The Roar of the Falls: My Journey with Kaya

I am determined that we’ll both get this, the horse and me. I continue to try to mount the horse, over and over, until my arms ache. When we stop to rest, Kaya admires that I’m a hard worker. My face, legs, and arms are caked with dust and I’m panting. Kaya’s world is full of hard, physical work. Kaya seems used to it, but I’m hot and tired! I’d love a cool shower in an air-conditioned bathroom right about now.

I tell Kaya that I really want to train the horse. Kaya notes I haven’t given up yet. Kautsa says Kaya would be better at some tasks if she were more patient. I confess that sometimes I feel impatient, especially when something doesn’t come easily to me. But if I try to focus on what I’m doing and not think about anything else, the impatience goes away.

Kaya responds that her thoughts seem to fly around like swallows, darting from one worry to the next. I show Kaya that when I need to calm down, I close my eyes and take five long, slow breaths, inhaling and exhaling evenly. Kaya tries it while the herd stamps and shifts around her, her shoulders slowly loosening with each breath. When she opens her eyes, she admits it worked, and a small, surprised smile crosses her face.

I smile. It feels good to be able to help Kaya—I’m glad she needs me, too. And I’m glad I wasn’t afraid to work with the horses. I turn around, eager to see if Squirrel has noticed. But I can’t find him anywhere. Kaya can’t find him either. Where has he disappeared to?

Kaya calls out for Squirrel, but there is no answer. And no one else is close enough to realize he’s gone. Then, I see a stand of juniper trees mysteriously shaking, their branches rustling in a way that has nothing to do with the wind. We let the black-and-white filly go back to the herd and creep over to the branches. Squirrel is there behind the trees with a gray horse. The gray horse has a rope halter on. Squirrel is yanking on it and saying something in a very angry voice to the horse.

Kaya says it seems like the horse refuses to move. Squirrel yanks hard at the halter, but the gray mare sets her feet firmly and raises her head high. Kaya winces visibly beside me. They’re not supposed to touch the horses disrespectfully. Squirrel tugs her head back and forth, and the horse snorts and flattens her ears against her skull. Dark rivulets of sweat track down her shoulders to her heaving chest.

Squirrel demands that she move and slaps the horse hard on the shoulder with the loose end of the rope. I tell Kaya we need to get Toe-ta right away. Kaya says no. She’ll try to talk to Squirrel first.