He gives us his all.
Speed.
Endurance.
Power.
Yet his wild spirit
burns bright.
Spark of ancient myth...
pride of king and conqueror...
...he was the backbone
of civilization.
History was forged
to the beat of his hooves.
Even now, he still lays claim
to the heart
- with all the bold beauty
that is the horse.
Summer
sets off fireworks in the
mountains of southern Montana.
Spurred by heat and hunger,
wild horses converge
on the cool green heights,
and sparks begin to fly.
Stallions spar
and court young mares
in a drama as old as the hills.
The mustang has become a symbol
of the American West.
But some say he's a newcomer
to these parts,
even a trespasser.
The truth
is tangled in the long and
winding history of his kind.
It began some
in the forests of North America.
Living on leaves,
a creature the size of a fox
walks the underbrush
on padded toes.
In time,
forests give way
to grassy plains.
Legs grow long,
and toes become nimble hooves
in a body
built for speed.
About a million years ago,
the first true horses
spread across land bridges
to Asia and Europe.
Their numbers swell,
then slowly decline
perhaps due to climate change,
or the impact of a
two-legged predator.
To Ice Age hunters,
the herds must have seemed
inexhaustible.
But by 8,000 years ago,
horses were extinct
in the Americas
and dwindling elsewhere
into memory and myth.
Then somewhere on the steppes
of Eurasia,
at least 4,000 years ago,
the horse inspired someone
as more than just a meal.
It may have begun
as a shaman's ritual,
or a reckless teenage prank.
But some brave soul
took a quantum leap
and changed the world forever.
The horse utterly changed our
sense of distance and speed.
He carried us forward
in space and time,
and made our world smaller.
Great equestrian cultures arose
and thundered across antiquity
Today, most have vanished.
But here on the steppes
of Mongolia,
little has changed
since the time when the horse
became a way of life.
Nomads still measure
their wealth in livestock
and move vast herds
with the seasons.
Small but hardy,
Mongolian horses endure
a harsh climate,
and grow a thick winter coat.
When pasture is meager,
they can survive
on very little.
Mongolian nomads also
herd sheep,
goats and cows,
but horses
are their greatest pride.
Revered,
they are largely reserved
for riding
and one other important role.
Mongolia's national drink,
called airag,
is fermented mare's milk.
Life in the saddle begins early
in keeping with a local proverb:
"A Mongolian without a horse
is like a bird without wings."
In July,
thousands of nomads
set up camp on the edge
of the capital city,
Ulan Bator.
They come to celebrate Naadam,
an ancient religious festival.
National competitions of
traditional sports are held,
including two days
of horse racing.
One of the country's top
horse breeders,
Khen Medekh
traveled over a week
to take part in what will be
his 30th Naadam.
From a herd of 400 head,
he has brought
his 12 fastest horses.
Also in tow are
his grandchildren
for good reason.
Riders must be under 12
to compete at Naadam.
Training, however,
is no child's play.
It's what Khen Medekh lives for
Horse training is a passion.
My father was a great trainer
and he passed that on to me.
It's the same for
most Mongolian people.
We compete at Naadam
to see who has the best horse,
and because we're so proud of
our horses.
A fine racehorse
is a symbol of good luck
and happiness.
On the day of the first race,
preparations begin at dawn.
Hats and bright silks
will help families
spot their little jockeys
at a distance.
The distinguishing mark of
a racehorse
is a leather tail wrap
always wound clockwise.
Forelocks are also bound.
Khen Medekh enhances
the look with a charm
bearing Mongolia's
national emblem.
He has high hopes for
this young stallion.
With an offering of mare's milk
Khen Medekh's wife
invokes the sacred powers
of nature
to bless horses and riders.
A circle of incense purifies.
A drop of airag protects
from harm.
An ancient Buddhist chant
rings out for luck.
Some 500 riders will compete
in the first race.
Parents on horseback
swell their ranks.
By tradition,
they circle clockwise
at a staging area
near the finish line.
But the running of the race
is not yet at hand.
The starting point lies
more than 15 miles away
in the open steppe.
To reach that point at a walk
will take the racers
some three hours
which leaves time to kill
for everyone else.
Nomads like Khen Medekh
take the moment to catch up
with old friends
and trading partners.
For people who live much
of the year
in relative isolation,
there's also
the irresistible allure
of new faces.
For now,
small talk belies the drama
that's erupting miles away,
as 500 horses reach
the starting point
and the race begins.
Long before they can see
the racers,
spectators crowd
the finish line.
According to myth,
the dust kicked up
by winning horses
showers happiness
and prosperity
on all those it touches.
Front-runners have been
galloping for nearly 30 minutes
By Western standards,
this might qualify as
an extreme sport
but these are the descendants
of Genghis Khan,
who forged the largest land
empire ever known
on horseback.
The blue sash of victory
goes to the first five horses
A flash of green tells
Khen Medekh
his granddaughter has placed.
But a riderless horse
sends him off in search of
his youngest grandson.
After an initial flurry,
racers trickle in for
another hour.
Herd instinct alone will keep
a horse going
even one that lacks the fitness
and conditioning required
for a long-distance run.
For some,
the strain is too much.
When a horse dies
on the racetrack,
the trainer is dishonored.
But the child who has lost
a beloved pet
reaps only heartbreak.
A fall near the starting point
dashed the hopes of
Khen Medekh's grandson.
His horse is safe,
his bruises minor.
But his six-year-old pride
will sting
until the races are over.
Naadam concludes in
the National Stadium,
with a parade of champions.
Khen Medekh is twice a winner.
His grandchildren take
two of his horses
through their victory laps.
A herald sings the praises of
the winning horses;
medals and mare's milk
do them honor.
But for each little rider,
the highlight is a kiss from
the President of Mongolia.
No other nation makes more
of the horse.
Fiery steed,
faithful servant,
he is all good things to
the Mongolian people.
In return,
they may succeed in saving the
last truly wild horse
on earth
Before the rise
of civilization,
his kind ranged throughout
Asia and Europe.
Alert and aggressive,
they were elusive prey
with their camouflage of
tawny coat,
their upright,
two-toned mane.
These horses were already rare
in 1878,
when Russian explorer
Nikolai Przewalski returned
from Mongolia.
He carried a skull and hide
that would prompt the
announcement of a new species.
In a race for specimens,
stallions were slaughtered
to subdue mares.
Mares were killed to
secure foals.
Dozens died en route to zoos
and animal collectors
in the West.
Przewalski's horses
were last sighted in the wild
in the 1960s.
A decade later,
fewer than 300 survived
in captivity only.
This endangered species was
declared extinct in the wild.
In 1992,
European reserves
touched down in Ulan Bator.
Their journey was
the crowning achievement
of Dutch conservationists
and Mongolian authorities.
Transports were blessed with
mare's milk
as the horses arrived at
a nature reserve
established in their honor.
The homecoming
delighted local people.
Their name for the horses
is takhi.
The word also means spirit.
Today,
some 80 free spirits roam
under watchful eyes.
Park rangers closely track
the animals' health
and behavior.
Breeding success is high:
two generations have been born
in the reserve.
To increase the gene pool,
horses are still brought in
from the west.
But prospects for
self-sustaining population
are promising.
Mongolia's preservation
of the takhi
seems a fitting tribute
to an animal who has given us
so much.
Domesticated, the horse
revolutionized our world
but in the process,
he was also transformed.
The legendary Arab is just one
of more than 150 breeds
some honed for work,
some for sport,
others for sheer show.
The Spanish horse
boasts one of
the oldest pedigrees.
His speed and stamina were
praised by the Romans.
The famous Spanish Riding
School in Vienna
was founded in his name.
A dancer's grace made him
a favorite of monarchs,
and earned him the title:
"Royal Horse of Europe."
Today, he inspires
a new generation
at the Royal Andulusian School
of Equestrian Art
in the town of Jerez,
in southern Spain.
Few gain admission here:
only first-rate horses,
trainers and students.
A strict curriculum has produced
several Olympic competitors.
The school also keeps
tradition alive.
Once a week,
the public is invited in,
to enjoy the splendors
of another age.
In 18th century costume,
riders recreate the height of
classical horsemanship,
as it was practiced throughout
the courts of Europe.
Most spectacular
are the
"airs above the ground."
Horses naturally leap and kick
when fighting.
Centuries ago,
cavalry mounts were trained to
perform these moves in battle.
Eventually
each gesture became an end
in itself
as formal as ballet.
A supreme effort,
virtually in place
Few can perform
this exacting dance
with the power and precision
of the Spanish horse.
The purity of the breed is
proudly protected in Spain,
yet his bloodlines extend
far and wide
for this
was the horse
who once conquered a new world.
Some 500 years ago,
Spanish explorers rode upon
the shores of the Americas.
Some native people
mistook man and mount
for a single fearsome creature
But soon,
they would make the horse
their own.
Through stealth and trade,
Native Americans embraced
the horse.
It was said
"they came to each other
like long lost brothers."
Some called him "Sky Dog."
He opened vast horizons
in this life,
and haunted their visions
of the afterlife.
But this cult of the horse
would not last.
By the 19th century,
Native Americans
had been robbed of land
and livelihood.
Their beloved Sky Dogs
were shot,
or simply set loose.
Scores of Indian ponies
joined strays and runaways
already thriving
in the wilderness.
By 1900,
over a million horses
roamed the American West.
But not for long.
To make way for cattle
and sheep,
public lands were cleared
of animals
considered worthless pests.
They were slaughtered
by the thousands
for pet food, fertilizer,
and mere sport.
In the 1950s,
public outcry denounced
the abuses.
Still,
numbers had dropped
below 20,000 by 1971,
when a federal law was finally
passed to protect the wild horse
as a "living symbol of the
pioneer spirit of the West."
Today,
the Bureau of Land Management
oversees some 45,000 horses
on public lands in 10 states.
On the Montana-Wyoming border,
the Pryor Mountain Wild
Horse Range
is home to a herd of about 160
Most live in small family
groups of several mares,
their foals
and a single dominant stallion
His role
is to guard his "harem"
and protect
his growing offspring.
This stallion, known as Raven,
is one of the most dominant
on the range.
A heap of fresh droppings
called a "stud pile"
alerts him that potential
rivals may be in the vicinity.
A band of
young bachelor stallions
prompts Raven to move his
family to a safe distance.
Then he advances
on the intruders
and confrontation
becomes inevitable.
Raven may be outnumbered,
but at ten years old,
his maturity and experience
give him the advantage.
As he enters the fray,
his band stays put on
the sidelines.
Most clashes between stallions
are more about asserting rank
than inflicting harm,
and serious injuries are rare.
In the end,
the bachelors move on
unscathed but chastened,
and Raven returns to his mares
Occasionally,
even mature stallions
form alliances.
A stud named Starman
acts as a subordinate
or "lieutenant stallion"
to Flash,
who has a mare and foal
of his own.
Flash tolerates
Starman's presence,
but allows him no access to
his lone mare.
In summer,
a waterhole fed by
melting snow banks
attracts this small band.
The mare enjoys
a soothing mud bath,
while her three-month old foal
plays with the idea.
But for now,
the water holds no appeal for
Flash's lieutenant stallion.
Starman
picks up the scent of
another mare,
and sets off in hot pursuit.
The mare's yearling son tries
to intercept Starman,
but fails to impress
such a mature stallion.
This mare's own stallion
must be just out of sight
a boon for Starman.
Still,
she rejects his advances.
In the end,
she gets away,
and Starman can only observe
the tactics of
more successful suitor.
At times,
the Pryor Mountains seem
heaven-on-earth for horses.
Though much of the terrain
is arid
and winters are harsh,
summer pastures can be glorious
The horses have few predators
to fear:
most were eliminated by
ranching and land development.
With high fertility rates,
the horses' numbers can increase by 10,
even 20 percent a year.
And that means trouble
in paradise.
In the last three decades,
the Bureau of Land Management
has removed more than 100,000
wild horses from the range.
The round ups are intended to
protect public lands
from overgrazing
and ensure the health of
the herds.
Excess animals are placed
in adoption programs,
but supply far exceeds
public demand.
Horses deemed "unadoptable"
live out their days
in holding pens.
Even now,
the fate of America's
wild horses
remains an open-ended question
Some 4,000 years
of domestication
have failed to deprive the
horse of his wild instincts.
His natural impulse
is to flee the company
of humans.
Bryan Neubert makes a living,
not "breaking"
but-in his words-
"starting" wild or green horses
This two-year-old quarter
horse stud,
born on the open range,
has never been handled.
On his ranch in
northern California,
Bryan is about to
make first contact.
Bryan
will chase the horse until
he turns to face his pursuer.
The goal is capture
the animal's attention
and keep it.
I'll ask again now. Good.
Now let's see if he leaves
with the hindquarters
or if he leaves with
the whole horse.
See, here's the...
the first little part
is gonna happen here in
just a second, I think.
Subtle shifts of body language
keep the horse focused
on Bryan.
If his attention wanders,
I might see if I can get
another step closer.
As long as he's doing that,
I'll just let that soak in.
I'll take another step.
And I'll take another one here
He's having trouble with it,
but he's trying.
He's gonna have to leave here
pretty soon.
And I'll try to direct him back
There, he adjusted in
the rear quarters,
that's what I'm gonna
need here.
Within about 15 minutes,
the young stallion has
mastered the maneuver.
Now Bryan presents
a new challenge.
I might do just a little
swinging here
and see if he can stand that.
And I'll see about,
see if I can put that on there
without hitting him in the face
And I'll just,
as I come forward,
just let that go.
And it's kinda scary.
You can see that it's
troubling to him a little.
I'll just put
just a little pressure till,
till he finds his way
toward me
See, he keeps thinking
his answer is out of here,
but the answer's right there.
The horse turns to Bryan
for reassurance
a critical breakthrough.
Now he might reach for me.
Let's see if,
he'll come in here. I'll see if
I can get another half a step
without scaring him.
See how he's reaching for me?
Now here's a spot where you
want to watch their ears,
'cause some of them,
they'll take a run at you.
Now, I'll just wait here
till he reaches.
Like that.
See him smelling me?
There's the first,
second
time he's ever
been touched by a human
or he touched a human, I guess
Now, again, let's see
if this head shaking
will disappear. I'll just keep
a little tension there,
and I'll see if he'll reach
for me.
And pretty soon I'll reach
for him, like right there.
We sorta met one another.
Little bit of touching there.
Little bit more here.
See, he's finding out he can
touch me and reach for me now.
In a horse,
there's a spot
in there where
they can just turn
loose emotionally.
You can see in their eye
and their face
a change that comes over them
and they'll begin to
drop their head
and their eyes'll soften
and you can just see
that they're
beginning to trust you
and then you can
move right on and really
advance then.
I'll get my weight shifted back
He's feeling a whole lot
better about things now,
he's finding out I can touch
him and he won't get hurt.
Less than half an hour after
the first touch,
Bryan tests the saddle.
Very important to swing this on
so that it doesn't hit him.
I'll just grab it, gradually
just lays right over on
their back like that.
I don't mind seeing one buck
with the saddle,
because being a prey animal,
that's his responsibility to
not let anything stay up there
That's where the predator has
the best advantage.
If he can get above
and stay with him,
then he can have himself
a meal.
Pretty dreamy now,
but we'll see what
he's like when
he feels that saddle on there
I'd rather he test the saddle
before I get on than after
I got up there.
Now I'm gonna move him off,
but ever so softly,
if I can.
I'm not trying to
make him buck.
Okay,
maybe I'll give him
a little consoling.
Did you get scared?
It's been less than two hours
since Bryan began work
a fairly routine
"first session".
He'll leave the saddle in place
for a few more hours,
then give the young stallion
a well-earned rest
until morning.
Yesterday's fear gives way to
recognition and trust.
Today will be another
turning point.
Social animals feel safest
in a group.
As a comfort to
the young stallion,
Bryan has corralled
several other horses.
See, if he wiggles,
I'll just wait here
till he stands put.
Pet him over here as
if it was my leg and maybe...
get myself kinda set
here before he gets untracked.
Might let him go right out
that way.
And I'll just ask him to go.
If he gets upset,
if he gets scared,
wants to run,
I'll just try to go with him.
People ask me about
this new way of working
with horses.
Far as I know,
it's been around as
long as there's been horses
and men
interacting with one another.
I don't know how the
first man could ever get on
the horse for the first time
without having
something working for him.
I'll get a little bolder
as he gets a little more
confidence.
I'll ask him here
to come back to me
with this rein a little,
and he did.
The young stallion's
first ride
lasts no more than 15 minutes
and prompts a simple reward.
Hey kid.
This just kinda soothes
them sometimes,
give them a little hugging.
This is
a place where they,
a lot of them just can't stand
to have you that close.
And if you can show them
that it's okay
to be this close,
why it's a real relaxing,
soothing kind of thing.
They really have to trust ya.
By day three,
it's time to abandon
the security of the corral.
A whole new life is beginning
for the young stallion.
He's gettin' so he trusts me
a whole lot more today,
I see.
And Bryan
is left to ponder
an age-old mystery
about the nature of horses.
I often wonder:
How in the world would they
allow somebody to get up
on their back
and guide them around?
They'll take us
miles and miles till
they're totally,
you know, tired. Pull wagons and
pack loads and all kinds
of things,
when actually they could
kick us or hurt us
or buck us off any time.
And yet they'll just work
their hearts out for us,
if it's presented to them in
a way that they can understand
Pretty special animal, really.
Special, indeed.
No more than 60 years before
the first moon landing,
the world was driven
by horse power.
Every sector of the economy
relied on him:
transport and trade,
industry and agriculture.
No creature served us better
in the building of civilization
or its occasional overthrow.
For millennia, the warhorse
prevailed in battle.
If not for a horse,
would Alexander
have been great?
Who can imagine Attila the Hun
or Napoleon on foot?
Over a million horses served
in World War I.
Nearly a third died.
In World War II,
tens of thousands perished in
a battle of bullets and bombs.
The Age of Horsepower
was over
And yet there are more horses
in the world today
than during the 1800s
some 62 million.
In an Age of Technology,
perhaps we yearn all the more
for the touch of something wild
The horse is no longer
changing our world.
But he can still change lives
one at a time.
In central Georgia,
Carol Wooley has loved horses
since she was a child.
In 1995,
a friend told her about
an old school horse
who had seen better days as
a fox hunter and jumper.
His name was Carousel,
and he needed a home.
Carousel was in his mid
to late 20s,
a little lame,
in fact,100 pounds
over weight.
He was a little swayback,
just a good quiet lesson pony
Carol took good care of him.
Local children rode him.
Soon
Carousel was a favorite.
In 1996,
two weeks after the summer
Olympic Games,
the Paralympics came to Atlanta
Some 3,500 athletes attended.
For the first time,
equestrian events were included
Sixteen nations sent teams.
It was up to event organizers
to provide horses
for 62 athletes
with a wide range
of disabilities.
Each would be judged
on precision,
smoothness, and harmony
of horse and rider,
while performing a set pattern
in the arena.
A call went out to horse
owners for calm,
well-trained mounts.
Carol Wooley volunteered
two of her younger horses,
but Games Officials were
desperate for more.
She thought twice
then sent for old Carousel
as well.
After a check-up,
he was quickly put to the test
And later in the day
they called him for Denmark,
and I met Brita Anderson
who's a very small woman
in a wheelchair,
and I thought to myself,
"There's no way she
is going to ride this pony."
She spoke English quite well,
and I asked her, "Have you ever
fallen off a horse?"
And she smiled
and looked at me and says,
"Many times."
Far from falling,
on the day of competition,
Brita and Carousel took Carol
by surprise.
Brita and Carousel
made a connection.
He knew exactly
what she wanted
and she knew how to get
the most out of him.
And he loved her.
I'm still not sure
how she did it,
but they just were
a perfect match.
The judges agreed.
The pair took first place
in their division,
and received the highest score
of all the competitors.
From Denmark,
Brita Anderson
riding Midland's Carousel,
owned by Carol Wooley.
When they won the gold medal,
it was
this little pony and a horse
trainer from no where
and a world-class rider,
and the thought that
they actually won that gold
and they earned it,
it was probably one of
the high points in my life.
By the time she returned home,
Carol had decided to start
a therapeutic riding school.
Horseback riding
can improve balance
and muscle tone,
as well as a sense
of independence
and self-esteem in people with
all sorts of disabilities.
For Carol
there's no greater reward
than to see someone like
take her first ride.
You're riding, kid!
You're riding!
When you take a child
out of a wheelchair
and put him on a horse,
he's immediately taller.
The walk of a horse mimics
the same movement
you get to actually walk on
your own legs,
it gives them freedom
of mobility,
it gives them control
over something
that they may have never known
before. They can control
where they're going.
Carol runs the school
on grants,
donations and volunteers.
And Carousel heads her fleet
of gentle horses
past their prime.
In August of 1998,
at a regional show for riders
with disabilities,
Carol decides to send Carousel
into the arena
one last time.
Nine-year-old Shawn Donalson,
one of Carol's top students,
has never competed before.
It's a breathless moment
for his parents.
Make the old man proud.
He's got a good horse.
Knows what to do.
Young boy and old horse
are picture-perfect,
and take a blue ribbon.
In first place,
Shawn Donalson.
A first for Shawn,
a final trophy for Carousel.
The competition concludes
with a ceremony.
As a symbol of retirement,
Carol removes the saddle
from a little horse
of unknown breeding
who has meant so much
to so many.
To him
go the full laurels
of a champion.
He was quite calm and stood
through everything.
He half way,
I think, understood
that we were doing
an honor to him.
I was a little surprised
that he didn't mind us
putting flowers on him.
He acted like, well, those were
his flowers. This was fine.
I think, he enjoyed it really.
He wasn't just an old sway
backed horse with a gray face.
He was everybody's dream
of a horse.
He served everyone
that's ever owned him,
every place he's been.
He's done everything
we've asked him to do
all of his life.
To me, he symbolizes
all the horses
that have worked hard
all their lives
and have given us
so much pleasure.
He's a fairly tale of a horse
But there's probably
thousands of them out there
just like him.
I guess he's the poster child
for all of them.
For all they have done for us,
for all that they are,
may they always
have green pastures
each and every one.