HLM -Chapter 1343 Icelandic Horses

The Icelanders take great pride in their Icelandic horses.

In ancient Norse mythology, the steeds of the gods were eight-legged, mile-leaping Icelandic horses, and many club emblems in Iceland still use the image of such a horse. In modern legendary stories, the Icelandic horse often makes appearances as well.

Historically, Iceland suffered frequent pirate raids, and during battles for control of the islands, Icelandic horses were the knights’ best companions. Even today, the tradition of burying heroes with an Icelandic horse is maintained.

For centuries, Icelandic horses were the main mode of transportation and agricultural livestock in the region. But starting in 1904, automobiles replaced them, gradually making them obsolete for work. Fortunately, in the same year, a group of horse enthusiasts established the Icelandic Horse Association, successfully preserving their bloodlines.

Nowadays, Icelandic horses are primarily used for riding and competitions. Their only agricultural role is in the annual sheep roundup, where farmers ride them across highland pastures to herd sheep.

During Wang Bo and his group’s visit, there was a horseback herding demonstration. But first, as an appetizer of sorts, two girls performed equestrian tricks.

Each girl held a beer mug filled to the brim with foam. They mounted their horses, taking the mugs with them, and began performing their routines. Not a single drop of beer spilled during the entire performance, showing just how steady both the girls’ balance and the horses’ gait were.

After ten minutes, the girls rode up to the spectators and handed the beers to two visitors. Wang Bo, being the only Asian among the visitors, was offered a mug by a little blonde girl.

“Here’s the harvest’s fine brew for you. May God bless your days with continued abundance,” the girl said sweetly.

Wang Bo removed a red Chinese knot from the baby’s swaddle and handed it to her, saying, “May our gods bless your horsemanship to grow ever stronger, and may you become more beautiful each day.”

The girl took the bow and laughed happily. She looked about fourteen or fifteen, in the carefree, innocent stage of adolescence. After dismounting, she ran off to show the other girl.

For a moment, the two horses were left unattended. They glanced at each other and suddenly charged together, starting to fight.

A tourist exclaimed, “Is this part of the performance?”

A guide, flustered, said, “No, it’s not. But ‘Faxi’ horses are usually gentle; they don’t normally fight.”

“Faxi” is the local nickname for Icelandic horses, meaning “eye-catching mane,” because of their thick, flowing manes. They are indeed docile. The two girls quickly ran over and grabbed their reins, calming the horses.

Wang Bo wiped the sweat from his palms. Icelandic horses are small only by relative comparison; as large animals, even an accidental hoof strike could seriously injure someone! Seeing the girls handle the fighting horses with ease made him even more interested in them.

After a short break, cowboys performed a real horseback sheep-herding demonstration. Wang Bo wasn’t particularly interested—on his farm, he had even more thrilling horseback lassoing, which required true skill.

Once the herding performance ended, the guide led the visitors to a small fenced area with fine sand on the ground. “This area is for children to try sheep wrestling,” the guide said as he opened the gate.

Icelanders are quite daring in this regard. Sheep wrestling involves kids wrestling with young sheep. It carries some risk, as children might fall and be stepped on. However, the sheep’s hooves are wrapped in soft rubber, which both limits their movement and prevents injury to the children.

There were four children in the group—two boys and two girls. The parents of three of them forbade their children from entering, so they stayed out.

Dale pouted, rolled up her sleeves, and said, “It’s just wrestling this little sheep? Watch me!”

Mother Bo quickly grabbed her. “Oh, my little lady, what are you doing?”

Eva shook her head. “It’s fine; it’s safe. If she wants to play, let her.”

Dale stepped into the sand, familiarized herself with the area, then suddenly sprinted toward the sheep.

The sheep, having been trained for such events, immediately lowered its head to counterattack.

At that moment, a sharp eagle cry rang out from above. A gust of wind brushed past as a large bird, Little Meng, dove from the sky, claws extended toward the sheep. It had mistaken the sheep’s charge for a threat to the girl and swooped in to protect her.

Everyone, including the guide and the cowboys, was stunned. “Where did such a fierce eagle come from?”

Hearing the cry, Wang Bo immediately shouted, “Little Meng, come back!”

His timing was just enough. Little Meng’s dive was astonishingly fast, but it adjusted upon hearing Wang Bo’s voice, not harming the sheep, and instead changed course, flying toward Old Wang with a gust of wind.

With a crisp “swish,” sand flew up from the ground. Wang Bo caught Little Meng and handed it to Eva. The bird cooed softly but kept its sharp gaze fixed on the sheep.

The poor little sheep, terrified, knelt in the sand without the girl even wrestling it. Seeing the sheep cower, the little girl wasn’t afraid at all. She dragged the sheep along, shouting, “Get up, get up! I’m going to wrestle you! Come on!”

The cowboys switched in another sheep. Curious, someone approached Eva and asked about Little Meng. “What kind of bird is this? How is it so obedient?”

Eva smiled politely. “It’s a mutated falcon, very intelligent.”

Little Meng’s appearance shifted the visitors’ attention. Nobody focused on the wrestling anymore—they were all watching the bird.

With the fenced area now lively, the three other children, taking advantage of their parents’ distraction, slipped inside and joined the little girl in wrestling the sheep.

Some held its head, some its tail, and some even tried to ride it. The lamb was completely overwhelmed. Four kids against one little sheep—hardly a fair fight!

After knocking the sheep down, the kids, covered in sand, proudly showed their parents their “victory.” Realizing it was safe, the three other sets of parents stopped restraining their children and began taking photos.

After the tour, there was a farmhouse meal. Essentially a big pot of food, it was marketed as purely organic, natural, and unpolluted, making it somewhat appealing to the visitors.

Wang Bo approached a cowboy and asked, “Hello, friend, I heard your boss wants to sell some foals? I’m interested.”

The cowboy nodded. “Sir, follow me.”