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It had seemed like a good idea at the time, a brisk walk. The sky had been clear and the air crisp but now I was beginning to regret my first surge of enthusiasm as the rain came and grew steadily harder and harder. The wind was cutting like a scythe as I trudged across the quagmire-like field. I was still cursing softly at my foolishness when a black shape seemed to pause in the corner of my eye then vanish again. I turned to look but the fields were empty. No people, no birds, nothing. I dismissed it with a shrug; I had more to worry about now, as the rain had become a downpour, hanging over the countryside in a grey veil, the wind whipping it mercilessly across the open fields.

Deciding that it would be better to sit this out, I headed for a small coppice that crowned a nearby ridge. Stumbling through the outlying brambles, I took refuge under the gnarled, spreading boughs of an ageing oak tree and prepared myself for a long, cold wait. I was disturbed in my damp reverie by a sharp, crisp ‘SNAP’. It was the cracking of a smallish branch someway over to my left. Looking over, my eyes were confronted by an awesome sight. In the centre of a clearing stood a large black stallion. I shook my head in disbelief. It posed with statue-like perfection, the ebony blackness of its coat highlighted by the silver rivulets of raindrops. Fascinated, I approached. The animal showed no awareness of my presence, the only movement being the steady heaving of its chest and the thin wisps of breath curling serenely up from its flared nostrils.

I drew nearer and reached out a hand to touch. Without warning the beast gave out a scream-like neigh and reared up, the huge forelegs pawing the air. Then crashing down, the mighty hooves sent clods of clinging mud and stones flying about me. Terrified, I retreated back into the trees. The horse made to follow me, neighing and rearing. Frail branches flew about me as I scrambled over the clinging brambles, every turn and exit seemingly blocked by the coal black demon.

Driven further and further back I caught my leg in the exposed roots of a tree. I went down into the wet mat of leaves with a sprawling thud. I rolled over onto my back and tried to catch my breath. The horse had now become calm, too calm. With a quiet deliberation it drew closer and closer, with a measured, even step. Then in a graceful, almost balletic movement the creature arched its back until the massive hooves hung over my head. In a blind panic I tried to pull myself free from the grip of the root. I scrabbled around in desperation for something, anything to defend myself with. My hand grasped a broken stump of a branch. Wet and sodden, it offered little protection. I swung it wildly as I felt, rather than saw the hooves begin their descent. It made contact with something and disintegrated as a howling screech filled the air. Then there was silence. No murderous impact, nothing. I opened my eyes and saw only an empty clearing. The only sound the gentle percussive rhythm of the raindrops on the outstretched leaves.

Copyright © 2001 LACHLAN MAIN

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