Kids into books: The Silver Brumby

Author: Elyne Mitchell

Illustrators: Ralph Thomson

Publisher: Harper Collins, $14.95

Age Group: 8-12 years

" I will call you Thowra," she said, waking him with her nose," because that means wind. In wind were you born, and fleet as the wind must you be if you will live."

On that first day, while the storm blew itself out, Bel Bel did not take Thowra far, only down through the snowgums to a long glade that led to a heather-banked creek where she could drink. That night they went back to the opening of the cave and the foal slept on the dry sand curled up against his mother" s flank.

The next day she decided to take him farther, to a wide, open field in the snowgum forest, where the grass grew very sweetly, even as early in the spring as this, and where the creek ran shallow over a sand and mica bottom.

The storm had died in the night and there was warm spring sunshine. Bel Bel noticed with pride how the foal trotted more strongly by her side. She did not hurry him, often stopping to graze as they moved under the snowgums or in the long glades. She never left the shelter of the trees without first pausing and looking carefully into the open country ahead. Thus it was through a curtain of the leathery snowgum leaves that she looked out on to the wide, sunny field, and saw a bay brumby grazing in the distance by the creek.

Bel Bel became completely still, watching: then she recognised the bay as a mare of her own herd, Mirri, who had been caught by a stockman as a yearling, and managed to get free. Mirri, for this reason, was very nervous of men, and she and Bel Bel had often run together, away from the herd, when they thought the others were too close to the stockmen" s huts.

Now Bel Bel made out a dark shape on the ground near Mirri and knew that the bay mare, too, had her foal. Unafraid, she led Thowra out to join them.

When Mirri saw them coming she gave a whinny of greeting, and Bel Bel arched her neck a little and stepped proudly beside her creamy son, thinking how his mane and tail were silver and would someday look like spray from a waterfall as he galloped.

Mirri was pleased to see her.

" Well met, Bel Bel," she said, " and what a fine foal you have - creamy too! I must stir my sleepy-head to show him off!" And she nosed the bright bay at her feet.

The bay raised his head sleepily, but, seeing strangers, he became wide awake and struggled to his feet.

" A fine intelligent head," Bel Bel said. " What do you call him?"

" Storm," Mirri answered. " He was born in the worst of the weather, two nights ago. And yours?"

" Thowra, for the wind. He was born then too. They will be great mates for a year or so," and both mothers nodded wisely, for was it not the way of the wild horses that the young colts should run together, after they left their dams, until they had reached the age and strength to fight for a mare or two of their own and start their own herd.

Storm and Thowra sniffed at each other curiously and then both turned back to their mothers for a drink.

(Continued on page 7 of The Silver Brumby).

* Next week's book: Christmas Sonata by Gary Paulsen.