The Island Stallion's Fury (Black Stallion, Book 7)

The Island Stallion's Fury (Black Stallion, Book 7)

Walter Farley

Language: English

Pages: 111

ISBN: 0394843738

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Only Steve Duncan and his friend Pitch know of the valley hidden behind the high cliffs of the remote Caribbean Azul Island. And only the two of them know of the beautiful, purebred horses that live there, under the watchful eye of the great red stallion, Flame. But when Pitch's half-brother Tom learns of this lost paradise, he will stop at nothing to make it his own, even if he has to destroy it.

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He started down the tunnel, never hesitating before its blackness. The two he was seeking could be but a short distance away; it wouldn’t take long to find them. Certainly the darkness of the tunnel wouldn’t stop him now. He even increased his pace. He kept one hand close to the jagged wall on the right. That way he’d discover if any other tunnels diverged from this one. But he was certain he’d find none. Only one tunnel, he felt, could have been hollowed through this mass of yellow rock. It

attention. He straightened the stallion’s mane and then walked toward the foal, Flame staying close to his side. The colt had his forelegs bent, his small head lowered and just reaching the grass. He straightened at sight of Steve, stood quietly for a moment chewing the blades he held in his mouth, then spat them out and moved toward Steve. The boy stretched out a hand and gently rubbed the furry body. He checked the hoop of the splint around the rump to make certain there was no chafing of the

believe this island was the Spaniards’ very last stronghold in the Caribbean Sea. I feel that when the English and French drove back the Spanish armies in the latter part of the seventeenth century, the Spaniards retreated to this natural fortress. But in time they had to forsake this island hurriedly, and they left behind the ancestors of the horses we have in Blue Valley today.” Pitch walked over to the stove, and Steve followed. “But you’re not finished with your work, are you, Pitch?” he

run again. But the light came no closer. Instead Tom screamed angrily at them. They were hysterical and meaningless words, which echoed and re-echoed, then finally died within the tunnels. A few minutes later the light retreated until it could no longer be seen. “Come, Steve.” Again the boy took hold of Pitch’s belt, going with him down the right fork. They spoke no more in the blackness and stopped only occasionally when Pitch lit a match to look at the chalked figures and letters on the

looked toward camp and saw that Pitch had already returned. Flame moved away from Steve, cantering toward his band. The boy watched him until he heard the sudden breaking of the cane stalks on his right. Turning around, he saw a heavy bay mare making her way alone through the tall cane. He watched her until she came to a stop in a small clearing not far from the wall. From her size and actions he knew she’d be giving birth to a foal sometime during the afternoon or night. Steve turned away. He

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