The Black Stallion's Filly

by Walter Farley

  “No. He acts up a little but today he seemed more anxious than ever to get away. There’s no explanation as to why it happened. It just did. I got him down and we came out. That’s all.”

  “How’d the colt react to running behind? We all know he likes to be up front.”

  “Naturally, he runs best up front,” Seymour replied. “But he gave me no trouble while we were behind. Like any front runner he had to be shaken up with the whip going into the back turn. But he responded quickly and once he got up near the front there was no stopping him. I had nothing to do after that.”

  “How do you feel your chances are in the Kentucky Derby, Dan?”

  “Good as anybody’s,” the jockey said. “But anything can happen in that race.”

  When the program ended, Alec and Henry left the attic together. Going down the stairs Alec said, “Still think we’re going to win the Derby, Henry?”

  “Like Dan Seymour just pointed out, anything can happen in the Kentucky Derby, Alec.”

  SPRING BREEZES

  11

  In reading Sunday’s newspapers Alec and Henry learned that their great interest in the Flamingo Stakes had caused them to overlook another preparatory race for the Kentucky Derby, which had taken place the same day. It was the Louisiana Derby at New Orleans.

  Alec didn’t feel that it was an important race, but Henry reminded him that back in 1924 Black Gold had won this race and had then gone on to win the Kentucky Derby. They shouldn’t ignore it or its results, particularly since Henry liked the winner.

  The newspaper story telling of the race read:

  A big gal from the wrong side of the tracks beat the colts in Saturday’s running of the Louisiana Derby.

  Lady Lee, who was at New Orleans only because her owner and trainer didn’t feel that she was up to handling Silver Jet and other top colts in Florida, came down the homestretch to win by two lengths over the favored Sweep. The rangy brown filly’s victory was most impressive, for she was in ninth place entering the last furlong of the mile-and-an-eighth feature. Her Kentucky Derby stock was boosted by her clocking of 1:49 1/5, which compares favorably with Silver Jet’s 1:48 3/5 in winning the Flamingo. Her time was all the more impressive because the track was good but not fast.

  It has been said that to win a classic race such as the Kentucky Derby a horse must have a fashionable pedigree. Lady Lee doesn’t qualify since her sire (Tim S.) and her dam (Mae Lee) are not considered “fashionable” by those who set equine standards. Moreover, neither her sire not her dam accomplished any notable achievements on the track during their racing days.

  But many who saw Lady Lee win on Saturday claim she is as good a filly as there is in the country, and better than most of the top colts. She is large and well put together. She’s tough and seems to like distance. So although it is well known that any filly is a downright uncertain proposition in the spring, especially so in a classic distance race such as the Kentucky Derby, it just might be possible that Lady Lee will show her down-trodden heels to the colts of more fashionable pedigree.

  Lady Lee’s next engagement will be in the first Experimental Handicap in New York on April 9.

  Finishing the story, Alec asked, “What colts will she meet in the Experimental?”

  “There’s no way of telling how many will go to the post. Eclipse and Wintertime should be in there. Both have been wintering in the Carolinas.”

  “That means spring isn’t too far off, Henry.”

  “No—or the Derby either.”

  “And you like Eclipse and Wintertime, don’t you?” Alec asked.

  “I think their chances of doing something in the Derby are as good as Silver Jet’s and Golden Vanity’s, if that’s what you mean. Maybe better,” Henry added hastily.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m of the school that doesn’t believe in the winter racing of three-year-olds. It’s too tough to keep a young colt at the peak of his form from February until May.”

  “Some of the winter-raced colts have gone on to win the Kentucky Derby,” Alec reminded him. “And Silver Jet and Golden Vanity will be taking their rests now. They won’t be racing again until the last of April, just before Derby week.”

  “I know,” Henry grumbled. “I’m just prejudiced in favor of the way Eclipse and Wintertime are being trained. They’re being taken along slowly until they’re fit and ready to go. If that happens by the first Saturday in May it’s soon enough.”

  “You forgot to include Black Minx,” Alec said, smiling.

  “Black Minx then,” Henry repeated.

  The next few nights, like the days, were busy ones for Alec. Three mares foaled on successive nights. Two of the mares were owned by outside patrons, and the sires of the foals resided in Kentucky. But the third mare belonged to them and she foaled a filly by the Black.

  Alec watched the filly struggle to her feet shortly after birth. He was overjoyed that this one was a filly, the first filly by the Black to be born at Hopeful Farm. He wiped her nostrils clean and attended the mare. After the filly nursed he left the stall. He stood outside watching her and wondering what she’d be like when she grew up. She would have the gray coat of her dam. Her head and body seemed a little coarse right now but in time she might change to look more like him.

  Sires are only half, he reminded himself. None of them can be the Black all over again.

  As Henry had said time and time again, all they could ever do here at Hopeful Farm was to buy the best-blooded mares they could afford and mate them intelligently. After that they would give the foals the finest care men and money could provide, and finally the best of training. They were expensive methods and wouldn’t always pay off. But there was no other way to run Hopeful Farm or any stock farm.

  Alec left the foaling barn. Each new foal was different. Each required his own special way of handling. And it would be the same later on, as he was finding out now with Black Minx, when they became old enough to race. Henry once said, Alec remembered, that this special handling and training of the Black’s colts and fillies was exactly what made it all so exciting and worthwhile. How right he was! Hopeful Farm wasn’t the end of the road for any of them—for himself or Henry, for the Black or Satan. Actually, it was just the beginning of new adventures!

  During the following week, the third in March, the wind shifted to the south, bringing with it the early spring Alec had sought. Every day the sun shone hot, and Alec was able to see, in paddocks and fields, the first green tinge. Most certainly he could smell the grass starting to grow again. And there was no doubt that the towering tulip tree behind the stallion barn was budding. Or that there was a sudden influx of birds in fields and bushes. All week long, as he went about his work, he watched the flight of the birds through the silky spring air.

  Early Saturday morning Alec held the filly’s bridle while Henry saddled her. “We got what you wanted, Henry—an easy winter. Now spring is here,” he said excitedly.

  Henry’s eyes never left the girth strap he was tightening. “I know,” he replied. “She’s as hard as I could want her. Now we’ll start her real work.”

  “Today?”

  “Yeah. Come on. Get up now.” He boosted Alec into the saddle, and led the filly up the lane. “From here on we get real serious,” he added.

  The track was soft but not slippery. There were no puddles, for the sandy loam had absorbed all moisture from the previous week’s rain. Black Minx stepped lightly on the track, more restless than usual, as if she too knew that spring was at hand.

  Alec held her close. “What’ll it be, Henry?”

  “Breeze a half in about fifty seconds. Then gallop out the rest of the mile.”

  Black Minx tossed her head, but Henry held on to her bridle.

  Alex said, “I doubt that I can rate her, Henry. When she takes the bit she’ll work the limit of her speed.” He knew the difference between a work and a breeze, but the filly didn’t. And there was no way of teaching her. When Henry called for “breezin
g” he wanted his horse to move fast, but at the same time to be held under a snug hold and not allowed to reach the limit of its speed. When he called for a “work” he wanted his horse to go at top speed, with urging if necessary.

  How could breezes and works be specified in the training of Black Minx?

  Henry said, “Let her have the bit but take it away from her several times during the half-mile. That’ll slow her down.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. She’ll get wise to what we’re doing if we try that game very often. It’ll ruin everything.”

  “Maybe so,” Henry agreed. “Then take the bit from her before reaching the half. Do it at about the three-eighths post. That should make her finish the half-mile about right.”

  Alec nodded. “Let go of the bridle, Henry.”

  Henry stepped back. Although Alec kept the filly still, he was alert to the moving of her mouth. He wanted her to break with the bit between her teeth. That’s the way it would be in a race. He gave her a little more freedom of rein but kept control. She started toying with the bit, and he felt her teeth on it. He glanced at Henry and nodded.

  Leaning forward he whispered softly, “Whoa, girl. Still now.” His hands turned the bit over to her. Her ears pitched forward. Her body quivered in excitement as she moved the bit.

  Alec knew she was getting ready to bolt with him. He encouraged her recklessness still more by whispering again, “Steady, girl. Whoa.” Her ears flicked back at his words, and then pitched forward again.

  Suddenly she was off, the bit between her teeth! Alec moved forward, giving her freedom of movement. But his hands were now working in a feigned attempt to stop her. And he did not forget to repeat the command “Whoa!” in her ear every few seconds.

  She streaked down the stretch, and as she entered the turn, her small head was stretched out, pulling the reins tight. Alec smiled as he shifted his weight into the turn with her. He was careful to see that no hasty, abrupt movement of his hands would dislodge the bit from between her teeth. He pressed his head hard against her straining neck, and continued to plead with her to stop.

  The rail and posts sped by. How this filly could run, when she wanted to! Her light feet barely touched the ground before they were up again, driving her on. In his excitement Alec almost forgot to cry “Whoa!” It was so natural for him to urge and encourage his mount to greater speed. So strange to keep such a tight hold on the reins, to call out in protest of her speed. Such a bewildering way to get the filly to extend herself!

  Only when they were in the middle of the back turn did he remember Henry’s instructions. As they passed the three-eighths pole, Alec moved his hands carefully. Black Minx fought him desperately as he tried to get the bit loose. She tossed her head, swerving across the track, not caring where she went. Alec succeeded in getting the bit away from her in time to straighten her out before she went completely off the track. She slowed down as soon as he had control again. Alec took her down the homestretch and around the oval again, finishing out the mile in a gallop as Henry had wanted.

  On their way back to the barn, Henry said, “Her fighting and swerving when you take the bit from her is just another reason we won’t be able to try that kind of thing in a race. She’d get so mad she’d move right into other horses without ever seeing ’em.” He paused. “The only thing we can do, Alec, is to follow your suggestion. Let her take the bit. Then try to keep her behind the pacesetters so she can’t move ahead until you’re ready for her to go all out. As I said before, it’ll take mighty delicate handling. I’m glad you’re goin’ to be up on her. I wouldn’t want to see anyone else try it.”

  Alec said, “It looks as though breezing her is out, too. We’ll have to continue working her as we did today.”

  “I guess so. She’s ready to be set down anyway. It won’t hurt her, if we’re careful not to go at it too often. We’ll continue to do a lot of galloping.”

  In the next day’s newspapers they read the names of the three-year-olds that had been nominated to run in the Kentucky Derby. Henry studied the list carefully, but Alec took only enough time from his farm duties to note that Black Minx’s name was included. He remembered too that more than one hundred colts, geldings and fillies had been nominated for the Derby of the previous year, and that only fourteen had actually gone to the post. How many of these one hundred and thirty-four hopefuls would face the starter this year? Would Black Minx be among them?

  With spring already here, there would be more three-year-olds ready to go, more preparatory races to watch. Would Eclipse and Wintertime come forward to earn their share in the Kentucky Derby spotlight? Within a couple of weeks those two colts could be racing, and both of them would probably encounter Silver Jet and Golden Vanity before the Derby. The spotlight would get smaller and smaller until finally on the first Saturday in May only one colt would be favored by its brilliance. Or maybe there would be a filly instead of a colt in the Derby winner’s circle. Alec didn’t have Lady Lee in mind when he considered this. He was thinking of a black filly who liked to do things her own way.

  THE EXPERIMENTAL HANDICAPS

  12

  By the first week of April, Henry was giving Black Minx speed works of three-quarters of a mile. He began clocking her, too, and although he never told Alec her time, it was obvious that he was pleased. He continued ordering slow gallops around a mile to two miles long, but frequently work days were postponed altogether. Often, too, he had Alec simply walk the filly about the track.

  Alec did only as he was instructed and never queried Henry about the training schedule. He knew his friend was involved with one of the most exacting tasks a trainer could have—that of getting a horse ready to win its first start of the year at a mile or over. The job would have been difficult even with a placid, reliable horse. In that case Henry could have worked out a training schedule beforehand and maintained it. But he couldn’t train Black Minx by the book. Her nervous, fretful temperament caused Henry to change his scheduled workouts regularly. And when he had the filly walk around the track rather than gallop or work fast as planned, Alec knew he was afraid the filly was getting ready too soon and might go stale before her big race.

  Black Minx never blew or sweated profusely, even after her fast works. She had grown and filled out more during the long months Alec had been riding her. Her coat, too—short and glossy black—reflected her present good condition.

  Alec realized that Henry had done a remarkable job in curing Black Minx of her bad stable manners and in making her what she was today. The gamble was whether or not she would hold her condition as her works became longer and faster. And how far could she hold her speed? Alec thought she’d go a mile, but he wasn’t certain about her ability to go a mile and a quarter. The last quarter-mile of the Kentucky Derby called for more than stamina. It called for heart and courage, and the will to win. In these the filly was lacking.

  Henry too must have had his doubts, for late one afternoon Alec found him reading the list of eligibles for the Kentucky Oaks. The Oaks was the “Derby for Fillies,” and was raced the day before the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs. Fifty-six fillies had been nominated by their owners. Lady Lee was on the list. So was Black Minx. In most cases, a filly nominated for the Kentucky Derby was also nominated for the Kentucky Oaks. The reason was simple. Nomination fees were only fifty dollars for each race, payable in February, and the owners had until the first week in May to decide whether to enter their fillies in the Derby or the Oaks.

  Alec knew Henry was asking himself the same question that every owner of a filly mulled over at this time of the year and would continue to do until May.

  Will the colts and the distance be too much for her in the Derby? In the Oaks she’ll be racing against her own sex. The distance will be but a mile and a sixteenth, and much more to her liking. To start her in the Oaks will cost me only two hundred and fifty dollars, but the Derby means shelling out a thousand to start her. Sure, there’s almost a hundred thousand waiting for th
e Derby winner. But maybe she won’t win. There’s close to twenty-five thousand dollars waiting for the filly who wins the Oaks. She’s got a better chance of copping it. Twenty-five thousand dollars can buy a lot of hay. Yeah, I’d better think more about the Oaks and less about the Derby. But not right now. I got a lot of time to make up my mind. And there’s no race like the Derby. I’d sure like to see her in the Derby. Well, if she looks right, maybe … yes, maybe. I’ll let it go at that for now.

  And that was the reason Henry only shrugged his shoulders when Alec asked him if he was considering the Kentucky Oaks for Black Minx instead of the Derby.

  Three more foals were born early the first week in April, and another was due on the fourth. These foals, together with breeding operations being in full swing, kept Alec too busy to think more about the Kentucky Derby or the Kentucky Oaks. But with all his help—Henry, his father and the three hired men—the work went smoothly. He was glad the foals were arriving on schedule. One more was to come soon. Then no others would be due until late May, allowing him time to spend the last week in April and the first in May at Churchill Downs. His father and the hired men would take care of the farm operations during his brief absence.

  Wednesday afternoon Henry restricted Black Minx’s outing on the track to a three-mile walk. Later, in the barn, Alec and Henry discussed the Experimental Handicap to be raced in New York within an hour’s time.

  Henry said, “It’ll be the first race for Eclipse and Wintertime.”

  “How’d they winter?” Alec wanted to know.

  “Good, from all I hear. Wintertime is reported to have done a mile in a minute and forty seconds on the farm track before being shipped to New York. But they say he didn’t grow as much as was expected during the winter. He still stands at a little over fifteen hands. But he’s filled out sidewise and developed more muscle.”

  “And Eclipse?” Alec asked.

  Henry’s eyes lighted. “There’s a colt!” he said.