The Black Stallion (6 page)

The days passed quickly for Alec, as he spent most of his time in the hold with the Black. His leg healed and was soon as good as ever. The captain and Pat at first attempted to get him interested in the boat and the voyage, but at last they gave up. The friendship between
the boy and the stallion was something too much for them to understand.

The captain’s hand rose to his chin as he and Pat watched Alec inside the stall. “Y’know, Pat,” he said, “it’s almost uncanny the way those two get along—a wild beast like that, a killer, and yet gentle as a kitten when the boy’s around.”

Pat nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, “one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen. I wonder where it’ll take them?”

Five days later they steamed into Rio de Janeiro. The captain delegated Pat to go with Alec to the wireless office, where he could secure the money his family had sent him, and help arrange for his sailing to the United States.

As Alec walked with Pat through the South American city, he thought how close he was getting to home. He was on the last leg of his journey! They reached the office and went in. Pat spoke to the man at the desk in Portuguese. After a few minutes the man handed him a pen, and Alec signed his name. Then he was handed his money.

Next they went to the ticket office. There they found that the next boat for the United States would sail the following day. Alec had just enough money for himself and the Black, and he booked passage. He looked at Pat. “That doesn’t leave me anything for the captain and you fellows.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Alec,” Pat answered.

When they returned to the boat, Alec made his
way to the captain’s office. He found him behind his large desk working over some papers in front of him. He looked up, motioned the boy to sit down and continued writing. Finally he stopped and sat back in his chair.

“Well, son,” he said, “we’ve come to the parting of the ways, haven’t we?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Alec. “Pat and I got the money and everything all right.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and drew out some change. “But this is all I have left. You see, sir—well, Mother and Dad didn’t know about the Black, and what they sent was just enough to get us both back to New York.”

“And now you’re thinking about what you owe us, aren’t you?” the captain interrupted.

“Yes, sir,” replied Alec. “If it hadn’t been for you, we’d probably still be back on the island.”

The captain got up from his chair and walked over beside Alec. He placed an arm on his shoulder. “Don’t you worry about us, son. We don’t expect anything—and you and that horse gave us more excitement around here than we’ve had in years.” He smiled, and they walked toward the door. “You just see that you get the rest of the way home safely, and that’ll be fine!”

“Thanks, Captain,” Alec said as he went out onto the deck.

“And don’t let anyone steal that black devil from you either!”

“I won’t, sir, and thanks again,” replied Alec.

The next afternoon he walked the Black down the gangplank. He had a firm grip on the stallion’s halter, and kept talking soothingly to him. The ship that was
to take them home had arrived during the night and was now being loaded with cargo. Pat and some of the sailors gathered around him as he reached the dock.

One by one they said good-bye, until only Pat remained. “So long, Alec,” he said. “Take good care of yourself.”

“You bet,” answered Alec. “And remember, Pat, whenever you get to New York, you promised to look us up.”

“Sure, some day perhaps …” He paused. “What are you going to do with the Black when you get him home?”

“I don’t know, Pat; I haven’t given it much thought. I just hope Dad and Mother will let me keep him.”

Pat was looking at the stallion. “He’s built for speed. I’ll bet he could tear up a track.”

“You mean—race?” asked Alec.

“Perhaps. Eight years ago, before I went to sea, I trained some pretty good horses in Ireland. I’ve never seen any that looked more like a runner than this one!”

“You can bet your last penny on that,” Alec said. Memories flashed back of his breathtaking rides on the island. “Well, Pat, I have to go now, they’ve almost finished loading over there. Good-bye.” He held out his hand and the other grasped it.

“So long, Alec,” he replied, “and good luck!”

“So long, Pat.”

Alec led the Black to the other end of the dock. A group of horses were gathered in one corner waiting their turn to be loaded. Dockhands rushed back and forth. A mixture of cattle and fruit smells filled the air.

The Black reared, and the other horses shrilled in fright as they saw him. Alec took the stallion to a far corner. His ears were pitched forward, his eyes glared masterfully over the others.

“Reminds you of the old days, doesn’t it, fella?” said Alec. He smiled, wondered what his mother and dad would say when they saw the Black. He was glad now they had moved out from the city last year to Flushing, one of New York’s suburbs. He was sure he would be able to find a place near his home where he could keep the Black, providing his mother and dad would let him!

Suddenly the Black screamed loudly and Alec felt him tremble. An answering scream filled the air. The other horses shoved each other in confusion. Alec saw a chestnut stallion being led toward the dock. He was big, almost as big as the Black.

The men leading him stopped on the farther side of the dock. Alec was thankful that he wasn’t going to be loaded on the same boat with the Black. The black stallion pulled restlessly at his rope, his head high in the air, his eyes never leaving the chestnut.

The man holding him was having his troubles, too. The chestnut rose in the air. The Black screamed and pulled harder on the rope. The other horses began to neigh loudly. Alec tried to quiet the Black, but he could see that something wild and instinctive was rising within him. He remembered the stories that his uncle had told him about the tribes of wild horses—how one stallion alone was king!

“Whoa, Boy—take it easy,” he said. The stallion
was snorting, one leg pawed into the wood, his ears were flat back against his head. The chestnut’s whistle rose loud and clear. Alec saw him rise into the air. There were yells and shouts from the sailors. Then he saw the man holding the chestnut fall to the ground, and the stallion was loose!

The Black reared on his hind legs, and his scream was terrorizing. Alec knew now that he could not hold him. The rope was jerked from his hands.

The chestnut and the Black rushed toward each other, their thunderous hoofs shaking the boards. The distance between the two closed rapidly, and then they clashed! High in the air they rose on their hind legs, their forelegs, pawing, striking madly at each other. Teeth bared, they lunged at each other’s throats. The Black got a hold on the chestnut and savagely hung on. Furiously they kicked, their manes whipping in the air. The chestnut broke the Black’s hold, and for a minute they squared off; then they were lunging at each other again.

Alec couldn’t look—couldn’t look away. Sounds of hoofs striking bodies, and squeals of terror from the other horses mingled with the screams of the two savages who fought for supremacy. The Black shrieked—louder than Alec had ever heard him before. His strength and experience were slowly overpowering the chestnut. His striking hoofs swept the chestnut stallion off his feet, and he fell to the dock. The Black went high in the air and his hoofs came down on top of him. Alec closed his eyes. A moment later the Black’s scream again came to his ears.

He saw the Black standing over the chestnut, his eyes blazing, his body streaked with blood and with lather. What would he do next?

The Black’s head turned toward the group of horses gathered in the corner. Majestically he strode toward them. They neighed nervously, but none moved. Slowly the black stallion walked around them—his eyes piercing, triumphant.

Alec followed him. He heard voices yelling at him, “Keep away, boy, keep away till he calms down!” But he kept walking. The Black turned and saw him.

The stallion stopped still. Alec came closer. The huge black body was torn and bleeding, but his head was high, his mane flowing. Alec watched his eyes—he had learned much from the stallion’s eyes. He saw a little of the wildness leave them. His nostrils stopped trembling. Alec spoke to him softly.

A minute passed, then another. He picked up the rope, still attached to the Black’s halter. He drew up the slack and then pulled gently. The stallion’s head turned toward him. He hesitated a moment, and then turned back to the other horses. Alec waited patiently while the stallion surveyed his newly acquired band. Then he looked again at Alec. It seemed to Alec as if he was trying to make up his mind between them. He took a few more steps toward the horses—then he turned and walked quietly toward the boy.

Shouts of astonishment broke out among the sailors. Alec attempted to lead the stallion toward the gangplank. The Black stopped and turned his head once again toward the horses. For a minute he gazed at them. The ship’s whistle blew. Alec pulled a little
harder. “Come on, Black,” he said. Another minute passed, and then the stallion turned again.

The sailors fell away as they approached. When they reached the gangplank, Alec looked over his shoulder and saw a crowd gathering around the chestnut, who was slowly climbing to his feet. The man was running his hands over the horse’s legs. Then he walked him—the chestnut seemed to be all right. Alec was glad—for even though the chestnut had started the fight, it might have meant staying behind if the Black had hurt him seriously.

Up the plank they went—onto the ship. One sailor, more courageous than the rest, called to Alec, “Follow me, kid—down this way!” He led the way to a box stall, and then moved a safe distance away.

Alec led the Black into the stall, took off the halter, and spread the bedding around. He filled a pail full of water. The sailor brought him the antiseptic he’d asked for. He was young, not much older than Alec, and his face was filled with wonder. “I never in my life saw anything like that,” he said.

“Neither did I,” answered Alec. He felt the Black’s legs and sides. “It would be swell if you could get me some clean cloths,” he said. “I have to be careful of these cuts.”

“Sure thing!” the sailor answered. “We’re shoving off in a few minutes, but I’ll be back with ’em as soon as I can.”

Alec heard the ship’s whistle give three short blasts. The last horse came into the hold, shying nervously as he passed the Black’s stall. The stallion reached his great head out over the door, his ears pricked forward, and his eyes moving from stall to stall.

The boat trembled as the engines began to turn over. Alec bent down to wet the cloth in his hand. “It won’t be long now,” he thought. Carefully he cleaned a deep cut in the Black’s side where the chestnut had kicked him. He felt the stallion quiver as the antiseptic entered the wound. He was so big and powerful. Would he prove too much for Alec to handle? And what
would
his mother and father say when they saw him? He had thought of a place to keep him. Two blocks from their house in Flushing was an old run-down estate. The large, brown house was now being used to accommodate tourists. But in the rear was an old barn, badly in need of repair, and an acre of ground. It would be an ideal place to stable the Black. If only his parents would
let him keep the stallion, he would fix up the barn himself, and find work after school to pay for his feed.

Alec finished his work, and the Black turned his head. “Had a pretty tough day, haven’t you, fella?” The stallion shook his head, and shoved his nose against the boy’s chest, pushing him back against the wall. Alec laughed and picked up the pail and cloths.

He shut the door of the stall behind him. The stallion’s nostrils quivered; his eyes followed Alec as he backed slowly away. “Take it easy now, Boy,” he said. “I have to see what my own bunk looks like!”

The Black screamed as Alec began to climb the stairs. There was a loud crash as the stallion’s hoofs went through the side of the stall. Alec rushed back. “Easy, Boy,” he said. “Easy.” The Black shoved his nose toward him, and he placed his hand upon the tender skin.

Grooms from the other stalls came running toward them. “Everything all right?” one asked.

“Yes,” answered Alec. “He’s still excited.”

“He’s a mean one, he is! You’ll have to watch him!”

“He just doesn’t like to be left alone,” said Alec, “so I guess I’ll stick around.”

The grooms went back to their jobs. Alec looked at the stallion. “Black,” he said, “you’re something!” He went around to the side of the stall and pushed the broken board back into place. He looked around the hold, and noticed that the grooms had opened cots and were placing them beside the stalls. Alec found one and did the same. “Looks as though I’m going to bunk down here whether I like it or not,” he said.

Alec tossed on his cot that night, as the ship plowed through heavy, pitching seas. Every wave seemed destined to send him rolling off his bed. The horses were finding it difficult, too, and their poundings made the hold a bedlam. Alec could hear the Black pawing at the floor of his stall.

It was still rough the next morning, and continued to be rough throughout the day. The horses began to get sick and the grooms were kept busy. Only the Black remained well. He still held his head as high as ever, and moved gingerly about in his stall.

Night fell and the ocean became wilder. Bolts of lightning flashed in the sky and a gale whistled outside. Alec thought of the
Drake
and the storm that had sent it down to the bottom. He rose from his cot and went to the stall door. The Black was awake, and pushed his nose toward the boy.

“Not frightened, are you, fella?” A streak of lightning made the hold as bright as day, and there was a loud crack as it struck the water. The ship quivered. Alec’s fingers tightened on the Black’s mane. Again darkness, and the ship lurched forward. The engines throbbed and once more took up their steady chant.

The Black’s eyes were moving about restlessly. He shook his head and his foreleg pawed into the bedding of the stall. Alec couldn’t blame him for being frightened. He reached in his pocket for some sugar and held it out to the stallion. The Black moved away and pounded harder than ever.