Black Stallion and Satan (11 page)

“No, it’s not home,” Alec said. “We’re a long way from there.” His hand moved down the long neck as he talked. He gave the Black another piece of carrot, making him reach for it. The Black moved forward again until his hindlegs came to the ramp; he stopped once more and Alec waited. Finally Alec moved farther down the ramp, holding out another carrot for the stallion. The Black reached for it, and as Alec moved away, the stallion let himself go, his hindquarters firmly gathered beneath him as he followed the boy down.

When the Black reached the ground, Alec gave him the carrot, then waited again while the stallion
turned to the left, then to the right, looking at everything there was to see.

Henry came up, carrying a pail of water. The Black turned to him, his lips quivering; then he pushed his muzzle into the pail.

Alec said, “I’ll walk him up and down the row a bit, Henry. It’ll get him loosened up and used to the place at the same time.”

Nodding, Henry watched Alec lead the stallion down the row toward the road. He saw the Black shy away from a power motor that a workman had left running near one of the stalls. But Alec moved with him, then brought him to a stop. A minute later he was leading the stallion to the mower, letting him sniff it to find out it was nothing to fear or fight.

Henry went into the van to get the two folded cots they were to use as their beds; then he removed the blankets from the trunk and hung them over a line to air.

Alec was bringing the stallion up the row when Henry turned to them again. The Black saw the blankets waving in the breeze and came to a stop, snorting. His eyes never left the blankets as he pawed the earth with his forefoot.

“Only a couple of blankets,” Alec said softly. He waited a few minutes, then moved the Black toward them. The stallion snorted repeatedly and his lips curled, but he moved quickly beside Alec. Stopping just before the blankets, Alec let the stallion go to them. The Black sniffed them and then after a few minutes turned away.

“Everything is strange to him now,” Alec told Henry. “But he’ll get used to it.” He paused. “I’ll walk him to the track now and let him take a good look at it.”

Henry joined Alec as the boy led the stallion up the long row. When they reached the end, they were near the far turn of the track, and the homestretch going past the grandstand stretched before them.

“It’s a nice, clean racing plant,” Henry said. “The track looks mighty good.”

“Shall we walk around it, Henry?”

“If you want. It’s a good idea to know what we’ll be running over.”

“Shall we take him with us?”

Henry turned to the stallion, standing quietly beside Alec. “I guess it’ll be all right.”

“The sooner he gets used to it the better,” Alec said.

They left the row and went to the gate leading onto the track. “Keep a good hold of him now,” Henry said as they walked through the gate. “Let’s get over near the rail.”

With his neck highly arched, the Black stepped lightly beside Alec, sometimes moving a few strides ahead of him and pulling a little. His head and eyes were in constant motion, turning to the empty stands on his right and to the green grass of the infield on his left.

“He’d like to go a little,” Alec said as they went along.

“This walk oughta take some of it out of him,”
Henry replied, his eyes on the track. “Can you keep him down?”

“Sure. But he’d still like to go.”

They moved slowly about the great oval, Henry’s eyes leaving the track footing only to look at the Black.

“He wasn’t any trouble at all,” Alec said when they arrived back at the gate. “It’s just as though he knows what this is all about.”

“He seems all right now, Alec,” Henry agreed. “But it’s still too early to tell much.”

“Would it be all right if I got up on him?” Alec asked eagerly.

“Y’mean now … without a bridle or saddle?”

“It doesn’t make any difference to him.”

“Or to you?” Henry asked.

“No bit can hold him when he wants to run. I can do as well without one.”

Henry was silent for a while, then he said, “Go ahead, Alec, if you think it’ll do him any good. You know him better than I do. But keep him to a slow gallop, if you can.”

Alec moved to the side of the Black, raising his knee for Henry to boost him onto the stallion’s back. A quick heave by Henry and he was up, and the Black displayed no uneasiness.

His knees pressed firmly against the stallion, Alec leaned forward to unsnap the lead shank from the halter. “I won’t need this,” he told Henry, tossing it to him.

The trainer stepped back as the Black crabstepped, then went into a trot. Going to the outside rail, Henry leaned upon it, his eyes never once leaving Alec and
the Black. He saw the boy’s hands slip a little farther down the stallion’s neck as he leaned forward. Obediently the Black moved closer to the inside rail and went into his long, loping canter as they passed the stands. Henry knew that the stallion was obeying Alec’s every command; just now the boy had full control over him.

The stallion swept around the first turn, his strides gradually lengthening, his head carried high with ears pricked. But there was no wildness to his gait, no evidence of the fiery energy that Henry knew burned within him.

“Maybe Alec will be able to do it,” he said. “Maybe he will.”

They moved into the backstretch with Alec lost from Henry’s sight, for the boy was low beside the Black’s neck and covered by the long, flowing mane. The stallion’s strides were long and effortless, yet every once in a while, for no apparent reason Henry could see, he would strike out playfully without breaking stride. His head would turn very often, too, to look to the left, then to the right, of him.

“They could be out for a joy ride,” Henry muttered. “Yet he’s really moving, and without even tryin’.” His hand went to the stopwatch within his pocket. “If Alec has that much control over him when the others get here, there’ll never be a race to equal it.”

They came around the far turn, and as they passed Henry, Alec waved to him. The stallion went down the stretch with his tail flowing behind him like a black cloak. Going into the first turn again, Henry saw the Black start to level out, and he knew Alec was letting him go.

There was no turning of head or striking of forefoot as the Black came off the turn. He was really moving now and his action was beautiful and breathtaking to see. Henry pressed the stem of his stopwatch when the Black passed the three-quarter pole. He pushed it again when the stallion swept by the quarter pole, then looked at his watch.

“Forty-five seconds flat for the half-mile!” he said aloud.

With thunderous, racing hoofs, the Black passed Henry once more, and this time Alec didn’t wave to him. Henry saw that Alec was trying to bring the stallion to a stop.

When they went into the first turn the Black’s strides were slowing, and by the time they had entered the backstretch again Alec had him down to a slow gallop, then to a trot.

Henry looked at his watch to make sure of the time in which he had caught the Black. He knew that Satan couldn’t run a faster half-mile than the Black had just gone. He turned back to the stallion as Alec brought him slowly around the turn.

He’s got the old speed all right, Henry thought. But I knew that. The question is, will he run or fight? And no one is going to answer that until the others get here. No one … not even Alec.

As the remainder of the week passed and Henry watched Alec take the Black through his daily gallops, he found himself thinking more and more about the possibility of the Black’s actually running in the big race. Alec’s control of the great stallion was impressive to watch, and the boy’s enthusiasm and confidence were transmitted to Henry. It was only when the trainer was alone that he angrily reminded himself it was much too early for optimism … that the Black’s willingness to do what Alec asked of him meant nothing until the Black caught the wind of other stallions. So it was that Henry looked forward anxiously … yet with a feeling of dread, too … to the day the others would arrive.

It came a day earlier than Henry had expected. He and Alec were driving back from town, where they had gone for their evening meal, when they saw the van ahead of them.

“Could it be Satan, Henry?” Alec asked anxiously.

“No. He’s coming in tomorrow morning. Has to be one of the others. El Dorado is my guess.”

“The South American horse?”

Nodding, Henry followed the van through the barn entrance gate and pulled up beside it when it came to a stop before the barn office. “Who y’got?” he asked the van driver.

“El Dorado,” the man replied.

Henry drove on. “Well, it’s the beginning,” he told Alec. “Things will change pretty fast around here from now on.”

“You mean because we won’t have the place to ourselves any longer?”

“Yeah, mostly that,” Henry mumbled.

They were back at the stall only a short time when the van turned down the row, coming to a stop just below them and on the opposite side. Suddenly the Black’s shrill whistle shattered the air, and Alec and Henry turned to him.

He had his head stretched far over the door. His ears were pricked, almost touching at the tips, while his eyes were large and had a startled look. He whistled again and his forefoot struck heavily against the door.

“Shall I close the top of the door, Henry?”

“No, there’s no sense in shutting him up. We’ve got to see what he’ll do from now on. We’ve got to be sure, if we’re going to race him.”

Two men were taking El Dorado off the van. He was a light golden chestnut of medium height. He walked quietly alongside his handlers and his movements were frictionless.

“Supple as a cat, that one,” Henry said. “And a lot of power to go along with it.”

“But his racing records don’t come anywhere near those of Satan,” Alec said.

“No,” Henry admitted, “nor of the others, either. We’ll have to keep an eye on him … but no need to worry too much about him. It’ll be Phar Fly and the European horses that’ll give us the most trouble.”

El Dorado stopped in his tracks when the Black whistled again. Snorting, he turned his golden head in the direction of the Black. He snorted again, then moved about uneasily; his handler led him down the row while the other man got his stall ready.

Alec went to the Black, but the stallion had eyes only for the chestnut. Alec stayed with his horse while Henry went to join the man walking El Dorado.

Repeatedly the Black struck his door. Alec offered him a carrot, but the stallion ignored it. Turning to El Dorado, Alec saw that the chestnut was becoming excited by the Black’s frequent challenging whistles; the man at his head kept him far down the row while Henry walked beside him.

A short while later El Dorado was led into his stall and Henry returned. “They’re a little worried about their horse,” he told Alec.

“You mean because of the Black?”

“No, not that. He wasn’t feeling well a couple of days ago and ran a pretty high fever.”

“But he’s all right now, isn’t he? He looks it, anyway.”

“Yeah, they think so. No fever, and he’s eating well. But they’re going to keep a close watch on him.”

With the coming of night the Black continued to remain at the door, watching for a glimpse of El Dorado and repeating his shrill, piercing blasts.

“I thought he’d get over seeing him by now,” Alec said while he and Henry sat on the bench outside the stall.

“Sometimes they never get over it,” Henry answered quietly.

“But the Black will. I’m sure he will.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Henry said, “Maybe, Alec. An’ maybe not. But we’ll know before long.”

“Is Lenny Sansone coming with Satan?” Alec asked, intentionally changing the subject.

“Yeah, I thought it best if he worked him right along, Alec. I figured the Black wouldn’t like to see you up on Satan even during the works.”

“I guess you’re right, Henry.”

Long after they had gone to bed, Alec heard the Black’s pounding against the door and the constant shifting of his feet as he moved uneasily about his stall.

Tomorrow there would be even more to occupy the stallion’s mind, Alec knew. For tomorrow Satan would arrive. And after him would come Phar Fly, Cavaliere, Sea King, Avenger and Kashmir. Yes, as Henry had said, things were going to change pretty fast around there from now on.

The next morning Henry took the van to meet the plane bringing Satan while Alec stayed behind to take care of the Black. He was grooming the stallion when one of the men who handled El Dorado appeared at the stall door.

“I wonder if you could loan us one of your pails?” the man asked. “El Dorado banged up ours yesterday.”

“Sure,” Alec said, leaving the stall.

The man followed him. “We’re getting a couple more, so I’ll return this to you by afternoon,” he said when Alec gave him the pail. “That’s some looking horse you have there,” he added. “Heard a lot about him. Is he everything they say he is?”

“I think so,” Alec said.

The Black had his head over the stall door and once more screamed at El Dorado, even though the chestnut wasn’t in sight.

“Is he like that always?” the man asked.

“No,” Alec replied.

“Give you any trouble?”

“No.”

After the man had gone Alec finished grooming the Black, then turned to the adjacent stall, where the cots were. He was about to remove them to get the stall ready for Satan when he stopped to look thoughtfully at the Black. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a good idea to put Satan next to the Black. And there was no reason why they couldn’t use Stall 8 for Satan; then their sleeping quarters would be between the two horses. It might be better that way until they saw how things worked out between Satan and the Black. Alec felt certain that Henry could fix things up at the office for the use of the extra stall.

He went to Stall 8 and bedded it down well for Satan; then, having some free time, he went across the row to get his first close look at El Dorado.

The man who had borrowed the pail was grooming
the chestnut. He looked up when Alec appeared at the stall door.