Son of the Black Stallion (17 page)

Luck was with him, for Satan had started to turn when the rope tightened. Then, with Henry’s sudden pull, Satan was thrown off balance. He slipped on
the wet grass, stumbled, and with a shriek of terror went down.

Henry bolted forward, the second lasso whirling in his hand. He was beside himself with fury. “I got you, you devil,” he yelled savagely, almost incoherently. The times when Satan had come close to killing him were all merged together in his mind, and he was in a blinding passion to overcome this horse. His face was as hideous as the black demon in front of him. For he was no longer a trainer of horses, but a hunter of them … and the moment of triumph was near.

Keeping away from the pawing hoofs, Henry let fly the second rope, while he kept the first one taut about Satan’s neck. It settled over the horse’s nose, and Henry tightened the noose, shutting the gaping mouth. Then he threw himself upon the savage head, shoving it down to the ground with his knees. As Satan screamed in rage, Henry drew the second rope over the colt’s ears and around his head, tightening it. Then the old man’s hand swept to the pocket of his jacket and furiously he withdrew a long white rag. He pulled it over the wild eyes of the horse, completely blindfolding him.

Henry stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily, and still holding the horse’s head down hard on the ground. “You asked for it, Satan,” he gasped. “You asked for it, and now you’re goin’ to learn who’s boss.”

Finally Henry let go of Satan’s head and moved quickly away from the horse until he neared the end of the two lassoes. The fight had only just begun.

Satan got up slowly, his giant body shaking. He tossed his head savagely, trying to rid himself of the
blindfold. He shrieked again, and Henry’s face turned white at the fury that possessed this horse. Wild and blinded, Satan was apt to do anything. He might even kill or cripple himself as a last resort. For a fraction of a second, Henry thought of Alec, and then Satan’s movements commanded all of his attention again.

Cautiously Satan turned, afraid of what he could not see. And just as cautiously, Henry moved around him, carefully carrying the two ropes around the horse’s legs. Suddenly Satan snorted and, rearing, rose to his full height.

Henry waited for him to come down, but before the horse’s forelegs could strike the ground and Satan regain his balance, the old man jerked hard on the ropes encircled about Satan’s hind legs.

His feet pulled out from under him, Satan crashed heavily to the ground. Quickly he was on his feet again, his body trembling, seeking his opponent. He plunged in Henry’s direction, but the old trainer had no trouble getting around the blindfolded horse. Once more the ropes encircled Satan’s legs, and when they became taut Henry pulled back. The horse went down hard for the second time.

“It ain’t fair, but you’ve gotta learn,” Henry said grimly. He knew it couldn’t go on much longer; the colt’s spirit or body had to break under those crushing falls.

Satan had gone down heavily several more times, and Henry’s body ached from the strain of pulling the colt off his feet. Then, suddenly, Satan changed his tactics. No longer did he run blindly until the ropes pulled him up and Henry threw him to the ground. Instead he
tried to figure out where his opponent was by his scent; then he would plunge toward Henry, and only come to a halt when his uncanny sense told him he had run the length of the ropes which bound him. He would turn then and stand still, his nostrils quivering and his feet firmly implanted upon the ground before plunging again in the direction of the hated man scent.

He came close to Henry many times, and only the old man’s renewed alertness kept him from being hurt by the flying hoofs. But as the minutes passed and Henry found himself tiring rapidly, he began seriously to doubt that anyone would ever master this horse. The falls Satan had taken had only served to bring out all the vengeance and hate in his giant body, and now he was lunging to kill … and Henry knew that if the blinder slipped he wouldn’t have a chance.

As Satan plunged past again, narrowly missing Henry, the old man saw that they were nearing the hollow, and his eyes found the tall, lone maple tree which grew on the rim. As a last resort, he could tie the ropes to the tree, thus preventing Satan from getting to him while he left the field. Henry was tired and worn out. He had lost the fight and he knew it. For Satan had more spirit, more viciousness than he had believed possible.

The horse reared and plunged again, and even though he could not see, he was fearful in all his fury. As he swept past Henry, the old man’s attention was drawn to the blindfold about Satan’s head. Was the rag actually slipping, or had he just imagined it? Then the horse stopped and half turned, and Henry’s breath
came sharp. The blinder
was
slipping, and in a few minutes Satan would be able to see!

Suddenly the horse bolted, and it was Henry who was caught off balance, for Satan had pulled away from him. The ropes tightened and Henry was thrown to the ground; then he was being pulled along the grass as Satan gathered speed.

Henry was about to let go of the ropes and make a run for it, when he remembered that the blinder would slip from Satan’s eyes any second. The old man’s skin was burned from his body as Satan’s speed increased, and he almost gave in to the agony and complete exhaustion that swept over him. Then suddenly Satan slowed down and stopped on the rim of the hollow. He shook his head savagely and Henry gritted his teeth, for he knew that Satan would rid himself of the blinder this time.

The old trainer cast a desperate glance at the tree, only a few yards away, and with a final effort he rose to his knees; then in a half crouch he stumbled to the tree and sank at its foot. Slowly, too slowly, he wound both ropes around the tree. As he finished tying them, he saw the blinder slip down from Satan’s eyes.

Henry didn’t try to get away. He was too exhausted to run or to care. He was done, beaten. Alec would find his horse tied to the tree, and Henry only prayed to God that he might learn a lesson from him.

As Satan shook off his blinder, he uttered a shriek and reared. When he came down, his flashing eyes turned in every direction, sweeping past the tree behind which Henry lay. Then, seemingly unmindful of
the ropes which dragged behind him, the horse trotted swiftly around the rim until he came to the sharp decline which led to the fence ten feet away. He stood there for a moment as though measuring the jump he would have to make to clear the fence. Then his ears pricked forward and he retracked, coming to a halt not far from the tree.

Henry forced his head up, and through blurred eyes he saw what the horse intended to do. And he knew that Satan was probably making the greatest mistake of his life in assuming that he was free of the ropes which hung so loosely from him. If the impetus of his jump over the fence broke the ropes, he would be free, but if they held and became taut with him in mid-air, he would hang himself.

For some reason, Henry found himself trying to stop Satan by attracting attention to himself; but his words were only a whisper as they traveled up his dry, tight throat and reached his swollen lips.

Satan was in a gallop, running like a black phantom toward the fence. Then he gathered himself and with a mighty leap flew through the air.

Henry’s narrowed eyes were upon the ropes which he had tied about the tree. He saw the slack taken up quickly, and then the ropes became taut. They held, and the tree swayed. Then the sound of a heavy body crashing down upon the underbrush on the other side of the fence broke the deathlike stillness of the early morning. A few seconds later it was quiet again.

And as Henry sank into unconsciousness, he whispered, “We’ve both lost, Satan.… Both of us.”

Alec moved restlessly in his sleep and pitched a little farther toward the edge of his bed. Sebastian, who lay beside him, uttered a low sigh and wiggled closer to the boy’s legs. Suddenly the dog cocked his head in the direction of the open window as a high-pitched cry reached him. Then the early morning was still again and the dog’s head fell forward upon his front paws once more.

Sebastian was half asleep when Alec rolled over on him. Whimpering, the dog jumped down from the bed and trotted over to the window. He stood looking out for a few minutes, with his front paws on the window sill.

Suddenly the wild cry came again.

Withdrawing his feet from the window sill, Sebastian uttered a sharp bark and ran over to the bed. He stuck his nose into Alec’s hand as it hung over the side.

Seconds later Alec opened his eyes. Rubbing the dog’s head, he smiled; then Alec saw the bedding half
on the floor, and his face sobered. He’d done a lot of dreaming during the night, and it hadn’t been good. Satan had given them trouble and his screams had …

Then it came again, and it was no dream this time. Alec waited until Satan’s piercing whistle had died on the morning air. Then he was out of bed and over by the window. For a moment he thought he saw his horse on the rim of the hollow. But the trees in his front yard partly blocked his vision, and he wasn’t sure.

He half stumbled and ran to the closet, his legs weak from the many days he’d spent in bed. Quickly he pulled on his sweatshirt, corduroy pants and sneakers; then he ran from the room, Sebastian trotting close behind him.

His pace slackened as he reached the stairs and quietly descended. When he got to the front door, he unlocked it and slid out onto the porch, his speed quickening again as he ran down the steps and across the yard.

It wasn’t until he had passed through the gate and was halfway up the driveway that he made himself slow down to a walk. After all, he reasoned, probably nothing was wrong, and it wouldn’t do him much good to over-exert himself after more than a week in bed. True, he had been due to get up today, but the doctor hadn’t said anything about running. It was just that his dreams and Satan’s scream on top of them had upset him for a few moments.

Alec looked out over the field as he approached the barn, but Satan was nowhere in sight. A little worried, Alec went into the barn, only to find the colt’s stall empty. When he came out again, his gaze traveled to
the hollow, for he knew it was the only place where Satan could be … unless he had jumped the fence.

Running again, Alec reached the barred wooden gate, climbed over it, and then sped across the field. He slowed down as he felt the dampness soak through his rubber sneakers. Sebastian streaked by him, and Alec came to a halt. He had forgotten about the dog; having him around wasn’t going to help matters.

Alec whistled to the flying dog ahead of him, but Sebastian kept going in the direction of the lone maple tree on the rim of the hollow. Angrily, Alec whistled again, but stopped short as he saw the prone figure at the foot of the tree.

Breaking into a sprint, Alec followed the dog. As they neared the tree, he knew that it was Henry who lay there, and his blood ran cold. What had happened? Where was Satan?

When he reached the old man, who lay face downward, Alec dropped to his knees beside him. Hastily, his glance took in the torn clothes and bleeding hands; then, slowly, afraid of what he might see, he turned Henry’s body slightly sideways. The old man’s face was white and ghastly, but at Alec’s touch his eyes opened.

“Henry! What’s the matter? What happened? Are you hurt badly?” Alec’s words came fast and his face was as white as Henry’s.

“I had to do it,” Henry mumbled. “Had to do it.”

“Had to do what, Henry?” Alec said. “What did you have to do? Where are you hurt?” He helped Henry to a sitting position with his back against the tree.

The old man’s burning gaze met Alec’s as he
muttered, “I ain’t hurt. He knocked me out … but I killed him. Alec, I
killed
Satan.”

Alec’s hands were upon the old man’s shoulders, his face suddenly distorted with fury. And then he saw the taut ropes about the tree, and his gaze followed them to the point where they disappeared over the fence. His eyes closed and he caught his lower lip between his teeth. When he turned toward Henry again, the anger in his eyes had been replaced by a dead, fixed stare. “He’s dead?” he asked incoherently. “Dead, Henry?”

The old man’s gaze dropped before the look in Alec’s eyes. “He jumped,” he said slowly, “… with a rope around his neck. I thought I was doin’ the right thing, Alec.… But I was wrong.… I couldn’t lick him.…”

Without another word, Alec rose to his feet and walked over to the ropes. He stood beside them for a few seconds, as though afraid to touch them. Then suddenly Sebastian’s sharp bark broke the stillness and Alec saw his dog standing by the fence.

Alec’s eyes became alive again, and with a cry he ran forward. What had possessed him to accept Henry’s word that Satan was dead? Why had he stood there doing nothing when, perhaps, his horse was still alive!

His strides shortened as he approached the fence. Then with a leap, his right foot hit the fence above Sebastian’s head and his hands found the top rail. For a second his wet sneakers slipped on the wood, then they held, and Alec pulled himself up. When he
reached the top, he straddled the fence, and his eyes followed the ropes as they went down sharply to the heavy underbrush below. Then he saw his horse, and the cry which he wanted to utter died in his throat.

Satan lay on his side half covered by the dense brush which grew there. Alec could not see his head and there was no movement of body or legs. As he dropped down from the fence, Alec saw the broken seedlings and brush that Satan must have landed upon after clearing the fence, and a slight spark of hope rose within him. For Satan had completed his jump before the ropes had become taut. The force of his jump had carried him forward until the slack had been taken up, and then he had gone down.

Alec ran forward, unmindful of the brush which tore at his arms and legs, or the thorns which imbedded his skin. He stopped short as he saw the taut ropes entwined about a small seedling, and then the slight slackening of the ropes as they led away from the seedling to Satan’s head.