The Black Stallion's Filly by Walter Farley Read Free Book Online Page B

himself.
Wasn’t her sire the greatest distance runner of them all?
    Again the filly came up to Alec’s end of thepaddock. But this time she brought herself to an abrupt stop a short way from him. She reared, pawing the air, and whinnied shrilly. She even took a few steps on her hind legs, walking with the perfect balance and grace of a ballet dancer.
    Alec didn’t move. It was a pretty trick to see, but just now it had no place in her training as a racehorse.
    â€œNone of that, girl,” he called to Black Minx.
    Finally she came down and stood still, as though waiting for him to make a move, to run, so she could chase him. But he remained still and, after a few minutes, she snorted and bolted away. After going a short distance, she stopped, whirled, and came back to stand before him again. Her eyes were bright in her eagerness to play.
    Alec watched the filly closely, knowing that she was more apt to try her tricks with him than with Henry. He was more the age and size of the Chandler kids, who had played with her so long. But he would have none of it. He would do nothing to hinder Henry’s work in making her the racehorse he wanted her to be.
    Black Minx’s large eyes never left Alec. She moved a step nearer to extend her head toward him, her muzzle quivering excitedly. Alec waited, talking to her in a low voice but never moving. His hands remained at his sides. He did nothing to encourage her to come closer, to search his pockets, to nip, to play.
    Suddenly she snorted again, tossing her head up and down with mane and forelock flying. Alec still didn’t move, and finally she turned away from him,holding her head and docked tail high. Her manner was one of disdain and disappointment.
    Her name suited her well, for certainly she was a little minx, Alec decided. Minx meant a pert girl, one inclined to be forward, impudent, even intentionally mischievous. Well, that was this filly all over!
    He saw Henry move toward her as she stood by the fence, watching Napoleon. Apparently the old trainer thought it was time to take control again. She had stretched her legs and worked off the edge of her abundant energy. Alec knew that Henry hadn’t enjoyed watching her tricks, her playfulness. From now on she wouldn’t get a chance to frolic alone. From now on she would leave the barn only under saddle.
    Alec waited until Henry had skillfully maneuvered the filly into the corner of the paddock. When the trainer had her by the halter, Alec started down.
    More than ever he was anxious to ride her. He had liked her easy way of going about the paddock. But only when they had her on the track would they be able to learn what kind of racehorse she would be. Her mischief and bad manners could be corrected. More important were her speed over a distance, a will to win, and gameness. All three were necessary if she was to become a champion. Within a few minutes they’d start up the long road that would give them their answers during the months to come.
    Henry was waving to Alec, urging him to quicken his steps. He broke into a trot, but continued thinking of the filly.
    She had a mind of her own, and that to himindicated she’d inherited some of the Black’s temperament. Not all of it, thank heavens. No more than Satan had. A little of it went a long way. Then certainly she should have
his
tremendous will to win and gameness! Alec’s eyes were shining brightly as he neared Henry and Black Minx.
    â€œGet the tack now,” Henry said.
    Alec nodded and went on to the tack room in the stallion barn. A few moments later he helped Henry put on the filly’s bridle. She gave them no trouble with it or with the light saddle that they placed snugly on her back. She had worn each in her stall the week before, and was used to them again.
    Henry clasped his hands, ready for Alec’s knee. His face was serious, even a little grim. “I don’t know how long it’s been since she’s had