The Black Stallion Legend Read Online Free PDF

scream, wailing and shattering the stillness of the winter day. It was never-ending as he plunged forward, head downward, seeking the board fence for support. And when he came hard against it, his wailing stopped momentarily as he screamed the words,
“You can’t die! I won’t let you! Pam!”
    Only the broodmares heard him. Startled, they turned their fine heads in Alec’s direction. Then their short, incessant neighs echoed the sorrowful wailing that went on and on and on.

T HE M OURNING
5
    Alec remained hard against the fence, frozen like a statue. He continued screaming Pam’s name but the cries from his throat were nothing but a funnel of white in the cold, cold air. He stood there in the silence, his body shaking, his ears pounding, his head throbbing. He screamed Pam’s name again and this time the sound of his voice emerged from his throat, croaked and horrible.
    “She … never … should have … gone away. I … I loved her … so much … so very much.”
    There were tears and dreadful pain in his eyes. No one could do anything to help him … to bring her back. His tongue and lips were beyond control and a spasm twitched the muscles of his face. He let go his deathlike grip on the fence and turned toward the barn. He could see nothing. He swayed, unable to keep his feet, and collapsed in the snow, his face bloodlessly white, his eyes as lifeless as death.
    He lay in the snow in a frightening state of disintegration.His distress over the loss of Pam was fearful, but he knew something was wrong with his mind, something that had been triggered by his tragic loss. He could feel it. Rather, he could feel nothing, nothing at all, only the cold. Perspiration flowed from his body, dampening his skin, making him colder still. His teeth chattered as he raised his head from the snow and looked out blankly, seeing nothing.
    Struggling to his feet, he held on to the top of the fence. A frigid blast of wind struck his face and he could barely open his eyes. He looked over the fence and could make out only the vague figures of the broodmares. Slowly, he maneuvered his way along the fence, holding on to it with clutched hands lest he fall again.
    He went toward the Stallion Barn step by step in a dreamlike nightmare, his eyes closed. If only it
were
a dream, he thought. If only it would end when he opened his eyes. Pam would be in France waiting for him. He would go to her. They would be together again. They would be warm and safe and loving.
If only!
    He stumbled frantically through the snow. He could see almost nothing, nothing except the dim outline of the Stallion Barn, where he believed he would be safe from whatever was happening to him. Then everything went blank as he tried to move faster, weeping in his despair. He fell in the snow several more times, but always got up, struggling to his feet. He reached the barn door and threw it open.
    He didn’t hear the Black’s neigh of welcome as he stood in the doorway, his body limp, his arms hangingstraight down as if they were no longer a part of his body. He stood dazed, his eyes stark with shock.
    “God,” he pleaded, “please help.” But no sound came from his lips.
    He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, to
think
, to
see
. Even within the warm barn, he was unbearably cold, his teeth chattering. Straining his eyes, he stared at one stall after another, trying to find his horse. The intensity of his grief was something he found himself unable to cope with alone.
    His voice was choked and hoarse when he found the Black’s stall and called to him. But the sound of his voice was unfamiliar to the stallion who waited at the door.
    Alec stood in a daze after he entered the stall. The great black horse moved toward him, and Alec threw his arms around the slender neck and held on as if never to let him go. But his cries were for Pam, and the horse’s hoofs moved uneasily in the straw bedding.
    The Black shoved his head hard against Alec, pushing