War Mares for Sharon
The heathen Mohammit was thrashing around out in the desert because he'd got hold of some bad ganja one afternoon. He had a ferocious chin ache because he kept stepping on his beard causing him to fall face first into the sand, getting it in his eyes; couldn't find the water he knew was out there somewhere. Several tortuous hours later he started hearing things: a bugle sounded, something like what would be heard at Churchill Downs and a deep sonorous voice boomed out "ANNND, they're off!!!" followed by the thunderous roar of horsebeats. Exactly 95 horses then ran right over top him on their way to the water hole. He cursed them fervently, wondering whether his chin or his bleary eyes or his pummeled body hurt the most. Then he started seeing things! Man, this was some nasty bhang.
Visions of demi-women (invisible from the waist up, blessed with shapely proportions from the waist down, adorned with softly swishing veil between their legs) tormented him with carnal thoughts. He reached out but their long striding walk and the slightly swinging motion of their hind quarters and veils stayed a pace ahead. The sonorous voice returned " be asil of thought and deed and I will reward you with fame and power. People you don't like will be killed and I'll help you write a book, spell the words and all. Plus, I'll lead you to water now and you'll live. ...otherwise .....". Thus a war raged in Mohammit's heart. Leap upon these visions of pleasure incarnate or be asil of body and soul, plus live beyond this afternoon. To assess the potential of choice number one, he lunged towards the closest demi-women and fell splat in a pool of mucky water. His vision cleared and he saw the demi-women were actually five mares!! He was saved! He babbled; cried out Allah be praised. In gratitude he shouted his precepts to the superior caste of Bedouins sitting around the pool talking about the heat. He seemed just crazy enough to be divine. So they listened as he exhorted them to:
1 never hit their horses because they'd break whatever
they used on'em and wouldn't help anyhow. If they had to hit something pick a woman or small child.
2 choose a sub-compact model horse with low maintenance and good mileage like these 5 mares here.
3 keep the little suckers in the tents with them so they wouldn't run off.
4 prize the ones with large heads and bulging forheads that showed they were chock full of horse sense.
5 follow the "keep it in the family" policy of breeding at least stay in the clan if no family was available.
6 commemorate these five chubby little mares as the mares of the Prophet.
Have Fun!
(This story seems to ask for some background information. Here it is in the original words of another writer:)
This Sharon just woke up! It was one of the other Sharons who posed the question.
Although I found Bob's account of the "Five Mares of the Prophet" to be the most colorful description I've yet read, the following explanation appears in The Arabian: A Guide for Owners by (ahem!) Sharon Byford, and is offered in counterpoint to Bob's (shall we say unusual?) account:
"The famous story of Al Khamsa (The Five) tells of a group of exhausted, thirsty war mares turned loose near water. As they eagerly raced toward it, the trumpet sounded a call to battle. Only five of the mares responded to the command, and these were chosen to produce the Bedouins' future war horses. According to some versions of the story, these mares were the founders of five major strains (families) of Arabian horses."
Regards to all, including Bob, who sometimes gets his women mixed up but can always spin a fascinating yarn!
Sharon Byford-Ruth