The Black Horse

The Black Horse

I HAD BEEN riding my black horse through the thickets of pitahaya from early morning until past midday. I had no water and the sweetness of the pitahaya honey caused me great thirst. There was no place within one hundred and sixty kilometers where I could get any water. I was getting desperate, thinking I might die any minute.

But at that moment some great, beautiful clouds formed. I looked at those clouds and jumped on my horse and rode to the top of a hill. I carried a long stick with a fork on the end of it. When I got there, I kicked my horse with my wooden spurs and he gave a great jump up toward the clouds, and I, with my forked stick, made a stab at the cloud. My aim was good. As we came down, we were followed by a torrent of fresh water.

I drank and also my horse drank and we both bathed. Water ran in all the washes. It ran deep in Sabino arroyo. From that time on there has been water in Sabino arroyo, for which we all have to thank my wonderful horse.