The Horse Tamer (Black Stallion, Book 14)
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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.
if he were whispering something to him, and he had quite a local reputation for his power over horses. Some people even thought his powers were supernatural.” Finn Caspersen stopped a moment and when he continued there was more of an Irish lilt to his voice than ever before. “Shure and I remember our parish priest crossin’ to the other side of the street, he did, whenever The Whisperer came along! ’Tis the truth I speak when I say he thought the man was in league with the very divil himself!”
lookin’ around for a horse-tamer.” Henry paused and Alec said, “They could have called him a trainer. A tamer makes you think of wild animals.” “Training takes time, Alec, as you know, and these men had no time. They did a job in a matter of hours—a few days at most—and then went on to the next case. Some of the horses, too, were worse than wild animals—vicious, mean horses. Most often, of course, they were the result of bad handling by their owners. But come to think of it, what kind of a job
its tail and was circling crazily. A few minutes later Bill got his first look at Tar Heel. He was of the finest blood, as the doctor had said. He was coal black and light-boned, weighing not much over a thousand pounds. He moved about his box stall with all the grace of a panther, his head constantly turning toward the door. He was in every respect a model of flowing grace. But his eyes gave him away. They were snakelike. His forehead, too, was a little too low. Bill would have known without
Black Stallion and rubbed him thoughtfully. “What became of Finn Caspersen? He was quite a character. Did he stay with your brother as he promised he’d do?” “For a while.” “You mean he ran out on him again?” “Well, not exactly. What I mean is that he never went back to treatin’ horses. He knew Bill wouldn’t have stood for that. No, Finn got hold of another way of makin’ a living and it suited him just fine. He made a fortune at it.” “What was it?” “Selling bicycles.” “Bicycles?” Alec
began. Naturally, Wild Bess was stronger than he. The secret was not to let her know it. This mare would have to be treated like the bully she’d become. And the less time it took, the better; she’d been encouraged to resist control long enough. Bill opened the door, holding the rope halter Mr. Boyer had given him. If she had been wearing a halter, it would have made what he had to do a lot easier. Wild Bess came out of the stall too fast for him to get the halter on her. She turned upon him,