The Island Stallion Races Read Online Free Page B

The poster had announced the running of an International Race to be held in Havana, Cuba, August 3rd. That was now less than a week away, he figured. The race was “OPEN TO THE WORLD”—and beneath this screaming declaration was a huge drawing of the globe.
    Steve remembered boarding his plane again, wondering if “Open to the World” included Azul Island. So even then he’d been daydreaming of racing Flame! Such a fantastic prospect must be on his mind to a greater extent than he had realized.
    Suddenly he heard the whir of feathered wings, and as a bird flew close overhead he saw the flash of the white under-body, the large blue wings and the crested head. It was the bird that had dived so recklessly down the end wall. The smaller, brown-backed bird was flying near the cane, squeaking loudly as though in warning or reprimand to the other.
    Suddenly the blue bird flew in front of Flame and then downward, almost in the stallion’s path. Flame thrust out a foreleg without breaking stride. He did it not in play but in anger. The bird annoyed him.
    Steve, aware of Flame’s mounting fury, turned him away from the cane, but the bird followed. Steve letFlame gallop faster and the tall stallion welcomed the opportunity to leave his winged tormentor behind. His strides became longer as he swept across the valley floor.
    Steve’s clucking matched the rhythm of his horse’s hoofs. As the beat became faster and they left the bird behind, he thought once more of the poster he had seen. He pretended that he had Flame on the Havana race track.
Steve Duncan racing Flame!
He bent closer to his horse’s neck and told him to go on. Now they were passing all the other horses in the International Race. Now they were really moving!
    They swept down the valley floor and as he neared the pool Flame began his wide, sweeping turn. Steve leaned with him, urging him to still greater speed. Now they were entering the homestretch.
“Come on, Flame! The finish wire is just ahead!”
    As the stallion lengthened out a low blue streak cut in front of him. Flame slowed his strides and struck out viciously. He even swerved aside, striking again at the bird who had dared to come so close to his legs. This time his hoof grazed the bird’s long tail and the feathers flew. The bird dove into the tall cane, then rose again to be joined by his brown-backed friend whose high, squeaky calls of reprimand could be heard above the pounding of Flame’s hoofs. After circling, the birds flew away.
    Steve buried his head in Flame’s flowing mane again, glad that the blue bird had left them alone. The stallion picked up stride and once more the valley echoed only to the beat of winged hoofs.
    Minutes later Steve slowed his horse and circledthe band. Finally he stopped and slipped off Flame’s back. He walked toward the mares but did not go close enough to frighten the foals. He sat down on the grass and waited for the mares to come to him.
    He did not have long to wait, for the adult members of the band had accepted him long ago. The mares came closer but the suckling foals stayed behind their mothers, a little timid, a little afraid. It was they whom he wanted to make his friends. Every day he spent a short while with them, trying to win their confidence and acceptance.
    He called to these long-legged, furry-coated sons and daughters of Flame, waiting for them to lose their shyness and come to him. But today they showed no curiosity over his presence and did not move from behind their mothers’ protective bodies. Steve waited a long while before finally giving up. He got to his feet, regretting that he had made no progress.
    On the way down the valley he passed a group of yearling colts at play. He called to one of them but the colt took no notice of him. This was the one whose broken leg he had cared for the summer before and whom he had intended to take home. But his parents had given him the choice of using the money he earned each year to maintain a horse