The Island Stallion Races Read Online Free PDF Page A

of his own
or
continuing his summer visits with Pitch, and he had chosen the latter. He couldn’t give up Flame and Blue Valley.
    Steve walked on, aware that he didn’t feel as well as he had only a short while before. Perhaps it was due to the blunt rebuff he’d received from the foals and the yearling colt … especially the colt, for they had beensuch fast friends the previous summer. The colt had grown up and away from him during the months he’d been away.
    He brushed the sweat from his face, realizing suddenly that the weather too had changed. The sun’s rays had finally penetrated the cool air of the valley. No longer was the day crystal clear but heavy with tropic heat. Steve decided, as he approached the end wall, that the afternoon was no warmer than any other in the past. It was just oppressive by comparison with those wonderful earlier hours.
    Returning to camp, he made himself a sandwich, and stayed within the cave to eat it. Finally he rose from his chair and went out on the ledge to stand in the sun again. He felt the beads of perspiration come to his forehead, but he didn’t leave the open ledge. His eyes and feet shifted uneasily as he looked down the valley.
    Somehow, just as the weather had changed so had he. He was restless, even becoming concerned again about that floating white patch on the water. It was all so silly, so foolish. There was no reason to be concerned. He had decided once and for all it was something that had been caused by the chemical reaction of gases and water. It would be gone by now, swallowed by the sea just as the meteor had been.
    He walked from one side of the ledge to the other, still ignoring the relief from the sun which the cave offered him. If it was the floating patch that was bothering him, why not make certain that it had long since disappeared? If his mind would not listen to reason, the only way to rid himself of his apprehension was to go andlook again. He’d find nothing, and that would make everything all right.
    Taking his knapsack and lantern, he went up the trail. The valley was very quiet; it seemed that the birds too had sought refuge from the heat. He hoped they hadn’t forsaken Blue Valley altogether. It was nice having them around, even if the larger one had annoyed Flame. He turned to look at his stallion and the band. They were grazing in the shade of the western wall. Flame moved restlessly from one patch of grass to another, raising his head every so often, ears pricked and listening.
    Steve went into the great opening, wondering if Flame felt the same anxiety that he did. And if so, for what reason, when everything had been so serene before? He hurried along the underground stream, anxious to reach the lookout post over the western sea.
    When he arrived there he pressed his eyes close to the narrow slit. The afternoon sun was higher than during his last visit, so its rays did not obstruct his view of the sea’s surface. He saw immediately that the grayish-white patch was still there, and the blood began pounding in his temples. He pressed his head closer to the stone, welcoming its coolness. He tried to make sense of what he was seeing. It must be floating algae, phosphorescent at night, grayish-white during the day. But why then hadn’t it moved? Why was it anchored in the same identical spot as last night?
    He forsook the coolness of the stone against his head for the binoculars and the better view they would provide. As he put the glasses to his eyes, he found thathis hands were moist. He chastised himself, ridiculed himself for his mounting concern. But nothing helped.
    He looked through the binoculars. The patch was no different than when seen with the naked eye … it was grayish-white, round and motionless. Steve stayed there a long while, not wanting to leave without having decided once and for all what it really was. He didn’t want to spend another uneasy night.
    He could not have told how long he had been there when he saw some