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34 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

horses on real bad days like this. They’re better off where they are. They’re warm and as dry as

they are going to get. I always felt like you did more harm than good, because you get them up

from their warm bedding grounds then they do get wet and cold. I stayed in the house after

feeding my horses in the barn and corrals. I couldn’t see the barn or corrals from the window

because of the blowing snow and the fierce wind out there.

I put on some water to make a pot of coffee and selected a book down from the book shelf.

I’d read the book before but I enjoy reading in this kind of weather. I heard a thud against the

cabin door. It opened and a half frozen man fell inside.

“Horse! …. Outside Por Favor,” the man muttered.

I got him up and dragged him to a chair. I recognized the man to be Juan Torres!

He looked ashen with the ice on his bearded face.

“You sit here and I’ll put your horse away,” I told him as I put my overcoat on.

When I got outside I saw a saddled horse and three mares with their backsides to the wind and

blowing snow, their tails between their legs, also blown by the strong wind.

I gathered them up and took them into the new horse barn that Big Jim and I started while he was

helping me. Good thing I finished it this fall. It was dry and windproof inside. I stripped the

Mexican saddle off of the blood bay gelding and put hay out for all the horses. I noticed the

brand on the bay. My brand! I recognized the gelding to be of the Tamale bloodline.

I decided It was “Jack”, the horse that Uncle Trent used to ride and the one that couldn’t be

accounted for when I took over the place. He looked familiar and I remembered reading a little

about him in one of Uncle Trent’s journals. I just figured a mountain lion got him or something.

Finding horse skeletons was a common occurance with the wild horse herds that were still

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