Silver Stallion by Junghyo Ahn Read Free Book Online Page B

asked, “What’s the matter with you two?”
    â€œI don’t know what it is,” Kangho said, “but something is wrong with Mansik.”
    â€œHush, boys, and listen,” Mansik said in a choking voice, waving his hand.
    â€œListen to what?” Chandol asked, frowning.
    â€œJust listen. Can’t you hear that sound?”
    â€œWhat sound?” said Kijun, flustered.
    â€œThat sound.”
    The boys listened attentively, standing in the hot sun on the deserted trail, transfixed. Their tanned shoulders reflected the sunshine. It was dead silent except for the distant peaceful murmur of the flowing water.
    â€œI can’t hear anything but the river,” said Kijun.
    â€œI can hear it!” said Kangho, shock and fear in his voice. “I can hear it. It’s a very peculiar sound. Like a great big monster growling somewhere.”
    â€œWhat do you think it is?” Mansik asked Kangho.
    â€œNow I can hear it too!” said Chandol. “I think something is rolling around. Or it’s dry thunder rumbling underground.” Or the silver stallion galloping through the cavern, he thought.
    â€œI’m afraid,” said Kijun, recoiling from the other boys as though the mysterious sound came from them. He was more afraid because he could not hear what everybody else did.
    â€œTo me it sounds like a big grindstone rotating at a rice mill,” Mansik said.
    â€œI know what it is,” Kangho said, his expression still tense but more confident. “It’s a tank.”
    â€œWhat’s a tank?” asked Mansik.
    â€œA steel wagon with lots of wheels and a cannon,” said Chandol. He always knew something about everything.
    â€œWhat should we do, Chandol?” asked Kangho.
    â€œIt’s coming closer!” Kijun said.
    â€œLet’s hide,” Mansik suggested.
    â€œHide!” Chandol said. “Quick!”
    The naked boys dashed into the reeds. They did not dare to come out for several minutes even when they could not hear the crunching sound any longer.
    Their shins were scratched by the grass as they plodded on toward the Soyang River. The boys could hear the occasional crack of rifle shots amid the rustling sound of the weeds. The sounds of rifles and machine guns and tanks grew more and more frequent and louder by the time the boys reached an abandoned dugout on the thistle-covered wasteland where a Hyonam farmer used to grow strawberries. They turned left around the dugout and headed for the ferry upstream.
    Finally they saw the tanks. Majestically decorated with twigs and broad leaves, six steel giants and countless trucks rolled along the road between the railway station and the river toward the Soyang Bridge. It was obvious that no tanks had yet crossed the river to Cucumber Island, but the sound was so loud now that the boys felt they were only a few yards away.
    â€œSo, there they are,” said Chandol, pausing among the sticky thistles. “Tanks and soldiers and everything.”
    â€œBut we can’t see much from here,” said Mansik, shadowing his eyes with his hand. “It’s too far.”
    The boys hurried through the weeds, concealing themselves behind clumps and sand dunes from the soldiers on the trucks. As the sounds of war grew louder, they grew more excited. Then they heard people shout at one another nearby.
    â€œDid you hear that, Chandol?” said Kangho, halting again. “Don’t you think we’d better hide again?”
    At Chandol’s signal, they threw themselves into the reeds. They listened cautiously for a while. Chandol motioned them to follow him. They crawled through the reeds closer to the ferry. They stopped again. Holding their breath, the boys silently pushed aside the reeds and peeked out.
    A hundred soldiers in green uniforms and green helmets carrying knapsacks on their backs swarmed down the sloping path from the bank to the ferry.
    â€œThese are not Red