The Black Stallion (13 page)

The stallion reared again and then raced down the field, swerving and throwing his hind legs in the air. He tried desperately to get rid of the saddle. Alec and Henry watched him as he plunged around the field. Suddenly the Black reared high on his legs and then fell over backward. They heard the saddle break.

“There it goes,” said Alec.

“If he doesn’t get it off, it’ll be worth it!” answered Henry.

The Black finally climbed to his feet. The saddle was torn and broken, but still on his back. Again the stallion raced up the field, his excited eyes shifting from one side to the other. As he neared them, Alec whistled. The stallion swept past them. Alec whistled again. Suddenly the Black stopped, half-reared and turned. His ears pricked forward and he stood still for a few seconds. Then he was off again down the field, swerving and kicking.

“It’s a good thing you were able to get that cinch tight, Henry!”

“Yeah,” answered Henry, his eyes still following the Black.

Alec whistled again when the stallion came up the field. The Black stopped about thirty feet from them. Alec cautiously walked toward him.

“What’s the matter, fella? Frightened of that saddle on your back?”

The stallion turned and Alec thought he was going to run down the field again. Instead he circled and then stood still. Alec put his hand in his pocket and drew out some sugar. He held it out toward the Black. “Here, Boy.” Slowly he walked up to him and gave him the sugar. He stroked the long, sleek neck. “You’ll get used to it, fella.” He saw that the saddle was pretty well damaged but still usable.

“Walk him around a few minutes, Alec,” Henry shouted.

Alec took the Black by the lead rope and started down the field. The stallion stepped lightly along, every once in a while throwing his hind legs in the air. Ten minutes later Alec led him back to Henry. “He isn’t so bad now,” he said.

“Hop on him then, and let’s see what happens.”

“Okay,” answered Alec, moving toward the left side of the stallion.

Henry gave the boy a boost and he landed in the saddle. A fraction of a second later he found himself flying through the air. The ground rushed up at him. Alec managed to draw his feet up under him and break his fall. He lay still a moment, his body aching. Henry rushed over and knelt down beside him. “Hurt, son?” he asked anxiously.

“Guess not, Henry. Just a little jarred.”

Henry ran his fingers over Alec’s legs. “Try getting
to your feet,” he said. Alec pulled himself up. He was unsteady for a moment, and then his head began to clear. He saw the Black a few feet away. The stallion looked at him and then came forward. He pushed his nose into Alec’s side pocket. “Seems just like old times on the island,” Alec said. He turned to Henry. “Why does he throw me just because he has a saddle on his back?”

“Guess it’s just one of those things, Alec. You never know how a horse like this is going to act,” Henry answered. “He isn’t used to the saddle yet, and I don’t think he really knew you were on his back; all he could feel was that extra weight. Now this time talk to him like you always have before, let him know you’re getting on—guess we sort of sneaked up on him then. Let him feel your arms and legs.”

“Okay, Henry.” Alec once again went to the Black’s left side.

“Sure you feel all right?” Henry asked. “Want to wait a few minutes?”

“No,” replied Alec. He looked at the stallion and held the halter with his two hands. “Now listen, fella, take it easy!” The stallion shook his head, almost taking Alec off his feet.

Alec kept talking into the Black’s ear, and his hand ran up and down the stallion’s neck. Then he was in the saddle! The Black reared, but this time Alec was prepared. Up he went with the stallion high into the air, both hands grasping the Black’s mane. The stallion came down and bolted across the field. Alec leaned forward and kept talking to him. The stallion’s speed didn’t slacken, and Alec thought he was in for another
ride like the one on the island. Suddenly he found that he was able to guide the stallion—he had control of him. He turned him away from the fence and up the field again. They swept past Henry, and Alec shouted, “Okay!” The stallion didn’t have room enough to run as fast as he wanted to, and after a short while, Alec managed to slow him down and bring him to a stop near Henry.

“Nice going, Alec,” Henry said, gripping the Black’s halter. “We’ll put the bridle on him right away.”

“But don’t you think he’s kind of tired, Henry?”

“That’s one of the reasons why I want to do it now,” Henry answered. “Besides, I don’t think he’s going to mind this as much as the saddle; it has a very light racing bit, and isn’t much more than the halter he’s got on now.”

“You’re the boss, Henry,” Alec said. “How’ll we do it?”

“You stay right on his back. I’ll get the bit in his mouth, and then you can draw the bridle right over his head.”

“Okay,” Alec said, as Henry moved in front of the Black.

Henry’s experienced hands had the bit in the Black’s mouth within a few minutes. Alec quickly drew the bridle over the stallion’s head. The Black shook his head and moved uneasily around in a circle. Alec let him alone. For fifteen minutes he let the Black get used to the bit, then he guided him down the field. Carefully, and in much the same manner as he had done back on the island, Alec taught the Black to turn right and left by a slight touch of the rein. There wasn’t much difference
between Alec’s old way and the use of the reins, and the Black caught on quickly.

Alec rode back to Henry and dismounted. Henry smiled. “That, Alec,” he said, “is what I call a good day’s work.”

“Sure is, Henry.” Alec rubbed the Black’s nose. “Nice going, Boy,” he said proudly.

The sun was sinking behind Manhattan’s skyscrapers in the distance as the man, the boy and the horse made their way back toward the barn.

Alec glanced at his wrist watch as he hurried away from the still-dark house where his mother and father were sleeping. One o’clock. It was two weeks since they had broken the Black to bridle and saddle. The full moon was high overhead; the stars were out; a warm spring breeze blew against his face. Henry would be waiting.

He reached the gate and let himself in. The truck Henry had borrowed was standing beside the barn. Henry was leaning against it.

“Everything all set, Henry?” Alec whispered.

“All set,” came the quiet answer. He opened the barn door carefully so as not to make any noise. “Don’t put on the light,” he said over his shoulder, as Alec followed him inside.

The Black neighed when he heard them. Old Napoleon stuck his head out of his stall and neighed, too.

“Shhhh,” said Alec and Henry together.

“Get over there and quiet them,” Henry said. “I’ll get the tack.”

Alec put a hand on each of their noses. “Take it easy, boys,” he said. “We don’t want to wake anyone up, you know.”

The horses recognized him now in the moonlight. The Black tossed his head gently; Napoleon brushed his long tongue around the boy’s hand.

Henry returned, carrying the bridle and saddle. “Okay,” he said. “Bring him out.”

Alec led the Black out of his stall, without removing his blanket. The stallion stepped skittishly, his hoofs shaking the barn floor.

“Hey, Alec,” Henry cautioned, “try to get him to stand still! He’s going to wake the Missus sure as shootin’!”

“I’ll try, Henry,” the boy answered. “He seems pretty nervous, though; guess he isn’t used to being awakened in the middle of the night!” The Black looked back at Napoleon and whinnied as Alec led him toward the barn door. Then Henry closed the door behind them.

Suddenly Napoleon neighed inside the barn—louder than either of them had ever heard him before.

“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!” said Henry, as he ran toward the barn. “We’ll never get out of here without waking someone up!”

The Black raised his head high in the air, his ears pitched forward, and he answered Napoleon’s call. Alec looked at him, then at the barn.

“Henry,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve got an idea. Why not take Napoleon with us? The two of them can fit into the truck—and I’ve a feeling it’ll make the Black a lot easier to handle, besides being a lot quieter.”

Henry looked thoughtfully at the restless stallion. “Okay,” he finally said. “It’s worth trying.” A minute later he led Napoleon toward the truck.

The Black neighed softly when he saw him, and Alec had no trouble getting him up the ramp into the truck. Henry followed with Napoleon. “Now,” said Henry, “we not only have to get this moving van back to the guy I borrowed it from before six, but we have to get Napoleon back to Tony as well!”

“It’s only one-thirty now,” Alec said.

“We have to be over there by two.” Henry climbed into the driver’s seat and Alec sat beside him. A minute later the truck was moving down the driveway. Only the sound of hoofs came from the back of the van.

Henry drove rapidly through the darkened streets, and half an hour later they pulled up in front of a high iron gate. He touched the horn lightly twice. Over the gate Alec made out the name
BELMONT
. A glimpse of white caught his eye. Two hands grasped the bars, and a head topped with snow-white hair peered through.

“That you, Henry?” an aged high-pitched voice asked.

Henry leaned far out over the side of the car. “Yeah, Jake—it’s me,” he answered softly. “Everything okay?”

“Okay,” came the answer.

Alec heard the rattle of keys, then the turning of the lock. A moment later the gate swung open. Henry put the car in gear and drove through. The gate was closed behind him. Henry didn’t stop; he drove as if he knew his way around.

“Who was that, Henry?” Alec asked.

Henry kept his eyes on the graveled road in front of him, but Alec noticed a slight smile on his lips. “That’s Jake,” he answered. “We’ve been pals from ’way back. In fact,” he grinned, “Jake taught me to ride. I was just a kid who loved horses and I wanted to ride, but I’d never even been on a horse. I used to go around and watch the early morning workouts, dreaming of the day when I’d be out there on some thoroughbred. Jake was a well-known jockey then—and I guess I sorta idolized him, but then all the kids did. Well, I guess Jake took me in hand just because he couldn’t get rid of me. Anyway, he taught me ’most everything I know—and if I’ve been a success, he’s the reason for it. Jake later went into training horses—and now he’s sorta, well—retired, I guess you could call it.”

Henry paused as he carefully turned a corner. Then he continued, “Y’know, Alec, horses are kind of like the sea, you’ll find out—once you get used to ’em and learn to love ’em, you can’t ever give them up. That’s Jake and that’s me. Jake’s only the watchman around here now, but he loves it. There are horses training around here most of the year, and the track’ll be opening up pretty soon, so he’s content.” Henry brought the truck to a stop beside the track.

“Are you sure no one’s around, Henry?” Alec asked.

“Sure,” answered Henry. “There are only a few horses in training and Jake’s keeping an eye on them, so we practically have the place to ourselves.”

Henry had pulled up beside an unloading ramp. They jumped out and went around to open the back doors. The horses whinnied as Alec climbed in beside them. The stallion threw back his head and tried to break free.

Alec grasped him by the halter. “Whoa, fella, take it easy,” he said. He backed the Black out onto the ramp and then down to the ground.

Henry followed with Napoleon. “It’ll be a good thing to have Napoleon around where the Black can see him,” he said. “Now you’d better walk the Black up and down a few times to get him loosened up.”

“Okay,” Alec said.

A few minutes later, when he walked the Black back toward the truck, he heard old Jake’s high-pitched voice again and saw the little white-haired man talking to Henry. “Bejabbers, Henry,” he was saying, “don’t tell me that gray imitation of a hoss there is the champion that I’m riskin’ my job for!”

Henry laughed. “Bejabbers yourself, Jake,” he said. “Don’t jump to conclusions so fast. You haven’t seen this gray devil run yet.”

“I’m too old a hand around here, my lad, for you to make me believe this critter can do anything but go around that track in a walk—bejabbers, I am,” Jake replied.

Alec couldn’t help laughing. Jake heard him and turned. Then he saw the Black, and his mouth opened wide. Slowly he walked toward the stallion. The Black
reared a little, but Alec quieted him down. Jake went around him, his eyes covering every inch of the Black.

Henry came up. “Well, Jake,” he said, after a minute of silence, “what do you think of him?”

Jake looked up at him. “You sure were right, Henry. You’ve got a real horse here.”

“Worth risking your job for?” Henry smiled.

“Worth risking my job for,” the old man answered, nodding his head. “Haven’t seen a horse like him”—he continued—“since Chang.”

“That’s just what I told Alec,” Henry said. He winked at Alec. “Jake,” he said, “meet the owner of this black stallion, Alec Ramsay—Alec, this is Jake.”

Alec grasped the old man’s hand in a warm clasp, and was surprised at the strength in Jake’s fingers. “Glad to know you, son,” Jake said.

“And I’m glad to know you, sir,” answered Alec. “It was awfully nice of you to let us in here. Henry and I certainly appreciate it.”

“Glad to do it,” Jake replied. “Guess Henry knows my weakness. When he said you had a champion, I had to see for myself.”

“You’ll never change, Jake.” Henry laughed.

“ ’Fraid not.” The old man grinned.

The Black tossed his head, and the night breeze blew his mane. “He’s rarin’ to go, Henry,” Alec said.

“Okay, I’ll get the saddle.” Henry moved toward the truck. “Stick around, Jake,” he said over his shoulder, “and you’ll see the fastest thing on four legs.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not a-goin’,” Jake answered. “Come on, son.” He turned to Alec. “We’ll take him down near the gate.”

A few minutes later Henry came up and threw the saddle on the Black. The stallion pranced easily, then reared a little when Henry tightened the cinch. Alec and Jake put the bridle on him.