Suddenly, the Black uttered another terrifying blast. Alec saw Napoleon standing alone at the curve in the field. But the gray came no closer. Now there was no need; he couldn’t reach the gate before the fire. There was no way out.
“Let the Black go now, Alec!” Henry yelled simultaneously with Jim Neville’s shout of warning from the car. But the boy still held on to the Black’s halter while Henry attempted to pull him away. “We can’t do anything for the others, Alec! We can’t! We can’t!”
As though in added emphasis to Henry’s shrill cries, the treetops beside the road bent low before the flames, sparks needling the air like thousands upon thousands of fireflies. The raging inferno was reaching out for them in great and terrible leaps.
Jim Neville had the car moving behind them while Henry continued to tear furiously at Alec’s hands to make him let go of the Black. Screaming, the stallion rose, pulling Alec away from Henry. The boy held on, turning him to the side of the road. Desperately, Henry reached out, then cried, “Alec! Alec!” … for the boy had turned the stallion all the way around. He was running beside the stallion, he was flinging himself on his horse. Alec was going back.
Henry ran after him, tripped on the bumper of the car and fell to the ground. When he recovered his feet, Jim Neville had him by the arm, pulling him toward the car. The columnist was shouting to Henry, but his words were lost in the tumult of the fire. The air about them was aflame when Henry found himself inside the car. He tried to open the door, but Jim Neville held him and pressed his foot hard on the accelerator. When Henry broke Jim’s grasp, he looked back to find the fire already across the road. He slumped limply in his seat, his large hands covering his face.
Alec hid his head in the Black’s mane to avoid the flying sparks and heat as he went back. He held the stallion to the road only long enough for the Black to quicken his strides, then he turned him to the fence. The stallion never challenged Alec’s guiding hand; he saw the fence and his strides lengthened. It was high, but the boy knew his horse could jump it. He touched the Black, then let him alone. There was a gathering of mighty muscles, then a sudden lurch and Alec moved his body forward with the stallion.
The Black came down lightly on the other side of the fence and was again in full stride before Alec moved his head back from the straining neck. They were in the field with the fire behind them! There remained a way out for the horses, but the Black would have to beat the flames! Alec saw Napoleon standing at the bend in the field, but he turned the stallion away from the gray, taking him closer to the edges of the field. For it was here, somewhere, that he had seen the vine-covered gate and the forest lane beyond. It was this he had so suddenly remembered when he had thought there was no escape for the trapped horses. It was the hidden gate that had brought him back.
Just before the bend he reached it and brought the Black hard against the wooden bars. They held in spite of the stallion’s weight and Alec reached down, taking precious seconds to pull the bars loose from the posts and clinging vines and let them fall heavily to the ground. He saw the lane beyond while he turned the Black away from it. Now he wished he knew whether it went to the valley, to the road or to the feared dead end. How he regretted never having walked down it, just once, during all his time spent at the farm. For their lives, his and the horses’, now depended on what was at the end of this forest lane.
Napoleon neighed wildly when he saw the Black approaching. But the gray stood still before the heat of the fire and let the stallion come to him. Pulling up beside Napoleon, Alec grabbed his halter and moved him toward the gate. The gray fought Alec as the heat became more intense; the woods on either side of the field were afire as was the dry grass only a few hundred yards above the gate.
Alec held Napoleon until they reached the gate, then he let him go, slapping him hard on his haunches. But there was no need to urge the gray to greater speed, for now he saw the open lane before him and, plunging forward, he galloped down it.
The Black wanted to follow Napoleon, and for a second Alec hesitated. Already the forest lane ahead was alive with pinpoints of light that preceded the flames. Behind him, ever louder, came the terrible roar of fire and wind. He didn’t turn to look at it again. His ears told him of its nearness. A few minutes more and this lane, too, would be closed by fire. Would he have time?
He was whirling the Black away from the gate even as he asked himself this question. For Satan was with the others. And Satan was his colt. He wouldn’t … couldn’t … leave him behind.
Alec goaded the Black to greater speed in the run for the bend in the field. As the stallion rounded it his strides lengthened, and Alec knew there was no need to urge the Black to go faster now. For the stallion had seen Satan as the burly colt moved across the end of the field to a far corner. Running before Satan were the others, terrified and bolting in short, frantic bursts of speed, first in one direction, then another, seeking escape and not finding it.
In full gallop, the Black uttered his shrill, piercing challenge. It was filled with hate and defiance, and Alec knew that temporarily the great stallion had forgotten the fire at sight of the stallions. Urging him on, Alec pulled the maddened horse toward Satan in the far corner, for his plan was to drive them along the fence up to the open gate.
Even here, several hundred yards before the fire, the air was hot and it stung his face and eyes. He wanted to close his eyes but couldn’t … for now the Black was rapidly bearing down upon Satan, and his one intent was to kill.
A few strides away from Satan, Alec sat upright, waving his arm and shouting at the top of his voice. For a fraction of a second Satan stood still, undecided, then he broke, running behind the others along the fence.
Swerving, the Black went after him, but Alec pulled him toward Cavaliere, who was trying to break away from the group. The Black screamed and turned upon the brown stallion. Alec felt the fury within the great black body, yet he would have done nothing to quell it had he been able to do so. For it was only the Black’s hatred for the other stallions and their fear of him that would make it possible to drive them back toward the gate.
The racers broke their tight group when they felt the increasing heat of the fire. They bolted away from the fence and Alec turned the stallion after them. Avenger broke farthest away and Alec headed him off, turning him up the field.
The Black swerved sharply in his desire to reach Avenger, and Alec lost his balance; his hands grabbed frantically at the long mane, holding on to it while he regained his seat. He knew that he never would have caught the Black again had he fallen off.
The racers were running along the fence once more, and Alec kept the Black a little behind and outside the group. The air was becoming too hot to breathe. His throat was tight; he couldn’t swallow. The roar of the fire became so great that even the thunderous hoofs racing across the ground could not be heard.
The Black screamed. It was not a scream of haughty defiance and challenge now, but of terror and fright.
They were very close to the gate when Alec saw the burning grass before it … a short line of fire that had been ignited by the flying sparks. They would have to cross it to reach the lane!
The racers swerved away to the left, but Alec drove the Black into them. Screaming, the Black forgot his terror of the fire with the impact of heavy bodies. For a few seconds there was an onslaught of thrashing hoofs and raking teeth as the frantic stallions fought one another to get away.
Alec continued pulling the Black’s head, directing his attention from one stallion to another. Suddenly Alec saw Sea King’s gray body bolt from the group and with a quick jump clear the line of fire. Avenger followed Sea King, and, goading the Black, Alec drove the stallion back against the others. Phar Fly saw Avenger go through the open gate and with a sudden burst of speed he, too, jumped the fire. Cavaliere and Kashmir were next to follow, leaving Satan alone to meet the Black’s furious attacks.
Satan rose high on his hindlegs and the Black went up to meet him. Alec felt
the terrible impact of heavy bodies as they met. He was losing his seat when the stallions came down. The Black was moving forward again to renew the fight when suddenly Satan whirled and, leaping over the burning grass, went through the open gate.
Screaming in fury, the Black followed him.
The cry of hope which Alec uttered as soon as the Black followed Satan down the lane came to an abrupt end. For ahead he saw that the tops of the trees were already aflame! The lane below was still clear, but it would be only a matter of seconds before it, too, became an inferno.
Satan was running with giant strides in his effort to overtake the other racers more than a hundred yards ahead. All were running wild, their hate and fear of the Black gone with the flames that swept above them.
The ground all about Alec was being engulfed by lashing, leaping flames. And their roar was so great that the boy heard nothing … only silence. It was unreal. It was a dream … a nightmare. Even the horses ahead were but ghostly apparitions, phantoms floating through the dim, murky veil of heat.
Yet beneath him worked the tremendous muscles of the Black as the stallion reached out with great strides and extended head. So he knew this had to be real … this race with fire.
Snorting, the Black stretched out, but he did not gain any ground on Satan. Alec did not goad him to greater speed, knowing full well that the giant stallion had not reached his limit and would rise to it when it suited him.
They were racing the fire … not Satan or Phar Fly, Sea King, Avenger, Cavaliere or Kashmir. That the Black should keep ahead of the flames was all that mattered. Fate had decided that this was the time and the place for the great race.… Yet Fate had willed, too, that their swiftest opponent would be an added starter … this wind-driven, all-engulfing fire. And upon the speed of the horses depended their very lives!
Suddenly a deafening roar exploded directly overhead. Flaming tongues and spires dropped all about them. The stallion leaped forward in terror and Alec glanced back to see the white, seething flames swallowing the lane directly behind them and coming forward with inconceivable swiftness.
Terrified, the Black was reaching his utmost speed. No longer was he running Satan down to kill him; hate and menace for the others were gone, leaving only frenzied fear of the flames which sought to devour his straining body.
Racing the wind that drove the fire upon them, the Black followed closely behind Satan as the burly colt bore down upon the others. Together they were out-racing wind and fire and overhauling the fastest racers in the world!
But suddenly the lane swept sharply to the left, almost doubling back, retreating into the path of the fire! Alec heard the agonized screams of the horses in front as the heat and flames burst upon them. The air was filled with flaming pine cones and branches, searing and burning as they struck glistening bodies.
The Black screamed and his strides slowed before the inferno ahead. But there was no turning back and he followed Satan.
Paralyzed with fear, Alec watched the racers ahead. For as long as they kept going the lane was still clear. If they stopped it meant the end for all.
Abruptly the lane turned again and Alec shouted hysterically when he saw the horses move away from the path of the fire. The Black followed Satan around the turn and ahead the lane was clear once more except for the canopy of leaping flames above. To their left Alec saw the dirt road, running parallel with the lane but inaccessible because of the trees. He knew the valley couldn’t be more than a half-mile away now!
The Black screamed again as a burning pine cone struck his rump, and he surged forward at greater speed. A few strides ahead, Satan had caught Cavaliere and was passing him. The Black drew alongside and for a second the brown stallion kept up with him, then fell behind.
Satan was bunched with Kashmir, Sea King and Phar Fly, with Avenger running a length ahead, his small body leveled out, almost touching the ground.
Alec looked behind to see the flames bright behind Cavaliere; then he turned ahead again.
The Black drew closer and closer to the small group, and just as he moved upon them Satan pulled ahead, moving on toward Avenger. Straining bodies rose and fell beside Alec as the Black moved past them, following Satan.
Suddenly the Black uttered a terrifying blast and Alec felt the stallion gather himself. His giant strides came faster. He passed Avenger, then moved up on the burly colt.
It was then that Satan screamed, too, and for a moment Alec thought the colt was going to turn upon the Black. But instead he leveled out still more, keeping ahead of the stallion. Stride for stride they thundered, straining for every bit of speed within their great bodies.
Then Alec, too, let out a cry, for ahead he saw the break in the forest and the rolling, open fields of the valley! They had beaten the fire, outraced the wind! He turned back once more to the racers. They would make it … all of them! Cavaliere was closest to the flames, but the fire wouldn’t catch him. They had only a hundred yards to go!
A hundred yards.
Alec turned to the open fields ahead, then to Satan’s heaving body beside him. Neck for neck, the Black and his colt were racing. Bending low, Alec pressed his head close to the Black.
Both horses screamed again as their nostrils caught the clear air of the valley. Satan’s ears were back and flat against his head as he pushed his nose in front of the Black. But then, in one mighty surge, the stallion began moving ahead. Inch by inch he moved past Satan until the colt’s extended head fell back to the stallion’s hindquarters. And the Black was more than a length in front of Satan when they broke from the forest and hurtled down the slope to the safety of the valley floor.
HOPEFUL FARM
18
Henry’s gnarled hands were clasped firmly about the wheel as he kept the van close behind Mr. Ramsay’s car. He sat heavily in his seat with his round bull head slouched down between hunched shoulders. During the six hours they had been on the road he had talked little to Alec, yet very frequently he had looked at him, carefully studying the boy’s face before turning back to the road. Alec’s eyebrows and lashes had been singed close and his hair cropped even shorter by the fire; his face showed several red blotches where sparks had struck. But only his hands had required attention and they had been bandaged by the doctor.
If the boy was conscious of Henry’s continued scrutiny, he did not disclose it. Most of the time he had his head out the van window, always answering Tony’s waving hand from the car ahead and turning to the rear to watch the van carrying Satan.
“Just a few more miles now,” Alec said excitedly when they turned off the main highway, following Mr. Ramsay’s car up a steep hill.
“Yep,” Henry said, shifting into low gear. Once more he turned to look at the boy, and this time he said, “You’re sure you don’t want to tell me any more about the fire, Alec?”
Shifting uneasily in his seat, the boy asked, “What more is there to tell, Henry? I found the lane and thank God it led to the valley. Satan and the Black are with us.… We’re going home.”
Henry glanced into the rear-view mirror before saying quietly, “Sure, I know, Alec. And that’s all that matters. But …” He paused, undecided, then continued, “Well, it’s just that I caught a glimpse of you during the fire. That was when you neared the road. We were up ahead an’ I couldn’t see much before the forest closed in on you again. All that mattered then was that you and the horses were out in front of the fire. It’s still all that matters,” he corrected himself hastily. “But while we’ve been driving I got to thinkin’ that maybe the International Cup race took place after all.” Henry paused. “I guess you’re the only one who could answer that,” he concluded without taking his eyes from the road.
Alec was silent while behind him the Black struck the side of the van and Napoleon whinnied.
“ ’Course you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Henry said slowly.
Turning to the small window in the back of the cab, Alec reached through to put a band
aged hand on the stallion’s muzzle. “What do you want to know, Henry?” he asked.
His friend turned to him, and Alec saw the tiny pinpoints of light in Henry’s gray eyes.
“Satan was behind the others when I saw you. Did he catch any of them, Alec?”
“He did, Henry.”
“Then you think he could’ve beaten them in a race. Is that right, Alec?”
“He did beat them, Henry,” Alec returned quietly.
“Y’mean he made up the whole distance?” Alec nodded.
“I knew he could do it,” the trainer said proudly. “I just knew he could! But then his face sobered and thoughtfully he turned to the rear-view mirror to glance at the van carrying Satan.
Watching him, Alec knew what Henry was thinking. Had the Black gone up with Satan? Had the Black possibly beaten him? The boy understood Henry’s glory and pride in the burly colt he had grown to love. And now the fear of defeat was very evident in the old trainer’s face.
It was a long while before Henry asked hesitantly, “Was the Black able to catch ’em, too?” His face was tight-lipped, intense.
“Yes, he did,” Alec returned slowly.
After a long pause, Henry said, “It was a lot to ask of him, carrying your weight.” The trainer turned again to the rear-view mirror and his heavy jowls worked convulsively as he added huskily, “Too much of a handicap to expect him to catch Satan as well.” He turned to the boy. “Not a colt like Satan.”
Alec raised his eyes quickly to meet Henry’s gaze. Without hesitation he said, “No, Henry … you couldn’t expect that of him.”
Henry’s heavy jowls relaxed; his tight lips parted in a smile. “We’ve got the finest horses in the world, Alec,” he said almost in awe. “They don’t come any greater than those two. We know that now.”