Son of the Black Stallion (18 page)

His horse lay there, suffering, but
alive!
His head was pulled backward at a grotesque angle by the ropes about his head and neck. The one about his neck was partly slack, permitting him to breathe with great effort.

As Alec ran forward, he saw white foam specked with blood wheeze from Satan’s mouth as he heaved heavily. And he knew that he hadn’t arrived a moment too soon. In another few minutes Satan would have strangled to death.

Satan turned glazed eyes upon him when Alec pulled frantically at the noose about his neck. Finally,
his fingers fumbling, he loosened it; then he struggled with the second rope about Satan’s head until he had it off.

The horse lay still for a moment, his breath coming short and fast.

“It’s over, Satan,” Alec said soothingly. “Easy, boy. Easy.” His hand moved slowly down the long black neck, and even more slowly over the wet, heaving body, his fingers feeling, probing.… So far as he could tell, there were no broken bones.

After a long time, Satan’s breathing became more normal. Finally he snorted and shook his head, but he still didn’t attempt to get up.

Alec removed the loosened noose from about Satan’s neck and threw it to one side; then his eyes traveled over the deep burns the ropes had made. He desperately hoped that these alone were the extent of Satan’s injuries, and that his back and legs were all right.

Satan turned toward him, and for a moment his eyes were wild and furious again. It was what Alec longed to see … for he knew now that his horse was not beaten. His spirit was unbroken.

The boy sat beside the colt for a long time, talking to him and wiping the hardened sweat from his lathered body. And only when Alec’s hands approached the burns upon his neck and nose did Satan tremble at his touch.

“I want to help, boy,” Alec said softly. “That’s all I want to do.”

Finally, Satan made an effort to get to his feet. Alec
watched him eagerly, hopefully. If only his colt got up, walked!

Pain intermingled with fright and doubt shone brightly in the black colt’s eyes as his body lurched forward, then backward. He came to a stop with his unsteady forefeet up, his hindquarters still upon the ground.

“You can do it, Satan.” Alec’s voice was heavy, pleading. “You’ve got to do it.”

For another moment Satan remained in the same position, his head hanging heavily. Then he seemed to gather himself. His head rose. He drew up his hindquarters, and with a sudden lurch was on his feet.

Alec flung his arms around the colt’s neck, and his words were lost in the black mane.

The boy and his horse stood there for a long while, with only the chirping of the birds breaking the early morning stillness. Finally Alec stepped away from the colt. “I’ll take care of you, Satan,” he said slowly, “… and soon you’ll be well again. All well.”

Satan’s body ceased trembling beneath Alec’s hand. The colt turned toward him once, his eyes bright with anger again. But as Alec continued talking to him, the fire gradually died, and his head dropped low.

Alec turned him around in the dense brush, his eyes following Satan’s every move. His horse moved without limping, and Alec’s hopes soared. Satan was all right! He knew it! He could feel it! It wasn’t the end. It wasn’t at all! And after a few minutes, when he walked him slowly away, he thought that maybe it could be just the beginning!

They went down the path leading around the fence and to the barn, with Alec stopping very often along the way just to touch his horse, to thrill at stroking him without having Satan recoil at his touch as he had done in the past. And Alec found thorns imbedded in Satan’s body. When he removed them, his horse flinched, but his eyes were soft and wondering.

“We’ll get better together … you and I, Satan,” Alec told him. “And soon we’ll start all over again.”

When they neared the barn, the boy’s white face was tinged with color, and his colt’s head no longer hung so low.

The next two weeks sped by, and as each day passed Alec locked it away forever in his heart. Doctor Hancock, the veterinary, had found Satan sound, with care necessary only for the rope burns. And slowly, but ever so surely, Alec watched the gradual change take place in Satan’s disposition toward him. At first, when Satan was regaining his strength, the colt moved about uneasily, his eyes blazing and suspicious again when Alec entered his stall. But when the boy carefully patted the ointment upon Satan’s burns, lessening his pain, the colt stood still beneath Alec’s touch.

Fascinated, Alec spent the days and, at first, many long hours of the night with his horse, caring for him and watching the savageness and wildness slowly leave his deep-set eyes, to be replaced with a look of recognition and trust.

Henry, his face still gaunt and his body weak from sheer exhaustion after his fight with Satan, watched, but left them alone. He knew that Satan feared and hated
him. Every day the horse attempted to kick or bite him, and his sharp, piercing cry would ring through the barn at Henry’s approach to his stall. It would always be a fight between the two.

Together, Alec and Satan recovered, and it was as though their respective injuries brought them still closer together. When more than two weeks had passed, Satan whistled at sight of Alec. His deep-set eyes were no longer fixed and stony, but alive and wonderful with a new sense of faith and confidence in the boy.

Each day Henry thrilled at the sight of this new Satan. Alec’s gradual dominance of the giant horse fascinated the old trainer more than anything he’d ever seen. And Alec, furious with him at first for attempting to break Satan his way, had forgotten his anger in the display of affection by Satan.

“This might never have come about,” Henry had reminded Alec that first week, “if it hadn’t been for the fight.”

“It would have come, Henry,” Alec had returned. “Maybe it came sooner because of it … but it would have come anyway. I’m sure of it.”

Three weeks later, Alec rode Satan for the first time.

Henry arrived at the barn early one morning, and as he passed Satan’s stall, the colt snorted and withdrew his head. Henry walked to the door and Satan moved to the back of the stall, his blazing eyes upon the trainer. Henry’s face sobered. He hadn’t wanted it this way. But it had to be and he knew Satan would always hate him, yet fear him, too.

Henry stood there a few minutes talking to the horse, but the terrible blazing look never left Satan’s eyes. Then Henry noticed the glistening black coat, and knew that Alec had been there before him, currying, combing and rubbing his horse. The straw had been changed, too, and fresh water was in Satan’s trough. Henry wondered about it, for it was early, even for Alec.

There was the sound of footsteps on the graveled driveway, and a few seconds later Alec came through the doorway. Taking one look at Alec’s eager face and hurried steps, Henry knew that this was the day. Alec was going to ride Satan this morning.

The horse whistled and his ears pitched forward when he saw Alec. He moved toward the door of his stall and stopped, his eyes turning toward Henry.

Alec said, “I’m taking him out, Henry.”

“Yeah, I sort of thought you were going to.” Henry nodded his head at Satan. “I see you got him ready.”

Satan moved to the door as Alec walked over to him, and the boy stroked his head.

Henry stood there in silence, watching them. Satan was a different horse now, and Henry knew he’d never get over the awe of seeing the wildness and savageness disappear from Satan at Alec’s touch. There was no love burning in the horse’s eyes, but complete trust and confidence were there, and it was all that was necessary for Alec to ride him.

Finally Henry asked, “You’re feeling okay?”

“I’m all better, Henry. There’s nothing wrong with me now.”

“Your folks know?” Henry asked.

Alec shook his head. “No,” he said, “I didn’t tell them, but they never said I shouldn’t ride him.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Henry said, “Guess they knew you were going to, anyway.”

“This won’t be like the last time. You know that as well as I do, Henry. He’ll let me ride him now. I’ve been on his back several times in the stall.”

Henry said quietly, “You won’t have any trouble, Alec. I know it, too.”

It was easy putting the light saddle upon Satan, and Henry drew up the cinch only enough to keep the saddle from sliding. Satan moved uneasily about his stall with Henry there, and Alec had a difficult time quieting him down.

As Henry moved forward with the bridle, Satan lunged at him.

“Better let me put it on, Henry,” Alec said, holding Satan’s head. “He’s probably remembering that rope you had on him.”

Alec took the bridle and, talking to his horse, got it on him. Satan champed at the bit but remained still under Alec’s hand.

They were outside a few minutes later, with Henry walking slightly behind Alec and Satan. The boy’s face was alive with eagerness when he stopped Satan just inside the field and turned to Henry. “Give me a boost,” he said quickly.

Alec, with a word to his horse, picked up the reins, moved to Satan’s side, and then quickly placed his knee in Henry’s clasped palms. Then he was in the saddle fast, his knees pressed close to his horse.

Satan bolted, but Alec was ready for him. Leaning
close to Satan’s neck, he talked to his horse again while drawing him up. After going about twenty-five yards, Satan came to a halt and stood shaking his head, while Alec stroked him.

Slowly, Alec felt Satan quiet down. The giant body underneath him still trembled slightly, but Alec knew he’d have no trouble with Satan today.

Henry left the field and stood beside the fence. He watched as Alec slowly moved Satan in large figure eights, teaching him to be guided by the reins. The old man grinned, for he’d thought Alec would be so eager to ride his horse around the field that he’d forgo the fundamentals of breaking Satan to his bridle. But the boy was doing everything he’d been told to do.

Henry watched Alec guide Satan through the figure eights for a long time, the horse crabstepping nervously and pulling at the bit, his eagerness to run checked only by the boy’s uncanny control over him. It was a sight that made Henry’s heart pound with pride. It was ample reward for all the hopelessness, despair and physical agony he had been caused by this horse, whom he had thought untamable and a killer.

Suddenly Satan broke out of his walk into a slow gallop, and Henry realized that Alec had given him his head.

Alec moved forward with the smooth natural gait of his horse. This was the beginning of Satan’s long and rigorous training as a race horse! Drawing back on the reins slightly, Alec held Satan to a slow gallop. The horse fought for his head, but Alec talked to him. “Take it easy, boy,” he said. “That’ll come later. Move nicely now. Move nicely.”

And as they swept down the field, Satan’s hoofs beating rhythmically upon the ground, Alec thrilled at the power he felt between his knees. He had felt such giant muscles before, but only astride the Black. And he wondered if this big, burly son of the Black would have the tremendous speed of his sleek sire.

As if in answer to Alec’s thoughts, Satan’s action shifted quickly and he broke from the slow gallop into swift and thunderous strides. For a few seconds Alec let him go, and Satan’s mane whipped back, lashing his face. The white fence became a blur; then they neared the hollow, and Alec sought to check Satan’s speed. At first there was no response to his sharp pull on the reins; but as Alec called to his horse, he gradually slowed down to an easy gallop. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Alec turned him back up the field. It had been a short run, but Satan had speed to burn. There was no doubt about that.

Henry, his face thoughtful, watched them come back up the field. Satan’s action had been beautiful to see, and it looked as though he had speed in spite of his burly size. He had slowed up, too, at Alec’s command, which was mighty important with a wild runner like him. “Yet it’s too early to tell,” Henry warned. “There’s too much ahead of us.”

“You said it, Henry.”

The old trainer turned quickly to find Mr. Ramsay standing beside him, frowning.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Ramsay. Didn’t hear you come up. What was that you said?”

“I simply agreed with you, Henry,” Mr. Ramsay said quietly. “There is very much ahead of us.”

“Yeah,” Henry muttered.

“And I meant just that, Henry … us.” Mr. Ramsay’s eyes were upon Alec and Satan as he spoke. “It’s my son and my horse,” he continued. “I’m very much in it.… It can’t be any other way now.”

“Yeah, I guess you are,” Henry said slowly, his eyes, too, turning back to the field.

They stood there in silence until Alec had slowed Satan down to a walk and was approaching the gate.

“Guess he’s coming in now,” Henry said. “We’d better get out of the way and let Alec handle him.”

“And he sure can, Henry.”

The old trainer turned at the note of pride in Mr. Ramsay’s voice. And when he looked at him he saw that the frown had left his face, and that his eyes were bright and keen. Smiling, Henry muttered, “You said it this time, Mr. Ramsay.”

It was serious business, this training of Satan, and Henry watched Satan with keen eyes during the weeks that followed. Luckily he had no set rules for the training of race horses, for Henry had learned long ago that horses, like athletes, respond differently to any given training method. It was up to him, he knew, to size up Satan now that Alec was riding him … to learn what kind of training the giant black colt needed to bring him along to his finest racing peak.

So, at the beginning, the old trainer talked little to Alec, and when he gave his instructions before the boy took Satan into the field for his daily schooling, his sentences were terse and to the point. Alec would do as he was told, for he, too, knew that this early training was important if they were to race Satan.

Day after day Alec rode his horse about the field, holding him to a slow jog despite Satan’s impatience to break loose and run. The boy knew that Henry’s eyes were always upon them, watching their every
movement, watching him as well as the horse. And at the end of long miles of jogging, he would bring Satan in at Henry’s signal, and the old man would look closely to see if the colt was hot or blowing excessively. Then he would send them out again, to have Alec repeatedly walk his horse slowly up to the fence and, just as slowly, back him away from it.