He wondered about hunting from the back of Hold On. Would any of the other horses let him ride? It seemed unlikely. He could always build a snare, although once by mistake he had caught a ghost owl or omo owl. They were called ghost owls because of their white faces and were considered bad luck. The chieftain ordered him to kill it, but instead he had set it free. Luckily, the snare had not broken its wing.
Tijo heard the hoot of the owl again. He felt his body become uncommonly still, and he was overwhelmed by a strange sensation, as if his own spirit was slipping from him.
They will call that ga in times to come.
Tijo looked around. Someone, something had spoken. He saw his own sleeping form beneath him. Do I wake or sleep?
You are awake. The voice came from the branch.
Then he saw the pale, heart-shaped face of an omo owl. A ghost owl.
I am not a ghost, the owl replied. Nor are you. We are anything but ghosts.
What are we, then?
We are long spirits. Time weavers. We weave between the oceans of time like the shuttle of Haru’s loom. We see the cloth of the future and that of the ancient past. The owl paused. Like him. He spun his head and appeared to flip it upside down. It almost made Tijo dizzy, but he saw what the owl was indicating. There was a tiny horse flickering in the night. First Horse, the dawn horse. He is the one who leads the herd, the owl said.
But who is ga?
Ga is not a who, but it is part of Hoole. Yet Hoole has not yet happened. Hoole has not yet hatched.
What is to come in the future? Tijo asked.
Oh, we are in the before of the long after. And the tiny horse, he was before the before in the first dawn of the horses.
And you see this?
I see it all and so will you, horse boy.
Those words — horse boy — rang like chimes in his mind and stirred Tijo’s heart. Horse boy. I am Horse Boy and not Lame Boy!
A cold wind snapped the air. Arriero and Verdad had been traveling in an amiable silence as they scouted for a water source.
“I hope we find a stream soon,” Arriero said.
“I hope we don’t find a cat. Winter’s coming and the meat eaters need to fatten up,” Verdad replied.
Suddenly, a frantic screech ripped through the stillness. Sky, who had been trotting ahead, came charging down a slope and rushed up to them.
His one blue eye refracted a light of pure terror. “Bobcat!” he said with a shrill whinny. “Run!”
Minutes later they arrived at the encampment where the rest of the herd was resting. Panting, Sky reported what he had seen.
“We should leave immediately,” Estrella said. “We’ll go back to that last spring where we drank.” She blinked as the herd suddenly broke into a wild gallop. She took off after them. She was the fastest runner and was soon catching up with them and then cut out to circle in front. But there was no joy to this gallop. Running felt all wrong. They had finally started moving north toward the sweet grass. They could not retreat from every threat or they’d never make it.
Skidding to a halt and rearing, she bellowed:
“No!”
The horses bumped up against one another. Hold On, with Tijo riding, and Yazz were toward the back of the herd.
“We must hunt him down,” Estrella continued. “Or he will hunt us.”
Arriero seemed taken aback by this swift decision, by the filly’s boldness in the face of danger. “Yes,” he said quickly. “I was thinking the same thing myself. I was about to suggest it before the rest of you broke away.”
Estrella let it go. She was used to this stallion’s ways. She was not going to take time to dispute him. She turned instead to Tijo.
“I have seen you working on a blade.”
“Yes, I have a spear with a very sharp blade. It’ll be good for bringing down a bobcat.”
“You have nothing!” Bobtail said. “You will be a hindrance. It is time for the human to be left behind.” He paused. “It is for your own good.”
“We need the boy,” Hold On said. But his words were drowned out by the squabbling horses.
Tijo felt his heart contract. Estrella smelled this fear, not the fear of a bobcat but the fear of an orphan.
“Let him stay!” Estrella whinnied loudly.
“No!” roared the three stallions, Bobtail, Grullo, and Arrierio.
I am their leader, Estrella thought. And this is not the time to wait, to pause, but the time to go first. Go First — the words were radiant in the filly’s mind.
“He shall stay and he shall ride me!” Estrella said. A hush fell on the herd. “We will hunt the beast together.”
Hold On was as stunned as the rest of the horses, but he knew that Estrella’s move was brilliant. She was a true leader. The leader of this herd. Tijo slid down from Hold On and jumped lightly onto her back.
Six days’ journey away, El Miedo had finally fallen into a restless sleep. He dreamed of horses — horses he had lost, horses he must find. The land was vast and to conquer it, he needed horses. It was not just the land itself he dreamed of conquering, but the people — the Chitzen to the south and those to the north. His scouts had reported bands of people on the move. He knew they had never seen horses, and when they did, they would think he was a god.
“I need horses,” he muttered in his sleep. “Thank the Virgin I did not lose the Noble One.” Something stirred in his tent. El Miedo blinked. A figure loomed before him, misty except for a smear of burnished gold, and it seemed to be bowing to him.
“Indeed, Your Majesty. Thank the Virgin the noble horse is so loyal and did not flee the night the mule kicked down the fencing.”
El Miedo opened his eyes wide. Was this a person or a creature? It wore what seemed to be a crown, but it had the tilted green eyes of an animal — a perro zorro, the dog fox! It now reared. “What do you want?” El Miedo asked in a trembling voice.
“The question is, what do you need?”
“Horses. I need horses.” Was this figure was a god or a demon? Did it matter? This was an opportunity not to be wasted. Of that he was sure.
“Oh, that we know, and of course you have the best of all the horses. I brought him to you.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
“But don’t you see you must think larger. What do you want? A kingdom? A crown? An empire?”
“Who are you?” El Miedo’s eyes narrowed. It was as if he knew this creature — a creature torn from the fabric of his dreams? Those dreams when he had first glimpsed El Noble?
“Some call me First Angry.”
“What should I do? I need horses to wrest a kingdom from the New World.”
A huge gust blew up, suddenly ripping a gash in the tent just above where El Miedo slept.
Look up to the sky,
Don’t ask me why.
Like the sailors at sea,
Find your way by the stars,
Don’t look to the earth.
’Taint no use. ’Taint no use.
Don’t stop and wonder why,
Don’t stop and even think,
Don’t stop to ask the way.
Let the horse stars be your guide
And then you shall abide,
There’ll be new horses waiting.
Just you see. Just you see.
Find your way by the stars
In the oceans of the sky,
For the stars never lie.
You’ll find your way,
Find your way.
Despite the cold, El Miedo was in a feverish sweat. He sank back on his rough pillow. Had he drunk too much of the firewater? Was this an illusion? But the dream creature had visited him before, and the stallion had followed shortly thereafter. Was it the same creature — the perro zorro — or was it a true devil? The priest slept in the tent next to his. Had the priest seen it? Surely if the priest had seen it, he would be roused. He turned his head toward the tent with the cross on top. He could hear the sonorous snores issuing forth. Sound asleep! H
e felt a tide of relief. But at the same time, there was an overwhelming stench. Was it the sulfurous stench of the hellfires? No, it was merely his own sweat! But I am not sick. Indeed he had never felt more powerful. And now the smear of burnished gold that had awakened him suddenly seemed to take the form of a golden crown. Not a coronet worn by the lower ranks but an emperor’s crown, and on top was a figure — the eagle of Castile studded with two tilting emeralds for eyes. His heart did stir as he gazed upon those emerald eyes, and the sweat poured from his brow, drenching his beard. He ran his fingertips across his brow, slick now, but the sweat was cool. Cool, he thought, like water from the baptismal font. I am blessed, blessed by this visitor.
Tijo immediately noticed the difference between riding Estrella and Hold On. There was a fluidity to her motion that must have stemmed from the fact that her vision was intact. She moved with more assurance, confidence. The bobcat was swift and had darted up a steep slope, but they were gaining on him. Tijo felt the power of the filly’s legs, the depth of her broad chest, and the immensity of that young pounding heart. He was vaguely aware of his own breath beginning to mesh with hers.
It was not as if he was guiding her. Their minds, their muscles, seemed to conspire to find the best track, the perfect speed for this hunt. There was a profound harmony building between them.
The way was rough and the land pitched down into one of the broad basins. The bobcat streaked ahead across the flat of the basin. The spots on his pelt became a smear. He was fast, but Estrella’s strides were longer. Tijo hoped the land would remain treeless. If there was a tree, the bobcat could climb it in a matter of seconds, and this would definitely give him the advantage. He needed to take this animal down in open space.
The bobcat was climbing the slope on the opposite side of the basin. Seconds later it reached the summit and turned, as if daring Tijo to hurl his spear. The bobcat had the advantage. Throwing a spear uphill was harder. Perhaps the bow would be better. But before Tijo could think, the bobcat had disappeared over the edge. They could hear the sliding cascade of small rocks on the other side. Estrella didn’t hesitate and took the distance to the summit in a single leap. The bobcat looked back in alarm at their sudden appearance. Good! Tijo and Estrella both thought.
They finally hit the flat terrain and could give chase in earnest. They were gaining on the cat. Again they were almost within range for the spear. The cat’s odor came off in thick waves. Tijo crouched on Estrella’s back, a stable position for launching the spear. But then the bobcat wheeled about. If there had been any fear in his eyes, it had vanished. The acrid smell, too, had vanished. The bobcat was attacking them, fangs bared. It was right under Estrella’s chest. It leapt and tore at Estrella’s shoulder. Blood slashed the air. Tijo dropped the spear and took his flint dagger from his belt. He was face-to-face with the large yellow eyes streaked with black. A fang slashed at his face. But Tijo felt nothing. He thrust out his knife as hard as he could. There was a crack and then an enormous spurt of blood as the cat collapsed under them.
It was over so quickly that both Tijo and Estrella were left in a daze. When he looked down and saw that the cat was truly dead, he unleashed a long quavering cry: “Haaaaaruuuuuu!”
Estrella kept up her running walk with blood still dripping from her shoulder as Tijo stared at the bloody knife he had just plunged into the bobcat’s heart. He felt blood from his own face dripping onto its handle. Estrella finally slowed and then stopped.
“A thick pelt on that one. You’ll be warm,” the horse said as Tijo slipped from her back.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“Just a scrape. How’s your face?”
Tijo broke into a smile. “Just a scrape.”
The rest of the horses had found some decent grass, but none were in the mood for grazing. They were too nervous. Tijo and Estrella had set off so quickly that, had the herd been tempted to follow, it was doubtful they would have kept up. And Hold On had cautioned them against going. “This is for the boy and the filly.” So they stood alert for any sign of their return. It was Hold On who first heard Estrella’s light, swift steps, then out of a swirl of dust, the two emerged.
“I see them! I see them!” Verdad whinnied.
“I smell blood,” Hold On said with a nervous snort.
“The blood of the bobcat!” Grullo said. “They got the cat.”
“And the blood of the boy and the filly!”
Tijo slipped off and ran to Hold On, pressing his bloody face to the horse’s.
“No! No. I am fine. We are both fine. We got the bobcat. Don’t worry. I know how to mend this,” Tijo said, pointing to his cheek and then to Estrella’s shoulder. “I just need Haru’s medicine kit.”
Luckily, there were several lengths of gut string he could use for stitching their wounds. The horses watched in amazement as Tijo washed his and Estrella’s torn flesh, then used a good dose of the toothache plant powder that Haru had ground to numb torn skin. “It will sting a bit at first, Estrella,” he said as he smeared it on the horse’s shoulder. “But soon you won’t feel anything.” As he waited for the numbness to set in, he threaded a thin bone needle with the deer gut. The horses gathered around closer and watched in wonder as Tijo poked the needle into the horse’s skin.
“I can’t believe it!” Verdad gasped. “She isn’t even flinching.”
“I don’t feel a thing,” Estrella replied.
“I saw a blacksmith do this once,” Grullo said. “A mare had cut herself on a nail in her stall, and the blacksmith sewed her up just as Tijo is doing.”
The procedure was soon completed.
“Now it’s my turn,” Tijo said. “But I am not sure how I’ll know where to stitch since I cannot see my own face.”
“We could try and tell you, dear. Sort of guide you,” Angela said, stepping close to him.
“Maybe,” Tijo replied uncertainly. However, the mare was quite close and he saw reflected in her eyes the branches of the piñon tree behind him. “Wait! I have an idea.” What had been the first thing that had astounded him when he met Yazz and then the other horses? It was their brilliant eyes in comparison to Hold On’s clouded ones. He had seen his own reflection in Yazz’s shining eyes that storm-torn night. And Estrella had the largest, darkest eyes of any of them. He turned to her now. The reflection of the face that looked back at him was older than he remembered.
“Estrella, come. Come close and be my mirror.”
The horses watched in awe as Tijo began the procedure he had just completed on Estrella on his own face. “Don’t blink,” he said playfully.
“I wouldn’t dare,” she replied. She watched as the needle poked in and out. The stitches were tiny, much tinier than the ones he had made for her.
Tijo felt as if he were slowly falling into the immense dark pools of the filly’s eye. As during the hunt, he could hear her heartbeats and she, he knew, could hear his. Two such different hearts in size and yet hearts that seemed to whisper the secrets of their souls. Tijo could see himself more clearly than ever before. And at the same time he could see Estrella more clearly. It felt like a merging of two spirits and he thought of the omo owl. Was Estrella a long spirit, too? As the question formed in his mind, he caught a glimpse of the tiny horse he had seen flickering in the night when he had first met the omo owl. First Horse, the omo owl had called him, or sometimes the dawn horse. Tijo’s hands worked skillfully. He felt nothing when he poked the needle in and out of his flesh. Was he stitching himself, binding himself to a deeper past? His skin was numb but he felt so alive. Yet he knew in the silence that enveloped them all that he was at last part of the herd — the first herd of the New World.
Tijo skinned the bobcat using his knife to separate the hide from the flesh. He was as delicate in his motions with the knife as he had been with the needle. The herd looked on in wonder as Tijo quietly went about his task. With each cut, the shadow of the bobcat that had hung over the herd receded. At first, there was just a sense of relie
f, but the relief soon gave way to a quiet elation and then an explosion of sheer happiness. Finally, Sky burst out with the question they were all wanting to ask.
“Will you ride me, Tijo?” Sky said, trotting in place as though he could barely contain his excitement. Tijo smiled to himself. It was the first time any member of the herd except Hold On and Estrella had ever called him by his name.
“No, me?” Verdad pushed ahead of the blue-eyed colt.
All the horses were clamoring now to be ridden by Tijo, and Tijo was as anxious to try riding them as they were to have him on their backs. He would show them when he mounted how the difference between human and horse dissolved. They would fuse into one being as he did with Hold On and with Yazz and with Estrella.
He rode Grullo first, and then Bobtail, followed by Sky and Verdad. Riding them was very different from riding Estrella. The others had been “broken” — a terrible word, Tijo thought. It was as if the ghosts of saddles and bits and bridles still haunted them. Once Tijo was on their backs, they moved differently.
Their hooves became tangled in the old gaits that Hold On had tried so hard to forget. But Sky, Estrella, and Verdad had never been broken, had never carried saddles or worn bits in their mouths. Nor had their heads been encased in bridles. When they galloped with him, it was different. He followed their lead, their instincts, and was barely aware of having to signal them at all.
A few days later, the horses were watching Estrella gallop ahead with Tijo perched on her back. He was standing upright. Corazón gasped. “Look how fast and smooth they go. They remind me of a shooting star, with Estrella’s pale coat and her black mane flaring out …”
“Like a comet?” Hold On asked. The other horses turned to look at him.
“Hold On, can you see that?” Angela asked.
“I can see a bit more each day. I cannot see them clearly, but I can feel their wind and I can hear the hoofbeats.”
“Look!” Grullo said in a startled voice. “What is the boy doing now?”