. Amber, how did you find him?”
“He brought me here!” she said, pointing in the direction of the stallion. But the horse was gone.
“Who?”
“The spotted stallion,” Amber said, looking in every direction for him. “He was just here!”
“I don’t see him,” her dad said. “But I believe you. I followed both your prints to find you.”
Amber looked around, trying again to find the stallion. The mare was walking off into the desert, her colt close by her side.
“I don’t understand what happened here,” Amber’s dad said.
She smiled.
“I think I do, Dad. I think I do.”
This short story titled “The Spotted Stallion” appeared in the March/April 2024 issue of Young Rider magazine. Click here to subscribe!
