The Horse Tamer (Black Stallion, Book 14)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
While waiting for a delayed airplane, old Henry Dailey, the Black's trainer, tells young Alec Ramsay a story of his own youth, travelling with his brother, Bill. Bill Dailey's talent as a horse-whisperer was unmatched in the days before the automobile and young Henry tells of an unscrupulous con-man who mistreats horses into behaving temporarily. Bill is determined to show that the man is a fraud, but can he unmask the con without getting hurt?Walter Farley experimented with many genres of writing and here, in his only foray into historical fiction, he weaves a fascinating tale of life when horses were the primary means of transportation.
drivin’ without reins is when you have your own buggy.” “I practice with any buggy, any time. You’d better get used to that if you plan to stick around, Hank.” “I came to learn how to make carriages, not do tricks,” the boy said, “especially tricks that can get you into trouble.” The man tried unsuccessfully to blow a lock of long black hair away from his eyes. “You’ll learn both,” he said, laughing, “an’ you won’t get into trouble either. You jus’ stick with your big brother Bill. He’ll take
the Mustang fought the bridle and was quickly overpowered by its force was there any chance of achieving control over him. As he worked, Bill kept watching the horse’s eyes for they would tell him how far he should go. He wound the cord around the head once more, careful not to pull too tight and to exert pressure only when necessary. This cord bridle was safe and reliable but it had to be used with great care and judgment. It applied pressure to a horse’s most vulnerable spot, a point behind
the ears. The more cord that was used, the greater the pressure, and it could not be left on too long or the horse’s life would be endangered. Bill used it only when he had to and in this case it was absolutely necessary. And all the while he never let his attention be drawn away from the Mustang’s eyes. They did not soften. The horse fought the bridle silently. He bore the pressure without striking out. After fifteen minutes Bill Dailey knew the horse had won. To keep applying pressure would
congratulate the people of Butler on their acquisition! In Butler, Bill Dailey worked under canvas for the first time. The annual fair was being held there and he was asked to exhibit his skill. At first he did not like it at all. The slick shell-game operators and carnival men reminded him too much of Finn Caspersen. Whenever he looked at a sideshow poster or listened to a spieler claiming whatever was inside to be “The most reemarkable on the face of the earth!” he could not help thinking of
frightened and shaken but not hurt. “You all right?” Bill asked his brother anxiously. “Yeah, but take a good look at Mr. Murray’s new buggy.” The man’s eyes didn’t leave the mare. “She’d have stopped if I’d gotten to her before this tree did. It wasn’t her fault. She—” He stopped as if suddenly recalling the cause of their accident and swept his gaze down the lane. In the middle of the road was a peddler’s wagon, its flat-bed laden and bulging with glistening pails, tinware, clocks, muslins,