As they closed in on the crest of the hill, both of them now crawling flat on their bellies, Jessie pushed her hat off her head so that it lay on her back, still attached around her neck by the braided horsehair stampede string. Silently, she stopped, reached back, took Henry’s hat from his head and handed it to him, before motioning for him to follow her to the top. The pair moved so gradually the last four feet of the climb that there were times Henry wondered if they were even moving at all. Soon enough, however, they had reached the summit, and as they slowly peeked over the crest, Henry finally could appreciate why Jessie had brought him all the way out to such a desolate area.

Below was a lush green valley that sprawled out in front of them, rimmed on three sides by rocky hills. Almost directly under where they hid grazed a large herd of wild Mustangs. As far as Henry could tell, there looked to be around forty horses in all. He could see yearlings, two- and three-year-olds, mares with new foals at their sides, and on the edge of the herd stood the band’s patriarch—a massive bay stallion with his matted and tangled mane flowing down from a heavily crested neck.

Jessie put the binoculars to her eyes and surveyed the herd for several minutes before handing them to Henry and pointing down toward the herd. Henry placed the glasses up to his eyes, but had to bring them down to adjust them before trying again. He scanned the valley and could see some of the foals running and playing through the knee-deep grass, mares and young horses grazing and the stallion prowling the outskirts of the band, protecting them from a younger stallion who seemed to be trying to work up the courage to challenge him. Henry watched for several more seconds before offering the binoculars back to Jessie. She motioned for him to keep them, and then leaned very close to Henry’s ear. “Which one is the boss horse?” she whispered so softly he could barely hear her. Henry looked at her questioningly.

She nodded her head toward the herd and whispered again. “The boss horse. Which one is it?”

Henry turned his attention back to the herd and placed the glasses up to his eyes. He scanned the entire herd several times before finally deciding which one was the boss. Without looking at Jessie, he pointed to a sorrel mare in the middle of the herd that was acting very aggressively toward the other horses. Several horses responded by running away from her, while others simply walked in the other direction as soon as she got anywhere near them. Henry looked at Jessie, who slowly nodded in agreement, before leaning close to his ear again. “Which horse is liked the best?”

A look of confusion crossed Henry’s face.

“Which one do the other horses really like?”

Once again Henry raised the glasses to his eyes and scanned the herd several times. He finally decided on another sorrel mare that was away from the majority of the herd. When she moved from one spot to the other, several horses followed her. When she stopped, they stopped. He looked at Jessie and pointed to the mare at the edge of the herd. Jessie smiled knowingly.