He rode the wind, mustering cattle
Cattle grazing on lush green land
Land he was raised on; High Country
Country where snow lay deep as sand.

Mountains kiss the bright blue fall
Fall at home; now blazing desert and alone
Alone and wounded; his horse waited
Waited for her master's whistle call

Him for help, she looked down
Down at the broken soldier dying
Dying alone except for his horse
Horse listened to whispered sighing.

She walked towards him shaking head
Head of roan, so beautiful, nuzzled
Nuzzled his face where tears ran down
Down, not out as he thought, puzzled.


Help, his horse dragged him by stirrup
Stirrup held, horse slow, shouting heard
Heard men ploughing through the sand
Sand, men grunted, lifted him no word

Word, no. He grinned at his saviour men
Men called mare's name she whinnied reply
Reply to her name, she would come
Come help him, she knew her master's cry.