The Final Scream
Published by GHC • Mar 5th, 2010 • Category: Fiction, March for Wild Horses
Toppyrocks, age 13
The noise started softly, like rain hitting the ground. Then it grew to sound like a distant thunder, then, a roar that filled the air for miles around. Suddenly a giant mass of brown, black and white came over the ridge. The mass was a group of terrified mustangs, running for their life. Just moments later, a helicopter came over the ridge chasing the already exhausted mustangs. The helicopter never tired. Mustangs did. They were coated in sweat despite the winter air. The helicopter never stopped chasing the mustangs, even the youngest, the sickest or the oldest horses. Even the mighty stallions feared for their lives, forgetting all else.
They ran on and on, sweating and panting, with their nostrils flared. They ran over another ridge to see a maze of fences and pens. Other horses called from within the pens, warning them away. The mustangs slowed, not wanting to get any closer. But they had to keep going, the helicopter was right on their heels. They got close to a chute when the mustangs panicked. They fought with all they had, but could not beat the ropes.
Slowly, one by one, they gave up, quickly being pushed into pens. Mares squealed and neighed as their foals were pulled away. Stallions screamed challenges while they were separated from their mares.
Later, once the moon began to rise, an old stallion sank to his knees, exhausted and worn down. A mare neighed to him from another pen, concerned. With a snort, he collapsed onto his side and took his last breath. Another horse came up to sniff him to find that his friend was gone.
The sun was up and the horses were waking up to find that the humans were still there. Startled, they huddled together, fearing the worst. Yells started from all around the pens, scaring the mustangs out of their pens and into more chutes. Fighting, they resisted moving. Still the ropes and shouts won once more.
Separated into even smaller groups, they were pushed into trailers. Trailer after trailer pulled away, taking all the wild mustangs away from their birthplace, their land, their families, their home. The trailers finally disappeared from sight and all was quiet once more.
Then, a scream echoed. It echoed on and on, warning other mustangs to stay away. But it was too late. The last of the mustangs were gone from this land and others, maybe forever.
Mustangs still roam free, but every day more are rounded up. We, as a human race, can’t let this happen. SAVE THE MUSTANGS!
Images: BLM Photo Library
Champion explanation.. that’s what i incorporated into my poem ‘Only an Echo’ that if this roundup keeps continuing.. they may decide we don’t need any more horses on the rage at all. To many the serve no purpose at all other than eating up the grass that could be used for cattle.
~HF
Awesome Toppyrocks, you really described the mustangs’ capture and roundup well! LOVE the pictures LeadMare! (especially the first and last ones)
Wow, great job. It makes people want to do something. I really enjoyed reading it and it was very well written. And, sadly, probably accurate. Great job!
That was amazing! A short but sad and solem story that only begins to touch the pain and fear and cruelity of rounding up mustangs! I understand population control and all but trying to kill a WHOLE species?
oh, that was so sad. The final scream…wow. I almost cried. This is so sad. I don’t like to think about it. It makes me want to fight. But the story was great. And the pics were awesome.
That was brilliant! I love your style, and how deeply I could feel your feelings that you incorporated into this poem. Wicked awesome job, please please please keep it up, Toppyrocks! You are a brilliant writer, and it is amazing to see what all of us can do when we band together to help protect the animals that we love!
So sad, poor beautiful horses. I’d love to give one of those horses a home, but I don’t have any land. I saw a horse auction once that was terrible like this- a lot of the horses were skin and bone. :[
This really discribed the capture of the Mustangs. It’s sad the not everyone thinks the same way we do; but it’s reality and with all these poems, blogs, and stories, who knows? Maybe they will start to understand what we mean and return the Mustangs much deserved freedom. Nice job! :)
~WesternMare
I wrote it after I read a bunch of the websites from the links on here. Don’t worry mustang23. I was nearly crieing when I wrote it. I was soo angry… I’m glad you liked it! I didn’t do any editing to it.
Oh my gosh, that hurt :-( You did a really great job. I really felt what you were saying, which is sad in a way I guess. Again, great job
[Nevada Sunshine]
Oh and thanks so much for the photos!! I wasn’t even expecting one, but 4? Those are great! Thanks for whoever got them and thanks for the nice comments!
Wow, this was great Toppyrocks! Got tight in the chest, you know how to stir up emotions.