Alec listened to the voices of the mesa. Some were familiar, some not. And there were cries he wondered if he heard at all. The land was playing tricks on his ears, as had happened to him before. Nevertheless, he was beginning to believe in many new things, things he had learned from this land and its people within a very short time.
Alec heard the murmur of voices coming from the decrepit shacks and the sound of meals being cooked and eaten. Lamps shone as small squares of light in the darkness. But Alec was aware of the squalor inside each shack, and he could not think of them as being warm and homey.
Like many others, who had read schoolbooks and stories, he had thought the lives of Indians were bright and colorful, as beautiful as the jewelry they made, as colorful as their paintings and ceremonies. Instead he had found them in poverty and sickness, living on scrubland, sweating all day to cultivate enough food to eat, and freezing at night in dilapidated shacks, clothed in rags and sleeping on dirt floors. Actually, from what he had seen they were not the chosen people at all, but among the most hopeless people on earth.
The cold wind raced across the mesa, carrying the Black’s sharp whistle and the sound of footsteps in the darkness. The hunters had returned and Alec went forward to meet them.
THE BLUE STAR
18
As Alec neared the Black’s corral, he heard whispers and the soft padding of human feet. Finally he could distinguish the faces of several men standing by the fence, looking at the Black who, strangely, stood still.
The tallest of the men strode toward Alec, his arms raised as if they were wings.
“Our world is doomed, but even the doom is one of splendor,” the Indian said, his voice carrying a sense of joy as well as proclamation. “This night is not the night of the white man’s world,” he continued, his gaze turning upward. “This is not the sky of his race. The god in this fire is huger than the white man can understand.”
The Indian’s long arms descended to grasp Alec by the shoulders. “You have come with Black Fire to lead us to the Fifth World as our old father has said. We are ready. You have only to guide us.”
Alec shook his head in dismay. “I can’t lead you anywhere,” he said. “I’m not what you think I am. I’m lost. I’ve been sick. I’m trying to find my way back home.”
“None are lost who follow Black Fire,” the Indian said. “It is he who will guide us to the Fifth World, for he has come from the foot of the sky. He is the horse of Father Sun and carries the sign of eternal life on his forehead.”
Taking a black eagle feather from his headband, the Indian kneeled down and quickly tied it to the near front leg of the stallion. “His body is like an eagle-plumed arrow,” he went on, looking wondrously at the horse. “His tail is a trailing black cloud. His ears are the crescent moon. He has the power to see both day and night, for the big stars that sparkle are his eyes. From his nostrils come bolts of lightning.”
The Indian turned from the Black to look at the night sky and proclaim, “He will lead us to the sacred pueblo, for the end of the world, as we know it, is upon us.”
Following the man’s gaze, Alec saw what looked like a small comet on the far horizon, a faint trail of blue gases streaming behind it.
The Indian then fixed his eyes on Alec and asked, “Do we leave this night?”
Alec’s voice trembled as he answered, “Not tonight … tomorrow, maybe tomorrow.” He hoped by then he would have thought of something to avoid returning to that underground world.
Later that night Alec lay on one of the sheepskin beds in Alph’s house trying to decide what, if anything, he could do. He had no solution and, finally exhausted, he allowed himself to fall asleep.
Alec had no idea how long he’d slept when he awoke and sat upright. He looked at the sleeping figures of Alph’s family and had a puzzled sense that something unusual was about to happen. There was a misty look about the shack; then, slowly, a soft white light began to glow in the room.
At first Alec thought the flame from the lamp had been left burning. But he saw that the lamp was out. He found that he could see each piece of furniture but in a strangely unreal way. He looked again at the lamp. It was definitely out and yet the room was now filled with a soft but luminous light.
An intense stillness prevailed until suddenly he became conscious of a faint, continuous sound, almost that of a soft voice speaking to him. He listened intently. With electrifying swiftness, old days he had tried to forget sped before his eyes, and old wounds, which had not healed, opened. Then he was looking into Pam’s face, and she looked back at him with such joy and sadness that he reached for her, terrified that she would fade away in the misty light. Yet he could not touch her. She stayed away from him, shaking her blonde head softly, sorrowfully. But he held on to the tenderness of her blue eyes, for he remembered that most of all.
He cried out to her through his tears as she left him. But her voice reached his ears even though he could see her no longer. He listened intently, her words distinct and frightening. Strangely, she warned him to leave, that he was in great danger there.
He sat up, dazed; then he rose to his feet, standing in the darkness of the room. He shook his head, not knowing if he had been dreaming or not. The others in the room slept soundly; he could hear their deep breathing. All was as he’d left it when he went to bed. He staggered to the window and looked out into the night.
Outside, the night was clear and starlit. The stars seemed to be shifting as he watched them, all looking very strange. They looked like darting points of light rather than stars. They could be small meteorites, he decided.
Alec made his way back to bed and lay down, knowing he did not want to sleep if he was going to dream again.
Suddenly the stillness of the night was broken by the screeching and jabbering of birds, followed almost immediately by the barking of village dogs. Alec got up and went to the window again. Outside, he saw the dogs whining and running about, acting scared.
Heavy clouds now moved across the sky and Alec decided that an oncoming storm was causing the animals’ strange behavior. He could hear the Black, too, moving restlessly about his corral. But that was natural after the freedom he had enjoyed for the last few days.
Alec returned once more to his bed. The dogs were still barking and above all else he could hear the rattle of the Black’s hoofs. He would wait a while; then, if the stallion’s restlessness continued, he would go to him.
To keep himself awake, Alec thought of the awe in which Alph’s clan looked upon the Black. He could understand it. Even though the Indians of America had known horses only since the seventeenth century, they had adopted horses into their ancient myths, tales and legendary lore. Their storytellers, medicine men and artists all gave the horse supernatural powers. Through the Indians’ fertile imagination, the horse became a holy steed, born of the gods. No wonder the Black was revered.
Despite the bedlam outside, Alec suddenly felt tired. He was inclined to doze off though he knew he should remain alert. His eyes closed and opened as he fell asleep and awakened in fits and starts.
Later, how long it had been he did not know, he found himself wide awake again. The noises outside, including the sound of the Black’s movements, had ceased completely. If anything, it might have been the dead silence that had awakened him. He sat up, his arms huddled about his knees, and listened.
He was consciously aware of some mystery, some physical nearness … something on the order of what had happened to him before when he thought he’d seen and heard Pam.
But all was as it should be in the room. He could make out the dim outlines of the sleeping figures around him. There was nothing at all to be concerned about.
Alec lay back on the floor. He turned over, trying in vain to fall asleep. The very air seemed to be uneasy. He found his head aching when he’d had no headache before. His blood ran hot and cold.
Alec got up and went to the window once more. He watched the silver crescent moon as it appeared and di
sappeared beneath a churning sea of clouds. In the distance he could see the mountains, some of the peaks cone-shaped and snow-covered, all very serene in the waves of moonlight. The wind came up, a blurred whining sound in his ears.
Suddenly Alec’s thoughts were shattered by a sharp tremor that caused him to lose his balance and fall to the floor! Pots and pans rattled in the room, and the walls rippled like the side of a tent in a high wind. Now Alec understood why the Black had been so restless. Animals were known to sense the coming of an earthquake!
The tremor lasted only a few seconds but seemed much longer. Then, as Alec got to his feet, it was followed by a rapid-fire series of five more tremors that threw him down again. He lay there until the tremors ceased. He heard Alph’s family running to the door, and he leaped up and followed them into the night.
The Indians were as shaken as Alec. He stood with them in a closely knit group, a terrible sensation of hopelessness and fear coming over him when he saw what had happened to the village.
The shacks were sagging like listing ships and from them men, women and children were still running, crying in alarm. They pulled their possessions behind them.
Alec fought to control his own panic as the earth once more trembled beneath him. He tried to hold his legs steady despite the shaking ground. He was aware that the villagers were gathering nearby, and when he looked at them, he felt a sense of wonder.
They were all standing motionless, their eyes skyward and arms outstretched.
Alec saw what held their gaze. It was the comet he had seen earlier, plunging through the sky like a gigantic rocket and trailing streaks of cold, blue fire.
But now the meteoroid seemed to be traveling toward the earth. The flaming mass grew larger, brighter, before Alec’s eyes. He told himself there was nothing to fear from it or anything else in the night sky, ever. Meteoroids burned themselves out when they reached the earth’s atmosphere. Earthquakes, too, were to be expected in this area. There had been hundreds of them, reported and unreported. Seldom was there any loss of life.
Alec tried to move away from the others to go to his horse, for above all things he wanted to be with the Black. But he seemed to have lost the power of movement. He felt faint, unsteady on his legs. He wondered what was happening to him. He turned his head to look skyward again.
The star of vivid blue was no longer a great spot of light in the heavens but had grown into an immense splash of flame across the night sky. As he watched, the light grew ever stronger until it was possible for Alec to see every detail in the faces of the people around him.
They actually believed the end of the world had come! Their faces held a wondrous look of preparation and acceptance. Their arms were outstretched toward the flaming meteoroid.
Steadily, the great star increased in size and brilliance, its blue light making the faces of the Indians look unreal. Now the meteoroid was so large that it seemed to fill the whole sky. Its light was a stupendous dome of blue fire.
With sick dread, Alec realized that the meteoroid was going to crash close by, and none of them had a chance of staying alive in the holocaust that must come!
EARTHFIRE!
19
Dropping to the ground, Alec cowered with the others, waiting for the meteoroid to strike the earth. Moments later there came an explosion the like of which he’d never imagined. The very sound of it set off agony and terror within him. His ears ached and rang from the impact. The land lifted and rocked beneath his body and every village shack toppled.
Finding himself still alive, Alec raised his head from where he had buried it against the ground. He was conscious of little but fear. The earth beneath him was tilting upward and outward. He dug his hands into the dirt, as if letting go meant falling into deep space.
Much later he looked up to find the sky clear except for a steady light that swung over the land in mighty arcs. It seemed more a river of flame than any remaining light from the meteoroid.
With awful clearness Alec saw explosive plumes of smoke and ash rising everywhere around, topped by mushroom clouds of steam. Acrid gases filled his nostrils, and in the distance he heard the clatter of a multitude of rockslides.
Alec could only guess that he was in the middle of a great earthquake, perhaps triggered by the meteoroid, with explosions caused by red-hot magma swelling up from the depths. It was his only rational explanation. But what about the river of flame that came and went in mighty swings above him? What had it to do with the upheaval of the earth?
Alec staggered to his feet, determined to reach his horse despite the still-heaving ground. His every step took enormous effort.
Is it truly the end of the world? he asked himself. Is it?
The rails of the corral were strewn everywhere, but Alec found the Black standing nearby, his ears turned to each explosion. Alec reached his horse and threw his arms about him. He found the stallion’s coat wet with sweat and mud, and his breathing coming heavily.
“You’re not alone, not anymore,” he told the Black. “Whatever happens, we’ll be together.”
The earth continued to shake with strong vibrations. The river of flame overhead grew duller and the night became more indistinct. The Black jumped, trying to break away. His horse’s fear, Alec knew, was as real as his own. The Black sought escape in frantic flight.
“Not now,” Alec told him. “There’s no place to run.”
Coming toward them were the Indians. Alec couldn’t believe they were the same people he had known only moments before. Their shoulders were stooped and their faces wrinkled with the years of a century. Only their eyes were the same—deep, dark coals shining with fervor as they called again and again to him and his horse, “Lead us, Black Fire! Lead us!”
Alec tried to answer, but his own fright made it difficult to breathe let alone speak. He could only look at them, wondering if he appeared as pitiful in their eyes as they did in his. And yet they still had hope of survival, for on their backs they carried all the belongings they had in the world—burlap bags filled with food, ragged clothes, seeds for planting—everything they needed to begin life in their new world.
Finally he was able to speak and his voice was hopeless and bitter. “We can’t lead you anywhere,” he said.
They had turned from him to look directly overhead. Alec’s gaze followed and he saw something luminous and ghostly in the night sky. A bluish flame flickered there, and for a moment Alec thought that the meteoroid had reappeared. He saw a glare of bright fire within the blue flame and then, suddenly, his nose was filled with the stench of burning.
The Black screamed and reared high in the air, trying to break away from Alec. He came down to stand still a moment, his nostrils flared wide from the burning odor.
Alec knew he had to control the Black’s panic as well as his own if they were to survive. He knew that death was close to all of them. Somehow he managed to get on the raging stallion’s back.
The light overhead became one of dazzling brilliance and the air hot beyond description. This had to be the end of all things, Alec thought, just as the Indians had said.
Screaming in fear, the Black bolted forward, and Alec cried out in defiance of the holocaust.
Then the great curtain of fire overhead grew paler. It slowly turned the land below to a deep copper color with a heavy purple tint that reminded Alec of a dreadful shade of blood, belonging to the last hour of the world.
The sky became dark, making it difficult to see the way ahead. Alec brought the Black to a halt, fighting the stallion, who wanted to run on. Above, the arc of dull flame was only a dim ghost of its former self, and the night became very still and cold.
Alec couldn’t believe the air could have changed so rapidly with the darkening sky. Where had the intense heat gone? The night had sunk into frigid black.
Then from somewhere behind him Alec heard muffled voices, followed by loud cries.
“Lead us!”
Alec looked back but could not see the Indians in the dark
. He held on to the Black, his thoughts chaotic as he tried to overcome his sense of desolation as well as guilt for leaving them behind.
He could be of no help to the Indians, he told himself. He could do nothing for them. Their fate was no different than his own. It was only a question of time for all of them.
A growing sense of numbness came over Alec. It was a feeling he did not understand but did not challenge. He couldn’t account for what he did, but moments later he found himself riding back toward the Indians.
Somehow, what he was doing seemed strangely right to him now. It was as if he were suspended in a dream, viewing everything quite calmly when he should have felt only fear in what he had to do … return to the sacred pueblo.
The Indians came running toward him, driving their sheep and village dogs before them. Turning the Black, Alec led them through the night and icy cold.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END?
20
As Alec led the Indians from the mesa, he found that there was no escape from the holocaust. Exposed as they were, with the ground heaving beneath them, he became swathed in terror. He clung to the Black’s neck, dazed and exhausted, knowing that when death came it would be at his horse’s side.
His eyes turned to the heavens again, and he hoped he had the will to live. The night curtain had opened and he saw stars. Then the starlight dimmed altogether and deep blackness fell once more upon the earth. A vast rain came and Alec clung more tightly to the Black’s neck in the drenching downpour. The rain was accompanied by a fierce gale and hundreds of lightning flashes, which seemed to sweep downward in a great shower of flame. Then they were gone and darkness fell once more over the land.
Terrified, Alec waited in the dark. He heard the cries of the Indians behind him but it was useless to try to see them. The blackness, and all that was happening to him, was brutal to his senses. And yet, as he sat on the Black, he took courage in the strength of the great stallion who carried him.
The Black Stallion Legend Page 10
