Son of the Black Stallion by Walter Farley
Alec saw Lenny Sansone go up to the bay and affectionately place his hand on the colt’s head. “What’s the bay’s name?” Alec asked Henry.
“The Chief,” Henry replied. “He has good breedin’, but I don’t expect he’ll be able to match Satan’s speed or come close to Boldt’s Comet,” he added.
A tall, heavy-set man, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a battered hat, came around the corner toward them. “Here’s Mike,” Henry said, opening the door of the van.
Henry introduced Alec to Mike; then the three walked over to the bay colt. “The Chief is coming along fast,” Mike told Henry. “I want to blow him out a good stiff quarter this morning. That all right for your horse?”
Henry glanced in Alec’s direction, then nodded.
Mike turned to Lenny Sansone, who stood beside him. “If he plays along, when he’s out in front, fan your stick at him, Len. He’ll move along then.”
Lenny nodded, and then his gaze turned to Alec.
Henry said, “Oh, yeah, Len … I want you to meet Alec Ramsay. Alec, meet Len.”
Alec liked the jockey’s eyes and his firm grasp as they shook hands. It was hard to tell Lenny’s age, but Alec judged him to be in his thirties.
“I saw you ride the Black in Chicago,” Lenny said. “It was good riding on that horse, Alec.”
Then Mike said, “Let’s get going. It’s getting hot fast today. Bring your horse out, Henry.”
As Alec led Satan from the van, he felt the eyes of the others upon them, but his gaze never left the black colt. Satan was fretting, working himself up, and Alec talked soothingly to him. Then he heard Mike exclaim, “He’s a giant, Henry! Where’d you get him? What’s his breeding?”
“He belongs to Alec … or rather his father,” Alec heard Henry reply.
“And sired by the Black,” Lenny Sansone said. “You don’t have to tell me that.… He’s more burly, but him, anyway.”
Mike’s voice was excited as he asked, “Does he have the Black’s speed, Henry?”
Alec didn’t hear Henry’s reply, for Satan, his eyes upon the Chief, uttered his piercing challenge.
The bay shot up his ears at Satan’s whistle, and moved restlessly beneath Lenny’s hand.
Satan made a single effort to jump, which Alec prevented, and then the black colt stood still, his wild eyes shifting from the Chief to Alec, and back again. “He doesn’t want to fight, Satan. Take it easy,” the boy said.
When Henry came over and saddled Satan, the colt stood quivering beneath his touch.
“It’s not as bad as I thought it might be,” Henry said, slipping the bridle over Satan’s head, “… not yet, anyway.”
“He’s going to be all right, Henry,” Alec replied confidently. “I can feel it. He’s excited, but he has a right to be.… This is all so strange to him. But I’ll be able to control him, as long as the Chief doesn’t want to fight.”
“He won’t,” Henry muttered. “The bay is a good-tempered colt.”
“How about on the track?” Alec asked anxiously.
“With the other horses, y’mean? I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how he acts up,” Henry answered.
Lenny Sansone was already up on the Chief when Alec mounted Satan. The black colt crabstepped as Henry took him by the bridle, his eyes now upon Henry instead of the Chief. Alec talked to him and, slowly, he felt Satan quiet down beneath his knees.
Mike led his bay colt toward the track, and Henry, leading Satan, followed.
The black colt showed no outward signs of tension as they moved onto the track, but Alec dug his fingernails deep into the palms of his hands to keep them from shaking. He knew how important this workout was. If he could control Satan with strange horses on the track, they would be well on their way to the Hopeful. But if the colt went berserk, giving way to his savage nature to fight other young stallions, he might never race.
Two horses swept by, running hard on the rail, their hoofs pounding over the track. Satan’s ears pitched forward and he uttered a short whistle. He was beginning to feel the tension now, and Alec whispered, “Easy, boy. Easy.”
Henry, still holding the bridle, looked up at him. “You set, Alec?”
The boy nodded.
“Jog him around the track once along with the Chief,” Henry instructed. “Keep away from the rail so the horses that are breezing can get by. Then if everything goes well we’ll gallop him easy for a half, an’ then blow him out the last quarter with the Chief.”
“You mean give him his head?” Alec asked.
Henry nodded and a flicker of a smile was upon his lips. “You’ve waited a long time, Alec, an’ here it is,” he said quietly.
Satan moved restlessly, his head craned high, watching the horses on the track. His heavy ears were up, and his black forelock had fallen over the white diamond.
Patting the high crest of his neck, Alec repeated, “Easy, boy.”
Henry nodded toward the men who leaned upon the rail in front of the huge, empty grandstand. “They’ve seen Satan,” he said. “Look at them stare. They’ve never seen a colt as big as this one. An’ they’ll be watchin’ him, Alec, wonderin’ if he’s got the speed to go with that body.”
“They’ll see,” Alec promised. “They’ll see.”
Henry stepped back. As Satan jogged away, Alec stood high in his stirrups, holding him back. The colt shook his head, pulling for more rein, but Alec held it tight, talking to him all the while. Reaching out, Satan lengthened his stride, and Alec knew he wanted to catch up to the Chief, who jogged a short distance ahead.
“Easy, Satan. Easy,” Alec whispered. “It’s early yet.”
Three horses breezed quickly past them, and Satan’s muscles rippled as he bolted after them. Still standing in his stirrups, Alec kept a tight rein. “Easy, boy. Lots of time for that. Easy, Satan,” he whispered.
One ear cocked back as the colt listened; then he slowed to a jog again.
Alec stroked Satan’s neck. “You’re ready, boy. I knew you’d be. You’re not going to fight. You’re going to run … and you’ll run with the best of them. You’re a champ, Satan, but you’ll go easy today. For one quarter I’ll let you run, but that’s all. You’ll go light today, boy, but soon it’ll be all the way.”
Alec gave the colt a little more rein, and he loped easily along as other horses swept past them. Finally they neared the Chief as they entered the backstretch halfway around the track.
Lenny Sansone, also poised high in his stirrups, holding the Chief in, turned in his saddle as Alec came up. “He’s a mighty nice horse, Alec.… Haven’t seen anything like him since the day I saw the Black run,” he said admiringly. “How does he ride?”
“Like the Black,” said Alec with a grin.
“You’re serious?” Lenny asked. “You think he has his speed? He’s pretty big.… Looks as if he has the endurance, but he’s big for a sprinter.”
“He can move,” Alec said.
Satan snorted and swerved alongside the Chief; for a moment his teeth were bared.
“He could be nasty,” Lenny said as Alec pulled Satan away.
They finished their jog in front of Mike and Henry, and when the old trainer came up to him, Alec said, “He did it, Henry!”
“Yeah,” Henry replied, “not bad. Now jog around to the three-quarter pole. Then gallop a half an’ blow him out for a quarter like I told you. Mike’s having Len do the same with the Chief. You’ll be finishing right here.”
As Alec turned Satan around, he heard Mike say to Lenny, “Turn it on that last quarter, Len. An’ remember, if he starts to lag, fan your whip alongside him. He’ll move then.”
The sun was well up in the sky, and all the other horses had left the track. Alec noticed, though, that their trainers, exercise boys and grooms still lined the rail in front of the grandstand. They wanted to watch the big black colt run.
Lenny moved up alongside Alec as they rounded the first turn. “We’ll see what both of ’em have now,” he shouted
As they neared the three-quarter pole they let up on their reins, and the horses swept by at a slow gallop.
Satan fought for his head as he gained momentum, his long black tail streaming behind him.
The Chief surged to the front, Lenny keeping him close to the rail. Alec made no attempt to catch up. Still half-poised in his stirrups, he was holding Satan back. Henry had said a slow gallop for the first half; Alec intended to do just that and not let Satan out until they hit the last quarter pole.
Satan was furious as Alec held him in and the Chief lengthened his lead. “Easy, Satan. Easy,” Alec said. “This is just to get the feel of it.”
The colt’s ears cocked back, then pricked forward again as he reached out, fighting the bit.
The white rail of the track whipped by as they thundered down the backstretch and approached the last turn, with the Chief running easily a good four lengths ahead.
“Easy, Satan. Easy,” Alec called to his horse. “Just a little farther now.”
Satan wanted to run, and having the bay colt in front of him made him furious. Alec’s arms felt like weights from the constant strain of holding his horse in check. The rail swept by at ever increasing speed, and Alec knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold Satan back much longer. Then, through blurred eyes, he saw the final quarter pole flash by. In front of him, the Chief leapt forward as Lenny gave him his head.
With a cry of relief, Alec loosened the reins and bent low over Satan’s neck.
The sudden blinding speed momentarily swept his breath away, and for a few seconds Alec clung desperately to Satan’s black mane. Then the wind was whipping his face scarlet, and almost hysterically he heard himself yelling, “Now, Satan, now!”
But the giant colt needed no urging. Free, he ran like fire before the wind. He came down the homestretch with thunderous strides, engulfing the ground between him and the hard-running bay colt.
With about three hundred yards to go, Alec saw that this would be no race, for Satan would pass the Chief like a bullet. Disclosing amazing speed, the giant black bore down upon the bay, and Alec drew up the reins to bring Satan up on the outside. They were near now.… Another stride and they’d be flying past.
Suddenly Lenny reached for his whip and fanned it alongside the Chief to get more speed out of him. From the corner of his eye Alec saw it sweep by.
Satan saw it, too. He threw back his head, pulled up, swerved far across the track, and crashed hard against the outside rail.
THE SANFORD
16
They stood in the middle of the field, Alec keeping a firm hold on the lead rope attached to Satan’s halter, and Henry standing close beside him.
“You don’t think that leg will get worse when we put him on the track again?” Alec asked anxiously without moving his eyes from the colt. “You’re sure?”
“I tell you again, no, Alec,” Henry replied. “For the last couple of weeks, ever since he went through the fence, you’ve been askin’ me that, and I’ve been tellin’ you that in another few days or so his leg will be as good as it ever was … just as long as we keep him from playin’ around too much, as we’ve been doin’. We’ve got to have patience for just a short time longer. Those muscles have got to be strengthened slowly, Alec.… It’s got to be like we were moldin’ glass.”
Satan stopped grazing and shook his head, pulling hard on the lead rope.
“He wants to run, Henry.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s got the feel of the track now and is anxious to get back to it.” Henry paused, then added, “It’s best to play it safe, though, Alec. We’ll keep him on the lead rope for a few more days, then put him out in the field by himself before takin’ him to the track.”
“You think he’ll be ready to go in the Hopeful then, Henry?” Alec asked eagerly. “It’s less than two months off now.”
“Plenty of time,” Henry muttered; then his face sobered as he added, “The leg won’t give him any trouble.… It’s his fear of the whip that worries me, as I’ve been tellin’ you all along.”
“I know, Henry,” Alec answered thoughtfully. “We’ve got to lick it some way.”
“He’ll never forget my usin’ the whip on him, Alec.” Henry’s face was grim and his brow furrowed as he recalled the morning he had tried to break Satan so many months ago. “I’ve got to figure out some way to overcome that or he’ll never finish a race.”
“Maybe using blinkers, as you said, Henry,” Alec suggested. “He’ll only be able to see straight ahead then.”
“Maybe,” Henry repeated. “Maybe … if you can get him out in front before the other jocks start usin’ their sticks.”
“He runs like the wind, Henry. He’ll be out in front.”
“The Comet ain’t no mild breeze, either, Alec,” Henry cautioned. “An’ there’ll be Volence’s Desert Storm.… The fastest two-year-olds in the country will all be there. Nope,” he went on. “You can’t be too cocksure about that race, Alec. The slightest swerve on Satan’s part, an’ he’s licked runnin’ against such horses.”
They were silent for a long while, as Satan circled slowly about them, his head craned and heavy ears pricked forward.
Finally Henry said, “If you’re out in front comin’ down the homestretch, it’ll be all right, Alec. But what’s worryin’ me as much as anything is the start.… You know as well as I do that they’ll all be using their sticks then, too.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, Henry,” Alec replied thoughtfully.
“You’ll have trouble keepin’ him on the track if he acts the same way he did with the Chief,” Henry grunted. “You can’t run too wide an’ lose ground with those fast horses in the Hopeful, Alec. It’s too short a race. An’ remember, they’re runnin’ the Hopeful over the Widener Course this year an’ that’s a straightaway for the whole six an’ a half furlongs.”
“I know, Henry,” Alec replied quietly. “And maybe a straightaway is best for Satan. If I draw an outside position, I can bring him straight down the track, keeping him away from the other horses.”
“Mebbe,” Henry agreed thoughtfully. “An’ the blinkers will help in that case. But we’ve got to do more than that, Alec. Between now and the Hopeful, we’ve got to try to undo all the harm I’m responsible for.” Henry paused, then continued, “I’m goin’ to get some sticks an’ we’re goin’ to put ’em all about Satan’s stall, so he can get used to seein’ ’em around. Then I want you to start carryin’ a stick when you’re ridin’ him in the field an’ over at the track. We’ve got to get him used to seein’ sticks around, Alec.… We’ve got to,” Henry concluded.
A few minutes later Alec led Satan into his stall; and as he stood beside his horse, he said, “You won’t let us down, will you, fellow?” While Satan nuzzled his shirt, Alec rubbed him between the eyes.
“He’s right as rain,” Henry said.
“He’s ready to go,” Alec said. “Or he will be in a few more weeks.”
When they were outside again, Henry drew Alec over to the wooden bench. “I’ve got something on my mind,” he said, sitting down.
“Don’t you think we’ve got enough already?” Alec replied half jokingly, as he sat down beside his friend. Then he saw the tense look on Henry’s face and his own sobered. “What is it?” he asked.
“I want you to do me a favor,” Henry said without looking at him.
“Sure.”
“About two weeks before the Hopeful, there’s a seventy-five-hundred-dollar race for two-year-olds at Belmont called the Sanford,” Henry said slowly. “I’d like to see Satan in it … an’ I want to pay the entry fee.”
Alec started to object, but Henry interrupted him. “I’ve got the dough, Alec. It only costs a hundred an’ twenty-five bucks to start him, an’ entries don’t close until next week.”
Alec looked at h
“You might call it that. It’s good preparation for the big race. It’s run over the Widener Course like the Hopeful will be.”
“And if he doesn’t go well … if he swerves and gets licked …”
Henry’s eyes fell. “If that happens I’d say save the five hundred bucks it would cost you to start him in the Hopeful an’ forget the whole thing. We could then work on him and maybe race him next year.”
Alec didn’t say anything.
Henry continued, “You’ve already shelled out two hundred keepin’ him eligible for the Hopeful during the past year.… You’d lose that, but save yourself the five hundred.”
Alec looked at him, his eyes flashing. Finally he said, “He’ll win the Sanford … and the Hopeful.”
Henry’s eyes flashed back as he said, “Then you’ll let me enter him?”
“You’re sure you can spare the money?”
“I’ve got it,” Henry said. “I want to do it, because if I hadn’t used the whip on Satan we wouldn’t be havin’ this trouble. An’ maybe,” he went on thoughtfully, “his runnin’ in the Sanford will help matters some. At least we’ll know where we stand.”
“How about Boldt’s Comet and Desert Storm? Do you think they’ll be in the Sanford?” Alec asked.
“No,” Henry returned. “Boldt is waitin’ for the Hopeful, an’ Volence is runnin’ Desert Storm in the Grand Union Hotel Stakes a few days after the Sanford, so he won’t be in it either. It’ll be a walkaway for Satan, if he doesn’t give you any trouble,” he concluded.