Lost Mountain Stallion

By Ralph Galeano

A young ranch woman rides into the mountains searching for her missing horses. Warned not to ride into the rugged country known as the DEVIL’S MAZE, she discovers a secret entrance through seemingly impassable cliffs and enters the dangerous badlands. She finds sign of her lost mares and rides deeper and deeper into the treacherous country until she is hopelessly lost.
A wild, black STALLION has stolen her mares and retreated to the safety of the Devil’s Maze. He is the last descendant of a band of wild mustangs whose numbers were decimated by early ranchers. The fierce stallion secretly follows JEAN as she nears the sanctuary where he has hidden the mares. He attacks Jean and her saddle horse, JASPER, as they cross a narrow trail high above a rocky gorge. Her horse is killed when they fall from the cliff during the battle. She and the wild stallion survive the fall into a rocky hollow. Trapped by sheer cliffs ringing the small meadow, Jean helps the fierce stallion survive his injuries.
The wild mustang lies helpless and allows her to touch and care for him. He recovers and bonds to the young woman as they share the small hollow where they are trapped. She is unaware her DAD and GRANDAD fought and killed this stallion’s dam and sire in a terrifying confrontation twenty years before. The ordeal left her father with a paranoid fear of the Devil’s Maze and the wild horses that once inhabited the chaotic land of dead-end canyons and steep cliffs.
Jean recovers the lost mares and together they follow the injured stallion back to the secret cave that will lead them out of the Maze to the trail home.
A dramatic ending occurs when Jean and the horses finally near the cave. Searchers have discovered the secret cave leading into the Maze. They see the lost procession returning and mistakenly believe the black stallion is preparing to attack Jean and her runaway horses. GRAMPS recognizes the wild stallion as the colt he released twenty years before after he killed the colt’s sire and dam when they attacked his son. He decides to shoot the stallion to save his granddaughter.
Joy turns to horror when Jean realizes her rescuers are trying to kill the magnificent stallion she has come to love. Jean recklessly throws caution aside in an effort to save the wild mustang in the frightening last chapter of “Lost Mountain Stallion”.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ralph Galeano
• Release date: Mar 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301536108

Ralph Galeano

Ralph Galeano is a columnist and novelist. His monthly column, Picket Line, is featured in national livestock and agricultural publications. He has written three novels and hundreds of articles and columns about horses, cattle and the West. He has been featured in Western Horseman, The American Hereford Journal, Rocky Mountain Game & Fish, Performance Horse and many other publications. He is a member of Montana Author’s Coalition, Wyoming Writers, Inc. and his published works about horses and the West have qualified him for acceptance in the Western Writers of America, a national organization of professional writers devoted to the literature of the American West. Ralph is the recipient of the Milestone Award, presented to him by Wyoming Writers Inc. He has won numerous championships in national cow horse competitions on horses he has bred and trained. His novels, articles and columns about horses come from hands-on experience and the passion of a true horseman that reflects over fifty years of working and training western horses.

Book preview

What others are saying about Lost Mountain Stallion

This book packs more wallop in its 160 pages than any western in my reading experience. Mr. Galeano obviously is quite familiar with his subject matter: horses. However, in addition, he pulls together a considerable store of knowledge concerning wildlife, Rocky Mountain habitat, horse and human psychology and physiology, and ties it up with believable characterizations--again both horse and human. The authenticity lends smoothness to the reading, without the distractions of spurious and inconsistent details so familiar to readers of westerns.

--Steven S. Dawson, author Delusions of Immortality

Lost Mountain Stallion

by Ralph Galeano

Published by Horseman's Press

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Ralph Galeano

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Stormy The Barrel Horse

Saddle Sore

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

About the Author

Other books by Ralph Galeano

LOST MOUNTAIN STALLION

CHAPTER 1

Bright sunlight filtering through tall pines gave the dark forest floor the appearance of being splashed with icicle-like streaks of light. The pleasant odor of pine needles enveloped the air and was welcomed by a horse and rider making their way through the small stand of timber. Jean Baker rode with a loose rein, letting the horse choose his own way around the tangle of deadfall timber and low branches blocking their path. They moved silently across the carpet of soft conifer needles.

Jean traveled through the thickest part of the timber giving obstacles in their path a wide berth so they could easily clear them. Occasionally she was forced to pass under low branches and she either ducked below or swept them aside with her free arm. Her horse instinctively slowed until he felt her clear the branches. Jean was part of him and he traveled as if she were an extension of his own body.

Ahead, brighter light penetrating through the trees promised the end of the timber. She emerged silently from the woods and rode onto a rocky ridge. The silence ended as the horse’s hooves left the soft bed of needles and trod upon hard rocky ground. The ring of steel shoes seemed loud and piercing after the silence of the forest. She rode along the ridge for almost a quarter mile to a rocky outcropping. She rode onto the outcropping and touched the reins, stopping the horse.

Jean had left the ranch well before daylight to check their small band of brood mares in one of the high mountain pastures. Two young mares were missing. She found tracks of three horses leading through a damaged gate. She repaired the gate and began tracking the horses.

The trail led through rough mountain country. Several times they lost the tracks, but managed to pick up the trail again by making wide sweeping circles of the country. Jean never saw the missing animals. Their tracks led her deeper into the mountains toward the area known as the Devil's Maze. She tracked the animals for four hours before finally losing the trail for good in a rocky area. She wondered about the third horse and the tracks it was leaving. The strange horse's tracks stood out distinctly from the tracks left by the two mares. He moves so light on his feet, I’d sure like to see him. He seems to barely make any indentation in the ground at all. Several times Jean dismounted to examine them closer. She saw that the animal was unshod and its hooves were rough and chipped.

When Jean lost the trail, she took a gamble and headed straight for the rough country the animals seemed to be heading for. She rode onto this outcropping to look out over the Devil's Maze and hoped to catch a glimpse of the missing mares.

From the rocky point, Jean gazed out over the vast Montana wilderness. Stretching away from the rocky ridge, to another mountain range far to the west, she saw a land of broken draws and deep canyons, a no man's land of harsh, rough country that looked as if it had been thrown about during creation and formed in to a panorama of utter confusion. Jean saw no pattern to the direction the steep ridges and long canyons ran. They branched out in different directions, often crisscrossing back and forth over themselves in a turmoil of geographic chaos.

Jean shivered as she surveyed the rugged land, pockmarked with dished out basins, rimmed by sheer rock walls. Heavy timber that looked impenetrable covered the bottom of the basins. Boulder strewn ridges and canyons were intermittently forested with thick stands of trees. Receding glaciers had given birth to this wild country, and later, the cataclysm of violent earthquakes left the land in this inhospitable condition. She saw that it was a wilderness that looked impossible to travel through, either on foot or horseback.

For long minutes, Jean stared out over the tangled country deep in the northern Rockies. Reaching behind her, she rummaged in her saddlebags and brought out a pair of powerful field glasses, raised them to her eyes and carefully focused the binoculars. Slowly, she scanned the territory stretching out below her. The country looked ominous through the naked eye, but now, with the magnification of the binoculars, it looked incredibly impassable and frightening. Jean placed her hand on her horse’s neck, My word, Jasper, if those mares disappeared into that country, then we may never see them again. It looks so tough and forbidding that they could vanish in there forever. There are millions of nooks and crannies to hide in. I can sure see why Gramps calls this land the Devil's Maze. You could get lost and never find your way out. I can't even see how to get into that country. To get down into it, you would have to find a way off these steep cliffs and that looks impossible.

Suddenly, Jean felt Jasper tense up beneath her. His ears flicked forward and he stared down in to the broken land. Something caught his attention and he stared in that direction. What do you see, Jasper? Jean stared in the vicinity the horse was intently gazing. She saw nothing. She stepped out of the saddle onto solid ground and raised the binoculars to her eyes. Very carefully, she glassed the area Jasper was staring in to. She knew the horse's senses were far greater than hers. Jasper must have seen or heard something unusual that attracted his intense concentration.

A low, nervous nicker escaped Jasper. Jean looked at the horse and saw he had become rigid as he stared in to the land below. You see something that you think is awful important. She raised the binoculars to glass the area again. She stared through the binoculars so intently that soon her eyes began to water from the strain, but still, she couldn’t locate whatever had captured Jasper's attention.

Jean lowered the glasses and blinked her eyes a few times to clear them. With her naked eyes, she looked in the same direction that Jasper was still so intently watching. Suddenly, she saw movement in a heavily timbered draw. She raised the glasses and scanned the area. An animal was moving swiftly through the trees and running out into the bottom of the narrow canyon.

It's a black horse! Wow! He’s magnificent! Look at his brilliant black coat, it’s gleaming in the sun. I can see his muscles ripple as he runs. His chest is big and muscled too and blends perfectly into strong forelegs. And look at his hindquarters. They’re strong and powerful. No wonder he’s so fast. No offense, Jasper, but that’s an impressive horse.

Jean studied the terrain through the field glasses for what seemed an eternity, but was unable to locate the animal again. The mysterious horse effortlessly vanished in the broken timber of the small canyon. Jasper continued his concentration of the rugged terrain below them. I can't see that horse anywhere, Jasper, but you seem to think he's still there the way you’re watching that canyon.

Another ten minutes passed without any visible sign of the mysterious horse. I think we better give it up for this trip, Jasper. It's getting awful late and we've got a long trail to ride before we get back to the ranch tonight. Jean slipped her field glasses in to the saddlebags and firmly buckled the strap that held the bag closed before mounting Jasper and turning him down the trail that would take them home.

Tracking those mares was slow going. We spent an awful lot of time searching before I decided to gamble on the mares heading for this country. We know there's a strange black horse down in the Devil's Maze but there's no sign of our mares. We’re coming back here as soon as we can and hopefully find our mares and learn more about that splendid horse we just saw. Jean felt the black horse held the secret to the whereabouts of the missing mares. She rode down the ridge and entered the timber. It would be well after dark before they reached the ranch even if she pushed Jasper hard across the mountainous country.

The black stallion eased out of his hiding place and stood in a small open meadow when Jean and Jasper rode out of sight. Like a formidable sentinel, he stared toward the ridge above that protected his domain. His thoughts were on survival and that meant he must remain vigilant. Watching and listening, his keen senses remained alertly tuned long after the sound of Jasper's hooves receded into the timbered forest. Confident the intruders were riding away from his valley, he began traveling into the deepest part of the canyons.

Following obscure trails and moving with quiet speed through the rocks and brush, he worked his way deeper into the Maze with a silky smoothness that kept him concealed. He blended into the labyrinth of ridges and canyons as if he were a part of the landscape.

Jean asked Jasper for a trot and the gelding was happy to oblige. They had a long way to go across the mountains before they reached the home ranch and Jasper’s trot would shorten the trip. The horse moved right along on the ride home. When they cleared the timber, he lifted his head, tugging on the reins, asking Jean to give him his head. Jean slacked the reins and Jasper moved into a faster, ground eating trot. When they came to open meadows, she let the horse break into a lope. She slowed Jasper to a safe, fast walk when full darkness descended on them.

Jean made good time and arrived safely at the ranch long after dinner. She rode Jasper straight for the lighted barn. Gramps and her dad waited for her. She trotted right into the barn and dismounted near the tack room where the men were standing.

Her dad patted Jasper’s neck, I'm sure glad to see you, Gramps was starting to get a little concerned about you being so late gettin' home.

Oh, no I weren't. I knew you were riding Jasper today, so I never worried a lick about you. It's your dad that was doing all the worrying.

Jean smiled, "No need to worry, we had a lot of country to cover today. I'll tell you all about it when I get Jasper taken care of. Jean unsaddled her horse and began brushing him. Gramps brought oats from the feed room, and her dad climbed into the loft and dropped hay into the manger. She smiled. It was good to be home. Supper would be waiting, and although she hadn’t found the mares, she couldn’t wait to tell them about the mares and the strange black horse in the Devil’s Maze.

A warm glow passed through Jean as she thought of the love she had for the two men. They were inseparable and ran the ranch as a tight knit, family operation. They were tall, lean, good-natured men. Gramps had a full head of gray hair, while Clint, her dad, was beginning to show gray around his temples. They were ranchers and knew no other life. They loved the land and the animals they worked with. Gramps passed his skill and knowledge of breaking and training horses on to his son, and she was proud of the skills both men taught her. She felt blessed to have them teach her the intricate talent of gaining the confidence of the horses they trained and used on the ranch.

Clint came down from the hayloft and watched her work, You’ve had a long day and I want to hear all about your adventures when you come in the house. He was proud of Jean. He considered her a superb horsewoman and watched her ride and rope with the best of the men. She could break and train the roughest stock and bring the best out of any horse she worked with. He taught her to transmit to the horse exactly what she wanted the animal to do and her technique brought green broke horses to a high level of training in the shortest possible time. He took pride in the relationships she was able to maintain with horses under her training. They always parted friends after a training session, no matter how tough it became for the young horse. The horses were always eager to see Jean when she entered the corral and most greeted her with a warm nicker. She was an exceptional trainer and Clint was proud of her abilities but he had a gut feeling that her long day had put her in danger. Mom’s kept dinner warm for you, so as soon as you finish with Jasper, you can look forward to a good meal.

It's good too! I ate more'n I should have! Gramps laughed.

I'm almost done. I just have to water Jasper and then I'll be right in.

We'll see you in the house, Dad said. Both men left the barn and Jean soon finished with Jasper, after making sure the gelding was comfortable and that she had not overlooked anything with his care. Okay, Jasper. I think you’ve got everything you need. Get some rest. She turned off the lights in the barn and walked up to the house.

Her mother greeted her