Barbara Winder The Problem of Wild Horses “Many wild horses are small, scrawny, and often undernourished. . . . Yet, these wild horses are increasing at an astonishing rate.”—Dr. Walt Conley   Wild horses graze under a ripening moon up country in Carson Forest. Unlike tame horses who lie down in stalls, they will sleep all night under the stars, tails giving an occasional flip against flies. It’s good they don’t know how old they are, or that winter is always coming, or that somewhere there are bins of grain and bales of hay.   Wild horsed gallop on the dry river-bed. Red flags quiver in their nostrils when they run. They don’t know to be ashamed of their washboard ribs.   At night if I close my eyes tame mares and geldings go through their paces shining and predictable. So I lie with my eyes open, hoping to see the watering-hole where wild horses drink. If I am lucky, some night I might even lie beside them, sucking the good water between my teeth.