The Island Stallion (Black Stallion)

The Island Stallion (Black Stallion)

Walter Farley

Language: English

Pages: 240

ISBN: 0394843762

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

When Steve Duncan is asked to go on an archeological search on a remote Caribbean island, he never imagines the stallion he will find there. But the giant horse is unapproachable, showing nothing but fear and fury towards people. When the stallion gets caught in quicksand, can Steve get close enough to save the wild horse?












imaginary horse. Too bad you can’t have him. Too bad there is no Flame. But there are other horses here. They’re nothing like your imaginary Flame, but they’re horses nevertheless. Tom said he’d give you one if you stayed two weeks. You’ve always wanted a horse of your own, so here’s your chance. Tomorrow you can take a closer look at them. Tomorrow you can take your pick of them. Yes, and tomorrow Pitch wants to start digging. Pitch, the historian. Steve, the archaeologist. You’d better go to

wearing his hat when he was going a hundred feet or more under the ground. Taking off his own hat, he flung it to one side. For a few minutes, Steve could hear the sound of Pitch’s feet scraping the wall. The rope was taut. Fingering it, Steve waited until the sounds from Pitch no longer reached his ears and the rope had lost its tautness. He knew then that Pitch had reached the bottom of the shaft. “Pitch! Pitch! Are you all right?” There were a few seconds of frightening, agonizing silence,

Then he smiled, adding with attempted lightness, “You and I have nothing to say about this, you know, Steve.” “I’ve got to do something.” “But you can’t, Steve!” Pitch’s words were clipped. “And, frankly, I don’t understand why you feel it shouldn’t be this way. This is the survival of the fittest, a contest that’s been going on since the world began. Oh, I know how you feel about that red horse—I haven’t forgotten your dream of Flame. A remarkable coincidence. But you said yourself, Steve,

Steve’s eyes. “I slept a little,” he said, placing the pot down on the ground. “What have you been up to?” “He’s got a bad cut on his chest,” Steve replied. “It was dirty. I cleaned it just now.” Pitch cast a quick glance at the first-aid kit that lay on the ground beside Steve’s pack. The package of gauze was open. “I just used hot water and soap,” Steve was saying as he bent over the kit. “I want to put some iodine on the cut a little later on.” “But maybe iodine is too strong for him,

ever send him the money to get Flame home. But he doesn’t know them, Steve thought. He doesn’t really know them. The boy stood up and walked over to his pack, while Pitch stayed behind, still fondling the heavy iron spur. After a while Steve heard Pitch say, “I’m going to leave them behind, Steve. I’ve decided for myself. I’ve made up my mind.” And when the boy turned to him, he saw that Pitch’s eyes were bright and that his face had lost the tautness of the past few days. Steve suddenly felt

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