Son of the Black Stallion

by Walter Farley

  The days Alec had spent around Satan had convinced him that the colt couldn’t be left alone, not even with Tony around. For the black-haired huckster disliked Satan because the colt, in turn, hated him and old Napoleon. “In fact,” Alec muttered, “Satan seems to hate everyone from the way he acts … even me.”

  He gazed once more at the fence on which he’d spent most of his time during the past week. Everything was ready for Satan to graze in the field now, and maybe that would help matters. Alec knew the colt disliked the lead rope to which he had been held while grazing. Several times during the week he had attempted to break away, and once had even tried to savage him as he had Napoleon that first night. But Alec could handle him now. It was the months to come, when Satan gained in weight and strength, that bothered Alec.

  And if Henry didn’t get back, couldn’t get back for two months, what was he to do? Alec had made an agreement with his father and would be held to it. Neither his father nor his mother would understand why he couldn’t leave the colt in Tony’s care. Nor did he want to tell them.

  His father had gone through with his end of the bargain, just as he’d said he would. The registration papers had been sent to the Jockey Club after Doctor Hancock had examined the colt and found him sound. Luckily, Satan had kept still under Alec’s firm hand that day, and the doctor, who was a good friend of his father, had been impressed. “You’ve got a good piece of horseflesh there, Alec,” he had said as they left the barn. “A mighty good piece.”

  It was well that it had turned out that way, Alec thought, for he was sure Hancock had mentioned the same thing to his dad.

  The application blanks for an owner’s license, which Alec had also picked up at the Jockey Club, had been filled out by his father and mailed. And the bill of sale had been notarized the following day. Yes, Alec admitted, his dad had gone through with it all in his punctual, methodical way. He’d even done a good job, obviously, of breaking the news to Alec’s mother, for although her face had borne a strained, gaunt look during the days immediately following the talk between Alec and his father, she had only cautioned Alec to be careful.

  Alec rose to his feet and Sebastian looked up, waiting. He had to keep his side of the agreement, too, Alec told himself, for he was more than grateful for everything his father had done. There was no backing out now, even if it meant Tony’s taking care of the colt until Henry arrived. But would Tony do it? Alec realized how terribly afraid Tony was of Satan.

  Knowing that the huckster would be returning soon from his rounds, Alec picked up his hammer and tool box and made his way from the hollow, Sebastian barking at his heels.

  He was still a good distance away from the barn when he saw Napoleon turn into the driveway. Tony was sitting on top of the wagon, holding the long reins. Alec whistled, and Napoleon raised his large gray head and whinnied.

  Tony had Napoleon unharnessed and was leading him toward the barn door when Alec reached them.

  “I’ma glad you are here, Aleec,” Tony said with great relief. “I no like to go in alone with heem there.”

  “He’s in his stall, Tony,” Alec reminded him.

  “Sì, I know,” Tony replied, shaking his head. “But he mak’a such a fuss. He no like Napoleon or Tony. We just walka by and he shows da teeth. An’ beeg ones he has, Aleec, for such a leetle fella. Heesa no good, Aleec.” Then as he saw Alec’s gaze fall, he added quickly in a more patronizing tone, “But he will be, Aleec. Heesa not used to Nappy and Tony yet, but soon everything will be what you call hunkey dokey.”

  Tony’s gaze followed Sebastian as the dog elusively ran between Napoleon’s legs. “Sì! Looka da Sebastian. Already he forget to be afraid.”

  “I’d like him to be a little more careful, though,” Alec said. “I have to tie him up whenever I take Satan out or he’d be under the colt’s legs again. Here, Seb,” he called, grabbing the puppy. “I’d better take care of you now.”

  Alec clipped the leash to the dog’s collar, and then tied him to a hook on the side of the barn.

  “You take da colt out now?” Tony asked, when Alec returned. And when the boy nodded, Tony said, “We go in first then, heh, Napoleon.”

  As they entered the barn, Satan raised his small head over the stall door, uttered a short, piercing whistle, then withdrew inside the stall and was still.

  Tony heaved a heavy sigh. “I’ma glad he no want to see us,” he said. “When he keepsa looking at me it makes me feela funny inside.”

  Alec didn’t reply. He watched Tony as the huckster carried Napoleon’s harness down to the tack room, his pace quickening as he passed Satan’s stall. As things stood now, Alec decided, he couldn’t see Tony taking care of the colt for even a few days, much less two months, if Henry didn’t get back. Somehow he’d have to figure out another way—even if it meant talking to his father again about the whole business.

  Returning from the tack room, Tony asked, “You heard from Henree?”

  “No, but he’ll be here any day now,” Alec said with a confidence he didn’t entirely feel.

  Tony had Napoleon halfway into his stall when he stopped, looked quizzically at Alec, and asked, “But if Henree no come before you leave tomorrow, what you do with the colt?”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Alec replied, “I really don’t know, Tony. I’ll have to figure out something.” Pausing, he added, “Henry should be here. It’s ten days since he left and he said he’d be back by now.”

  “Dio mio,” said Tony to himself, as he finished leading Napoleon into his stall. “It’sa best for all of us that he come.”

  As Tony emerged from the stall, Alec saw the afternoon paper in the pocket of his denim coveralls. “Mind if I look at your paper, Tony?” he asked.

  Tony removed the newspaper and handed it to Alec; then he trudged off toward the tack room again.

  Turning the pages quickly, Alec found the sports section. Jim Neville’s column was usually filled with authentic race track information, and he had been reading it eagerly for the past week, hoping to find something about Henry and Boldt.

  Buried in the middle of the column, Henry’s name leapt at Alec from the black type. Excitedly he read: “… Henry Dailey is back at the Mother Lode Ranch after a fast trip east. His boss, Peter Boldt, claims that the gray colt, Comet, out of The Lady and by his champion, Shooting Star, will be the fastest horse he’s ever owned. Boldt is priming him for the Hopeful, great two-year-old race, two years off.…”

  Alec skimmed through the rest of the column. There was no further mention of Henry or Boldt.

  Tony returned, and Alec handed him the paper.

  “You take heem out now?” the huckster asked, as Alec moved toward the colt’s stall. When Alec nodded, Tony pushed his way into Napoleon’s stall, shutting the door behind him.

  Satan saw Alec coming and his eyes blazed; then, snorting his contempt, he moved far back into his stall. Picking up the lead rope, Alec opened the door and walked inside, his face tense and a slight gleam of anger in his eyes. He was discouraged and tired of having Satan act this way after more than a week here. All of them—Tony, Napoleon, Henry, Sebastian, and of course he himself—were the colt’s friends. Couldn’t he understand that?

  Swerving, Satan kicked out his hind legs, coming dangerously close to Alec. Alec muttered and moved forward, keeping close to the side of the stall and avoiding the flying hoofs. He stopped and waited until the anger quelled inside of him. Satan was desert born, he reminded himself. Instinctively the colt was distrustful of every living creature, even those who meant him no harm. It would take time, perhaps a long time, Alec told himself, before the colt learned to trust them. And kindness on their part, more so than anger, would help bring it about sooner. He began talking in a soft tone, and then, when he saw his opportunity, closed in fast and had the colt by the halter. Lunging, Satan tried to bite him, but Alec pushed his head aside. “None of that, boy,” he said. “It’s bad manners.”

  As Alec led him from the stall, the colt attemp
ted to push him hard against the side, but Alec turned his shoulders against Satan’s light body, and the colt gave ground. “You’ll be needing a few more pounds before you can get away with that, Satan,” he said.

  They moved toward the barn door, and the colt’s head turned toward Napoleon, who was looking out over his stall door. Beside him and a few paces back stood Tony, his eyes fearful.

  Alec felt Satan’s body quiver with eagerness as the colt came to a standstill and gave way to the fury that possessed him. Throughout the barn rang his challenge, hard and shrill. When silence prevailed once more, he raised his small head still higher. He seemed to be listening intently for some response from Napoleon.

  “If you’re looking for a fight, don’t pick on him,” Alec said. “C’mon.”

  At first the colt resisted Alec, then with a disdainful snort he trotted alongside with high head and tail, his light hoofs slapping rhythmically against the wooden floor.

  Leading him into the field, Alec allowed the colt to pull away until he had reached the end of the lead rope. Satan continued to pull, but Alec held the rope firmly in his hands, eyes upon his horse. The lush green grass rose above Satan’s fetlocks as he stood there quietly, his ears pricked and nostrils quivering. Alec knew that his every faculty was keyed to the utmost, that the colt could and would do almost anything. And he wondered if it would be wise to give him his head, to let him run in the field, as his great sire had done. It was a sight that he longed to see, something to carry back to school with him. The wooden fence encircling the field was too high for the colt to jump over. Perhaps in a year he’d be able to make it, but not now. And the new fence at the south end, built just as high, would keep him out of the heavy underbrush on the far side of the hollow.

  Satan’s head jerked toward him; then the colt wheeled and slowly ran around Alec, who kept the rope taut. Suddenly Satan stopped, his head cocked again, his short mane swept back by the late afternoon breeze. His nostrils quivered, and his head moved back and forth before he stretched down to graze, his black muzzle buried in the long grass.

  Alec left him alone for a long time; eventually he moved quietly up to him and took hold of the halter. The colt’s head jerked upward and he turned savagely upon Alec, who kept close to him, avoiding the bared teeth.

  Alec’s fingers worked quickly as he unsnapped the lead rope from the colt’s halter. Then he placed his hand upon Satan’s silky neck. “Well, boy, you’re free,” he said. “Go to it.… It’s what you’ve wanted.”

  The colt moved slowly away from Alec, as though he thought himself still held by the lead rope. Then, upon suddenly realizing that he was free, he bolted with a rush. Down the field he ran, stretching into a gallop. And as Satan ran, Alec felt his heart swell with pride at the beauty of his colt in action. In time Satan would be beautiful, swift and strong, just like the Black. Alec was certain of that. The strides the colt took now were short and unsure, but before many months went by they would be long, steady and powerful.

  Alec drew in his breath sharply as Satan headed for the east fence without slackening speed. Would the colt try to jump, even if it meant destruction? Did he prefer death to the loss of his freedom?

  Then, relieved, Alec saw Satan come to a dead stop before the fence, and, wheeling, stand there shaking his head. Then he half-reared and was off again, more slowly this time, running alongside the fence with his head craned as though he were wondering what was on the other side.

  “No desert over there, boy,” Alec muttered. “You wouldn’t like it.”

  The colt disappeared from sight as he reached the far end of the field and went down into the hollow. Alec left him alone, knowing there was nothing to fear down there as long as the colt wasn’t able to get over the fence and into the heavy underbrush.

  A few minutes later Satan reappeared, trotting back along the west side of the field. Upon seeing Alec, he stopped halfway up and bolted across the field.

  Alec let the colt run until he had covered the field several times, his speed gradually lessening as he ran himself out.

  Maybe this was just what Satan needed, Alec thought. Maybe it would make things easier all around.

  The sun was hanging low in the west when Alec decided the colt had had enough exercise for one day. Satan was grazing in the middle of the field, and he raised his head as he saw Alec walk toward him. Then, wheeling, he trotted slowly toward the hollow.

  “Good a place as any,” Alec said, going after him.

  He walked quickly, half running at times, for while the colt had been grazing, Alec had been thinking; and he had decided that tonight he’d have to ask his father to let him stay at home a few more days, awaiting Henry. If his father didn’t consent, he’d have to ask Tony to feed the colt until Henry arrived. But Alec didn’t like to think about that.

  Satan ran into the hollow, and a few minutes later Alec reached the rim. Looking down, he saw the colt grazing. Satan raised his head, snorted and trotted alongside the fence.

  Slowly Alec moved down the hill, attempting to force Satan into the southwest corner of the fence. Alec was talking, moving forward, the colt’s wild eyes watching his every move. Alec was only a short distance away from Satan when the colt bolted.

  Alec was ready for him. But Satan didn’t go up the side of the hollow, as Alec had thought he would. Instead the colt charged straight down upon him, and only Alec’s agility, as he threw himself to one side, prevented him from being hurt as Satan swept by.

  White and shaken, Alec climbed to his feet. And as the colt disappeared over the top of the hollow, Alec made his way after him.

  Satan had traveled fast and was down at the north end of the field, near the barred wooden gate which led to the barn. He was standing there, looking through the cross bars. Sebastian, still tied, was barking furiously at the colt. Alec quickened his pace until he was running.

  The gate was a little lower than the fence, and Satan might possibly be able to jump over it. Alec didn’t want to think of what might happen to Sebastian if the colt did break out of the field.

  Satan was moving back and forth at the gate, his head held high, his eyes upon the barking dog.

  Alec was still a good distance away when the colt whirled, trotted back a few yards, and then turned again, facing the gate. Alec ran as hard as he could, for he knew Satan was going to attempt to jump the gate. He was about to yell to attract the colt’s attention when Satan moved forward slowly; unsure of himself, Satan was measuring the gate again. And as the colt came to a halt in front of it, his hoofs pawing the dirt, Alec moved quietly toward him.

  The wind was blowing from the north, and Alec realized thankfully that his scent was being carried away from the colt … and also that Satan’s intense hatred of Sebastian was occupying the colt’s complete attention at the moment.

  Satan was still standing before the gate, his flashing eyes defiantly focused on Sebastian, when Alec slipped up behind him, moved in close, and grabbed the halter, snapping on the lead rope at the same time.

  As he felt Alec’s hand upon his head, Satan reared, carrying Alec with him. Pulling him down, Alec slapped him lightly on the muzzle and began talking. “You’re my horse, Satan,” he said. “You’ll have to get to know me better.”

  Striking out, Satan attempted to pull away, but Alec’s hand was firm, and after several more efforts the colt quieted down. Opening the gate, Alec led him toward the barn.

  Sebastian barked incessantly as they neared the door, and there was a loud squeal of fury from the colt.

  “Stop it, Seb!” Alec yelled at the dog.

  The puppy’s barking ceased at the sound of Alec’s voice. Then, whimpering, the dog wagged his tail furiously and was still.

  “That’s it, Sebby boy,” Alec said, again turning his attention to the colt.

  A few minutes later he had Satan inside the barn and was walking him slowly to his stall. Tony had gone, but as they passed Napoleon the old gray horse raised his head. Satan turned toward him, but
Napoleon met his smoldering eyes with only a short neigh.

  A short time afterward Alec emerged from the barn and locked the door behind him. Unleashing Sebastian, he moved quickly down the driveway and through the iron gate, wondering what his father would say when he told him he’d like to stick around just a few more days until Henry arrived. A few more days … would Henry be back even by then?

  He was nearing the porch when he heard the telephone ring inside the house; then his mother’s voice reached him as she answered it.

  He had the porch door open when he heard his mother say, “Just a minute, he may be coming now. I’ll let you talk with him, Henry.”

  Henry!

  Alec was running when he entered the hall foyer. Excitedly he questioned his mother. “Where is he, Mom? He isn’t in California, is he?”

  Then as his mother handed him the telephone, he heard Henry’s voice. “Naw. Naw, Alec. I’m right here … at the airport. Just thought I’d call an’ tell you I’d arrived, an’ everything was okay.” Alec heard Henry’s deep chuckle as the old man added, “Even thought you might be worryin’ about me some.”

  “Me worrying? Not me, Henry. I knew you’d be here.”

  “Sure thing.” Henry paused. “I got your letter about your going back to school, Alec. I’m glad … best thing.”

  “I’d rather be sticking around, Henry.” Alec lowered his voice. “The colt … he’s still acting up. It’s going to be tougher than we thought.…”

  There was a long silence at the other end of the wire.

  “Henry … y’still there?”

  “Sure. Sure, Alec. Now don’t get all excited or het up about Satan … he’ll turn out okay,” Henry said reassuringly. Then, “You’re leavin’ tomorrow?”

  “Yes, Henry. Tomorrow morning … early.”

  “Then I’ll drop over for a few minutes tonight. After I’ve checked in with the missis,” he added.

  “Okay, Henry.”

  “Oh, Alec.”