Black Stallion and Satan (18 page)

Swerving, the Black went after him, but Alec pulled him toward Cavaliere, who was trying to break away from the group. The Black screamed and turned upon the brown stallion. Alec felt the fury within the great black body, yet he would have done nothing to quell it had he been able to do so. For it was only the Black’s hatred for the other stallions and their fear of him that would make it possible to drive them back toward the gate.

The racers broke their tight group when they felt the increasing heat of the fire. They bolted away from the fence and Alec turned the stallion after them. Avenger broke farthest away and Alec headed him off, turning him up the field.

The Black swerved sharply in his desire to reach Avenger, and Alec lost his balance; his hands grabbed frantically at the long mane, holding on to it while he regained his seat. He knew that he never would have caught the Black again had he fallen off.

The racers were running along the fence once more, and Alec kept the Black a little behind and outside the group. The air was becoming too hot to breathe. His throat was tight; he couldn’t swallow. The roar of the fire became so great that even the thunderous
hoofs racing across the ground could not be heard.

The Black screamed. It was not a scream of haughty defiance and challenge now, but of terror and fright.

They were very close to the gate when Alec saw the burning grass before it … a short line of fire that had been ignited by the flying sparks. They would have to cross it to reach the lane!

The racers swerved away to the left, but Alec drove the Black into them. Screaming, the Black forgot his terror of the fire with the impact of heavy bodies. For a few seconds there was an onslaught of thrashing hoofs and raking teeth as the frantic stallions fought one another to get away.

Alec continued pulling the Black’s head, directing his attention from one stallion to another. Suddenly Alec saw Sea King’s gray body bolt from the group and with a quick jump clear the line of fire. Avenger followed Sea King, and, goading the Black, Alec drove the stallion back against the others. Phar Fly saw Avenger go through the open gate and with a sudden burst of speed he, too, jumped the fire. Cavaliere and Kashmir were next to follow, leaving Satan alone to meet the Black’s furious attacks.

Satan rose high on his hindlegs and the Black went up to meet him. Alec felt the terrible impact of heavy bodies as they met. He was losing his seat when the stallions came down. The Black was moving forward again to renew the fight when suddenly Satan whirled and, leaping over the burning grass, went through the open gate.

Screaming in fury, the Black followed him.

The cry of hope which Alec uttered as soon as the Black followed Satan down the lane came to an abrupt end. For ahead he saw that the tops of the trees were already aflame! The lane below was still clear, but it would be only a matter of seconds before it, too, became an inferno.

Satan was running with giant strides in his effort to overtake the other racers more than a hundred yards ahead. All were running wild, their hate and fear of the Black gone with the flames that swept above them.

The ground all about Alec was being engulfed by lashing, leaping flames. And their roar was so great that the boy heard nothing … only silence. It was unreal. It was a dream … a nightmare. Even the horses ahead were but ghostly apparitions, phantoms floating through the dim, murky veil of heat.

Yet beneath him worked the tremendous muscles of the Black as the stallion reached out with great strides and extended head. So he knew this had to be real … this race with fire.

Snorting, the Black stretched out, but he did not gain any ground on Satan. Alec did not goad him to greater speed, knowing full well that the giant stallion had not reached his limit and would rise to it when it suited him.

They were racing the fire … not Satan or Phar Fly, Sea King, Avenger, Cavaliere or Kashmir. That the Black should keep ahead of the flames was all that mattered. Fate had decided that this was the time and the place for the great race.… Yet Fate had willed, too, that their swiftest opponent would be an added
starter … this wind-driven, all-engulfing fire. And upon the speed of the horses depended their very lives!

Suddenly a deafening roar exploded directly overhead. Flaming tongues and spires dropped all about them. The stallion leaped forward in terror and Alec glanced back to see the white, seething flames swallowing the lane directly behind them and coming forward with inconceivable swiftness.

Terrified, the Black was reaching his utmost speed. No longer was he running Satan down to kill him; hate and menace for the others were gone, leaving only frenzied fear of the flames which sought to devour his straining body.

Racing the wind that drove the fire upon them, the Black followed closely behind Satan as the burly colt bore down upon the others. Together they were out-racing wind and fire and overhauling the fastest racers in the world!

But suddenly the lane swept sharply to the left, almost doubling back, retreating into the path of the fire! Alec heard the agonized screams of the horses in front as the heat and flames burst upon them. The air was filled with flaming pine cones and branches, searing and burning as they struck glistening bodies.

The Black screamed and his strides slowed before the inferno ahead. But there was no turning back and he followed Satan.

Paralyzed with fear, Alec watched the racers ahead. For as long as they kept going the lane was still clear. If they stopped it meant the end for all.

Abruptly the lane turned again and Alec shouted hysterically when he saw the horses move away from
the path of the fire. The Black followed Satan around the turn and ahead the lane was clear once more except for the canopy of leaping flames above. To their left Alec saw the dirt road, running parallel with the lane but inaccessible because of the trees. He knew the valley couldn’t be more than a half-mile away now!

The Black screamed again as a burning pine cone struck his rump, and he surged forward at greater speed. A few strides ahead, Satan had caught Cavaliere and was passing him. The Black drew alongside and for a second the brown stallion kept up with him, then fell behind.

Satan was bunched with Kashmir, Sea King and Phar Fly, with Avenger running a length ahead, his small body leveled out, almost touching the ground.

Alec looked behind to see the flames bright behind Cavaliere; then he turned ahead again.

The Black drew closer and closer to the small group, and just as he moved upon them Satan pulled ahead, moving on toward Avenger. Straining bodies rose and fell beside Alec as the Black moved past them, following Satan.

Suddenly the Black uttered a terrifying blast and Alec felt the stallion gather himself. His giant strides came faster. He passed Avenger, then moved up on the burly colt.

It was then that Satan screamed, too, and for a moment Alec thought the colt was going to turn upon the Black. But instead he leveled out still more, keeping ahead of the stallion. Stride for stride they thundered, straining for every bit of speed within their great bodies.

Then Alec, too, let out a cry, for ahead he saw the break in the forest and the rolling, open fields of the valley! They had beaten the fire, outraced the wind! He turned back once more to the racers. They would make it … all of them! Cavaliere was closest to the flames, but the fire wouldn’t catch him. They had only a hundred yards to go!

A hundred yards
.

Alec turned to the open fields ahead, then to Satan’s heaving body beside him. Neck for neck, the Black and his colt were racing. Bending low, Alec pressed his head close to the Black.

Both horses screamed again as their nostrils caught the clear air of the valley. Satan’s ears were back and flat against his head as he pushed his nose in front of the Black. But then, in one mighty surge, the stallion began moving ahead. Inch by inch he moved past Satan until the colt’s extended head fell back to the stallion’s hindquarters. And the Black was more than a length in front of Satan when they broke from the forest and hurtled down the slope to the safety of the valley floor.

Henry’s gnarled hands were clasped firmly about the wheel as he kept the van close behind Mr. Ramsay’s car. He sat heavily in his seat with his round bull head slouched down between hunched shoulders. During the six hours they had been on the road he had talked little to Alec, yet very frequently he had looked at him, carefully studying the boy’s face before turning back to the road. Alec’s eyebrows and lashes had been singed close and his hair cropped even shorter by the fire; his face showed several red blotches where sparks had struck. But only his hands had required attention and they had been bandaged by the doctor.

If the boy was conscious of Henry’s continued scrutiny, he did not disclose it. Most of the time he had his head out the van window, always answering Tony’s waving hand from the car ahead and turning to the rear to watch the van carrying Satan.

“Just a few more miles now,” Alec said excitedly
when they turned off the main highway, following Mr. Ramsay’s car up a steep hill.

“Yep,” Henry said, shifting into low gear. Once more he turned to look at the boy, and this time he said, “You’re sure you don’t want to tell me any more about the fire, Alec?”

Shifting uneasily in his seat, the boy asked, “What more is there to tell, Henry? I found the lane and thank God it led to the valley. Satan and the Black are with us.… We’re going home.”

Henry glanced into the rear-view mirror before saying quietly, “Sure, I know, Alec. And that’s all that matters. But …” He paused, undecided, then continued, “Well, it’s just that I caught a glimpse of you during the fire. That was when you neared the road. We were up ahead an’ I couldn’t see much before the forest closed in on you again. All that mattered then was that you and the horses were out in front of the fire. It’s still all that matters,” he corrected himself hastily. “But while we’ve been driving I got to thinkin’ that maybe the International Cup race took place after all.” Henry paused. “I guess you’re the only one who could answer that,” he concluded without taking his eyes from the road.

Alec was silent while behind him the Black struck the side of the van and Napoleon whinnied.

“ ’Course you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Henry said slowly.

Turning to the small window in the back of the cab, Alec reached through to put a bandaged hand on the stallion’s muzzle. “What do you want to know, Henry?” he asked.

His friend turned to him, and Alec saw the tiny pinpoints of light in Henry’s gray eyes.

“Satan was behind the others when I saw you. Did he catch any of them, Alec?”

“He did, Henry.”

“Then you think he could’ve beaten them in a race. Is that right, Alec?”

“He did beat them, Henry,” Alec returned quietly.

“Y’mean he made up the whole distance?” Alec nodded.

“I knew he could do it,” the trainer said proudly. “I just knew he could! But then his face sobered and thoughtfully he turned to the rear-view mirror to glance at the van carrying Satan.

Watching him, Alec knew what Henry was thinking.
Had the Black gone up with Satan? Had the Black possibly beaten him?
The boy understood Henry’s glory and pride in the burly colt he had grown to love. And now the fear of defeat was very evident in the old trainer’s face.

It was a long while before Henry asked hesitantly, “Was the Black able to catch ’em, too?” His face was tight-lipped, intense.

“Yes, he did,” Alec returned slowly.

After a long pause, Henry said, “It was a lot to ask of him, carrying your weight.” The trainer turned again to the rear-view mirror and his heavy jowls worked convulsively as he added huskily, “Too much of a handicap to expect him to catch Satan as well.” He turned to the boy. “Not a colt like Satan.”

Alec raised his eyes quickly to meet Henry’s gaze. Without hesitation he said, “No, Henry … you couldn’t expect that of him.”

Henry’s heavy jowls relaxed; his tight lips parted in a smile. “We’ve got the finest horses in the world, Alec,” he said almost in awe. “They don’t come any greater than those two. We know that now.”

They followed Mr. Ramsay’s car to the summit of the hill, with Henry talking excitedly of their plans for the future and the colts to come. But for a moment Alec sat back in his seat, content in the knowledge that he alone knew of the Black’s superior speed. No, you couldn’t expect the Black with such a handicap to catch Satan.
But he had!

From the top of the hill they could see the valley below, set like a gem amidst the rolling, open countryside. But then they started down, and the evergreens curtained the valley from their sight.

Reaching the bottom of the hill, they followed the road across cleared fields. A wide stream cut the valley and they crossed it by going through the wooden shed of a covered bridge. On the other side they turned right, following the stream.

“We’ve got to get some mares,” Henry said abruptly. “They’re as important as having a great stallion like the Black. A sire is only half, remember that.”

“We won’t buy any until we’re sure we have the right ones, Henry,” Alec said.

“An’ all our colts aren’t going to be Satans, y’know,” Henry continued. “We’ll have hard times in this business, Alec. It’s not goin’ to be easy.”

“I know that, Henry,” the boy returned. “But it’s what we both want, isn’t it?”

“It’s that, all right,” Henry said.

They came to a white board fence running parallel
with the road and turning to sweep far across the fields. Henry smiled, and Alec said to the Black, “You’re home, boy!”

When Alec had settled back once more in his seat, Henry asked, “I wonder if you’d do me a favor?”

“Sure, Henry. You know I will.”

“I had a letter from an old friend a while back … his name is Jimmy Creech.” Henry paused. “Jimmy’s been racing horses for over forty years. He’s a grand guy, Alec.”

“Is he a trainer?”

“Well, that and more, Alec. Y’see, he races harness horses.… He won the Hambletonian once. Jimmy wasn’t content to be just a trainer like me.… He wanted more than that; he wanted to take an active part in the race. So he went into harness racing forty years ago, like I said, an’ he’s still at it.” Henry smiled. “A state or county fair wouldn’t be anything without havin’ Jimmy Creech sittin’ in the sulky driving like the devil he is.”