A JOKER, BUT NOBODY’S FOOL
I am one of those people who, when they see a horse, gets a strong spiritual feeling inside. After finding out how many wild horses were living in the Kimberley region of Western Australia and facing the threat of culling, I felt I had to do something to help protect them. So, together with other volunteers, I set up Wild Horses Kimberley. We would often go out into the country; sometimes we found Brumbies injured, usually from wire left about from fencing, and we’d managed to stop culling in the past.
I first met Joker when he was just a little foal. He was a fuzzy, bay-coloured ball of fluff, full of energy and living with his much bigger stallion dad, Midnight, and his group of five mares near the old dam on the deserted Waterbank Station near Broome. We called him Joker because he would come close then run away, dancing about as if to tease us.
Joker’s mother and the other mares and young foals slowly and cautiously moved past us but little Joker stayed back and began to curiously creep around me, coming closer and sniffing the air. I must have been his first human encounter. As usual I stood very still and looked about nonchalantly to let him know he could approach safely.
I could tell by the way he moved that he was torn between whether to follow his mother or continue his investigation. After thinking a bit, he wandered off after the group, but he looked back at me like he knew we might see each other again. From that moment on, I was captivated by this little colt and asked Joe, the traditional Aboriginal owner of the area, who claimed to own all the wild horses, if I could own Joker when he was older. Joe keeps a group of geldings wild on his native title land and I had given him a group of wild horses sent to me from Theda Station to keep there. Like me, he loved all the horses. Joe said he’d ‘ask the boys’ but I never heard back from him.
Joker’s mob disappeared for a while and we didn’t see them near the usual watering places on our regular rounds of the area. Luckily, a few months later I found Joker again. This time he was with a different group. Observing them, we noticed that his mother was there but Midnight was nowhere to be seen and a heavy bay stallion led Joker’s new group. Since it had been months since our last encounter, Joker’s mother had a new foal at foot. The others in the group were mostly young fillies and colts about the same age as Joker. I guessed that the stallion had stolen Joker’s mother from Midnight, as stallions do, and they had merged with his herd to form a new Brumby family.
The new foal had bite marks on its chest, indicating that it was probably not the offspring of the new stallion. Having been around Brumbies and studied them for so long, I had learnt a lot about natural herd behaviour that was a great help in understanding their social structure and how they think and get along.
After assessing me from a distance, Joker wandered over and accepted treats of apple and dried bread from the ground. Then, for the first time, he let me pat his neck. The others gathered around but were not as friendly as Joker. Like all horses, Brumbies vary in temperament and personality. We didn’t push it and gave them the freedom to choose, or not, to engage with us.
Several months passed before I found Joker again. Interestingly, he was back with his father Midnight and a group of three young mares. Midnight had a weeping sore on his leg and was courageously fending off another stallion, which was prancing about nearby trying to steal his mares. Joker seemed to ignore all the drama and came over to me for a chat instead. Then he occupied himself with trying to wrest the bag of treats from me.
When Midnight had finished his squealing and kicking in a failed attempt to keep one of his little mares from the invading stallion, he came closer. Joker purposefully bent down and licked his father’s wounded leg clean. I had seen wild colts in close relationships with their fathers before. Stallions seem to take on an educational role with their sons. Joker was now as big as his dad but his behaviour indicated that he had come back to care for the old man. Maybe one day he would take over the herd. I stayed with them for half an hour, and then Joker followed me closely as I walked back to the car through the bush. He waited there, watching as we drove away.
We came back to check on Midnight’s leg every few days after that. One day there were no horses at the dam, but as we sat there Joker suddenly came galloping out of the bush, raced to the water and waded in for a drink. Ignoring us, he turned and galloped madly up the side of a hill, over the top and across the road whinnying all the while.
We decided that Joker had now become a mature stallion living on his own and was out stealing mares for himself. It had been a privilege for me to witness the changing cycles of his life from my first encounter with him as a little foal into his adulthood, and I hoped he wouldn’t injure himself in the process of fighting off other stallions to steal desirable young mares.
A year passed before I encountered Joker again. To my surprise he was out on the salt flats near the freshwater lake and living with a bachelor group of six stallions. His recognition of me had not waned though, as he wandered over, his mob following closely. They gathered round for treats but Joker, trusting me, came right up close for a neck rub and was the last to wander off.
It’s a rare and rewarding experience when a wild horse makes this unique contact, sensing you mean no harm and knowing you’re there to care for them. Joker seemed to ‘know’ me from the very first time we met, and always remembered. It wasn’t just about the treats. If a horse doesn’t trust you, no matter how sweet or tempting the treat is, they won’t seek you out. Joker loved the contact, the talking, the pats and the spiritual nature of us just being ‘friends’.
Image 24: A battle-scarred Joker survives the rough rivalry among wild Brumby stallions of the outback.
Image 25: Having forged a bond of love and respect, Trooper and Mae Lee spend their mornings together soaking up the sun.