It's Thursday.
Chapter 12 : TRAINING BEGINS
Alec’s feet scraped beneath his desk. He fidgeted with the pencil in his hand. The paper in front of him was blank. He couldn’t think about geometry at a time like this. His eyes again went to the clock on the side of the wall—12:15. Another fifteen minutes and he’d be on his way! His gaze shifted to the huge calendar hanging over the blackboard—April first! He had waited so long for that date, and now it was here. Today, after months of preparation, they were to break the Black to bridle and saddle, start the real training of the Black, even though no word had yet reached them from the Middle East concerning the stallion’s pedigree. Henry had written two more letters in the last few months.
Alec saw the teacher looking at him, so his gaze dropped to the paper in front of him. The minutes crept by as slowly as all the months of waiting. He couldn’t stand this much longer—he’d just have to go!
Suddenly the bell rang, and like a sprinter off on his marks, Alec leaped for the door. He had it opened and was out in the corridor before the rest of the class had started to move. He ran down the hall, heard an authoritative voice tell him to stop, but kept running. Nor did he stop when he reached the street. He ran until he was too tired to go farther, then slowed down to a fast walk.
He rushed into the house and threw his books on the couch. His mother had lunch ready. He sat down to eat, but he was too excited. He looked up at his mother. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m not hungry today,” he said. His mother looked at him. She saw the high flush of excitement on his face.
“Something important going on?” she asked.
“Kinda, Mom,” Alec answered as he finished a glass of milk. “I won’t be home until dinner. I’ll make up for my lunch then!” He ran out of the house. His mother stood in the doorway and watched him as he tore down the street.
Alec found Henry nervously pacing up and down in front of the barn. “Hello, Henry!” he called.
“Hello, son,” Henry replied, taking the pipe from his mouth. “Nice warm day for it.” He looked up at the sun high overhead.
Alec saw the stallion out in the field. “How does he feel today?”
“He’s been pretty frisky all morning. Guess the warm weather is making him feel pretty good, too,” answered Henry.
They watched the Black for a few minutes. Then Henry said, “Well, son, we might as well get started. Feel okay?”“Sure. What’s the difference riding the Black with a saddle or without one?”
Henry knocked the ashes from his pipe. “All depends on the horse, but let’s get going. I picked up an old saddle in New York yesterday. It isn’t so good, but it’ll do the trick until we get him on a track and can use mine.” Henry walked toward the barn.
Alec whistled. The Black raised his head and came trotting up to him. “Hello, fella.” Alec put his hand on the stallion’s neck.
The Black shoved his nose into Alec’s side pocket. Alec playfully shoved him away and pulled a couple of lumps of sugar out of his pocket.
“Want some sugar, heh, Boy?”
The stallion swept his long, pink tongue over Alec’s hand and the sugar disappeared.
Henry came toward them carrying the bridle and saddle. “Let’s get over in the middle of the field where you’ll have plenty of room.”
“Okay,” answered Alec. The Black trotted beside Alec. When they came to the center, Henry placed the bridle and saddle on the ground. “We’ll try the saddle first,” he said. “No telling what’s going to happen.”
Alec stood at the Black’s head, a firm grip on the halter. Henry took the saddle in his arms and went around to the left side of the stallion. Alec saw the Black’s eyes turn toward Henry. He sensed something was up and moved uneasily. Alec stroked him and spoke in his ear.
Henry said, “Hold him now, son.”
Alec gripped the halter tighter. Henry raised the saddle over the Black’s back and gently placed it on the stallion. He never got the chance to grasp the cinch. The stallion’s hindquarters rose in the air and the saddle went flying. He turned nervously in a circle, and Alec had his hands full trying to hang on to him. Henry picked up the saddle and once again approached the Black. “This isn’t going to be easy,” he said, between clenched teeth. “Hold him again, Alec!”
Once again Henry placed the saddle on the stallion and once again it went flying in the air. “Doesn’t give me a chance to tighten the cinch,” he said as he picked it up.
Fifteen minutes passed and they still hadn’t succeeded in getting the saddle on the Black. Henry and Alec were both tired. Yet the stallion wasn’t as excited as Alec had expected him to be. “He’s just being contrary,” he told Henry.
The Black wouldn’t leave the saddle on his back long enough for Henry to get the girth straps through the buckles. “If I could only some way get ’em through and tighten that saddle on him!” he said.
Alec thought a minute. “It’s the cinch that bothers him. Let’s lengthen it all the way on my side, then I’ll hold the saddle just above his back while you get the ends of the straps through the buckles. Once I drop the saddle, you tighten. You’ll have to work fast.…”
“Might work,” said Henry.
The Black moved nervously around. “Whoa, Boy,” Alec said. He lowered the saddle as close to the stallion’s back as possible, so Henry could get the straps into the buckles.
“All set, Henry?” Alec asked.
“Just a second,” came the answer.
The Black was looking toward the far end of the field. Henry said in a low voice, “Okay, now.”
Quickly Alec placed the saddle on the Black’s back. The stallion reared. Alec jumped to one side. Henry was dangerously close to the Black, his hands feverishly pulling the straps through the buckles. Alec saw him give a final tug, then he flung himself out of the way of the Black’s pawing hoofs. “Got it,” he shouted. “Get out of his way!”
The stallion reared again and then raced down the field, swerving and throwing his hind legs in the air. He tried desperately to get rid of the saddle. Alec and Henry watched him as he plunged around the field. Suddenly the Black reared high on his legs and then fell over backward. They heard the saddle break.
“There it goes,” said Alec.
“If he doesn’t get it off, it’ll be worth it!” answered Henry.
The Black finally climbed to his feet. The saddle was torn and broken, but still on his back. Again the stallion raced up the field, his excited eyes shifting from one side to the other. As he neared them, Alec whistled. The stallion swept past them. Alec whistled again. Suddenly the Black stopped, half-reared and turned. His ears pricked forward and he stood still for a few seconds. Then he was off again down the field, swerving and kicking.
“It’s a good thing you were able to get that cinch tight, Henry!”
“Yeah,” answered Henry, his eyes still following the Black.
Alec whistled again when the stallion came up the field. The Black stopped about thirty feet from them. Alec cautiously walked toward him.
“What’s the matter, fella? Frightened of that saddle on your back?”
The stallion turned and Alec thought he was going to run down the field again. Instead he circled and then stood still. Alec put his hand in his pocket and drew out some sugar. He held it out toward the Black. “Here, Boy.” Slowly he walked up to him and gave him the sugar. He stroked the long, sleek neck. “You’ll get used to it, fella.” He saw that the saddle was pretty well damaged but still usable.
“Walk him around a few minutes, Alec,” Henry shouted.
Alec took the Black by the lead rope and started down the field. The stallion stepped lightly along, every once in a while throwing his hind legs in the air. Ten minutes later Alec led him back to Henry. “He isn’t so bad now,” he said.
“Hop on him then, and let’s see what happens.”“Okay,” answered Alec, moving toward the left side of the stallion.
Henry gave the boy a boost and he landed in the saddle. A fraction of a second later he found himself flying through the air. The ground rushed up at him. Alec managed to draw his feet up under him and break his fall. He lay still a moment, his body aching. Henry rushed over and knelt down beside him. “Hurt, son?” he asked anxiously.
“Guess not, Henry. Just a little jarred.”
Henry ran his fingers over Alec’s legs. “Try getting to your feet,” he said. Alec pulled himself up. He was unsteady for a moment, and then his head began to clear. He saw the Black a few feet away. The stallion looked at him and then came forward. He pushed his nose into Alec’s side pocket. “Seems just like old times on the island,” Alec said. He turned to Henry. “Why does he throw me just because he has a saddle on his back?”
“Guess it’s just one of those things, Alec. You never know how a horse like this is going to act,” Henry answered. “He isn’t used to the saddle yet, and I don’t think he really knew you were on his back; all he could feel was that extra weight. Now this time talk to him like you always have before, let him know you’re getting on—guess we sort of sneaked up on him then. Let him feel your arms and legs.”
“Okay, Henry.” Alec once again went to the Black’s left side.
“Sure you feel all right?” Henry asked. “Want to wait a few minutes?”
“No,” replied Alec. He looked at the stallion and held the halter with his two hands. “Now listen, fella, take it easy!” The stallion shook his head, almost taking Alec off his feet.
Alec kept talking into the Black’s ear, and his hand ran up and down the stallion’s neck. Then he was in the saddle! The Black reared, but this time Alec was prepared. Up he went with the stallion high into the air, both hands grasping the Black’s mane. The stallion came down and bolted across the field. Alec leaned forward and kept talking to him. The stallion’s speed didn’t slacken, and Alec thought he was in for another ride like the one on the island. Suddenly he found that he was able to guide the stallion—he had control of him. He turned him away from the fence and up the field again. They swept past Henry, and Alec shouted, “Okay!” The stallion didn’t have room enough to run as fast as he wanted to, and after a short while, Alec managed to slow him down and bring him to a stop near Henry.
“Nice going, Alec,” Henry said, gripping the Black’s halter. “We’ll put the bridle on him right away.”
“But don’t you think he’s kind of tired, Henry?”
“That’s one of the reasons why I want to do it now,” Henry answered. “Besides, I don’t think he’s going to mind this as much as the saddle; it has a very light racing bit, and isn’t much more than the halter he’s got on now.”
“You’re the boss, Henry,” Alec said. “How’ll we do it?”
“You stay right on his back. I’ll get the bit in his mouth, and then you can draw the bridle right over his head.”
“Okay,” Alec said, as Henry moved in front of the Black.
Henry’s experienced hands had the bit in the Black’s mouth within a few minutes. Alec quickly drew the bridle over the stallion’s head. The Black shook his head and moved uneasily around in a circle. Alec let him alone. For fifteen minutes he let the Black get used to the bit, then he guided him down the field. Carefully, and in much the same manner as he had done back on the island, Alec taught the Black to turn right and left by a slight touch of the rein. There wasn’t much difference between Alec’s old way and the use of the reins, and the Black caught on quickly.
Alec rode back to Henry and dismounted. Henry smiled. “That, Alec,” he said, “is what I call a good day’s work.”
“Sure is, Henry.” Alec rubbed the Black’s nose. “Nice going, Boy,” he said proudly.
The sun was sinking behind Manhattan’s skyscrapers in the distance as the man, the boy and the horse made their way back toward the barn.