The colt tried to kick again, but was driven to the ground by the stallion. The stallion pawed at him unmercifully, opening up a gash on his right shoulder and another over his right eye. The stallion reared high in the air and pawed wildly, giving the colt enough time to scramble to his feet and bolt with his tail tucked tightly between his bloody hindquarters. The stallion came down and went after him. He drove the colt past the herd, pawing at his hocks and biting at his hindquarters, squealing and bawling so loudly the sound echoed off the walls of the distant canyon wall over a mile away. The colt dodged and spun, making every attempt to get away from the enraged stallion, but at every move, the stallion was on top of him, biting and pawing.

The colt ran for all he was worth, kicking out only occasionally, concentrating more on escape than defense. The stallion was unrelenting and kept pushing the colt farther and farther from the herd. The pair had traveled nearly a quarter mile with the colt being so focused on getting away from the stallion that he never saw the edge of the mesa approaching. By the time the pair got to the mesa’s edge, the colt had been trying so hard to evade yet another vicious bite he simply ran right off the edge. The stallion knew this area and how the shape of the ground felt under his hooves. He turned at the last second and was able to pull up short. As the colt disappeared, the big gray stallion let out another loud snort, shaking his head under a cascade of white-to-black mane.

The colt tumbled helplessly several hundred feet down the steep embankment, finally coming to an unceremonious rest against a large rock outcropping on a ledge just before a seven hundred foot drop straight to the bottom of the canyon floor. Disoriented and in shock from his numerous and severe injuries, the gray colt could do nothing more than lay motionless against the rock, and it was there he stayed for the rest of the afternoon, through the night and into the early morning.

Just as the sky began to lighten in the east, the colt heard the band start down the narrow game trail on the way to the bottom of the canyon. He was in nearly unbearable pain, and for the most part had been lying on his side in a puddle of his own blood throughout the night. But as he heard the band leaving him, he forced himself upright until his legs were folded underneath his body. Even though his fall had been horrendous, the colt had no broken bones. He tried to push himself to a standing position, but was still in too much pain and too disoriented to get up, and after two meager attempts, he sunk back down. He let out a soft nicker, which was all he could muster, but the game trail and the herd were too far away for any of the other horses to hear him, not that any of them were looking for him or would have even called back in the first place. The colt had been banished from the herd, and in the horse world, that rule was never broken.