Steve watched the brown stallion drop back as those before him had done. He knew what he had to do again to get his horse away. He sat balanced, awaiting the precise second when by his weight and hands he could move Flame on to the last horse in front of them.
He saw Kingfisher begin to wobble and then bear out as they swept into the turn. Flame tried to swerve with him, but Steve had seen the opening left on the rail … and just beyond, three lengths away, was the leader, Bismarck! Steve moved quickly, tipping his weight to the inside and pulling hard on the left rein. Flame’s head came around, and then the red stallion saw the running bay leader beyond!
Steve was taking Flame over to the rail when Kingfisher swerved back, closing the opening that had been there! Steve felt Flame gather himself to attack the horse before him. Desperately he threw his weight to the outside, and as his body and hands moved, Kingfisher suddenly stumbled and went down in a sprawling heap.
With the agility of one who has faced such emergencies in many battles, Flame avoided the fallen horse. He swerved, then jumped, twisting in the air. When he came down he sought to check his great speed in order to turn upon his beaten opponent. He felt the ground rise beneath his running feet, and then he saw the streaming outer rail which had caused him pain once before. In fear of it he quickly responded to the pressure upon his back to go on. He swept along the high banked turn and when the ground leveled out again he saw a lone horse running just beyond. His ears flattened in still another charge of relentless fury.
“In the homestretch,” the announcer called, “it’s still Bismarck by four lengths. Flame is second….”
Steve heard the announcement but not the screams from the stands to their right. With each closing stride between the two stallions, he tried to decide what to do in this final run. His horse would catch up with Bismarck before the finish. But between the leader and the wire there was an empty track. What would happen when Flame saw no other horse beyond Bismarck? How could he get him to go on? If Flame hesitated or swerved to do battle with Bismarck the race would be lost.
Flame stretched his head, baring his teeth in his fury and reaching for Bismarck as he had done with the others. Steve slipped back in his seat, ready now to shift his balance and turn Flame away from Bismarck regardless of the outcome of the race. He gripped the reins tighter, and the heat coming from them seared his hands. He waited until Flame was close to the bay stallion’s sweaty hindquarters and then he swayed far to the right.
Flame jumped away in quick response. His eyes were bright with anger and frustration as he sought still another horse upon which to vent his fury. But there was no horse beyond and to his right he heard the bedlam from the stands. He drew back before the frightening, ever mounting roar, seeking again the horse to his left.
Steve knew that what he had feared was happening. His horse was not going on! He took a fraction of a second to straighten Flame’s head, keeping the stallion’s eyes focused on the track. Suddenly there was a flash of red beyond the wire. The crimson-coated outrider and his pinto horse had moved onto the track awaiting the finish of the race.
Flame saw the outrider’s mount and he swept forward eagerly, leaving Bismarck behind in great leaps. There was no slackening of his speed when he passed beneath the finish wire, for here at last was an opponent coming forward to meet him in combat!
THE END …
19
If the spectators had not known previously that they were witnessing the furious charges of an unbroken stallion, they were aware of it immediately following the end of the race. For the great red horse who had won surged past the finish line like a raging demon. They saw the object of his attack, for the outrider’s pinto horse was rearing high in the air while his rider sought to take him off the track.
In silent horror they watched the distance close between the two horses. They saw the outrider slip from his saddle and vault the rail, leaving his horse alone to face the red stallion. They did not blame him for his fear.
Their eyes swept to the huddled figure on the back of the red horse as the jockey suddenly straightened, then twisted. They thought that he too would vault from his horse before the clash of bodies came. But he stayed on and they saw the quick movements of his hands.
The pinto horse came down, trembling in his fear, then bolted for the paddock gate. The red stallion swerved, cutting off escape, and the pinto rose again, screaming in terror. The red stallion plunged forward, but before he reached his opponent, the crowd saw his rider move again. The stallion swerved abruptly away from the pinto, his strides coming long and fast as he swept down the track! In stunned silence the spectators watched him round the turn and go into the backstretch.
Suddenly a small, well-dressed man appeared on the track, waving his arms in front of the red horse and its rider. Impatiently the hushed spectators awaited an official explanation of what they had witnessed. When, instead, the red horse was taken out through the stable area gate and nothing was heard coming over the public address system, their voices broke as one and the great stands were no longer quiet.
The truck moved slowly through the stable area of El Dorado Park. Steve listened to the continuous roar of the crowd while pulling the red blanket over Flame’s wet, trembling body.
“They’ll follow us for sure,” he told Jay through the open cab window.
“Let them,” the man answered impatiently, “as long as they don’t try to stop us. I won’t tolerate any further delay.”
Steve pulled the blanket high up on Flame’s head and pinned it tight. “Will you be late?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” Jay said. Then he added eagerly, “Oh, it was a race, Steve! There’ll never be one to equal it. Nobody else could have ridden as you did today. No other horse could have run so fast. I scarcely believed my eyes, Steve. I stood there stunned, forgetting everything but the sheer beauty of it.”
Steve said nothing. Perhaps later he would see the beauty of it, too. But not now. Nothing was real except that they had won. He wanted only to be back in Blue Valley.
The truck went faster once they were outside the park. Steve steadied Flame, but did not tell Jay to slow down. After a long while the man said, “I do wish I didn’t have to rush things so. The post-race ceremonies would have been a lot of fun, Steve.”
Steve remained silent.
“And the purse, that fifty thousand dollars … I wish I could make it up to you. But I can’t, Steve. I just can’t afford that much. Maybe you can claim the money later?”
No, he’d never claim the purse at the risk of losing something which to him was so much more valuable than money. “It’s not important,” he told Jay.
“A nice way to look at it, but not very practical,” the man answered. “However, it’s strictly your decision to make. I just regret that we didn’t have the time …”
“I think it’s better this way,” Steve said. “Hurry up, Jay.”
Jay stepped more heavily on the accelerator. “I guess you’re right. Hold on now, Steve. We’re outside Havana and I’m really going to run this motor over.”
City noises were left behind but there still remained the roar of many cars following them.
“Who’s behind us, Jay?” Steve asked anxiously.
The man’s gaze shifted to the side mirror. “Probably newspaper men and photographers,” Jay answered. “At least I can see cameras in some of the open cars.”
“They’re not trying to stop us?”
“No, just staying with us, Steve.”
Faster and faster went the truck. Steve steadied himself and Flame. Would they get back in time, if the big ship was to leave at sunset? He took a firm grip on the side rail as the floor heaved crazily beneath his feet.
Less than an hour of the day remained when Jay swung the truck around a sharp turn and went down the dirt road which led past the house and shed. Flame was knocked off balance by the bumpy road and when his head struck the roof he snorted in fury and pain. Steve comforted him without
asking Jay to slow down, for behind them he could hear the screech of many tires rounding the turn. Soon now they would be face to face with their pursuers.
Finally the truck came to a stop, and when Jay lowered the tailgate Steve saw the taxicabs and cars parked behind.
“Bring him down as quickly as possible,” Jay said. “Time’s growing very short, Steve, and as much as I’d like to …” The newsmen surrounded him and he furiously pushed them away, his cane raised menacingly.
The newsmen fell back quickly but not because of Jay’s threats of violence. They saw the blanketed red stallion come down the tailgate, his ears flat against his head and fire burning in his eyes at sight of them. Remembering all they had witnessed at the track, they made room for him. Where was this wild, unbroken stallion being taken? Stunned, they watched his small, meticulously dressed owner step from the road and start across an open field, closely followed by horse and rider.
They called to one another not to get too close to the horse, that he was being taken somewhere, and soon they’d know the answers to all their questions. Flash bulbs brightened the day as photographers stopped to take pictures of this weird chase of the winner of the International. The story that was unfolding would be far more interesting to their readers than the race itself! Knowing this, they were content to wait.
They entered a rather dense woods and, using the trees for protection against any possible attack by the red horse, drew a little closer. Finally they saw a clearing just beyond. They looked for a farm. Certainly the end of the chase had to be here!
Their steps slowed when they stepped into the clearing, for they did not like to leave the protection afforded them by the trees. They came to an abrupt stop when the small owner ceased running. They saw him turn to his horse and rider, then he waved his hand in the air … and there were those among them who said later that they heard a soft whirring noise at that moment. They didn’t go any closer.
Flashlight bulbs popped as the photographers took advantage of the few precious seconds in which to shoot pictures. When the barrage of light was over, the clearing was empty.
For a moment the newsmen stood in stunned, shocked silence. Then one of them walked forward, stopped in the middle of the clearing and continued on, finding nothing. The others turned to one another, still silent and unmoving, their eyes asking questions they could not ask aloud … and there were no answers.
Miles upon miles above the clearing, Steve Duncan sat in the cruiser and was as silent as the newsmen they had left behind.
“Comfortable, Steve? I’m trying to give you as much room as possible after all your hard work.”
“Yes, thanks.” He saw the flaming backdrop of the sun out the window. He might have been sitting by himself in outer space, except that there was no rush of air, no ripping, sucking void, nothing but deathly quietness and finally the revolving heavens. They must be turning now.
Jay spoke again, his voice less grim than it had been below. “I’ll get back in time, Steve, just a matter of a minute or so now.”
Steve said nothing.
“I won’t forget that race,” Jay went on. “I’ve never seen such speed!”
Steve remained silent, and finally Jay said, “You’re wondering why I should be so impressed by a horse’s speed when we’re traveling pretty fast right now, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
The man chuckled. But there was no laughter in his voice when he said, “Don’t envy our perfection of mass acceleration, Steve. Sure, there’s no place in the universe we can’t go, but actually you should feel sorry for us.”
“Sorry?” Steve asked.
“Sorry,” Jay repeated. “Perhaps your people won’t make the same mistake we did, but most likely they will. We perfected so many startling things, Steve, that in our haste and eagerness to get on we left behind something pretty valuable in itself. You have one of them standing right beside you.”
The heavens began to move faster and Steve knew they had begun their descent. “Flame?” he asked. “Are horses what you mean, Jay?”
“Not only horses, Steve,” Jay answered quietly, “but all animals.”
Steve saw the Caribbean Sea rushing to meet them, then the glowing patch on the water, even before he could make out Azul Island.
“We’re not the same without animals,” Jay continued, “although many of us are inclined to think so; Flick is one. Oh, it’s not what you may think of as my selfish interest in the race horse that prompts me to say this. For generation upon generation I’ve seen what’s happening to our young people. They need animals desperately.”
Steve felt Jay’s hand on his arm. “Don’t envy us our ships of metal, Steve. Your love for Flame and his love for you go far beyond anything that we have to offer our young people. Young hands such as yours that can calm a frightened animal are the beginning of better worlds for all of us. It’s love without selfishness, and by achieving such a state you and your people are well on your way. I earnestly hope that you’ll never go astray as we did, traveling the bright, gay avenues that consist only of material things.”
“Will I see you again?” Steve asked.
“I don’t know, Steve. It will be a long, long time, if I do return.”
“In your time or mine, Jay?”
“Yours, of course, Steve. It won’t be long for me. You wouldn’t even notice any change in me. But you …”
“Yes, Jay? Will I be an old man?”
“Pretty old, Steve,” Jay replied quietly.
Azul Island had emerged from the sea, a speck, a dot, then the walls of Blue Valley enveloped them. As Steve’s body swayed, Jay spoke. “It’s just as easy for me to drop you off here, Steve. You’ve had a hard day, and I’ll see that your launch gets back. I still have time for that.”
All was quiet again. Steve felt Jay’s hand on his arm, helping him to his feet.
“Out with you now,” Jay said with feigned lightness. “We must part for a little while.”
“A little while, Jay? It won’t be a little while at all. It’ll be a long time … a long, long time!”
“You’re tired and upset, Steve,” Jay’s voice came from a great distance. “I’ve asked too much of you these last few days. You’d better rest. Here’s a good spot. Stretch out now. Take it nice and easy, Steve. That’s it, go to sleep now … go to sleep….”
… AND THE BEGINNING
20
Steve Duncan opened his eyes to find his hands clasped beneath his head while he lay on the ground. A long blade of succulent grass was between his lips and he removed it, wondering when he’d put it there. The waterfall droned behind him and some of the mares nickered. Foals answered in high-pitched, wavering neighs.
He looked at the sky. It was well past sunset but the brilliant afterglow still colored the clouds.
Jay and his friends would be gone by now. Steve sat up, turning again to the sky, wishing he could have seen their ship rise from this world. But then Jay had said it glowed only when landing. So even if he’d stayed awake he wouldn’t have seen it.
Getting to his feet, he found Flame with the band. His horse wore neither the red blanket nor the bridle, so Jay had taken those with him. Disappointment flared in Steve’s eyes, for he would have liked to keep the hackamore. Then Jay would have been with him always, regardless of the light years and endless space which separated them.
He called to Flame, wanting to make certain his horse had suffered no injuries from the race and trip. There was no sign of lameness or injury in the stallion when Flame came to him at a fast walk. In fact Flame looked so fresh and eager that it seemed to Steve he could have raced again, at that very moment, with no trouble at all.
Steve walked around his horse, finding no caked dirt or mud from the track on the red body. He picked up the oval-shaped hoofs and found them clean also. Quickly he went to Flame’s right side again, searching for evidence of the long burn from the outer rail. Here too he was disappointed, finding nothing but the jagged sc
ars he had known before.
Flame looked as if … yes, he looked as if he had not raced at all!
Steve turned quickly away from Flame, and the first light of uncertainty appeared in his eyes. He climbed the trail as fast as his legs would carry him, stopping only at the ledge to grab a flashlight and go on. Upon reaching the tunnel he went inside, his strides coming faster than he’d ever traveled the underground world. Finally he reached the slits in the far western wall of Azul Island. He looked hard and long, searching but finding nothing except the flat, still surface of the Caribbean Sea. He rushed headlong through the tunnels again, telling himself that he hadn’t really expected to find the white patch on the water. The big ship had left at sunset.
When he arrived back at the ledge he went first to the box in which he kept the empty food tins before burying them. But once there he turned quickly away, telling himself there was no way of gauging if the box was any more full than when he had left with Pitch for Antago. Burying the cans was one of the jobs he had meant to do immediately upon his return.
When had he returned … days ago?… or an hour ago? He remembered stretching out on the grass, looking up at the sky that was so spotted with small, fleecy clouds. He hadn’t wanted to fall asleep. But had he slept after all? Was this the very same day? Were Jay and Flick and their ship nothing but a fantastic dream that had included racing Flame?
He moved quickly to the rear of the cave to get Pitch’s can of tea. He looked at it, wondering exactly how much tea Pitch had left there. Jay and Flick had liked their tea strong, so he must have used a lot. Or had he? There was no way of being sure.
The can dropped from his hands and he ran down the trail, calling to Flame at the top of his voice. The stallion came from the nearby pool at his call, and Steve mounted him quickly. Then he rode down the valley, feeling the surge of muscles that carried him along at greater and greater speed. Flame could not have raced only a few hours before and go so fast now! A numbness swept over Steve, yet he continued taking his horse through the marsh and gorge and finally across the smaller valley.
The Island Stallion Races Page 17