I do not understand, I told Jumanah, who was watching along with Tawil, Ajouz, and me. Where did that horse come from?
The newcomer was a shiny bay with a tiny star peeking out from beneath her long, silky forelock. Her legs were slender but strong, her body compact and graceful, her tail full and glossy.
Old Ajouz heard my question and responded with excitement in her eyes. We took her in a raid. She will be part of our herd now.
As far as I knew until that moment, my herdmates and I were the only horses in existence. Seeing this bay mare was a strange new experience for me. However, the strangeness soon gave way to curiosity. The humans seemed to be curious, too. Safiya, her mother, and the other women emerged from the tent along with the men who hadn’t gone on that night’s raid. They all exclaimed over the new animals.
The bay mare stared around with wide, anxious eyes as the men released her and the other mares. When Jumanah took a step toward her, the newcomer flared her nostrils. Jumanah lowered her head and snaked it forward, flattening her ears. The new mare lowered her own head in submission, taking a step backward.
Then Ajouz came forward, prancing in a way I had never seen the old mare do before. Zahrat, Tawil, and I crowded along at her hip, heads up and eyes excited.
Meanwhile the humans were chasing the new lamb and goats off to join their own herds. Then they stood and watched us horses for a few minutes before heading for the tent.
“Will they be all right, Father?” Safiya asked with a yawn.
“Don’t worry, child. They’ll sort things out on their own.” Nasr patted her on the shoulder.
I hardly noticed when the humans disappeared into their tent. I was busy watching the new mare. She was submissive to the rest of the herd. She only wanted to fit in and had no wish to fight. For a while Zahrat and Gameela seemed interested in chasing the newcomer around just for fun, but wise old Ajouz soon put a stop to that.
By dawn, we were all dozing together near the water’s edge. The bay mare was already becoming friendly with Ibtisam, who chased off Zahrat and Gameela anytime they got too close.
Safiya emerged from the tent bright and early. She brought us all dates, making sure the newcomer got her share.
“Aren’t you pretty?” she crooned as she patted the bay mare. “Father says you are to be called Hasna. I think it suits you.”
I snorted, impatient for the girl’s attention. Frolicking closer, I kicked out at Hasna. She backed away at once, though I had to dodge an annoyed bite from Ibtisam. But Safiya chased off both mares with a wave of her hand.
“Good morning, Yatimah.” The girl greeted me with her usual pats and scratches. “I hope you’ll be nice to the new horse. It is an honor for Father to have taken such a fine animal, with Allah’s blessing.”
I didn’t know what she meant, or much care, either. All I wanted was her attention, which I enjoyed until Safiya’s mother called her off to help with the camels.
Later that day, the heat of the midday desert sun chased us into the shade as usual. At first Zahrat and Gameela seemed ready to keep Hasna away from the outcroppings. But Ibtisam squealed her protest, crowding them back so her new friend could creep into the shade.
Enough, you two, Ajouz scolded when she saw what was going on. Hasna is one of us now.
Jumanah agreed in her calm way. Yes. And she is not trying to take anyone’s place in the herd, so there’s no purpose in fighting.
That’s right, Hasna said in her submissive way. I do not wish to cause any trouble.
But I still don’t understand, I burst out. How did you come here?
Hasna looked at me. I lived in another herd until last night. A larger one—twice as many mares as here, plus some foals and two stallions. Then you arrived carrying your humans.… She bowed her head toward Zahrat, Gameela, and Ibtisam. They grabbed me and led me off with their ropes. I thought my friend Bayda was coming, too. But she pulled away when the dogs barked and ran back to camp.
Yes. Ibtisam shot a look in Zahrat’s direction. Someone nickered, which alerted the dogs at that camp, along with their humans.
I was frightened, Zahrat responded. It was dark, and I smelled the other horses, and I couldn’t resist calling to them.…
Never mind, Jumanah put in. Seeing that Tawil and I were still confused, she did her best to explain. Now and then the humans decide to ride fast across the desert and raid each other’s camps, taking as many animals as they can. I have been on many such raids myself.
As have I, Gameela said. And I was born with different humans, just like Hasna. Nasr raided my home camp when I was only a yearling.
Tawil looked more and more alarmed by the whole story. But why do they do it? he wondered. All this galloping across the desert sounds so tiring. Why don’t all the animals just stay where they are born?
As I have told you before, the ways of humans are a mystery, Jumanah told him. But as long as they take care of us, it is of no importance to us horses.
I looked out into the desert, feeling strangely excited by all this talk of raids. Was this what my mother had done? What would it be like to race swiftly and silently across the sand under cover of darkness, as she must have? To return with more horses and other animals for the camp? It was a strange idea, but a thrilling one.
Despite the heat of the sun, I couldn’t resist stepping out of the shade for a better look across the dunes. As I wandered around, my mind full of Hasna’s tale, I found myself near the tent. Nasr and his eldest son, Basim, were outside watching the goats drink from the spring.
“It is too bad that Allah frowned upon our raid this time,” Basim was saying. “I cannot recall the last time we returned with less. Only one lamb, a couple of goats, and the mare. And no camels at all, even though Dirar’s people have at least a dozen!”
“It was not Allah who doomed us last night.” Nasr’s voice was hard. “It was that nervous, skittish fool of a mare. Zahrat was nearly as noisy as a stallion when we approached the other camp!”
His son sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps we’ll have to put Jumanah back to work earlier than planned. The foals should be weaned soon in any case.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps this new bay mare will do.” Suddenly Nasr turned and saw me wandering nearby. He frowned, his eyes going dark. “If only we had not lost Sarab …”
I took a step toward him, ears pricked forward as I recognized my dam’s name. But Nasr turned away and strode off, his robes swishing around him.
A few days later, I awoke to find a new air of excitement about the camp. The humans were all up early and bustling around with raised voices and active eyes. The sheep were jittery and kept bumping into each other, causing more than one of them to be head-butted by an impatient goat. The dogs had caught the mood, too, and barked at the smallest things.
What is it? I asked, already feeling keyed up.
Tawil, as usual, was slow to awaken. Is something happening? he wondered lazily as he blinked and looked around. Was there another raid?
Jumanah didn’t respond for a moment. She was watching the humans carefully. Then she looked over at Ajouz. Is it what I think it is? she asked the older mare.
I believe so, Ajouz responded.
What? I danced in place, unable to fight the agitation I felt in the air. What is it? What’s happening?
Something new for you, little ones, Jumanah told Tawil and me. It is time for us to move on!