Black Stallion and Satan

by Walter Farley

  The last day of the test arrived, and late in the afternoon the State Veterinarian called the owners, trainers and press to the porch of his home. In his hands were the certificates testifying to the good health of the racers stabled in the barn.

  The veterinarian began by thanking the group for their cooperation and patience. But Alec wasn’t listening to him; instead he was whispering excitedly in Henry’s ear, “This is it, Henry! This is what I’ve been waiting for. Satan and the Black are …”

  “Shh,” Henry said.

  But Alec went on, his enthusiasm and happiness knowing no bounds. “They’re all right, Henry. Both of them. We can take them home. Let’s try to buy a couple of good mares for the Black right this winter, Henry,” he added quickly. “Then we can start breeding right away. Don’t you think that’s a good idea … to get going right now, I mean?”

  Henry turned to him. “Sure, Alec,” he whispered. “It’s a good idea, providing we can find the right mares.”

  Henry’s name was called by the veterinarian, and he went forward to get their two certificates.

  A short while later the group broke up, with the veterinarian suggesting that they remove the horses from the farm the following morning, if possible.

  They all went to the barn, where the news photographers were taking pictures. Napoleon was in the stall directly opposite the Black, and Tony was with him. Waving the certificate, Alec ran to the stall.

  “He’s-a part Black and part Satan now,” Tony said with a grin when Napoleon pushed his head hard against the boy. “See, Aleec, he knows it. But now he mus’ go back to work and maybe he no like that.”

  “Tony,” Alec said, “I’ve wanted to ask you something.”

  The huckster stopped fondling Napoleon. “Yes, Aleec?”

  “You said that Napoleon has worked hard all his life, didn’t you?”

  “You betcha. I get him when he was three year old. An’ now he’s-a seventeen. That’s,” Tony stopped to count on his fingers, “fourteen years I work him.”

  “Would you want to retire him then?”

  Tony looked at the boy, and slowly the small pinpoints of light in his black eyes flared brightly. “You mean, Aleec …”

  “We’d sure like to have him at the farm, Tony. But he’d still be your horse. He could take it nice and easy for the rest of his life. He’d be a big help to us, too, Tony, for he gets along so well with both the Black and Satan. But how do you feel about it?”

  “Sure, I mees him,” Tony said. “But when you love a horse you think of him, yes? So I think of him and I say he go with you, Aleec … to rest and play.”

  “But you’ll promise to come up to the farm every weekend, when Mother and Dad come up? You’ll do that, Tony?”

  “You no can keep me away, Aleec. I come to see you and Nappy every week. We go now?” he asked excitedly.

  “No, not until tomorrow morning. But we’ll get an early start and be at our farm before dark. And just think, Tony,” he added slowly, “all this will be behind us.”

  “An’ forgotten, yes?” Tony asked.

  “Yes, forgotten,” Alec repeated, rubbing Napoleon’s nose while behind him the Black neighed shrilly for attention.

  TRAPPED!

  16

  Back at the inn that same evening, a party was held in the dining room. And now that the haunting fear of swamp fever was a thing of the past, each owner and trainer talked only of the speed of his horse … of Sea King and Kashmir, of Avenger and Phar Fly, of Cavaliere and Satan. For many hours they discussed the race that had never been run and what might have happened. And they talked about the possibility of their horses meeting this coming winter in Florida, or next summer, or perhaps not until next year’s running of the International Cup.

  “And maybe never,” Alec heard Henry tell the group. “Things happen fast in this business. Who can tell what’s goin’ to happen even a few months from now? I’m not one for doin’ my racing ahead of time.”

  “And what about the Black, Henry?” someone asked. “You must have some plans for him. He’ll need some real schooling if you intend to race him.”

  “Alec is retiring him,” Henry replied. “Satan is going to do the racing for this stable.”

  Jim Neville left the group and joined Alec. “They’ve all been talking a good race except you, Alec. What do you think about it?”

  “The International, you mean?”

  Jim nodded.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Alec said, “What difference does it make now who would’ve won? I haven’t even thought about it for a long time.”

  “For forty days?”

  “Yes,” Alec said, “for forty days.” He paused before adding, “It wasn’t important then, and it isn’t now.”

  “You’re right, of course,” Jim said. “But now that the danger is over, it’s only human nature for us to go back and try to guess what would have happened in a race of that kind.”

  “I wouldn’t have been in it anyway,” Alec said.

  “You were actually going to withdraw the Black from the race?”

  “Sure we were, Jim. You saw what happened with Kashmir. It isn’t fair to the Black or to the others. He’s not trained to race.”

  “But he could be,” Jim suggested slowly.

  “We’ve been through this before,” Alec replied a little angrily. “I don’t want it that way. You know that, Jim.”

  “I know,” Jim agreed, trying to appease the boy. “I just thought you might have changed your mind.”

  “I’m more certain now than ever before,” Alec said.

  Henry joined them, and Jim Neville turned to him, asking, “You told me back at the track, Henry, that Satan wasn’t going to have any trouble winning the International. I was wondering if that was before or after you and Alec had decided to withdraw the Black?”

  Henry turned to Alec and found the boy’s intent gaze upon him. Lowering his eyes, Henry said, “What difference does it make? They’re both in our stable.”

  “None,” Jim replied, “except I thought I’d just like to know. You remember saying that Satan was the faster.”

  “All right. It was before we decided to withdraw the Black,” Henry interrupted. “But that was only my opinion.” Henry met the boy’s gaze. “And certainly not Alec’s,” he concluded.

  Mr. Ramsay and Tony joined them, and Henry managed to change the subject.

  After the party ended, Alec and Henry went out on the inn’s porch. The night was clear and the strong wind felt good on their faces. Sitting down on the steps, Alec said, “We’ll put Napoleon and the Black in your van won’t we, Henry?”

  “Yes,” his friend said, sitting down beside him. “I’ve hired another van and driver to follow us with Satan. Tony will ride with your father, I guess.”

  “And we’re still figuring on an early start?”

  “The earlier the better,” Henry replied. “It’ll be wise to get the Black outa the barn before the others start leaving … means less excitement all around.”

  “It’s going to be good to get away from all this,” Alec said.

  Henry smiled. “I don’t mind all this talkin’ that goes on though, Alec. Fact is, I kinda like it. The older you get the more you seem to talk about what your horse could have done or what he might do. None of us means any harm by it. An’ even the sportswriters—like Jim Neville—talk about it because it’s their interest just like ours. An’ the more they get us to talk the more stories they seem to get for their papers. An’ that’s the way it goes.”

  “I know,” Alec said. “It’s just that it’s too soon after what …”

  “You took it too hard for too long,” Henry interrupted. “I told you to relax a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Sure you did,” Alec said. “But I couldn’t do it.”

  The lights had been turned out, and the sound of footsteps on the stairs had long since died away, when a car came down the street, stopping before the inn. A man got out, carrying a small suitcas
e.

  Alec and Henry had moved to one side of the steps to give him room to pass.

  “ ’Evening,” Henry said.

  “Good evening,” the man returned. He stopped, pointing to the north. “They got another forest fire up there. I passed it this afternoon on the way down the valley.”

  Turning to the north, Henry and Alec could just make out the red glow on the horizon. “How far north?” Henry asked anxiously.

  “Oh, must be a hundred miles. We don’t need to worry about that one,” the man added assuredly. “They had it under control all right.”

  “ ‘That one’?” Henry repeated. “Are there any other fires?”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t mean that there are other fires. It’s just that one never can tell with the woods so dry and no rain at all. It’s sure bad … all along the line it’s bad. Keeps the rangers busy, all right. But they have the equipment and never seem to let these fires get too far out of hand before they control them. Well, good night now.”

  When the man had left them, Henry said sarcastically, “A real cheerful guy.”

  “But I still don’t like the idea of having a fire so close,” Alec said. “This is the closest yet.”

  “A hundred miles isn’t so close,” Henry said.

  Alec sniffed. “Maybe it’s closer. I think I can smell smoke.”

  Henry’s lip curled. “Naw, there’s nothin’. Just your imagination. Besides,” Henry added, “he said they had it under control.”

  “But embers can be carried a long distance on this wind,” Alec said solemnly.

  “You won’t be givin’ me any peace until I get you and the Black and Satan outa here,” Henry growled. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

  They rose and went to the room they shared.

  Alec had no idea how long he had slept before he suddenly found himself wide awake. He reached for the clock on the small stand between his and Henry’s beds. The luminous dial told him that it was five o’clock, and he knew he had another half-hour before the alarm would go off. It would give them enough time to eat breakfast and still be at the barn before daylight. They’d be well on their way before the others even reached the barn.

  Alec lay back on his pillow again. He’d go to sleep if he could, for there was no sense disturbing Henry’s rest. He had closed his eyes when he first became conscious of the smell of wood smoke in his nostrils. Suddenly remembering the northern fire, he sat straight up in bed. He sniffed again. Henry couldn’t say he was just imagining this! He smelled smoke with every breath he took!

  “Henry!” Alec shouted at the top of his voice. He jumped out of bed and began shaking his friend.

  Startled, Henry sat upright. “Eh? Uh. W-what’s the matter, Alec?”

  “Smoke! Let’s get out of here!”

  Henry sniffed quickly, then threw the covers off.

  Alec tossed Henry’s pants to him while pulling on his own. “I looked out the window but couldn’t see anything,” Alec said. Their room faced east.

  “Might be the smoke from that other fire just coming downwind,” Henry said, pulling on his clothes. “After they’d put it out,” he added quickly.

  They were out in the hall when Mr. Ramsay and Tony opened the door of the next room. They had their clothes half on. “You woke us, Alec. Where do you think it’s coming from?”

  “We’re goin’ to see,” Henry said, running to the stairs. “You’d better wake up the manager of this place.”

  Alec was following Henry down the stairs when the door of Jim Neville’s room opened and the newspaperman shouted after them.

  Outside the inn the smell of wood smoke was very distinct. And to the west the somber red of fire lightened the night sky.

  “The farm!” Alec shouted shrilly. “It’s right there, Henry!”

  “Behind it!” Henry shouted. “Get the keys to your father’s car, Alec!”

  The boy was running back toward the steps when Jim Neville came out the door. “We’ll use my car, Alec. C’mon!”

  Reaching Jim’s car, all three squeezed into the front seat and the columnist quickly drove away. They sped down the main street, then turned left onto the blacktop road.

  When they reached the bridge, Jim Neville said grimly, “The wind is coming from the west, bringing the fire right toward us. The rangers will be able to stop it when it reaches the valley.”

  But for Alec there was no solace in Jim’s words. Directly ahead the sky was becoming brighter and in the path of the sweeping wind-driven fire was the state farm. “Faster, Jim!” he shouted. “We’ve got to get there before the fire!”

  “Got her down to the floor now,” was all Jim said.

  They came off the blacktop road and onto the dirt without slackening speed. They could see the smoke before the fire.… It was moving, waving, drifting all about them.

  The woods closed in upon the road and the air became soft and warm as they traveled closer toward the heart of the fire.

  “It hasn’t reached the barn yet,” Henry cried. “I’m sure it hasn’t! Hurry up, Jim! We’re going to make it!”

  Bouncing, swaying, the car tore down the dirt road, and when they finally came to the left turn leading to the farm, they could actually hear the roar of the fire.

  And when they reached the farm they saw it! From the dark pine forest behind the barn came the roar of wind and fire. Flames reached out amid the treetops, grasping, devouring everything in their path.

  But the gazes of the three in the car left this blazing line of fire for the barn. Out of the door, one by one, came the horses!

  “The vet and his men must be in the barn!” Henry shouted. “They’re driving the horses out of there.”

  Phar Fly was the first horse out of the barn and, galloping, he went directly to the open gate leading into the field. Avenger followed him, and closely behind came Cavaliere, Sea King and Kashmir.

  “But they can’t get out that way!” Alec yelled as Jim brought the car to a stop. “They’ll be cornered by the fire there!”

  Alec was out of the car and running toward the barn when Satan galloped through the doors, his nostrils dilated and snorting in the smoke-filled air. Alec called to him, but the burly colt bolted and followed the others into the field.

  “Satan! Satan!” Alec screamed at the top of his voice.

  The boy turned back to the barn to find Napoleon coming through the door. Desperately he attempted to head him off, but the old gray swerved away from him to join the others in their run down the long field from which there was no escape.

  When Alec stepped inside the barn a heavy bay horse came directly at him and the boy recognized the second test horse. Catching him by the halter, he held him until Henry joined them. “Take him to the road, Henry!” The boy ran into the barn.

  The smoke was denser there than outside, and the roar of the fire was almost upon them. He made out the forms of the veterinarian and his men at the Black’s stall. Then the door opened and, screaming, the stallion plunged from his stall and came down the corridor.

  Alec flung himself at the Black’s head when the stallion swept by. His fingers found the halter and held it, but there was no slackening of the Black’s stride and Alec was pulled along the floor.

  And at that moment the fire reached the barn.

  FIRE, ADDED STARTER!

  17

  Just outside the door the Black came to an abrupt stop and Alec heard Henry shout, “Let go! I’ve got him. Get to the car! Quick!”

  But Alec’s hand remained on the stallion’s halter while he struggled to get to his feet. The veterinarian and his men ran past and, looking back, Alec saw the roof of the barn already engulfed in flames. Behind the barn and as far as he could see everything was a blinding spectacle of white and golden fury, and his eyes blurred as he looked upon it.

  Acres of dry forest had been devoured by the flames, and now the strong wind was carrying the line of sweeping fire to the men. The air was alive with tiny particles of fire, and Alec’s face s
marted and stung as he hurried along beside the Black toward where Jim Neville was waiting in the car. The veterinarian’s car sped down the road with the men shouting back for them to hurry still faster.

  Suddenly the stallion half-reared, simultaneously whistling his ringing blast of hate and menace. Turning to the field, Alec saw the racers coming in a group around the bend. For a moment he thought they were running for the gate and the road, but then they turned, galloping back down the field at sight of the fire. Frantically Alec called to Satan, but the burly colt moved away with the others.

  The Black whistled again, and this time a shrill neigh answered his challenge! It was then that Alec saw Napoleon move away from the upper edges of the field. The gray horse stood still, undecided whether or not to follow the racers.

  Shaking his disheveled head, the Black whistled again.

  Henry held him firm, trying to pull him toward the road. “Hurry him up, Alec!” he shouted. “We’ve only got a few minutes before the fire reaches the road, then there’s no getting out!”

  Alec moved the Black faster, but his eyes remained on Napoleon. Suddenly, around the bend of the field Satan appeared again, running alone! His giant black body moved uncertainly as he swerved abruptly in one direction, then another, seeking escape from the fenced field.

  “Satan! Satan!” screamed Alec. If only his colt would go to the gate and if Napoleon would follow him! They still had time before the fire reached the road!

  But Satan turned away from the gate once he felt the terrible onslaught of heat. Screaming, he bolted toward Napoleon. And when he swept past the gray, Napoleon whinnied and followed him down the field.

  “No! No! No!” Alec cried hysterically.

  “My God! Move, Alec. Move! We can’t help them!” Henry was pushing Alec, trying to move the boy and stallion past the car. “Let him go in front of us,” he shouted. “We’ll run the car behind him!”

  But the boy turned his head to look once more at the sweeping line of fire racing through the pine tops, sweeping across the grass. The barn was gone, the dry grass before the barn was already afire; in a matter of seconds now the gate would be closed forever to the horses. And then the fire would sweep through the trees surrounding the long and narrow field; the horses would be ringed by flame and driven to their destruction! Was this the horrible fate that was to befall all except the Black? Could he do nothing for them … for Satan, for Napoleon?