“My treasures do not clink together or glitter; They gleam in the sun and neigh in the night.”
-Arabian Proverb
A Journey Into The Desert7/8/2021 a new version of a timeless Bedouin legendFive Bedouin boys stepped into the desert alone. They were young but, as their tribe saw it, old enough to become men. The boys grew up hearing legends of Al Khamsa, five mares who lived freely in the desert, unsoiled by the touch of any man. It was said that they were far too wild and untamable for any tribe. Their purpose in the desert was far greater than any man could fathom. There was an unspoken rule among the people that, if found, the mares be left to their own devices. The boys, however, had a task to find Al Khamsa. It was several days after the boys said farewell to their familes and stepped onto the wild sand when they became fully convinced the mares were nothing but a hazy daydream brought to wary eyes by the sun's shimmering reflexion. The boys had planned to conquer the unconquerable and prove their worth to the tribal elders, but the unconquerable quickly became a cruel joke.
They gave up their search. They were running out of time. If they didn't return to their village soon, they would be at the full mercy of the desert. They prepared for a shameful return. Packing up the camp they had set for the night before, the boys extinguished their fire and scuffled their feet in the sand as to leave no evidence of their stay. One boy lifted his head towards the horizon. The sun was glaring back into his eyes but he could barely make out 5 black shapes that stood between him and the rest of the world. He looked back at the rest of the boys, still busy erasing signs of their existence, and signaled for them to stop. Without a word, the boy pointed into the far distance. They squinted and strained but it wasn't until one gasped, dropping the heap of twigs in his arms, that they collectively understood what they were looking at. They had found them. They had found The Five. As soon as the mares came into clear focus, they were gone. Whether they trodded along over the horizon or they disappeared in plain sight, the boys had no idea. Forgetting about their exhausted defeat, the boys gathered their things and marched forwards heading to the line where the sand meets the sky. For how long they marched on, they couldn't tell. The boys were entranced and didn't care where these mares led them. Eventually they came upon a sandy knoll overlooking a small stream. There, at the edge of the water, stood the mares. To the boys' surprise, they did not startle the mares. They simply peered up at the boys as if acknowledging old friends. The boys stood there for some time before one gathered the wits to walk forward. This, the mares did not welcome. They shifted around as a warning to the boy, but the boy didn't seem to notice. The boy was nearly close enough to reach out his hand and graze the side of a mare's shoulder when she pricked her ears forward and the herd sprang into a gallop. The mares vanished once again into the desert. The boys, left in a cloud of dust, stood listlessly. After a while of staring at forgotten hoofprints, they decided to set up a camp near the stream. The mares would have to return at some point for water. They spent the rest of the night drawing out plans in the sand. The following morning, the boys had concocted a makeshift corral using fallen trees they found around their camp. The next time the mares returned to the stream, they would rally them into the corral. They hid atop the knoll where they first spotted the mares and waited. The sun was barely high in the sky when they could make out five figures approaching the stream from far off in a valley. As the mares approached, the boys snuck into their assigned positions. When the mares drew closer, one boy gave a nod to the others and they leapt up, darting for the mares. Instead of running into one direction, toward the corral as the boys anticipated, the mares dispersed in their own directions --one heading up the stream, one heading down, one jumped the stream and two went off into caddy cornered directions. They were far too quick and far too smart for the boys. Sitting in the dust of the desolate valley, they watched as each horse faded into the distance. They would have to try something new. The day was wearing on and the boys were running low on food. It was decided that one boy would stay at the camp to keep guard while the other four went further south of the stream to catch some fish. The four boys had been gone for some time and the boy left guard had dozed off into a deep slumber under the pressure from the warm glow of the setting sun. He was nearing a dream when something nudged his side. Thinking the others had returned, he flapped a hand for the intruder to go away. A few minutes later, he felt another nudge. He wrinkled his face and hesistantly peered out through his eyelashes at a grey horse inspecting his pockets. His eyes grew wider to reveal that he was, in fact, being inspected by five grey horses. He laid unmoving for what felt to him like forever until the horses left him and began inspecting more of the camp. Slowly, the boy sat up. Curiously, the boy wiggled his feet in the sand to make a soft sound. Still, the horses didn't seem to notice that he was awake. The boy made his way to his feet. The horses were far too curious in the blankets and bags of the camp to even notice the boy standing in the midst of them. He began to walk, softly, about the camp site and as close to the horses while still avoiding them. He found that, as long as he made no advances towards them, the mares didn't mind his presence. With not much else to do, the boy laid back down and watched the curious mares. The boy didn't realize he had been overtaken by sleep until he awoke after the sun had long gone and the other boys had returned with what little they were able to catch. The other boys did not seem hopeful after their bad luck with the horses. "We'll have to return soon," said one, "we can't survive much longer, but I'm far too tired now." The other boys seemed to agree, except for the boy left guard. He had a plan. "We can tame the horses," he said. The rest of the boys looked at him with doubt. "Get some sleep tonight. Tomorrow, you will see!" Exhausted from their efforts of the day, the boys huddled around a fire and fell quickly into a deep sleep. The next morning, they saw exactly what the guard boy was talking about. They found him at the stream gathering water and, to their surprise, was accompanied by the herd of mares. He greeted the fellow boys and instructed them to all lie down as if they were sleeping. As the boys did so, the guard boy returned to the camp as his herd of horses followed. "They come to you," he explained, "we do not come to them. They do not fear us but they do not trust us. Be gentle." One by one, each boy rose to their feet. "Do not touch them unless they touch you," continued the guard boy. The boys did as commanded and carried about their morning as if the horses were invisible. By high noon, each boy had a horse accompanying him around the camp. The sun began to fall and the boys became more and more aware of their need to return to their village. Most importantly, the boys became aware of their need to return to their village with the horses. "Will they follow us?" Asked one boy. "They still don't trust us, but they might be curious enough too." Replied the guard boy. "Come." He gathered all the things he brought with him and began walking south of the stream. He motioned for both boys and mares. "We'll follow the water and find food for both of us." To their surprise, the mares kept up the pace. After nearly an hour, the boys and their horses approached a small grassy plain where the stream opened into a pond. The horses took to the grasses while the boys began setting their camp. Sitting beside a thin flame they had coaxed out of what few flimsy weeds and branches they found, they made plans to head back to their village the following day with their mares. The horses had followed them all the way to the new campsite, there surely was no reason why they wouldn't accompany the boys home. The last of the sun's light leaked away over the horizon and the boys fell asleep to the chomping sounds coming from the nearby pasture. The boys stirred awake in the middle of the night. They could hear men's voices in the near distance. Quickly scooping sand onto their dim fire, the boys sat and listened. From the deep cackling that rang through the air, the boys knew the voices belonged to robbers who lurk about the wildlands. The boys would have to leave for home tonight or risk being ransacked by thieves. Their horses had wondered off into the night as they slept; the boys would have to go without them. Careful not to make much noise, the boys quickly through on their packs and headed in the direction farthest away from the menacing voices --which was also the farthest way from their village. They could hear the strange hoofbeats of the thieves growing closer and they quickened their pace until their legs blurred out of sight under the moonlight. Their hearts were now beating loud in their ears but they could still hear the voices draw closer. As they pushed themselves further, glistening lights appeared in the distance "Make for those lights!" Shouted a boy. And with those words, the boys quickened speed. They were coming up on the lights a lot faster than they thought, but the lights themselves appeared to moving. "Horses!" Yelled another. Faster and faster their legs went and closer and closer they discovered that the lights they were heading for where not lights at all. They were horses. Five twinkling ghost-white horses in the night cantering steadily over the sand. They had slowed to a quick jog by the time the boys caught up to them. Without hesitation, the guard boy reached out and intertwined his fingers into the thick mane of his horse. With an effortless leap, he slung himself onto her back. The other boys followed suit. Burning hot from their midnight escape the boys pushed the mares faster into the darkness. From beneath, the horses became a blinding brightness that drowned out the night. With no other sight or sound,, the boys lost track of how long they had been flying through the darkness. The voices of the thieves were lost behind them. The horses ran steady until the world around them lightened into a deep blue then they paced themselves into a calm jog. The boys were now completely lost in a desert they had never been before. Home was in the other direction towards their pursuers. They will have to find a way around the vast plane they set between them and their families. Even worse news was that they were far from the stream that kept them fed and and answered for their thirsts. Despite this, they rode forward into the fresh morning, allowing the mares to decided for themselves which way to go. At some point, the mares must have made a loop as the landscape became more and more familiar to the boys. The sun was fully over the horizon and creating a pink gloom over the land when they came to a place where the land dropped into a steep plateau beneath them. Below, a small village blended into the landscape as if buried in a thin layer of sand. They boys wiped the beading sweat from their foreheads. What sat not a mile below them was their village. The mares had carried them back to their home. "How did they know?" Asked one boy; never to be answered by any of the others. Before the boys thought to ask, the mares turned towards an old winding path and carted the boys to the bottom of the highland. The village was quiet save for the Sheikh who sat waiting for their return. He raised his hands into the sky and greeted the boys with a smile that took over his tanned face. "Welcome," he said, "to five of the greatest horsemen our village may ever know." He nodded towards the mares, "and welcome to Al Khamsa who brings them safely back!" From that moment on, legends of Al Khamsa circulated the globe. As long as the nomadic Bedouin roamed the desert, the stories of Al Khamsa went with them. No one knows for sure where these horses came from or who they were but, to the Bedouin, they are a part of a sacred history that uncovers many secrets of the rich desert and its horses. It is said that Al Khamsa were Mohammed's favorite mares. They were loyal beyond belief and braver than any soldier. The stories about them vary, but sit down with any Bedouin horseman or woman and ask them about the five; they'll know exactly who you're talking about. Much like many Bedouin-bred horses, Al Khamsa's blood ran pure and the Bedouin went through great lengths to keep their descendants just as refined. To this day, Al Khamsa Inc. tracks a running roster of the descendants of Al Khamsa. Al Khamsa Inc. is also a great resource to find out more about the ancestry and history of the Egyptian Arabian Horse.
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Leave a Reply.About CassidyCassidy Payne is a lifelong equestrian and animal welfare activist. With over 16 years of experience in the equine industry, Cassidy is retired from competing on multiple levels, from A-rated shows to local schooling shows. She is now focusing her efforts on training her horses with the Principles of Learning Theory in Equitation. Archives
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Photos used under Creative Commons from NathalieSt, mikecogh, Joanne Goldby