The Black Stallion and the Girl

by Walter Farley

  “I never thought I’d actually see him,” she said, without turning to look at Alec. She was aware of nothing but the magnificent black horse. He was huge—so big, so powerful in chest and shoulders that in strength and beauty he surpassed anything she’d ever seen.

  She called to him, her voice very low and gentle. Satan remained still, like a statue with the rays of the sun streaming upon it. A muscle quivered in his marvelously smooth skin, then another and still another. He was aware of her, and she spoke to him again.

  Satan’s chest swelled, his nostrils trembled; then he turned toward her, his eyes lighting up as he moved across the stall. He stood before the iron bars, eager for attention.

  She reached into the stall and touched him, rubbing the white, diamond-shaped star in the center of his forehead.

  Alec said, “He was a devil to break, but Henry Dailey, our trainer, worked on him as he will never work on another horse. Satan became a truly great horse, very competitive yet willing to obey the slightest hint of rein or leg. As far as Henry is concerned, Satan is the best we ever had.”

  “And for you?”

  “No, not for me,” he said quietly. “I have the Black.”

  The stallion’s warm breath was caressing her hand. “You’re both very lucky,” she said, turning to him. “The most splendid gift of all is a noble horse. I suppose each of us chooses the horse he loves most for his own sake, not for the horse’s sake. And each of us takes care of him not for the horse’s sake but for his own.”

  Alec laughed at her unusual philosophy. “You mean we make our favorite horses what we are ourselves?” he asked.

  “Something like that,” she replied. “Henry must demand unquestioned obedience, right?”

  “He does.”

  “And you? What have you made of the Black?”

  Alec smiled, enjoying her honest straightforwardness. “I didn’t make anything of him, really,” he said. “I asked and he gave. I’d say the Black was more tamed than trained. It’s always a little precarious when he’s being handled.”

  “You mean there’s always some danger involved?”

  “Always,” he said.

  “And you wouldn’t want it any other way,” she said boldly. “Now I know you better.”

  She looked at him mischievously, and there were little quivers at the corners of her mouth. Finally, her smile broke through.

  “I’ve known all along that girls have a reputation for loving horses and being passionately interested in learning about them,” Alec said, “but I didn’t know it included analyzing their riders and trainers as well.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Each of us does his own thing, whatever makes him most happy.”

  A few minutes later they walked along the paddock fences, their bodies lean and sharp, both wearing worn, blue Levi’s. Their eyes followed the two-year-old colts at play.

  “Splendor in the morning sun!” she exclaimed. “And I’m sharing it with you, the most famous rider in all the land. It’s hard to believe.”

  “Please,” Alec said self-consciously, “if you’re going to work here …”

  “Am I?” she asked, turning to him. “If you hire me, I promise never to call you famous again.”

  “I’ll decide when I see you ride.”

  “You’ll be able to tell?”

  “Yes. And that will be the end of it.”

  “Or the beginning,” she said confidently. “Which horse?” she asked, turning back to the colts.

  “Take your pick. They’re all green-broke.”

  “My choice,” she said, her gaze going to each paddock. It was difficult to decide and she took a long time. They were all so beautiful, so filled with their own strength and spirit and rivalry for each other.

  With mounting impatience, Alec remarked, “You said that one selects a horse for his own sake, not for the horse’s sake, so choose.”

  “There he is,” she said, her answer quick and keen.

  Black Sand was racing down his paddock toward them. He made a sweeping turn and ran by. “Yes, that’s the one,” Pam said eagerly, climbing the fence to sit on the top rail.

  Alec said reluctantly, “It’s a bad choice. He’s the only one in the whole bunch I shouldn’t let you ride. Pick another.” He’d had enough trouble because of Black Sand for one day.

  She turned back to the colt. He was dark brown, almost black, with a wide blaze running from forehead to nostrils and long white stockings on all four legs. “But why?” she asked finally.

  “He’s the only one that hasn’t been ridden in well over a month,” Alec replied. “It wouldn’t be fair to you. This is no contest, no challenge I’m asking of you. I only want to watch you ride a young horse.”

  Black Sand had come to a stop nearby, inquisitive and looking for attention. Sweat covered his flanks and he constantly tossed his head and whinnied.

  “Is your concern for me or for the horse?” Pam asked.

  “For you. He’s by Satan, whose colts have his temperament, and the dam was an outside mare. His owner couldn’t handle him.”

  The colt was close enough for Pam to see the deep scars running across his body. “From a whip?” she asked after a moment’s silence.

  Alec nodded. “Before we got him,” he answered.

  “I hope you lashed the owner as well.”

  “No, but we took him to court and got the colt away from him. That’s more important.”

  “A man like that will probably never change,” she said sadly, “but the horse will.” She swung off the fence and caught the colt by the halter. Alec was stunned by her quickness, as Black Sand must have been.

  There was no wickedness in the colt’s deep-set eyes, only a settled rage—first a spark and then fire—at being held fast. He tried to rear but Pam kept him still.

  “He is well where he should be well,” she called to Alec. “If you let me ride him, it will be easy for you to decide. You’ll know one way or another in a matter of minutes.”

  Alec accepted her challenge, knowing she was right. He felt that he could accurately predict the phases of the coming battle. If she could handle Black Sand, he’d certainly hire her. It was more than the men had been able to do.

  The colt snorted and Pam soothed him with a caress. His nostrils were wide and flaring, his eyes surprised and rebellious. He moved his big body against hers and she scolded him. “I don’t have to be strong to have the courage to ride you. You belong to one who knows best how to love you, that’s all.”

  Alec came up and snapped a lead shank on the halter ring. “Okay,” he said quietly.

  Together they took Black Sand from the paddock to the training barn. They tacked him and he was so impatient to be off that he never stopped his dancing. Then Alec led him back to the enclosed paddock. “Try him here where he can’t get away from you,” he said.

  Pam’s eyes met those of the colt, so moist and brilliant. She passed her left hand over his near eye, closing the lid, while stroking the muzzle with her other hand. She began to hum softly, barely audibly, but the colt heard her.

  Alec waited, no longer impatient; he knew what she was attempting to do. The colt’s ears stood high, turning in her direction. She continued humming.

  “Get back,” she said finally. “I’ll be all right now.”

  Alec hesitated, wanting to help her mount, but she persisted. “I don’t need you. Please.”

  She removed her hand from the colt’s eye and, suddenly, she was in the saddle, all in one swing, almost before Alec was aware of it. Every joint and muscle from ankle to neck had acted as one. Score one for her, Alec thought, and now …

  The colt reared and Alec wondered what Pam would do about it. This bad habit accounted for the beatings Black Sand had taken from his former owner. There was always the danger of his going over backward and taking his rider with him.

  She thwarted his first attempt by pressing forward with all her strength and weight against his withers until he came down. He went up a
gain and this time she allowed him to reach his full height before moving her weight forward to stop him. He started down, but she flung her weight back again, the reins tight in her hands, holding him upright. His forelegs pawed the air with irregular, unordered force, trying to keep his balance beneath her shifting weight and hands.

  He tried to go over backward but Pam threw her weight forward and released the reins. His hocks trembled beneath him. He lurched forward, trying to come down on his forelegs. She wouldn’t let him, her weight and hands shifting back again as though determined to keep him on his hindlegs forever.

  Alec realized then that Pam was not one to have an idea and let it lie idle; she did something about it quickly.

  The contest went on for many minutes, with Alec watching the play of balances and counter-balances between horse and rider. What Pam was doing called for strength, skill, experience and instinct—perhaps instinct above all else. To keep the colt upright, she could not be a fraction of a second too late in correcting her hands and balance. She had to decide what he was about to do before he did it, and use her weight and strength as a counter-balance.

  Henry had thrown the colt several times in an attempt to break him of rearing, but he’d never thought of keeping him up, reaching for the sky, until the colt was grateful to come down and, perhaps, stay down.

  Pam straightened in her saddle, gripping the colt with her legs and holding him upright. His hocks trembled severely. She released him the moment he could not stand the strain any longer. She slackened the reins, loosened her knees, and hurled her weight forward.

  “Go!” she called. In a mighty leap Black Sand had his forelegs down and was galloping.

  His strides lengthened until he was approaching full speed, much too fast for so short and narrow a paddock. Alec expected him to run full tilt into the fence, if she didn’t slow him down. It was much too high to jump.

  Pam wasn’t able to slow him down but, at the last moment, she swung hard in her saddle, laying her whole body against the colt’s inner side. Then, with knees and hands, she turned him. His hurtling body was only inches from the fence, so that her outside leg was brushing against it. He flew along the fence and came racing back, the hammering of his hoofs shaking the earth.

  She managed to stop his headlong rush not far from Alec. “He’s marvelous!” she called, breathing heavily. “What’s his name?”

  “Black Sand,” Alec replied, his eyes never leaving her. He realized what she had accomplished and shared her joy. She had a better seat and hands than anyone he’d had around the farm before—and, more important, a better mind.

  “Black Sand,” she repeated, while the colt danced beneath her. “I like it. We have black sand on our beach at home. Let me take him outside,” she added eagerly. “He’s so full of run; it will do him a lot of good.”

  Alec opened the gate. She was right, and she might as well start working at once. Although she didn’t know it, she already had the job.

  “You’ll find a well-traveled path beyond the barns,” he said. “Keep to it. It’ll take you along the edge of the fields.” He was no longer concerned about her safety. One could not ride as she did without knowing her mount. Black Sand was impatient but standing still. He did not feel the weight of her body so much as he did the weight of her knowledge and understanding.

  Pam took Black Sand through the gate at a slow walk, restraint evident in his every stride.

  Alec said, “You’ll go through a bit of woods. It’ll be a good change of scenery for him, but watch out there.” He knew that she was as eager as the colt to be off again.

  She leaned over the colt’s withers and whispered into his ear, “Go!” Black Sand leaped forward in a furious bound, and she was ready for it.

  Alec watched them go, then headed for his jeep. By driving to the far end of the field, he would be able to see the greater part of her ride. Not that he believed he’d change his mind about hiring her; it was more to confirm what he already knew.

  JOY TO THE WORLD!

  3

  The girl and her horse sped across the meadow. A red cardinal flew from the heart of a thicket, frightened by their charge. Its clear, loud whistle rose above the sound of the colt’s hoofs. From somewhere above, too, came the caws of crows and the scream of a broad-winged hawk, all of them angry with this girl and her horse for disrupting the peace and stillness of the meadow.

  Nearing the wooded ridge, Pam slowed the colt to almost a walk and followed a hoof-trampled path into the woods. She stroked Black Sand’s lathered neck, and at her touch he sought to bound forward again. She laughed silently and gave into him, letting him lengthen his strides through the woods. The way was clear and the footing good; there was no need to walk when his heart was so full of run.

  A wild carpet of moss glided beneath the colt’s flying feet. Squirrels, terrified by the thunder coming down on them, scurried to trees and climbed speedily for self-protection. A rabbit flattened himself out in a hollow. Black Sand raced through open areas, too, masses of wild flowers, dandelions and buttercups, a thousand colored heads, all dancing in the spring breeze.

  The path grew narrow with trees and brush closing in upon them. Pam slowed Black Sand to a canter, careful that there were no obstacles in his path. Long, willowy branches slapped against her body.

  Suddenly, the colt reared, uttered an insane neighing shriek and, in a single leap, charged off the path. She managed to keep her seat, realizing what had happened. The tree branches had lashed him and he had taken them for a whip.

  The trees closed in on her as Black Sand crashed through the brush, fighting her hands at every stride. Repeatedly, branches lashed him until, finally, he reached the open field. He came to an abrupt halt and rose twisting in the air, then plunged. She lost her stirrups and was flung headlong through the air. She landed on the ground, tucking her legs beneath her, her knees to her stomach and her head protected under her arms. She rolled like a human ball, over and over.

  When Pam opened her eyes, she saw Black Sand a short distance away. She moved her head slowly and carefully from one side to the other, then one by one, she tried her arms and legs. She was bruised but unbroken. Lying very still, she waited, her eyes on the colt. “You did not trick me,” she called to him. “It was my mistake not to be more careful.”

  Her face was pressed against the hard earth beneath the thickness of the grass. The morning had become strangely quiet, not a cry from bird or animal—nothing. A faint breeze floated over the meadow, bathing her wet brow with a coolness. She flattened her body still more in the grass, enjoying the fresh smell of it, and began humming while keeping her eyes on the colt.

  Black Sand, no more than a dozen strides away, heard her. There was no wildness or terror left in his eyes. She continued humming, softly, but the sound carried to his ears.

  Finally, Pam raised the upper part of her body stiffly and called to him. Her voice was as soft, as tender, as her humming. She waited several minutes. The colt returned to his grazing, then stopped to look at her again.

  Now his movements were in her direction rather than away. She let her head fall back to the grass and continued humming, content to wait, knowing he could not be hurried. He would come to her in his own good time or not at all.

  Although her eyes were closed, she could hear the sound of his hoofs as he approached her. Finally, the hoofbeats stilled and she felt his warm breath on her skin. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, then reached for the dangling stirrup iron. Pulling herself to her feet, she wrapped her arms around his neck and flattened her cheek against him.

  Alec drove his jeep back to the barns and awaited Pam’s return. He had witnessed her fall and had been ready to go to her when she’d raised her body and apparently called to Black Sand. Knowing that she was all right and that the moment was critical between her and the colt, he had stayed out of it.

  What would she tell him, he wondered. Anything at all? If, to protect her job, she said nothing of her fall, then how
could he trust her with the responsibilities of the farm? She was bound to make other mistakes, as did every horseman; the danger was in concealment.

  She rode up to him in an easy canter, the smell of sweat and weariness upon her and the foam-wet colt. She smiled at him despite it and said, “He unloaded me but he didn’t run off.” Her voice was gay and friendly but curious, too, wondering how he’d take it.

  “I didn’t watch out as you said to do,” she added. “The tree branches lashed him and he tossed me. But he didn’t leave,” she repeated.

  “Yes, that’s a step forward,” Alec agreed.

  “Please hold him a second,” she said, dismounting.

  He watched her run quickly to her old car and return with a carrot. She bit the end off and spit it back into her hand, extending it to Black Sand. When the colt took it from her, she said, “Now we’re friends. We’ve broken bread together.” She touched her lips to his muzzle.

  Alec knew he’d have great trouble with Henry by hiring Pam. Moreover, he realized that he probably wouldn’t be able to keep her there, regardless of how well she did the job. She had said she did not want to be committed for a long period of time. That alarm clock she carried in her head would go off, telling her it was time to move on.

  Pam was looking at him intently and he wondered how much she’d read in his eyes. “You’ve got the job, if you still want it,” he said.

  “Oh, I do,” she answered thoughtfully. Then she turned away and said, “I’ll wash him down now. He needs it.”

  Alec’s gaze followed her as she led Black Sand to the barn. It seemed incredible, but she looked braver, prouder, freer than anyone he knew—yet she was only a young girl. Henry would try to attach every reason but the right one to his hiring her.

  The confrontation would come soon, for Alec was due back at Aqueduct race track in New York City the following day. The Black was going to race the latter part of the week. Alec decided it would be best to put off mentioning Pam until after the race. If the Black won, as expected, Henry would be in good spirits and might possibly accept a girl working for them.