Sakima the Brumby’s Escape

What do you do when you lose a part of your family? You grieve; you don’t believe it and all those assorted feelings.  This is exactly what happened on a Sunday not too long ago. Sakima, my wild brumby exited my life in dramatic circumstances.

My manager became over confident with my wild brumby that he was so adjusted to life on our farm that he would not leave through our rainforest that leads to a National Park. With an open gate an invitation too inviting to ignore Sakima was on his way to freedom.

I went up in the afternoon to find no horse and an open gate that lead to thousands of hectares of wild bush and rugged mountain ridges. I knew immediately he had gone.

Calmness in a crisis is important and business had well equipped me to contain my emotions and the feeling of dread that enveloped my body. This is a wild horse that won’t allow anyone to catch him and had only just started to let me touch his head and allow some human contact. Even if we found him how did I get him back to the farm?

Questions for later. Let’s find him first.

My manager sprang into action heading straight up the mountain, running on foot. I took Zippin, my riding horse on a wild ride through the fire trails looking for Sakima.

I found Sakima’s tracks at the top of the mountain but lost them as he bush bashed his way through the forest. My manager on foot had more luck and tracked him over several ridges and valleys, when night robbed him of success. Sakima had covered over 15 kms in his dash for freedom.

Up at 5.30 the next morning with the mist hiding any early chance of seeing Sakima we both headed for the last spot where Clarrie saw his tracks, figuring he would camp there the night.
Living with a brumby is anything but predictable and he was no where to be found. Worse still, there were no tracks to follow.

We were losing hope. As an animal communicator it was time for me to talk to him. Not to make him come back but to ask where he was.

Sakima was having a wonderful time but said “I am heading back to home and am on the mountain overlooking the property but I am confused as to how to get down”. Now I knew where he was but how to tell my manager who did not know about my life as an animal communicator.

I blurted out it is a waste of time looking here he has gone back to our mountain. Clarrie sceptically asked how you can know this. I said I will tell you later and started determinedly walking to the car. He had no choice: join me or walk home. He joined me on the frantic drive through the fire trails to the National Park above our property.

We went to the rock cliff where Sakima had made his way out of the property. Sure enough here were fresh droppings and his distinctive tracks with the gap in the front near side foot. We knew he was confused as they went back and forth so he was struggling with coming back down the cliff face he had so ably climbed the day before.

I sent him visual maps that he had to make his way further along the ridge and to follow the feral goat track.

We speed back to the property and we took the three horses up the back separating them so they would call and Sakima might just follow their call down.

It was a long sorrowful wait and no Sakima. We saw the goats further along the ridge where I had told him to go but still no tri coloured pinto was to come forth from the forest.

This was the second day of Sakima’s freedom and by night my emotions were getting the better of me and my animal communication skills went with my rising emotions. I went home, crying all the way in the car.

Clarrie and I had agreed he would go early in the morning to track him and then later I would go out on Zippin to see if we could find him.

My animal communication skills had totally deserted me. Next morning as I was sending a desperate email to my animal communicator coach in the USA, I received the best text message in the world. “I have found the brumby”

I was in the car in a flash frantically texting back where are you exactly so I can find you in the forest? He had found his way to the ridge where I had asked him to go but still could not find his way down. Now the hard part bringing him home through the forest and down the mountain.

Zippin was saddled and we climbed our way through the mountain rock pass. Arriving on top could not see Sakima or Clarrie despite me being sure I was in the right place. I called, thinking we have come so close but now it seems so far.

Then out of the trees Sakima comes running stopping in the clearing.  Head high with adrenalin pumping through his body this was no time to approach.

Clarrie followed my lead dropping to his knees and this is where I stayed for the next 40 minutes calmly sitting doing nothing as horses do with Zippin by my side and Sakima watching. Only when his head dropped did I change my position and start to lead Zippin down the trail hoping Sakima would follow.

No such luck and he turned and went away and using the skills I have learnt from America’s leading horse trainer with mustangs, I continued to walk away from him. Just as my horse coach says he stopped and turned and faced us and this was to go on several times.

Then I went back to sitting and doing nothing and thought what have I learnt? Change what I was doing. After his head dropped I took my cue and circled around to Sakima’s front – leaving Zippin tied to a tree. Feeling deserted Zippin started whinnying and for the first time in my life with Sakima, I heard him whinny back. A deep soft whinny. However, to save Zippin’s rising stress I chose to go back to him and calm him.

More sitting just doing nothing and then I stood up and circled around again saying I am going to say hullo Sakima and telling him what I was going to do. He stood watching and not taking any steps back and I slowly took several steps then stopped and then continued to approach. Zippin was silent this time.

Then the best feeling as I came within 3 metres of our brumby and he took steps forward to meet me. I dropped to the ground and handed him his feed. For the next 15 minutes he fed from my hand as I wanted the saliva juices to get going.

Now the test. Would he leave the shadows of the forest and the security that the dappled light gave him to follow me through the open area to the cliff face?

I started to ask him to walk with me as I had been practicing with him for the last month. Sakima took a few tentative steps to me and ate his reward. This slow journey took over half an hour and then we were in close proximity to Zippin.

Here was the next hurdle. Zippin as the dominant horse would not provide comfort for Sakima to pass. I called to Clarrie to circle around and to take Zippin and lead him towards the rock cliff face. Sakima’s quick flight response kicked in and he turned and fled as Clarrie moved pass.

I had to keep my head here and did the brave action and continued to walk away from him, ignoring his retreat. Yet again, Sakima stopped, spinning around to face me, not stopping to look this time but advancing back to me.

It was then I knew we would be able to get him to leave the trees and cross the open area to the rocks.

What happened next, happened rapidly. Clarrie was in the rhythm now and when Sakima moved he moved Zippin so just as we came out of the dappled forest shade, he led Zippin down the rocky path. With Zippin’s rump disappearing from view Sakima seemed to recognise that Zippin was showing him the way down.

Sakima threw caution to the wind, trotting past me to catch up to Zippin and within seconds was on the rocky path down the cliff face.

So the little caravan of man, horse, horse and woman trailing made its way down the rocky cliff. When we reached the bottom of the cliff Sakima’s elation penetrated the air. He wildly cantered past Zippin and Clarrie determined to find the farm quickly. But of course his enthusiasm lead him the wrong way and Clarrie and Zippin continued in the opposite direction to him.

He stopped, obviously wondering and this gave me time to cut through the bush and down to track we wanted him to come down on. I called him to come to me and gave him the non verbal signals we had practiced so often to join me or follow me. His training kicked in and he came trotting following me down the track.

As we manoeuvred the hair pin bends, his enthusiasm took over again and he took short cuts straight down the mountain. Arriving well before the three of us but he was home and now on our farm. As we watched him arrive at the bottom of the mountain, Clarrie, Zippin and I hugged each other.

Sakima was home and had made the biggest choice of his life. He had chosen life with me and my herd, not freedom roaming the National Park.