The day we meet Sunday…! Part One…

The day we met Sunday.. !   ( Part One )

My good horse riding friend Mary and myself, had been working with our local Dept of Conversation as well as the Canterbury Conservation Society for some time working through the feasibility of incorporating horse trekking on various parts of the new formed St James Conservation Park after the sale of the historic St James Station..

We were granted the go ahead to see how horses would suit following the already existing St James Walkway

Mary and I had worked thru a brand new horse trek plan that would take up to 9 days duration, starting at our meeting point at the historic St James homestead site, where we unloaded the horses, then saddled both the Pack horse and todays riding horse..

Setting out following the horse pack track up to Peters Pass, then down into the Edwards river, eventually passing the famous Scotties hut, then up over Charlies Saddle, and down the otherside to the shores of the mighty Waiau River, a river that is often deep and fast flowing with large boulders in the river bed…

Some five hours later after successfully crossing the river we arrived out at a little hut on the river terrace called the Pool hut, our overnight destination….

Next morning we were up bright and early, eager to start exploring some of St James finest mountain country scenery that we had heard about..

Leaving the Pools hut and again on a pack track heading north following the Waiau river far below, we climbed and descended saddle spur, with our first views of the beautiful Ada valley, and the Henry river to our left in which we were heading up this day…

It was while descending the Saddle spur and then sidling along the gentle hillside track that I noticed something small move that was under a matagouri bush some one hundred metres in front and out to the top side of the track..

I pointed it out to Mary as the “Thing” moved once more, and as we drew closer I realized it was a very young foal lying down..

I said to Mary its mother wont be too far away, and if she appears be ready to keep a tight rein on your horses, as mares can be very aggressive if we get between her and her foal..

In St James, there are four separate mobs of wild horses that had been left to roam the area after the DoC took over and with public liking this these herds have been allowed to stay, but are number managed annually..

I said to Mary, that when mares have their foal, the foals are too weak to follow and move with the large mob of mares and foals, so often the mother will feed her young then Stach it in long grass for an hour or so while she goes off feeding , returning often to care for it..

We rode up level with this foal, and all at once it must have thought…MUM… and came down all bandy legged to greet us.. I estimated it to be only a couple or three weeks old, but we didnt want it hanging around our horses, so we continued along the trail..

The foal started calling out in its tiny naaaa voice as it tried to follow us, so said to Mary we better try and trot along for a while, even though we had two pack horses which should only really walk with their loads.

Arriving down to the Henry river we rode straight through with water a couple feet deep and some 40 odd metres wide, thinking this is where the foal will stop, but no…… it floundered and splashed, and fell over a couple of times, calling out all the while but somehow made it across and rejoined us….DARN….!

I was now thinking that when MUM finds her foal missing and follows its scent along the trail to where we are there could be a bit of trouble.. BIG TROUBLE….

We knew the main mob of Mares and Foals usually roam largely in the Henry river delta, and as we approached the Anne hut some 6 kilometres up this river we spotted the mob up ahead around a kilometre away..

We decided to stop here with two things hopefully going our way.. firstly the foal continued called out, and secondly we had the wind behind us to hopefully carry its Naaaa calling out so the wild herd could hear it and come looking…Dismounting and being ready incase this mob came visiting we waited and waited…

To the contrary, the mob, upon spotting us, galloped off far ahead and disappeared… again Darn it..

To this end, we now needed to come up with some sort of plan to deal with this incessant character who has decided to adopt us, as Mary and I were to head into some deep mountain country for quite a few days, and knowing both a young foal wouldnt have the strength and stamina coupled with the fact that we didnt have any foal rearing milk with us, it would not survive..

A few years prior the original Anne Hut was burnt to the ground, and its original site still had its animal proof fence intact, just a couple of kilometres further on so we decided to head there, set up camp inside the small paddock and leave the foal on the outside, and hopefully over night MUM would hear the calling and come fetch its young in…

Once the camp was set up we took our horses and junior down for a drink in the Anne river, and noticed the foal drinking… ( probably his first taste of water), but none the least we had nothing else to offer it…Being wild when I sidled up close, he just looked at me so put my hand on his back and he gave the cutest little buck, as if to say….. Hands off mate.. but as our horses grazed by the river it didnt take long until the foal relaxed and allowed Mary and myself to interact with it…. We soon realized it was a boy horse, so initially we started calling him BOY….

Sandflies were out in droves as with most parts of St James, and it was so cute to watch BOY trying to nibble on bits of grass and feeling a sandfly bite tried to swish it with his 6 inch long tail…. so funny to watch..!

So as evening fell, we popped all our horses inside this paddock and left BOY outside, and man, he didnt like this one bit… calling out even more now and trying his best to get through the wire fence to be with his new big mates, both Mary and I were sure with all this racket MUM would hear him miles away and come get him…

Morning arrived and peering out the tent to see if our plan had worked, we were greeted with a very loud morning wake up NAAAAAAA, from BOY….I see you are still here then I called out…hmmmmm.

With little choice Mary and I decided to stay put here today and tonight allowing more time for foal and mother to be reunited…Next morning, NO CIGAR… once again

Growing increasingly worried that the foal need milk and lots of it, we again wondered what to do about it..Then Mary said…. you go on with the original plan of doing the intended circuit, and once you are out of site I will take my horses and BOY back down the river and try and cross the Waiau and head around to the Stanley Vale hut where we could get some help from Sean who lived there…

So upon agreeance I departed into an adventure as it turned out, all of its own travelling on a mountain route not designed for horse use but this is another story for another day…

Five days later, with some war wounds as such my two horses and myself arrived back at St James homestead to see a note left on my windscreen to bring my horse float up to the Fowler hut some seventeen kilometers up from the homestead.

Arriving up at the hut I was met with Mary, her Husband Geoff and a couple of friends, half carrying half walking BOY who was looking very very weak, down off the hill track towards the hut…

Mary and BOY had made it through the Waiau River and around to StanleyVale to find Sean not there, so decided to press on up the Fowlers pass, but nearing the top poor little foal had collapsed, and fallen off the track down some twenty odd metres and landed totally exhausted in some long grass…

Mary feeling helpless with two of her own horses on this narrow hill pack rack had little option but to leave BOY where he was and rode out all the way to the Fowler hut, then all the way back down to St James homestead site, dropped her horses in one of the paddocks there and drove as quickly as she could back over the hill to Hanmer to summon help..

Returning very early next morning all four walked back up the Fowlers Pass track armed with quite a number of litres of rearing milk hoping the lad was still alive..

Apparently, they had quite a job to lift the foal back up onto the track then two by two carried him all the way down to the fowler hut…

So BOY, had survived his ordeal , but now what are we to do with him.. he wasnt ours, but he certainly needed checking over and feeding at the very least….

Part Two, tells the story of his unusual new direction in his life, and after a short discussion Mary and I decided he needed a name…… we found him… or should I say he found us on a Sunday…. So the name Sunday has stuck..!

Photos below  top left.. BOY with us as we approach the Anne hut and seeing ahead the mob of Mares and Foals

Top right.. Whats that under that Matagouri Bush.?

Bottom Left.. BOY following us as we turn towards the Henry River..