“Is that so?” The ranger looked at Issie.
“Well, kind of…” Issie said. “Something was there and it chased me and my horse, but it was hidden by the trees so I never actually saw it. I just heard it.”
The ranger cocked a suspicious eyebrow at this.
“But I did see it last night!” Issie added hastily. “It was right there on top of the cattle pens just before we found Meadow. It was balancing on the top of the wooden railings, running along them like a cat.”
“Could it have been a cat?” Hester wondered.
“Ohmygod no! Not a normal cat. It was enormous. I mean, really huge,” Issie said. “Bigger than Nanook even.”
“Did you see what sort of an animal it was?” Cameron asked.
“Umm, not really. There was a full moon but it was still very dark. It was black, I think, and it had a long thick tail, but I couldn’t really see much more than that. It disappeared pretty fast and then Aidan found Meadow and…” Issie’s voice trailed off as she remembered the awful events of the night before and the gruesome discovery of poor Meadow.
“Could have been a stray dog,” the ranger assessed. “We’ve had a couple of reports of stock loss lately. Once a dog gets the taste for blood, they’re trouble.”
“It wasn’t a dog,” Issie said firmly.
The ranger looked at her again. “Well, whatever it was, we’ll find it. I’m going to take a couple of men up to the ridge today and we’ll try and track it.”
“What will you do if you find it?” Issie asked.
“We’ve got long-range rifles. Our men are trained sharp-shooters,” he said coolly.
“Would you like more coffee, Cameron?” Aunt Hester offered the ranger. “Issie, why don’t you join us?”
Issie sat down reluctantly next to the ranger as Aunt Hester poured more coffee from the pot for herself and their guest.
“Anyway, I didn’t come here just to look for your… what did you call it? A ‘Grimalkin’?” the ranger told Hester as she sat down again. “You know the Conservation Trust has been concerned for some time now about the damage the Blackthorn Ponies are causing to the native wildlife.”
Hester nodded.
“We’ve been discussing the problem for months now. The Blackthorn Hills district is rich with rare native flora. There are species of lichen and moss here that simply don’t exist anywhere else in the world. It’s our job as the Conservation Trust to protect the land,” the ranger continued.
“But the ponies have been here for years, Cameron. Why is the problem suddenly so urgent now?” Hester asked.
“Numbers, mostly. The cold winters have usually kept the herd numbers down but the Blackthorn Ponies have been thriving for the past couple of years. There’s twice as many as there used to be. It looks like we have no alternative but to undertake the cull immediately.”
Aunt Hester looked shocked. “You realise that as the chairwoman of the Save The Blackthorn Ponies Group I’ll be fighting any action you plan to take at the highest level—”
Cameron cut her off. “Hester, we’ve been through all this a million times already and you know it. I’m not here to ask your permission. This cull has been debated and now it’s been officially rubber-stamped. There’s nothing you can do any more. Telling you today was only a formality. I thought you’d want to know since the herd often run on your land. We’ll have our men up here next week to get the job done.”
“What are you talking about?” Issie squeaked. “What do you mean by a cull?”
The ranger looked up at Issie. His face was grave. “You have to understand that these Blackthorn Ponies are hard to catch and almost impossible to manage even if we could get our hands on them, Isadora. We need to get them off the land, and as far as the Conservation Trust is concerned, that leaves us with just one solution. We’ll have to shoot them.”
There was silence in the kitchen for a moment. Issie looked at the ranger to see whether he was joking, but his eyes met her with a deadly serious gaze.
“Aunty Hess!” Issie gasped. “You can’t let them! This is your land! They can’t shoot all those beautiful horses! You can’t let him kill them! You just can’t!”
Hester looked distressed. “Do you think I haven’t fought this tooth and nail, Issie? I know how upset you must be; I’m upset too. This debate has been raging a long time now and our action group have fought this all the way, but now it seems like this may be the only solution. Cameron is right. These ponies are destroying rare wildlife – species that may not survive for much longer. If we can’t stop them – if we can’t catch them – then this may be the only solution.”
“But what about the ponies? What about their survival?” Issie said.
“I know. I know. I wish there were a way to save them,” Hester said. “Cameron has tried in the past, you know. They are fiendishly difficult to catch and it takes an expert horseman to manage them. They’re wild, Isadora, not at all like your typical riding ponies. And even if we could save the herd, what on earth would we do with them all?”
“Still, there must be something we can do, Aunty Hess!” Issie insisted. “What about the black stallion? What if he really is Avignon’s son?”
Aunt Hester went quiet at this. When she finally spoke she seemed enormously sad, “He’s a wild stallion, Isadora. The last time you went out there he tried to kill you. I simply don’t see what we can do to save him. It’s too risky. Someone might get hurt.”
“Honestly, Isadora, we wouldn’t be doing this if we hadn’t exhausted our options,” Cameron said. “It’s a very humane—”
“Humane? It’s murder! These are ponies we’re talking about! Beautiful ponies! Some of them are just foals! I can’t believe you’re doing this!” Issie turned to her aunt. “And I can’t believe you won’t stop him!”
And with that she stormed out of the kitchen, charged up the wide wooden stairs and ran into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Issie lay on her bed for a long time staring at the portrait of Avignon that hung above the fireplace, wondering what she should do. She couldn’t believe her Aunt was actually agreeing with the ranger. I mean, maybe they couldn’t save all the ponies, but they had to try, didn’t they?
Issie stood up from her bed and walked over to the sash window that looked out over the back veranda down to the stables. Aunt Hester was right. The stallion was dangerous. The last time Issie and Blaze had faced the black horse he had tried to attack them. But really, that had been Issie’s fault. She hadn’t been ready for him. This time, though, she would be. She could take a spare halter, some carrots to tempt the ponies…
Issie paused for a moment. Then she walked across the room to her wardrobe and got out her jodhpurs and boots. She pulled on a light jersey over her T-shirt in case the weather turned and grabbed her backpack. She climbed out of the sash window on to the veranda of her room and was
