Being that Smoky was still quite a privileged character it helped him considerable thru them long winter months, if he'd see some big horse dig down into a special good grassy spot, he'd take advantage of his standing and chase the big horse away. He looked mighty wicked as he put his ears down, showed his teeth, and delivered a side kick, and the big horse would _act_ scared to death, and get away from the dangerous Smoky in a hurry. There was only one in the bunch that wouldn't scare worth a bit, and that was his mammy, he could paw in the same hole with her and maybe steal a bunch of grass right from under her nose, but there was no chasing _her_ away, most likely there was no such intentions in Smoky's mind anyhow, for the little horse did think an awful lot of that mammy of his, and even tho she never played with him, and even nipped him for some things he'd do, he knowed if a showdown ever come she'd fight to a finish for him. So, as the snows piled high and the ravines filled with drifts, Smoky went on and passed the hard of the winter in near the same carefree reckless way he'd passed the summer before. Of course, pawing for his feed the way he had to was taking some of his energy, but he'd manage to reserve some for play, and many is the time when you'd see the bunch a pawing all intent to reaching the grass, you'd see Smoky tearing up clouds of light snow and a playing for all he was worth. Other colts would join him, and pretty soon the young ones would have the white scenery all tracked the same as if a thousand head of horses had stampeded thru. The winter wore on that way, no events came to shake the quiet and peace of that part of the range, only, one day a rider had showed up against the skyline. Smoky had been the only one to see him on account he was a little ways from the bunch and where he could see around a point. With the sight of that rider Smoky remembered ropes, a corral and human hands, and he sashayed back to the bunch fast as his legs could carry him. Finally, the first sign of spring came, Smoky couldn't appreciate it very much on account that the warm winds which was starting the snow to melting only left him weak and lazy. His blood hadn't started to thin down as yet, and for the first short spell in his life, he had no hankering to crowhop around and play. Then a few weeks later the bare earth begin to show in big spots and on the sunny side of the buttes green grass begin to shoot up. That new green grass tasted mighty good to Smoky, it tasted so good that the dry feed he'd wintered on and which could now be got without pawing for, was only stepped on in hunting for them first blades of green. Nothing but that would do, and as it was still scarce and hard to find that early in the year he covered a lot of territory and got very little feed.