The Black Stallion's Ghost by Walter Farley Page A

the animals were as beautiful as Pegasus. Some were so horrible that men would die in terror at the very sight of them.”
    The captain’s voice was solemn but Alec could not take him seriously. It was part of an act, put on for his benefit, he decided. He laughed and said, “They were fairy tales, Captain, told since the beginning of time.People don’t believe in them any more, not in this day and age.”
    â€œThat’s part of the trouble,” the captain said.
    Alec believed him to mean that for this reason there was no place for a horse with simulated wings in the circus ring.
    The captain added, “However, it is possible that some legendary creatures were based on animals which did actually
exist
.”
    â€œI can believe that,” Alec said. “The fierce dragon was the result of prehistoric man finding fossils of dinosaurs or any of the other reptilian monsters.”
    â€œBut what of the
supernatural
animals?” the captain asked quietly. “What of the
gryphon
, half eagle and half lion? And the
hippogriff
, who had the body of a horse, the wings and beak of an eagle, and the claws of a lion? Medieval writers had no doubt that such animals existed.”
    â€œPurely imaginary,” Alec answered, “no different from the centaur—half man and half horse—and all the other creatures of fable created by the ancients.”
    â€œPerhaps so,” the captain said, picking up another old print and passing it on to Alec.
    It showed a man in a circus ring, dressed as the devil and driving what must have been at least twenty horses while standing on the backs of the two in the rear.
    â€œAnother imaginary figure,” Alec said, pointing to the devil-clad man. “But it’s quite a feat, driving that many horses. I wonder if he actually did it.”
    â€œHe did,” the captain said. “My great-grandfather saw him perform in the Paris Hippodrome in 1860.”
    There were hundreds of prints in the bulging folder, all of performing horses and some going as far back as the Circus Maximus at the time of Christ. To anyone it would have been a fascinating and valuable collection; for Alec, a serious horseman, it was the like of which he had never hoped to see. And with the captain explaining the techniques of the training involved, the hours passed without his being aware of it.
    The long rumble of thunder interrupted his concentration on the old prints and made him conscious of the time. He glanced at his watch and rose quickly to his feet. “I had no idea it was so late,” he said. “It’s after four and I must be going. Thanks for lunch and everything.” He glanced at the prints. “Maybe I can come back?” He put it as a question, sensing that the captain preferred solitude to the company of another person. In a way they were very much alike, disdaining the company of other men for that of their horses.
    Yet, Alec thought, how strange it was that he wanted to return when he had been so alarmed before. He looked into the captain’s dark, unblinking eyes as the man rose to join him.
    â€œYou are welcome any time,” the captain said, “but I had hoped you would stay even longer.”
    The rays of the sun were still streaming through the small windows, but there was another clap of thunder in the distance.
    â€œI don’t want to get caught in a storm,” Alec said. “I’ll get back late as it is. They’ll be worrying about me.”
    Alec opened the door and the heat outside wasscorching. To the south, just above the saw-grass spears, a heavy blanket of clouds shone in a bizarre light.
    â€œI doubt it will rain, as much as we need it,” the captain said, following Alec down the steps. “Perhaps some wind and heat lightning but no rain certainly. I feel none in the air.”
    Alec shrugged his shoulders. “The lightning will be quite bad enough,” he said. “I don’t