FOR THE WILD HORSES IN THE PRYOR MOUNTAINS, daily life has changed little over the past 200 years. The whims of the weather dictate their activities just as they always have. The seasons come and go. The grass grows green, foals are born, lightning strikes, the first flakes of winter fall, old souls return to the cosmos, and it all begins anew in the spring.
Winter nearly brings life to a stop. Snow drives the mountain-dwelling horses to lower elevations and keeps those that remain on the Dry Head near the scant cover of the Bighorn River. They lower their heads and turn their backs to the constant, brutal winter wind, standing quietly for hours on end. Pawing away snow to find forage, they subsist on juniper, sage, dried weeds, bark — whatever will fill their stomachs until the first shoots of spring appear. The winter of 1978 was so severe that 75 horses died of cold and starvation, some with holes in their intestines from the roughage they had eaten.
Spring and summer arrive with a slow flush of vegetation, and the horses eat almost nonstop. Because so much of their range is barren, they cover many miles per day in search of forage. A band may be at the very top of the mountain in the afternoon and along the lower plateaus of the ridges, several miles to the south, by the next morning. They are back at the top again later that day as they repeat the timeless cycle of grazing, napping, and moving on.
Daily treks to water holes provide more than just an opportunity to drink; they are a center of family life and offer a respite from persistent insect pests in summer and early fall. As smaller water holes dry up, the horses travel to those that remain.
Autumn finds the winds reclaiming both mountain and desert with a bitter, frigid grip. The horses look for any available forage as they begin to restrict their movements to conserve precious calories.
Although intensely tracked and monitored by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), the Pryor Mountain Mustangs are nonetheless left to their own devices for every aspect of their survival. No one comes to brush and curry. No food is provided, not even in the frozen, barren, starving depths of winter. No veterinary care is given. Such is freedom in the wild.
A MARE NICKNAMED Grumpy Grulla indulges in a late-afternoon stretch. The dirt road goes through the horses’ natural habitat.
RED CLOUD’S MORNING RITUAL: a good roll in the rich, red earth at the top of the mountain.
WITH CLOUD’S BAND snoozing in the background, mares Flicka (far left), Madonna, and Atlantis (black mare) frolic in the water with bay stallion Duke.
WILD HORSES FAITHFULLY guard their foals. Here, even as the band (from left: Quelle Colour, Lakota, Blanca, and War Bonnet) relaxes, at least one member is ever watchful.
HORSES SUN THEMSELVES in reflections off June’s last remnants of snow. Although they sometimes eat snow for moisture, this patch feeds into an easily accessible water hole at the base of the slope.
GRUNTS AND SQUEALS interrupt a calm afternoon as two stallions “discuss” the situation.
CUSTER (LEFT), A BAY ROAN STALLION, and his mare, Waif, savor the morning sunshine and each other’s company. Centuries ago, buffalo created dirt wallows at the top of the mountain, enjoyed ever since by livestock and wild horses alike. Moles have freshly churned the soil, affording this pair of mustangs an invigorating June dust bath.
CUSTER’S MARE, WAIF, and her 2005 foal enjoy their turn at the water. On the Range, horses generally visit the water hole only once a day.
REST IS AS IMPORTANT as activity in the wild. Lakota’s band relaxes in the open where approaching intruders are easily spotted.
“The whole country around was overrun with thousands of homesteader’s horses … but this little band was not of this class. They were, and are, the genuine little Spanish horses and there were about 70 head. I did not try to get them and hoped that no one else ever would and that if a try was made it would fail. …”
— From a letter by Charles O. Williamson, lead investigator of trespass horses in the Pryor District until 1929
WHEN BANDS COME TOGETHER to graze on the lush summer grass at the top of the mountain, band sires and bachelors alike are on guard. Confrontations are common during breeding season.
