Got away with a bruise

Day: 32

Sunrise:
06:11 am

Sunset:
8:03 pm

Total kilometers:
452

Soil condition:
Meadow

Temperature – Day (maximum):
24 °C

Temperature – day (minimum):
17 °C

Temperature – Night:
5 °C

Latitude:
48°55’401”

Longitude:
103°39’459”

Maximum height:
1379 m above sea level

There isn’t a cloud in the sky during my shift today. It’s 4:30 in the morning when I run to the horses to check the ropes and hobbles. Startled, I see Bilgee’s horse Tenger. It has moved far away from the others and is grazing peacefully. The line to the ground stake has twisted off in the damp grass, which is why the horse is free. Only a hobble between the left front fetlock and the left hind hinders the horse from running away at full gallop. So as not to frighten Tenger, I get down on my knees and pretend to straighten the hobbles. I slowly touch Tenger’s thigh and let my hand slide up his neck. When I try to grab his halter he gets frightened and jumps back. This was my only attempt, because from then on Tenger wouldn’t let me get closer than ten meters. I go into the yurt to tie a lasso from a rope. When I get back to Tenger and want to throw the lasso, I think about whether I can allow myself another failed attempt. If the throw is not right, and you can assume that with my inexperience in lassoing, he becomes even shyer. Until recently, he was used to running around freely in the pasture. He has not been ridden for a year and now, as soon as he has smelled the fuse of freedom, he is difficult to catch. I think about getting reinforcements and wake Bilgee up. He is also unsuccessful at first, but he moves with a calmness and composure that is remarkable. Bilgee goes to Ulzii’s horse Od. Od and Tenger are tied together every night on a long herding rope, as the two horses get on well together. Bilgee takes Od and leads him slowly to Tenger, taking care to keep behind Od at all times. He then lifts the guard rope from the ground, blocking Tenger’s escape route to the front. I block the escape route from the other side. Now Tenger only has one side open to escape. Slowly, Bilgee stalks closer meter by meter. He whistles softly to calm the animal. When he is close enough to Tenger, he can grab him by the halter. Tenger doesn’t even bother to defend himself and lets the horseman have his way.

Around midday, Tovuu drives Tanja and Ulzii to Erdenet again so that they can buy more ropes, straps, nails, screws and hooks for the horse-drawn cart. The most important reason, however, is a rabies vaccination for Mogi. In my sleeping bag tonight I had the thought and urgent wish to protect Mogi against rabies. Rabies is widespread in Mongolia. Mogi is a male dog who never avoids a fight and obviously gets bruises and bites in the process. Most of the nomadic dogs roam freely and hunt at night. So the risk of Mogi catching rabies is not exactly low. “The trip costs 30,000 tugrik (€17),” says Tovuu. Since we apparently accepted the price last time, this time he takes it for granted from the outset. “I’ll pay you 25,000 tugrik (€14) and no more. There are only two of us this time. Denis stays in the camp,” Tanja replies. “But you’ve got Mogi with you,” he adds. “It doesn’t matter,” she says firmly, and lo and behold, he agrees immediately. When the three of them are on their way to Erdenet and Bilgee has gone hunting again, I am alone in the camp with the children and Baatar. I use the time to write. Finally without technical challenges.

I’m still alone in the evening. I interrupt my work and go to water the horses at the stream of revenge. I lead the horses to the water one by one to make sure that none of the boys run off or get up to any other tricks. Everything is unhurried and very peaceful. Lost in thought, I am leading the light-colored chariot horse Sharga back when it suddenly, for no apparent reason, completely freaks out, storms past me, stands up on both front legs and lashes out with its hind legs at head height with a needle-like force. I barely have time to react when the hoofed left hind foot hits my thigh as I walk up and brushes past my testicles. The shock is such that I hardly notice the pain at first. Somehow I don’t manage to fall and hold the halter line. “You damned animal!” I roar after the first moment of fright and try to hit the obviously insidious and very dangerous horse. It opens its eyes and gets up on its hind legs, which is why I jump back this time. It takes all my strength not to lose the wild horse. Unhobbled, it would most likely gallop over all the mountains back to Erdenet. There is an unwritten law in Mongolia. If the animal returns to its owner after a horse purchase, the owner can keep it and you would have to buy it again. Of course, this again depends on the owner. I manage to calm Sharga down a bit and bring him back to the camp where I tie him to a post. Baatar saw the incident. She sits in front of the yurt to bathe her grandson in goat’s milk. “That’s a bad horse,” she says, sticking her little finger up. “A very bad horse,” I reply, still in shock. I am aware that I was incredibly lucky at the time of Sharga’s attack. If it had hit my knee, it would undoubtedly have broken through. If he had hit me in the center of my manhood or in the head, I would probably be dead or very badly injured. As so often in my life, I was once again protected by my guardian angels. After the incident, I sit down in front of the small yurt and think about it. “What could that have been good for? Was my mind not on the job? Not focused enough on what I was doing, namely leading horses. I can’t think of anything. Whatever. You don’t have to question everything. The main thing is that I got away with an abrasion and a bruise.”

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