A dozen or so Dartmoor Hill Ponies are huddled in small groups on the misty moor before us, with tails swishing, nostrils flaring gently and tangled manes blowing in the breeze.

Several are dozing with heads nodding low, bodies still. Others fuss over each other, nibbling at their backs with strong yellow teeth, satisfying the odd itch and gently whickering as their sweet, horsey smell drifts over.

A furry foal leaps and bounds and then takes shelter by her mother under the drizzle.

Two at the back are romping like teenagers - rearing up, play-fighting, jostling each other, then pausing to graze. Just as they have for nearly 4,500 years.

Because these wild ponies - none bigger than 12-and-a-half-hands high - are astonishingly hardy.

Ever since the Bronze Age, they have endured icy winters, blizzards and frozen streams, buffeting winds and hot, dry summers. Adapting and surviving thanks to their unique genetics, passed down through countless generations to today's 1,000-strong herd.

And doing their bit to keep the 365-square-mile moor's delicate ecosystem in balance.

But, sadly, not for much longer.

Because if Natural England gets its way, most of them will be culled in October - taken off the moors, euthanised with bolt guns and sent to the knacker's yard. And the herd will be utterly decimated.

Yes, you read correctly, it is Natural England - the Government quango responsible for protecting the country's land, flora and fauna - which has opened the door to a potential cull.

All of which has, not surprisingly, caused a right old furore.

It started when the organisation ruled that the 'stocking density' - the number of livestock that farmers are permitted to keep - must be reduced on Dartmoor by between 50 and 89 per cent, to prevent overgrazing, which reduces biodiversity.

And to the horror of farmers, landowners, conservationists and, particularly, members of the charity Friends of The Dartmoor Hill Pony (The Friends), for the first time wild ponies were regarded as livestock.

This means that farmers who graze their animals on the moor will be forced to choose between their cattle and sheep, which pay the bills, and their ponies, which don't - despite attracting visitors from all around the world, as the emblem of Dartmoor National Park since 1951 and a crucial part of the heritage here.

George Abel's family have been farming near Tavistock for more than 300 years, running a mixture of 400 head of beef cattle, just under 3,000 sheep and a herd of more than 100 wild ponies, which, until now, were not included in Natural England's livestock mix.

'We love the ponies - we've had a herd for five generations. But they're forcing us into a corner because however much we want to keep them, we can't afford not to cull them,' says George, 31.

'They're taking away our ability to make a livelihood - the whole thing is another nail in the coffin for the Dartmoor community.'

For as long as anyone can remember, the ponies have been part of the rugged landscape. Different colours and sizes, but all with the same genetic makeup.

Every autumn, they are gathered in 'drifts' from the local commons by farmers who run the different herds along with their commercial livestock, to give welfare checks, make sure they're all branded and remove any surplus foals to be sold - so the population remains steady - before returning them to the wild.

'They are part of Dartmoor - part of the ecosystem and part of our lives. Have been for centuries,' says Jo Lovemore, a member of The Friends. 'So all this feels crazy.'

It doesn't help that the pervading feeling around here is that Natural England, branded 'woke' by its critics, either doesn't fully understand the issues at stake or doesn't want to.

There do seem to be some worrying disconnects.

For starters, the fact that the organisation chose to reject the findings of the 2023 Fursdon Review (the Independent Review of Protected Site Management on Dartmoor) which was commissioned by the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs to resolve disputes over habitat conservation.

In fact, under recommendation 27, the review urged that Dartmoor's hill ponies be treated as invaluable for conservation grazing and managed separately from cattle in grazing limits.

'They said to increase the number of ponies, not cull them!' says Jo.

Instead, Natural England appears to have based its decision on research carried out in a different ecosystem in the northern uplands and Cumbria - with grazing pressures, but no wild ponies.

'Which is madness,' says Jo. 'Because these wild ponies graze completely differently to other animals, eating the old wiry Molinia grass, which no other animals want, and which actively improves the biodiversity.'

As we stand in the drizzle and the ponies chew on and on, she points out that just eight years ago the whole area around us was waist-high in Molinia. Giant dry tufts, impossible to walk through and a huge fire risk. It blankets out other plants, pushing out the light so wild seeds can't germinate, flowers don't grow and butterflies and insects are affected.

'The ponies eating this grass is the best tool we have to improve biodiversity,' she says. 'Take them out and the careful order starts imploding. The water holes will grow over and then you lose the invertebrates, too.'

Not forgetting the pony dung for the insects that the birdlife relies on.

Much more worryingly though, is the inevitability that any cull would be catastrophic to the future of the herd.

Over the past 25 years, numbers have plummeted from 7,000 to 1,000, putting them on the Rare Breed Survival Trust's watchlist.

If they dip much more below current numbers, they'll die out.

And these are not just wild ponies, but animals with a pure bloodline and unique genetic code dating back to when Stonehenge was built. They can survive in this harsh environment on Molinia grass and gorse, where other ponies would fade.

They also pass herd knowledge down through generations - where the water holes are, where to shelter in storms, when and where to head for the drifting lanes.

No wonder endless scientific papers have been written about them and studied all around the world. Because they really are wild animals - a novelty in Britain in 2026 - and we can learn so much from them.

'With 'wildies' you learn a different language,' says Sheila Robson, 66, who worked with a thoroughbred breeding programme in a previous career, but now volunteers with The Friends. 'It might be eye contact, or a flick of an ear or a blink of eyes - they have different ways of communicating and you have to learn it to gain their trust. They come from another time.'

Indeed, watching them perched up on the moor, with the wind blowing and the air heavy with mist we could be in any century. And they look so peaceful and calm that it's easy to forget the bitter row swirling around them.

'Half the problem is that Natural England just don't understand,' says Jo. 'But also they won't talk to us, however much we've tried to engage with them.'

The organisation, meanwhile, denies ordering a cull of ponies.

Last week, Natural England defended its position and said it was not trying to remove ponies from Dartmoor. However, it said decisions about which animals were grazed on Dartmoor rested 'with individual landowners not with Natural England'.

It said: 'Our role is to provide evidence-based advice on how to protect and restore designated habitats. We are aware of concerns that including ponies in livestock unit calculations could lead some land managers favouring more commercially profitable cattle or sheep. Our advisers work closely with individual agreement holders to provide tailored advice to improve nature and support businesses.'

But the farmers say that the wording is as good as an order and are deeply frustrated that Natural England never listens to them.

'They seem dead against taking any sort of knowledge or recommendation from the rural communities,' says George Abel. 'But if we hadn't learned a thing or two over the last 300 years, then we wouldn't still be here farming!'

Not that he's confident that the Abels will be farming on Dartmoor for much longer.

'This is my life, culture - what I've been born and bred to do - and it's all being stripped away, evaporating around me. It's heartbreaking.'

Earlier this year, The Friends launched a petition calling for Natural England to remove ponies from the new grazing agreements, which has more than 148,000 signatories so far, and has gathered support nationally and globally.

Last week, Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch described the plan as 'total madness', while Nigel Farage accused the quango of 'environmental vandalism'.

Downing Street responded by saying the Labour government would not allow a cull, insisting the ponies are safe.

But the campaigners won't be happy until Natural England remove the ponies from the livestock definition.

'We can't allow it,' says Jo. 'It's an irreversible reduction - once you take those ponies out, they cannot be replaced.'

So in September the campaigners, along with six ponies that were removed in previous drifts as foals to be trained, will present their petition at Downing Street and pray.

'It just can't happen,' says Jo. 'I mean, look at them!'

And I do and she's right. Because as they stand there in the tufty grass, some grey, some chestnut, some bay and a couple piebald, swishing their tails, flicking their manes, pricking up their ears and chewing, as they have since about 2500BC, it is impossible to make any sense of the recommendations at all.