Read Online The Black Stallion by Walter Farley - Free Book Online Page B

minutes later, the door opened and his uncle entered the stall. It was only when he was going past Tom that the boy angrily turned him. "Keep away from him!" he shouted. "You've done—" He stopped when he saw the whiteness of his uncle's face. Tom's gaze fell. What good would it do to take it out on his uncle? Sure, he could say it was his uncle's poor eyesight that was responsible for his putting the halter on so tight. But
he
was more to blame. It was
his
colt. He should have made sure the halter fit correctly. He couldn't say it was the darkness of the stall that was responsible for his not noticing the tight nose band. He had no excuse. He should have made certain last night. It was too late now.
    "I was just goin' to get the halter," his uncle was saying "I'm goin' to burn it, if you won't." He had the halter and was leaving the stall, when he stopped in front of Tom. His sad eyes sought those of the boy. "I'd let it bleed good, Tom. Bleedin' will help," he said in a low voice.
    Tom nodded, but didn't raise his eyes.
    It was only when Tom heard his aunt calling him that he left the stall. He didn't feel like eating, but it would be better if he went to breakfast. Aunt Emma would ask a lot of questions if he didn't, and he didn't want to talk about it. He would let the welt bleed a while; it would help to cleanse the cut and reduce the swelling. After breakfast he would do what he could for the colt. He would do it his own way. He wouldn't ask any help from Uncle Wilmer. Tom had a lot to make up for, and it would take time—much longer than if this hadn't happened.
    All through breakfast Aunt Emma knew there was something wrong, but she didn't ask what it was. Nor did Tom or Uncle Wilmer volunteer any information. They ate in silence, Tom toying with his pancakes. And for the first time since he had arrived at the farm, Aunt Emma didn't urge him to eat more.
    He left before his uncle and aunt had finished their breakfast. And if his aunt wondered why he had poured hot water into the porcelain washbowl and carried it with him, she did not ask.
    When he reached the barn, Tom went into the end stall, which had been used for the tack room. He went to the chest and, removing a small bottle of disinfectant, poured a few drops into the hot water. Next, he tore a piece of gauze from a roll and folded it carefully; then he left the room.
    The Queen moved toward him when he entered the box stall. But his eyes were for the colt, standing close beside her. The bleeding had stopped and the swelling was beginning to go down a bit. The Queen pushed her nose toward the bowl Tom carried. He put it high on the window sill, where she could not get at it; then he went to the rear of the stall and pitched some hay into the Queen's rack. It would be best if she ate while he took care of the colt.
    He went inside the stall again and soaked the gauze in the disinfectant solution. Then, holding the gauze behind him, he extended his other hand toward the colt, still half-hidden behind the mare. In the palm of his hand were some crushed oats. He knelt down beside the mare, his hand thrust beneath her belly toward where he could see the slim legs of the colt.
    He was content to wait, and wait he did. Many minutes passed while the mare continued eating and the cloth dried in Tom's hand, yet the colt made no move nor did he attempt to eat the feed offered him.
    Tom looked up to find his uncle standing in the doorway.
    "I could hold him for you," Uncle Wilmer said slowly. "That way you could do it easier an' faster—" He stopped abruptly, looking toward the floor. "You'd better do it your way," he added finally.
    A short time later, Uncle Wilmer left while Tom still sat on the straw beside the mare, waiting for the colt to show an interest in the oats he was offering him.
    He didn't know how long he had been there when he felt the colt's breath on his fingers; then, seconds later, the soft muzzle touched his hand. He held it still and steady as the