Alec to handle? And what
would
his mother and father say when they saw him? He had thought of a place to keep him. Two blocks from their house in Flushing was an old run-down estate. The large, brown house was now being used to accommodate tourists. But in the rear was an old barn, badly in need of repair, and an acre of ground. It would be an ideal place to stable the Black. If only his parents wouldlet him keep the stallion, he would fix up the barn himself, and find work after school to pay for his feed.
Alec finished his work, and the Black turned his head. “Had a pretty tough day, haven’t you, fella?” The stallion shook his head, and shoved his nose against the boy’s chest, pushing him back against the wall. Alec laughed and picked up the pail and cloths.
He shut the door of the stall behind him. The stallion’s nostrils quivered; his eyes followed Alec as he backed slowly away. “Take it easy now, Boy,” he said. “I have to see what my own bunk looks like!”
The Black screamed as Alec began to climb the stairs. There was a loud crash as the stallion’s hoofs went through the side of the stall. Alec rushed back. “Easy, Boy,” he said. “Easy.” The Black shoved his nose toward him, and he placed his hand upon the tender skin.
Grooms from the other stalls came running toward them. “Everything all right?” one asked.
“Yes,” answered Alec. “He’s still excited.”
“He’s a mean one, he is! You’ll have to watch him!”
“He just doesn’t like to be left alone,” said Alec, “so I guess I’ll stick around.”
The grooms went back to their jobs. Alec looked at the stallion. “Black,” he said, “you’re something!” He went around to the side of the stall and pushed the broken board back into place. He looked around the hold, and noticed that the grooms had opened cots and were placing them beside the stalls. Alec found one and did the same. “Looks as though I’m going to bunk down here whether I like it or not,” he said.
Alec tossed on his cot that night, as the ship plowed through heavy, pitching seas. Every wave seemed destined to send him rolling off his bed. The horses were finding it difficult, too, and their poundings made the hold a bedlam. Alec could hear the Black pawing at the floor of his stall.
It was still rough the next morning, and continued to be rough throughout the day. The horses began to get sick and the grooms were kept busy. Only the Black remained well. He still held his head as high as ever, and moved gingerly about in his stall.
Night fell and the ocean became wilder. Bolts of lightning flashed in the sky and a gale whistled outside. Alec thought of the
Drake
and the storm that had sent it down to the bottom. He rose from his cot and went to the stall door. The Black was awake, and pushed his nose toward the boy.
“Not frightened, are you, fella?” A streak of lightning made the hold as bright as day, and there was a loud crack as it struck the water. The ship quivered. Alec’s fingers tightened on the Black’s mane. Again darkness, and the ship lurched forward. The engines throbbed and once more took up their steady chant.
The Black’s eyes were moving about restlessly. He shook his head and his foreleg pawed into the bedding of the stall. Alec couldn’t blame him for being frightened. He reached in his pocket for some sugar and held it out to the stallion. The Black moved away and pounded harder than ever.
The ship staggered as a wave crashed against it. The grooms were rising from their cots, awakened bythe storm. The other horses were quiet—most of them too sick to cause any trouble. Alec was afraid the Black would get out of control. He opened the door and went inside. The stallion backed into a corner. Alec held out the sugar. “Easy, Boy,” he said. The Black’s head was high in the air. He stopped his pounding as Alec put a hand on his neck. He reached down for the sugar. “That’s a good fella!” said Alec. Slowly
would
his mother and father say when they saw him? He had thought of a place to keep him. Two blocks from their house in Flushing was an old run-down estate. The large, brown house was now being used to accommodate tourists. But in the rear was an old barn, badly in need of repair, and an acre of ground. It would be an ideal place to stable the Black. If only his parents wouldlet him keep the stallion, he would fix up the barn himself, and find work after school to pay for his feed.
Alec finished his work, and the Black turned his head. “Had a pretty tough day, haven’t you, fella?” The stallion shook his head, and shoved his nose against the boy’s chest, pushing him back against the wall. Alec laughed and picked up the pail and cloths.
He shut the door of the stall behind him. The stallion’s nostrils quivered; his eyes followed Alec as he backed slowly away. “Take it easy now, Boy,” he said. “I have to see what my own bunk looks like!”
The Black screamed as Alec began to climb the stairs. There was a loud crash as the stallion’s hoofs went through the side of the stall. Alec rushed back. “Easy, Boy,” he said. “Easy.” The Black shoved his nose toward him, and he placed his hand upon the tender skin.
Grooms from the other stalls came running toward them. “Everything all right?” one asked.
“Yes,” answered Alec. “He’s still excited.”
“He’s a mean one, he is! You’ll have to watch him!”
“He just doesn’t like to be left alone,” said Alec, “so I guess I’ll stick around.”
The grooms went back to their jobs. Alec looked at the stallion. “Black,” he said, “you’re something!” He went around to the side of the stall and pushed the broken board back into place. He looked around the hold, and noticed that the grooms had opened cots and were placing them beside the stalls. Alec found one and did the same. “Looks as though I’m going to bunk down here whether I like it or not,” he said.
Alec tossed on his cot that night, as the ship plowed through heavy, pitching seas. Every wave seemed destined to send him rolling off his bed. The horses were finding it difficult, too, and their poundings made the hold a bedlam. Alec could hear the Black pawing at the floor of his stall.
It was still rough the next morning, and continued to be rough throughout the day. The horses began to get sick and the grooms were kept busy. Only the Black remained well. He still held his head as high as ever, and moved gingerly about in his stall.
Night fell and the ocean became wilder. Bolts of lightning flashed in the sky and a gale whistled outside. Alec thought of the
Drake
and the storm that had sent it down to the bottom. He rose from his cot and went to the stall door. The Black was awake, and pushed his nose toward the boy.
“Not frightened, are you, fella?” A streak of lightning made the hold as bright as day, and there was a loud crack as it struck the water. The ship quivered. Alec’s fingers tightened on the Black’s mane. Again darkness, and the ship lurched forward. The engines throbbed and once more took up their steady chant.
The Black’s eyes were moving about restlessly. He shook his head and his foreleg pawed into the bedding of the stall. Alec couldn’t blame him for being frightened. He reached in his pocket for some sugar and held it out to the stallion. The Black moved away and pounded harder than ever.
The ship staggered as a wave crashed against it. The grooms were rising from their cots, awakened bythe storm. The other horses were quiet—most of them too sick to cause any trouble. Alec was afraid the Black would get out of control. He opened the door and went inside. The stallion backed into a corner. Alec held out the sugar. “Easy, Boy,” he said. The Black’s head was high in the air. He stopped his pounding as Alec put a hand on his neck. He reached down for the sugar. “That’s a good fella!” said Alec. Slowly