Black Stallion and Satan (17 page)

Alec lay back on his pillow again. He’d go to sleep if he could, for there was no sense disturbing Henry’s rest. He had closed his eyes when he first became conscious of the smell of wood smoke in his nostrils. Suddenly remembering the northern fire, he sat straight up in bed. He sniffed again. Henry couldn’t say he was just imagining this! He smelled smoke with every breath he took!

“Henry!” Alec shouted at the top of his voice. He jumped out of bed and began shaking his friend.

Startled, Henry sat upright. “Eh? Uh. W-what’s the matter, Alec?”

“Smoke! Let’s get out of here!”

Henry sniffed quickly, then threw the covers off.

Alec tossed Henry’s pants to him while pulling on his own. “I looked out the window but couldn’t see anything,” Alec said. Their room faced east.

“Might be the smoke from that other fire just coming downwind,” Henry said, pulling on his clothes. “After they’d put it out,” he added quickly.

They were out in the hall when Mr. Ramsay and Tony opened the door of the next room. They had their clothes half on. “You woke us, Alec. Where do you think it’s coming from?”

“We’re goin’ to see,” Henry said, running to the stairs. “You’d better wake up the manager of this place.”

Alec was following Henry down the stairs when the door of Jim Neville’s room opened and the newspaperman shouted after them.

Outside the inn the smell of wood smoke was very distinct. And to the west the somber red of fire lightened the night sky.

“The farm!” Alec shouted shrilly. “It’s right there, Henry!”

“Behind it!” Henry shouted. “Get the keys to your father’s car, Alec!”

The boy was running back toward the steps when Jim Neville came out the door. “We’ll use my car, Alec. C’mon!”

Reaching Jim’s car, all three squeezed into the front seat and the columnist quickly drove away. They sped down the main street, then turned left onto the blacktop road.

When they reached the bridge, Jim Neville said grimly, “The wind is coming from the west, bringing the fire right toward us. The rangers will be able to stop it when it reaches the valley.”

But for Alec there was no solace in Jim’s words. Directly ahead the sky was becoming brighter and in the path of the sweeping wind-driven fire was the state farm. “Faster, Jim!” he shouted. “We’ve got to get there before the fire!”

“Got her down to the floor now,” was all Jim said.

They came off the blacktop road and onto the dirt without slackening speed. They could see the smoke before the fire.… It was moving, waving, drifting all about them.

The woods closed in upon the road and the air became soft and warm as they traveled closer toward the heart of the fire.

“It hasn’t reached the barn yet,” Henry cried. “I’m sure it hasn’t! Hurry up, Jim! We’re going to make it!”

Bouncing, swaying, the car tore down the dirt road, and when they finally came to the left turn leading to the farm, they could actually hear the roar of the fire.

And when they reached the farm they saw it! From the dark pine forest behind the barn came the roar of wind and fire. Flames reached out amid the treetops, grasping, devouring everything in their path.

But the gazes of the three in the car left this blazing line of fire for the barn. Out of the door, one by one, came the horses!

“The vet and his men must be in the barn!” Henry shouted. “They’re driving the horses out of there.”

Phar Fly was the first horse out of the barn and, galloping, he went directly to the open gate leading into the field. Avenger followed him, and closely behind came Cavaliere, Sea King and Kashmir.

“But they can’t get out that way!” Alec yelled as Jim brought the car to a stop. “They’ll be cornered by the fire there!”

Alec was out of the car and running toward the barn when Satan galloped through the doors, his nostrils dilated and snorting in the smoke-filled air. Alec called to him, but the burly colt bolted and followed the others into the field.

“Satan! Satan!” Alec screamed at the top of his voice.

The boy turned back to the barn to find Napoleon coming through the door. Desperately he attempted to head him off, but the old gray swerved away from him to join the others in their run down the long field from which there was no escape.

When Alec stepped inside the barn a heavy bay horse came directly at him and the boy recognized the second test horse. Catching him by the halter, he held him until Henry joined them. “Take him to the road, Henry!” The boy ran into the barn.

The smoke was denser there than outside, and the roar of the fire was almost upon them. He made out the forms of the veterinarian and his men at the Black’s stall. Then the door opened and, screaming, the stallion plunged from his stall and came down the corridor.

Alec flung himself at the Black’s head when the stallion swept by. His fingers found the halter and held it, but there was no slackening of the Black’s stride and Alec was pulled along the floor.

And at that moment the fire reached the barn.

Just outside the door the Black came to an abrupt stop and Alec heard Henry shout, “Let go! I’ve got him. Get to the car! Quick!”

But Alec’s hand remained on the stallion’s halter while he struggled to get to his feet. The veterinarian and his men ran past and, looking back, Alec saw the roof of the barn already engulfed in flames. Behind the barn and as far as he could see everything was a blinding spectacle of white and golden fury, and his eyes blurred as he looked upon it.

Acres of dry forest had been devoured by the flames, and now the strong wind was carrying the line of sweeping fire to the men. The air was alive with tiny particles of fire, and Alec’s face smarted and stung as he hurried along beside the Black toward where Jim Neville was waiting in the car. The veterinarian’s car sped down the road with the men shouting back for them to hurry still faster.

Suddenly the stallion half-reared, simultaneously
whistling his ringing blast of hate and menace. Turning to the field, Alec saw the racers coming in a group around the bend. For a moment he thought they were running for the gate and the road, but then they turned, galloping back down the field at sight of the fire. Frantically Alec called to Satan, but the burly colt moved away with the others.

The Black whistled again, and this time a shrill neigh answered his challenge! It was then that Alec saw Napoleon move away from the upper edges of the field. The gray horse stood still, undecided whether or not to follow the racers.

Shaking his disheveled head, the Black whistled again.

Henry held him firm, trying to pull him toward the road. “Hurry him up, Alec!” he shouted. “We’ve only got a few minutes before the fire reaches the road, then there’s no getting out!”

Alec moved the Black faster, but his eyes remained on Napoleon. Suddenly, around the bend of the field Satan appeared again, running alone! His giant black body moved uncertainly as he swerved abruptly in one direction, then another, seeking escape from the fenced field.

“Satan! Satan!” screamed Alec. If only his colt would go to the gate and if Napoleon would follow him! They still had time before the fire reached the road!

But Satan turned away from the gate once he felt the terrible onslaught of heat. Screaming, he bolted toward Napoleon. And when he swept past the gray, Napoleon whinnied and followed him down the field.

“No! No! No!” Alec cried hysterically.

“My God! Move, Alec. Move! We can’t help them!” Henry was pushing Alec, trying to move the boy and stallion past the car. “Let him go in front of us,” he shouted. “We’ll run the car behind him!”

But the boy turned his head to look once more at the sweeping line of fire racing through the pine tops, sweeping across the grass. The barn was gone, the dry grass before the barn was already afire; in a matter of seconds now the gate would be closed forever to the horses. And then the fire would sweep through the trees surrounding the long and narrow field; the horses would be ringed by flame and driven to their destruction! Was this the horrible fate that was to befall all except the Black? Could he do nothing for them … for Satan, for Napoleon?

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.