The Black Stallion (12 page)

Days passed into weeks, weeks into months. And Alec’s life, from the moment his alarm awakened him at five o’clock every morning until he closed his books at night, became as regular as a time clock. Always in the morning before school, he would feed, groom and ride the Black around the field. If the weather was nice, he would leave him outside, knowing Henry would be around to watch him. He didn’t have time for games after school with the fellows any more. He had too many things to do. He would rush home at 12:30, as soon as his last class was over, eat lunch and then once again go to the stables where Henry was usually waiting for him.

Henry had received an answer from his friend in the Jockey Club, giving him the address of a Stud Book Registry Office in the Middle East. “It’s very doubtful whether they can help you, though,” he wrote, “as you have so little information to work on. However, I’m sure that they will do their best.”

Henry wrote to them. “Now all we can do is wait and hope,” he told Alec. “It will take a long time. That isn’t going to stop us from training the Black, though. I want to put a watch on that fella—even if we aren’t ever able to put him in a race!”

They hadn’t attempted to put saddle or bridle on the Black yet. Henry wanted to wait until spring. The weather became cold and the ground hard.

“Our real work begins in the spring,” Henry told Alec. “Now we’ll just take it easy!” Under Henry’s expert tutelage, Alec’s riding skill became greater and greater until Henry nodded with approval. “A grand combination,” he said to himself as he watched the boy ride high on the stallion’s withers as he galloped down the field.

After the workouts, Alec would usually spend the rest of the afternoon doing the odd jobs around home which his father gave him. “Have to earn your allowance,” his father said.

He had found plenty of things for him to do, too. Alec never had known there was so much to be done around a house—and his father hadn’t missed up on a thing. The front and back porch gleamed with new paint. The garage doors now opened easily and stayed open. The cellar shone with cleanliness. And Alec never knew so many leaves could fall from trees. One day he would rake up and burn hundreds of them; the next day the yard would be covered again. Then with the coming of cold weather, there was work to be done in the house. Luckily enough, even though it was now January, snow hadn’t fallen and the walks didn’t have to be shoveled.

There was still no news about the Black’s parentage.

“I’m afraid it’s no use, Henry,” Alec told him.

“Don’t give up yet, son,” Henry replied, but Alec could tell that he, too, had very little hope.

One afternoon, Alec walked toward the barn. The sky was overcast and the air cold. “Have to take it easy with him today,” he thought. He pulled open the barn door. Henry sat in his favorite chair, tipped perilously back on two legs against the wall. He was looking at the Black, who was moving restlessly in his stall.

Henry turned as the boy closed the door. “Hello, Alec,” he said.

“Hello, Henry. What’s the matter with the Black?”

“He’s all right,” replied Henry. “Kept him in all morning, though, and he’s pretty fidgety. The ground’s pretty hard, and I didn’t want him out there by himself. He’ll feel better after you’ve given him a few turns around the field. Do your best to hold him down.”

The stallion snorted and reached his head out toward Alec. Alec went over and placed a hand on his nose. “Hello, fella,” he said. “Want to get some air, don’t you?” The stallion shook his head.

“How’s everything at school?” Henry asked.

“Managing all right, Henry. Made up most of my work, and things seem to be working out better than ever before. Guess it must be the regular hours,” and he laughed.

“Yep,” said Henry. “Keep it up, Alec, and we’ll show your folks that you can raise a champion race horse and get good marks at the same time!”

Alec looked out the window. “Henry,” he exclaimed, “look, it’s snowing!”

The front legs of Henry’s chair came down with a bang. He went to the window beside Alec. “Sure enough it is,” he said. They watched the snow fall heavier and heavier. “Well, it’s about time, anyway. Never seen it hang off so long before,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Alec glumly, “and I can just see myself shoveling tons of it off the walk!”

A regular blizzard started raging outside. “Sure is coming down,” said Henry.

The Black was watching the snow, too. His eyes were wide with wonder, his ears pitched forward. “Henry,” said Alec, “look at the Black. This is the first time he’s seen snow!”

“That’s right!” exclaimed Henry. “They don’t have any where he comes from!”

“Wonder how he’s going to react to it?”

“Shouldn’t bother him any,” answered Henry. The Black pawed the bedding of his stall.

“Seems pretty nervous,” Alec said.

“Yep, but that’s because he hasn’t been out,” replied Henry thoughtfully.

For the next half hour, Henry and Alec watched the falling snow. “Seems to be stopping now,” said Alec.

A few minutes later the sun broke out of the clouds. “Certainly is beautiful out there now,” said Henry as he and Alec watched the sun’s rays glisten on the white snow.

The boy turned toward the Black. “Do you think we dare take him out, Henry?” he asked.

Henry looked at the stallion, who was still pacing his stall. “He sure needs the air, Alec. It’s hard to keep a horse of his nature penned up, even for a day. Do you think you could manage him?”

Alec smiled. “I’m not afraid of anything with the Black, Henry—you know that,” he answered.

Henry grinned. “Okay, let’s get him out!” he said as he walked toward the stall.

As soon as Henry opened the stall door, the Black pushed his way out. Alec grabbed hold of his halter. “Whoa, Boy,” he said.

Henry moved toward the barn door. “Better lead him around awhile until he gets used to it,” he said as he pulled back on the door. The Black shied and Alec took a firmer grip on the halter. Cautiously he led the stallion out of the barn.

The air was cold and still. The Black’s hoofs sank into the snow. He moved gingerly around the boy, never letting his feet remain more than a fraction of a second in the same spot. The snow flew in all directions. Slowly Alec led the Black around the yard in front of the barn. The stallion kept shaking his head, and his breath shot from his nostrils, sending two streams of thick vapor into the air.

Alec attached the lead rope to the halter, giving him more room to run around. The stallion made a circle around him. Suddenly he stopped. Cautiously he lowered himself to the ground and then rolled over on his back. His legs waved above him.

“Look at him!” Alec shouted to Henry. “He loves it!”

After a few minutes, the Black climbed to his feet.
Alec took him by the halter. “How’d you like it, fella?” he asked. The stallion shook his head. Alec laughed and brushed the snow off his back. “Okay to get on him now, Henry?” he asked.

“Sure,” answered Henry. He walked over beside the Black and boosted Alec onto the stallion.

“Remember, take it as easy as you can,” cautioned Henry, as Alec guided the Black into the field. He went at a fast walk, his legs sinking deeper and deeper into the snow.

Alec reached down and patted the Black’s neck. “How do you like this, fella?” he asked again. The Black swerved a little and broke into a slow trot. Alec let him go and then drew him up into a walk again. “Take it easy, Boy,” he said.

Now Alec let the Black go where he wanted to. He knew the stallion was enjoying the snow. He headed down into the hollow at the lower end of the field. The snow was a little deeper there. The stallion stepped high and once he rose a little on his hind legs. Alec guided him out of the hollow. The Black broke into a canter and Alec let him go, but kept a firm hand on him. The cold wind blew in his face and the snow went flying. When they reached the end of the field, he pulled the stallion up.

After an hour of riding, he saw Henry wave him in. He turned the Black toward the barn. “He liked the snow,” he said when he came up to Henry.

“Sure looked that way,” Henry said, grinning. “Wasn’t as bad as I thought he’d be!”

Alec dismounted. “He’s acting more like a gentleman every day,” he said.

“Yep,” said Henry, “and when spring rolls around he should be all ready for us to go to work on him.”

“Spring,” repeated Alec. “It isn’t far away, Henry—just a few short months.”

The man and boy looked at each other—both thinking the same thing. Henry’s gaze shifted to the Black. “Maybe around the first of April, if all goes well,” he said.

Alec’s feet scraped beneath his desk. He fidgeted with the pencil in his hand. The paper in front of him was blank. He couldn’t think about geometry at a time like this. His eyes again went to the clock on the side of the wall—12:15. Another fifteen minutes and he’d be on his way! His gaze shifted to the huge calendar hanging over the blackboard—April first! He had waited so long for that date, and now it was here. Today, after months of preparation, they were to break the Black to bridle and saddle, start the real training of the Black, even though no word had yet reached them from the Middle East concerning the stallion’s pedigree. Henry had written two more letters in the last few months.

Alec saw the teacher looking at him, so his gaze dropped to the paper in front of him. The minutes crept by as slowly as all the months of waiting. He couldn’t stand this much longer—he’d just have to go!

Suddenly the bell rang, and like a sprinter off on his marks, Alec leaped for the door. He had it opened
and was out in the corridor before the rest of the class had started to move. He ran down the hall, heard an authoritative voice tell him to stop, but kept running. Nor did he stop when he reached the street. He ran until he was too tired to go farther, then slowed down to a fast walk.

He rushed into the house and threw his books on the couch. His mother had lunch ready. He sat down to eat, but he was too excited. He looked up at his mother. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m not hungry today,” he said. His mother looked at him. She saw the high flush of excitement on his face.

“Something important going on?” she asked.

“Kinda, Mom,” Alec answered as he finished a glass of milk. “I won’t be home until dinner. I’ll make up for my lunch then!” He ran out of the house. His mother stood in the doorway and watched him as he tore down the street.

Alec found Henry nervously pacing up and down in front of the barn. “Hello, Henry!” he called.

“Hello, son,” Henry replied, taking the pipe from his mouth. “Nice warm day for it.” He looked up at the sun high overhead.

Alec saw the stallion out in the field. “How does he feel today?”

“He’s been pretty frisky all morning. Guess the warm weather is making him feel pretty good, too,” answered Henry.

They watched the Black for a few minutes. Then Henry said, “Well, son, we might as well get started. Feel okay?”

“Sure. What’s the difference riding the Black with a saddle or without one?”

Henry knocked the ashes from his pipe. “All depends on the horse, but let’s get going. I picked up an old saddle in New York yesterday. It isn’t so good, but it’ll do the trick until we get him on a track and can use mine.” Henry walked toward the barn.

Alec whistled. The Black raised his head and came trotting up to him. “Hello, fella.” Alec put his hand on the stallion’s neck.

The Black shoved his nose into Alec’s side pocket. Alec playfully shoved him away and pulled a couple of lumps of sugar out of his pocket.

“Want some sugar, heh, Boy?”

The stallion swept his long, pink tongue over Alec’s hand and the sugar disappeared.

Henry came toward them carrying the bridle and saddle. “Let’s get over in the middle of the field where you’ll have plenty of room.”

“Okay,” answered Alec. The Black trotted beside Alec. When they came to the center, Henry placed the bridle and saddle on the ground. “We’ll try the saddle first,” he said. “No telling what’s going to happen.”

Alec stood at the Black’s head, a firm grip on the halter. Henry took the saddle in his arms and went around to the left side of the stallion. Alec saw the Black’s eyes turn toward Henry. He sensed something was up and moved uneasily. Alec stroked him and spoke in his ear.

Henry said, “Hold him now, son.”

Alec gripped the halter tighter. Henry raised the
saddle over the Black’s back and gently placed it on the stallion. He never got the chance to grasp the cinch. The stallion’s hindquarters rose in the air and the saddle went flying. He turned nervously in a circle, and Alec had his hands full trying to hang on to him. Henry picked up the saddle and once again approached the Black. “This isn’t going to be easy,” he said, between clenched teeth. “Hold him again, Alec!”

Once again Henry placed the saddle on the stallion and once again it went flying in the air. “Doesn’t give me a chance to tighten the cinch,” he said as he picked it up.

Fifteen minutes passed and they still hadn’t succeeded in getting the saddle on the Black. Henry and Alec were both tired. Yet the stallion wasn’t as excited as Alec had expected him to be. “He’s just being contrary,” he told Henry.

The Black wouldn’t leave the saddle on his back long enough for Henry to get the girth straps through the buckles. “If I could only some way get ’em through and tighten that saddle on him!” he said.

Alec thought a minute. “It’s the cinch that bothers him. Let’s lengthen it all the way on my side, then I’ll hold the saddle just above his back while you get the ends of the straps through the buckles. Once I drop the saddle, you tighten. You’ll have to work fast.…”

“Might work,” said Henry.

The Black moved nervously around. “Whoa, Boy,” Alec said. He lowered the saddle as close to the stallion’s back as possible, so Henry could get the straps into the buckles.

“All set, Henry?” Alec asked.

“Just a second,” came the answer.

The Black was looking toward the far end of the field. Henry said in a low voice, “Okay, now.”

Quickly Alec placed the saddle on the Black’s back. The stallion reared. Alec jumped to one side. Henry was dangerously close to the Black, his hands feverishly pulling the straps through the buckles. Alec saw him give a final tug, then he flung himself out of the way of the Black’s pawing hoofs. “Got it,” he shouted. “Get out of his way!”