Girls smelling of urine brushing horses beneath pine trees. Heat swelling in the shade and the horses are edgy angry. Moving from the girls and the horses deeper under the pines. Then the drumming hoofbeats and me clinging to a tree for safety peering through its forked trunk. Chasing a small pony the herd’s white teeth are champing at his sweating rump and he is crying with a human voice. I must avoid them. “Here he is!” comes the chanting of the horses and with raised legs they are passing the severed head of the pony into my waiting hands.