Mesquite Horns

Mesquite shook his head in the bright morning sunlight. He tested his wobbly little legs and stood shakily in the Texas thornbrush. Nearby he heard a gentle lowing and he turned his head. His mom was grazing on the grass and he toddled over to her to get his breakfast. She nuzzled him as he nursed.

As he grew, so did his horns. They were heavy at first but he soon got used to the added weight. His father, the bull in his herd, had the longest horns on the prairie. He used the horns to ford a way through the thorns and spikes of the wild Texas countryside.

One day, a weird animal came riding up. It was on the back of what appeared to be a wild mustang, a fellow creature of the plains. It was making loud noises as it swung around a vine. Mesquite watched as the creature swung it's loop around the head of one cow, and then another. It approached his father but he started pawing the earth and the creature backed up. The next thing he knew, the loop was around his neck and he was being led away with his mother and a group of cows.

They were led into a large yard, surrounded by logs of varying lengths. Mesquite looked around this new land and tried to figure out what was going on. On the other side of the yard, behind the logs, were creatures that looked a lot like him and his herd but they were different colors and had shorter horns. He started to walk toward them but his mother stepped in his way to stop him. He looked at her with bewildered eyes and she just shook her head.

Then in came the weird creatures that were on two legs. They approached the herd talking in low, murmuring tones. It was soothing but the cows all seemed agitated. Mesquite was confused, what were these creatures? Was he supposed to be scared of them?

Near the standing logs were the mustangs. They looked like the wild ones that roamed the prairies with his family but they had heavy things on their backs. They didn't seem free like the mustangs. They seemed quieter, more subdued.

He eyed them warily, wondering why they stood so stoically when their cousins never seemed to stand still for a minute. Who stole their joy?

Just then his mom and the other cows became extremely antsy. They started dancing around, backing up into the logs. He realized the two legged creatures were approaching again and this time they were carrying long sticks that glowed red. They seemed to be smoking like the prairie does after a wildfire. One of the creatures lunged and hit his mother in her rump. She reared back and screamed in pain. When the creature pulled back, there was a black mark on her and it was smoking, too. They ushered her to the other yard with the smaller cows.

One by one the creatures marked the cows. Each one screaming in pain before being led to the smaller yard. Finally, it was Mesquite's turn. He was scared and kept backing up, trying to shrink into himself to get away. He suddenly realized there was no further for him to go. He curled up and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt the searing pain on his hind end and jumped high in pain. He felt a whip against his rear and ran for his mother on the other side. She nuzzled him as he wept and waited for the searing to subside.

The smaller cows looked at his herd with curious eyes. One finally sauntered up to them and bowed her head a little. She mooed a greeting and his herd quietly mooed back. With the ice broken, they all started to graze together.

Despite the initial welcoming, the domestic cows were actually judgmental of the new longhorns. The longhorns didn't give as much milk as the domestics. Their horns made it difficult to graze near each other. The longhorns weren't as bothered by the wild grasses and shrubs as the domestics were by these foreign plants.

The domestics snubbed the longhorns whenever they were together. The longhorns were frustrated by the lack of freedom. They would be released to roam but they weren't allowed to roam as far as they wanted. The ranchers would come after them and bring them back in if they ventured too far. This didn't seem to bother the cows but the longhorns were getting more and more agitated with each passing day. They missed their wild prairies and freedom.

The calves were the worst. They picked on Mesquite and the other longhorn calves. They taunted them about their mothers not being as useful as theirs but the longhorn calves didn't understand what they meant by useful. Their mothers fed them milk the same as the other cows, what more were they supposed to do?

One day, they were down by the creek getting some water. One of the female calves approached Mesquite and started to drink near him. One of the domestic bull calves came between them and nuzzled her away from him. She gazed at Mesquite over the bull's head but Mesquite pretended not to notice her. It was easier to not make waves.

From that day forward, the bull calf followed Mesquite and made sure the female calves stayed away. If any approached, he would drive them away. Mesquite felt more alone than ever.

Months passed, the prairie chilled with winter but in Texas, winter is a relative term. The domestic cows were originally from the east and were used to cold winters. They griped bitterly about the lack of snow and pampering that comes with the colder temperatures.

The longhorns ignored their complaining. Winter was the time when the snakes hibernated and they didn't have to worry about them. They could roam without fear.

Spring sprouted green and blue. The hills and dales filled with bluebonnets and indian paintbrushes, coloring the landscape in the bright colors.

As they roamed the prairies, grazing the fresh sprouts, the sounds of nature were all around them. Birds sang, small mammals chirped, and slowly the snakes started to arise from their winter naps.

One morning, as the sun crept over the hills, a low sound started near the herd. It was quiet at first, a few bovine twitched their ears but they all continued their breakfast. Slowly, the sound grew louder. It was finally a sound Mesquite recognized and the other longhorns started to flinch. The domestics clearly didn't like the sound but they also didn't know what to make of it. They continued their graze while the longhorns started backing away.

Mesquite looked in the direction of the sound and it was just as he feared. A rattlesnake coiled near the herd, shaking its tail just as fast as it could.

The young bull who was always so eager to separate the heifers from Mesquite stepped closer to it. He started trying to encourage the heifers away from the anxious snake.

Just then, the snake flew through the air and struck the bull in the leg. He collapsed down and started mooing in pain. The heifers all jumped and started to run. One heifer paused and turned around to look. The other cows were all headed back to the yard. The snake was moving quickly in the direction of the hesitant heifer. She stood, paralyzed, as the snake moved closer and closer. Mesquite moved quickly. He jumped in front of the snake just as it flew through the air. The snake made contact but Mesquite's tough hide reflected it back to the ground. The snake shook itself a little and slithered off in the other direction. The startled heifer mooed her thanks to Mesquite.

From that day forward, the longhorns were accepted into the herd unconditionally. As they bred with the domestic cows, the herd became a healthy combination of sturdy stock and good milk and meat producers. The longhorns were valued for their ability to ward off the Texas elements and they all lived happily ever after.