The Black Stallion (7 page)

The ship staggered as a wave crashed against it. The grooms were rising from their cots, awakened by
the storm. The other horses were quiet—most of them too sick to cause any trouble. Alec was afraid the Black would get out of control. He opened the door and went inside. The stallion backed into a corner. Alec held out the sugar. “Easy, Boy,” he said. The Black’s head was high in the air. He stopped his pounding as Alec put a hand on his neck. He reached down for the sugar. “That’s a good fella!” said Alec. Slowly the Black quieted under his hand.

Hours passed and dawn broke in the sky. The wind lessened and a torrent of rain poured down. One of the grooms came over to the Black’s stall. “Isn’t he sick at all?” he asked.

“A little,” Alec answered, “but mostly he’s just nervous, though.”

The man looked at the Black admiringly. “He certainly must have an iron constitution to go through seas like this without being sick. He’s the only animal on board that isn’t!”

Later in the day Alec began to feel queasy in his stomach. Desperately he fought against it. At last he had to admit that he was seasick. “Guess you’re a better man than I am, Black,” he said.

The next few days Alec didn’t care whether he lived or died. Most of the grooms were sick, too, so they didn’t pay much attention to him. The ship’s first mate, who acted as doctor on the ship, came down, and tried to make him go to his cabin, but sick as he was, he realized that he couldn’t leave the Black.

Three mornings later, Alec weakly rose to his feet and walked up to the stallion. The ship had stopped
rolling. “Hello, Boy,” he said. “I see you’re as spry as ever!” The stallion’s ears pricked forward and he shook his head.

A groom came up. “How d’you feel, kid?” he asked.

“A little weak,” Alec said, “but otherwise okay.” He paused. “How much longer before we reach New York?”

“About two more days,” the groom answered, “unless we run into some more rough weather—but I think we’ve had our share of it.”

“I hope so,” Alec said—and he meant it.

Two days later the ship’s whistle blew for Quarantine, where the boat was to be inspected before passing into New York harbor. The Quarantine inspectors entered the hold and went from stall to stall, examining the horses. Alec noticed that each groom produced papers and showed them to the officer in charge. What would he do when they came to him? Perhaps it would be better if he went over now and explained why he didn’t have any. Alec started toward the officer. Suddenly the Black’s scream stopped him in his tracks. He turned and saw that one of the inspectors had crossed the hold and was opening the stallion’s door. “Watch out!” shouted Alec, but he was too late. The Black reared and struck out with his front feet, striking the man and sending him flying against the door.

Alec rushed to the stall and flung himself between the stallion and the inspector. Desperately he grabbed the halter. The Black’s frightened eyes never left the man on the floor. The inspector, spluttering angrily,
climbed to his feet. Alec felt relieved; if he was angry, he couldn’t be hurt very badly. His trouser was ripped where the Black had struck him, but there were no other signs of injury.

The other inspectors came running. “What’s the matter here?” asked the officer in charge.

“This horse attacked me, sir!” said the man. “He’s a dangerous animal.”

The officer walked closer to the door. “What have you to say about it?” he asked Alec, who was tightly holding the Black’s halter.

Alec looked at the tall, sharp-featured man, and wondered whether the officer could prevent the Black from entering the country. He felt sick at the thought. They just couldn’t do that. He met the officer’s eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened, sir, and I know he wouldn’t have done what he did if your inspector hadn’t entered the stall like that. You see, he isn’t used to people, sir. No one has ever been near him except me.”

The officer’s eyes traveled over the stallion. Then he walked toward the door and went inside. Alec took a firmer grip on the halter. “It’s all right, Black,” he said. “Whoa, Boy.” The stallion moved uneasily.

The officer walked slowly around him. “He’s quite a horse. Is he yours?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” answered Alec.

“Are your papers all in order?”

“I haven’t any, sir, but the captain told me it would be all right. We were in a shipwreck and—”

“Oh, you’re the one,” interrupted the officer. “We’ve received orders about you. You’re to go
through.” He smiled. “You’ve certainly had a tough enough trip as it is without our making it any tougher.” He turned to the inspector, who had his trouser rolled up and was washing his leg. “How’s the leg, Sandy?” he asked.

“It’s okay, I guess, sir—but that horse is the wildest one I’ve seen around here in fourteen years!” he answered.

“And I think the best, too!” The officer smiled. He turned to Alec. “You must have quite a story, son—shipwrecked, and turning up with an animal like this.”

“It is, sir. We were both on the
Drake
when it went down, and from what I’ve heard we’re the only survivors.” He paused. “It’s a pretty long story, sir.” He turned to the stallion. “How about it, fella?” The Black snorted.

With a clean bill of health, the ship left Quarantine and steamed through the Narrows into the harbor. Alec eagerly peered through the porthole beside the Black’s stall. His throat tightened as the skyline rose before him. Here he was back home again! How differently he had left it five months ago—it seemed more like five years!

Alec felt the Black’s heavy breathing on his arm. He turned and ran his hand across the tender nostrils. “Well, Black,” he said, “we’re home!”

He could see the two small tugs effortlessly pushing the big freighter. The buildings climbed higher and higher into the sky. A large liner, ocean-bound, passed them—its stacks belching white smoke into the heavens. Tankers and flatboats loaded with railroad cars crept past. In the distance Alec saw the Statue of Liberty.
His eyes filled with tears. What was the matter with him? He was too old to become emotional. But his throat tightened and he swallowed hard as they neared the symbol of freedom and home!

An electric ferry plowed through the water beside the ship, its decks crowded with people. The sun was sinking behind the buildings on the Jersey shore. The Black sniffed at Alec’s hand. He turned and smiled. “Only a few more minutes, Black,” he said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out two lumps of sugar and a radiogram. The stallion took the sugar from his hand. Alec opened the yellow piece of paper, and read it once again: “Will be at pier. Can hardly wait. Love. Mother and Dad.”

The steamer was now opposite Brooklyn, where it was to dock. The tugboats swung the ship around and headed toward the shore. The hold was filled with noise as the crew prepared to unload the ship. The Black became uneasy.

Then the boat slid up beside the dock. Alec heard the bumping of the boat against the dock. A few minutes later the hold doors were thrown open.

The crew began to unload the horses. Because of the Black’s reputation, they made him wait until all the others were off. Then one of the crew signaled to him. “Okay,” he said. Alec smiled as he saw him move quickly away out of the way.

Alec led the Black out of his stall, his hand tight on the lead rope. The stallion’s head rose high; he knew that something unusual was going to happen. Lightly he pranced toward the door. The pier was crowded with people. Dusk had fallen and the lights were on.
The Black snorted; he had never seen anything like this. He reared, but Alec brought him down. It was a cool fall night. A breeze blew in through the open door, whipping his mane. His large eyes moved nervously, and he uttered a short, sharp whistle. He shook his head and screamed louder.

Sudden silence fell upon the dock, and all eyes turned toward the Black as he stood in the doorway. Slowly Alec led him down the gangplank. He felt the stallion’s black body tremble as the city noises became louder now that the pier was quiet. Halfway down, the Black suddenly went high into the air. Alec brought him down. Three of the crew started up the gangplank to help. The Black saw them and rose again, his legs striking out in front. The men stopped in their tracks. The stallion had broken into a sweat.

Alec knew that he was losing control over him. He took a firmer grip on the rope, holding with two hands. A truck drove onto the pier, its two blazing headlights coming swiftly toward them. The Black screamed and rose once again. Alec was lifted from his feet, still gripping the rope. The stallion flung him to one side; he lost his hold, fell down to the gangplank. High above him he saw the pawing hooves. Cries from the spectators shattered the stillness.

The Black came down, his forelegs landing on each side of Alec’s head! He snorted, turned and disappeared inside the hold. Alec lay still, dazed for a moment. Then he felt hands helping him to his feet.

“Are you all right?” one of the men asked.

“Yes, I’m okay,” answered Alec. “Just a little shaken.”

“You should be after that! He’s a wild one!”

A policeman came running up, his gun in one hand. Fear for the Black crept into Alec’s heart. He looked at the officer.

“Don’t shoot him!” he said.

“I’m not going to,” answered the policeman, “unless he endangers any lives.”

Alec’s strength slowly returned.

“I’ll get him,” he said.

“I’ll go along with you,” said the officer. The other men backed down off the gangplank.

“Perhaps I can do this better alone, sir,” said Alec.

“Perhaps—but I’ll go along just in case—”

Alec entered the hold first. He saw the horse standing beside his stall. His frightened eyes turned toward the boy.

“What’s the matter, fella?” Alec said. “Is New York too much for you?” Cautiously he moved forward and placed his hand on the stallion’s neck. The Black moved nervously. “Sure, it’s new to you, but it really isn’t so bad after you get used to it.”

The stallion shoved his nose against Alec’s chest. Alec put his hand in his pocket, drew out some sugar and gave it to him. He waited while the wild look gradually left the Black’s eyes.

Then he took hold of the halter and led the Black toward the door. The policeman moved to one side. The stallion reared again when he again saw the lights and the crowd. Alec quickly turned him and went back to the stall.

The officer spoke up, “Take off your sweater, kid, and blindfold him.”

“Good idea.” Quickly he drew off his sweater. He led the stallion to a box, and stepped on it so as to reach his eyes. He folded the sweater and placed it across them, tying it in the back. The stallion jerked his head and tried to toss it off. He half-reared. Alec’s assuring hand and voice calmed him down.

Once again he led him toward the door. When they appeared in the doorway, the crowd shouted. Carefully Alec led the stallion down the plank. He saw the stallion’s ears prick forward and then go flat back against his head. His breathing became heavier. He shook his head and half-reared again. Alec glanced below; it seemed that thousands of upturned faces were watching them.

Halfway down, the Black again reared into the air. Once again Alec felt himself start to leave the gangplank. He let the rope slide through his hands. The stallion went high and then descended. Alec dodged the front hoofs. White-faced, he led the Black down. A few more feet and they were on the dock. The crowd shoved aside quickly to get out of the stallion’s path.

The Black made a beautiful sight. He moved lightly on his feet; he tossed his head trying to rid himself of the blindfold; his mane waved in the wind. Alec’s white sweater across his eyes made a sharp contrast against his coal-black body. “He’s getting used to the noises,” thought Alec, but he never relaxed his hold on the stallion.

Suddenly he heard his father’s voice. “Alec, Alec—here we are!” He turned, saw his mother and father standing on the edge of the crowd—Dad just as tall and thin as ever, Mother just as short and plump. Their
faces were as white as the sweater across the Black’s eyes. Alec moved toward them, then he remembered the stallion. He saw his mother grip his father’s arm. He stopped a short distance away from them.

“Hello, Mother and Dad!” was all he said, though his heart was full. He could see his mother had been crying. Grasping the end of the rope so as to keep hold of the Black, Alec ran up to her, threw his arms around both of them.

“It’s good to see you, Alec,” his father said after a few minutes.

“It’s good to be home,” answered Alec. His mother smiled.

The Black moved restlessly beside him. Alec looked at him, then at his parents. “He’s mine,” he said proudly.

“I was afraid of that,” said his father. His mother was too astonished to say anything. He saw his father’s eyes going over the stallion. He had done a lot of riding in his day and it was from him that Alec, even as a small child, had learned to love horses. He said nothing, but Alec could tell that he was admiring the Black.

“I’ll tell you the whole story later. I owe my life to him.”

His mother seemed to have regained control of herself. “But he’s so dangerous, son—he threw you down—” But she stopped, puzzled, as she met the calm, self-reliant look in the eyes of the boy who was holding the horse. This couldn’t be her son, the boy who had left her only five months ago!

“What are you going to do with him, now that you’ve got him?” asked his father.

“I don’t know, Dad, but I do know where I can keep him!” The words poured out of his mouth. He knew that he must convince his parents right now, once and for all, that the Black must be his—for keeps. “There’s that old barn in the old Halleran place up the street where the Daileys are living now. I’m sure they’d let me keep him there for almost nothing, and he’d have a whole acre of ground to graze in! I’ll work, Dad, after school, to make money to pay for his feed. Let me keep him, won’t you?”

“We’ll see, son,” said his father quietly. He smiled reassuringly at Alec’s mother. “We’ll take him home and see how it works out. Only remember, Alec, he’s your responsibility—yours to take care of and yours to feed. You’ve got a big job on your hands. I’ll see to it that he gets to Flushing, but from then on it’s up to you!”