horse, knowing he must never relax the hold of his legs or he was dead.
Alec felt as if his head were being jerked from his shoulders as the Black whirled on his hind legs. Then the stallion bolted and was on his way again. Alec tightened his legs on the body of live fire beneath him. His bones rattled and he felt the stinging lashes of the Black’s mane against his face. They were like hot wires, searing his face until he felt he could no longer stand the pain. To escape it, he lowered his head farther down on the foamed neck of his horse.
Finally the Black ran straight and true, and Alec’s heart beat high from the challenge he had faced and won, staying on the stallion,
his
stallion, gone wild. His body felt shaken to pieces. He had been frightened but wildly excited. That was the way he had wanted it, and the Black seemed to have known.
Alec felt the magnificent surge of power as the stallion stretched his long legs to their fullest extent. He lowered his hands on the wet, steaming neck and felt the desert wind sweep over him, furlong after furlong, as it might have on a racetrack. But he did not want to think of the racetrack ever again.
There was no sound but the rhythm of racing hoofs over the earth. The Black was running at full speed, all fire over the scorched, parched land. And Alec was one with him again, sharing the stallion’s swiftness and strength as he raised and lowered his body to the racing strides of his horse.
Now that the Black was no longer fighting him, Alec was certain the stallion knew where he was going. His ears were pricked and his wet nostrils blown out. He had scented something. Only once did he stop to change direction, then resume his headlong flight. In another mile he came to a dead stop, head up, eyes surveying the land.
When the Black moved forward again, it was only at a slow gallop. Within a mile, Alec made out a brown pool in the rock outcroppings of the desert floor. It was a waterhole, and it was water that the Black had scented from far away. Only then did Alec realize how thirsty he was and what the water meant to both of them.
The stallion went directly to the pool and, lowering his head, swept away the brown scum that floated on top to reach the clearer water below.
Alec slipped off the stallion’s back, breathing heavily. The wild ride had knocked him about so much that blood was running out of his mouth and nostrils. He fell to his knees, then flat on his stomach in the mud beside the pool. His clothes were torn to shreds. He lay still, in a deep state of exhaustion, his face in the torpid water.
A S I T I S N OW
8
Moments later Alec lifted his head from the water to find the Black standing quietly beside him. The stallion had turned to the east, his ears cocked and wet nostrils blown out. Following his gaze, Alec saw what had attracted his attention. Something was coming from the east, creating a cloud of dust fuming from the earth. The cloud gradually grew larger until, finally, Alec could make out the shadowy figures of a large herd of horses racing toward them!
The Black’s eyes followed the fast-moving herd, his body arched back against stiffened forelegs, his neck defiantly curved. Sweat poured from his body.
Rapidly the horses came closer, spread out in a line across the plateau. Alec recognized them as wild mustangs. Were they coming in from the desert to drink at the waterhole?
The huge herd slowed when they saw the black stallion and sniffed the wind for danger. Finally theyhalted. Alec saw only beauty in their wildness, their suspicions, their unbounded freedom. But, actually, their bodies were raw, rough, scrawny and knob-headed. Alec realized that it was only their dominant will to be free of all restraint that made them appear so beautiful to him.
They moved closer to the waterhole, tossing their heads high with nostrils dilated. The bright sun brought out details of prominent eyes, tapered noses, small bodies and slender legs. They came in all
Alec felt as if his head were being jerked from his shoulders as the Black whirled on his hind legs. Then the stallion bolted and was on his way again. Alec tightened his legs on the body of live fire beneath him. His bones rattled and he felt the stinging lashes of the Black’s mane against his face. They were like hot wires, searing his face until he felt he could no longer stand the pain. To escape it, he lowered his head farther down on the foamed neck of his horse.
Finally the Black ran straight and true, and Alec’s heart beat high from the challenge he had faced and won, staying on the stallion,
his
stallion, gone wild. His body felt shaken to pieces. He had been frightened but wildly excited. That was the way he had wanted it, and the Black seemed to have known.
Alec felt the magnificent surge of power as the stallion stretched his long legs to their fullest extent. He lowered his hands on the wet, steaming neck and felt the desert wind sweep over him, furlong after furlong, as it might have on a racetrack. But he did not want to think of the racetrack ever again.
There was no sound but the rhythm of racing hoofs over the earth. The Black was running at full speed, all fire over the scorched, parched land. And Alec was one with him again, sharing the stallion’s swiftness and strength as he raised and lowered his body to the racing strides of his horse.
Now that the Black was no longer fighting him, Alec was certain the stallion knew where he was going. His ears were pricked and his wet nostrils blown out. He had scented something. Only once did he stop to change direction, then resume his headlong flight. In another mile he came to a dead stop, head up, eyes surveying the land.
When the Black moved forward again, it was only at a slow gallop. Within a mile, Alec made out a brown pool in the rock outcroppings of the desert floor. It was a waterhole, and it was water that the Black had scented from far away. Only then did Alec realize how thirsty he was and what the water meant to both of them.
The stallion went directly to the pool and, lowering his head, swept away the brown scum that floated on top to reach the clearer water below.
Alec slipped off the stallion’s back, breathing heavily. The wild ride had knocked him about so much that blood was running out of his mouth and nostrils. He fell to his knees, then flat on his stomach in the mud beside the pool. His clothes were torn to shreds. He lay still, in a deep state of exhaustion, his face in the torpid water.
A S I T I S N OW
8
Moments later Alec lifted his head from the water to find the Black standing quietly beside him. The stallion had turned to the east, his ears cocked and wet nostrils blown out. Following his gaze, Alec saw what had attracted his attention. Something was coming from the east, creating a cloud of dust fuming from the earth. The cloud gradually grew larger until, finally, Alec could make out the shadowy figures of a large herd of horses racing toward them!
The Black’s eyes followed the fast-moving herd, his body arched back against stiffened forelegs, his neck defiantly curved. Sweat poured from his body.
Rapidly the horses came closer, spread out in a line across the plateau. Alec recognized them as wild mustangs. Were they coming in from the desert to drink at the waterhole?
The huge herd slowed when they saw the black stallion and sniffed the wind for danger. Finally theyhalted. Alec saw only beauty in their wildness, their suspicions, their unbounded freedom. But, actually, their bodies were raw, rough, scrawny and knob-headed. Alec realized that it was only their dominant will to be free of all restraint that made them appear so beautiful to him.
They moved closer to the waterhole, tossing their heads high with nostrils dilated. The bright sun brought out details of prominent eyes, tapered noses, small bodies and slender legs. They came in all
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