ject too. One of the first mentions of 

 horses is by Capt. Samuel Stephens, 

 who claimed Roanoke Island for his 

 livestock in 1663. 



Before then, more cows, sheep, 

 horses, goats and pigs roamed the north- 

 ern Outer Banks than people. Settlers 

 used the islands to corral their stock, 

 taking advantage of the sound and sea's 

 natural boundaries and ample vegeta- 

 tion. 



From the 1660s to the 1930s, the 

 Outer Banks was cattle country. In 

 1934, the N.C. General Assembly out- 

 lawed open grazing, and the taste of the 

 Wild West in the East faded. But the 

 horses remained free and feral. Because 

 it is believed these horses were once 

 domesticated, we call them feral, not 

 wild. Only one true wild breed of horse, 

 the fierce Przewalski's horse of 

 Mongolia, still exists. 



More recently, many old-timers 

 recall using Banker horses to pull carts 

 of groceries across town, to haul fish 

 nets from the sea or for farming. They 

 remember the men of the U.S. Lifesav- 

 ing Service patrolling the beach on 

 horseback or riding the untamed horses 

 bareback. 



"We'd go out on moonlit nights 

 and catch a horse to ride. It really didn't 

 matter whose horse it was; nobody 

 cared," writes Elisha Ballance of 

 Ocracoke in Conquistadors' Legacy. 



But most of all, Lawton Howard of 

 Ocracoke and other residents of the 

 Outer Banks remember the pony 

 pennings. 



On July 3, typically, locals rode 

 north, driving 200 or 300 "wild" horses 

 to a pen near the village for branding 

 and selling. 



"At 2 a.m., we'd go up to Hatteras 

 Inlet," he recalls. "If d be 1 a.m. the next 

 day before we got back here." 



Rich memories like these cause 

 people to support the horses' unconfined 

 existence in Currituck, Hyde and 

 Carteret counties. 



"They're really part of the history," 

 Dorm an says. 



Currituck County residents have 

 kept a watchful eye on the local herd 

 since 1989. 



"The vast majority want to see 

 those horses preserved and protected," 

 Bowden says. 



The horses and people coexisted 

 peacefully in the northeastern Carolina 



county until an extension of N.C. 12 

 was laid in 1984. Development boomed, 

 and residents began complaining that 

 the herd was chewing up their carefully 



MORE RECENTLY, 

 MANY OLD-TIMERS RECALL 

 USING BANKER HORSES 

 TO PULL CARTS OF 

 GROCERIES ACROSS TOWN, 

 TO HAUL FISH NETS FROM 

 THE SEA OR FOR FARMING. 

 THEY REMEMBER THE MEN OF 

 THE U.S. LIFESAVING SERVICE 

 PATROLLING THE BEACH 



ON HORSEBACK OR 

 RIDING THE UNTAMED 

 HORSES BAREBACK 



sown lawns. The horses found the suc- 

 culent grass more tasty than their nor- 

 mal diet of marsh grass and sea oats. 



Then the problem got worse. In 

 1989, cars speeding down the winding 

 stretch killed four mares, three of which 

 were pregnant, Dorman recounts. Since 

 then, 14 horses have died from car acci- 

 dents. The common denominators are 

 speed and darkness, she says. 



In 1989, after the first horses were 

 killed, the Corolla Wild Horse Fund 

 organized. 



"Our goal is always to protect and 

 preserve these mustangs," Dorman says. 

 "That's been our number one goal from 

 day one. 



"We wanted it to be that they 

 would be free -roaming," she says. 

 "We've tried that for four years. It's not 

 working. It's just a matter of time before 

 a person's going to be hurt." 



The Corolla Fund, now 1 ,500 

 members strong, prints educational 

 leaflets by the thousands, advising tour- 

 ists not to feed the horses and to keep 

 their distance. It has erected signs along 

 N.C. 12 and, with the county, helped 

 establish a sanctuary that offers extra 

 protection by making it a misdemeanor 



Continued 



COASTWATCH 7 



