Chapter-3
My new master was Squire Gordon. I couldn’t ever forget the day when his son Gordon died in my home-meadow. The Squire owned a large area with a big and magnificent house. The stables there were also well kept.
After I had separated from my owner Farmer Grey and my mother with a heavy heart, I was led to the Birtwick Park where the Squire lived. The stables were large demarcated areas like blocks and could house many horses.
My new house was a big box bordered by hay. The Squire offered me some oats which were delicious to taste. His patting made me feel that he would also be a kind master.
The loose box was similar to the field that I used to live in. I wasn’t tied up, so I enjoyed my freedom. After having my oats, I had a look at the other boxes and the horses in them.
The grey pony in the other box seized my attention first. When he caught my view, I asked him his name. He replied, “I am Merrylegs; I have spent a long time here pulling royal carriages with beautiful young ladies. I am greatly admired by them. Have you been given the loose box?”
I nodded with pride. My pride was hindered by a disgraceful mare who cursed me saying that I had turned her out of the loose box. She said that I was a colt.
This remark did hurt me. I replied back, “Don’t call me a colt. I am four years old and a grown-up horse. I am not responsible for your transfer from the box I own. I wasn’t aware of the fact that you used to be here. So, you can’t curse me like that.”
She didn’t say anything more and simply ignored me.
Merrylegs warned me against biting and kicking in the stable. He said, “You need not care about that ill-tempered lady. Her name is Ginger. Once she bit even James Howard who takes care of our stable. Since then, the ladies fear to come here.”
I gave my own views, “I have not been taught such bad habits like biting or kicking aimlessly. I use my mouth, just for eating and chewing.”
Merrylegs understood that I wasn’t like Ginger, a spoilt brat.
Our groom was John Manley. He had made attempts to help Ginger mend her ways, but nothing came out of it.
Merrylegs told me that they couldn’t have the kinder room than John Manly or James Howard.
That night, I had a good nap. When I opened my eyes, it was bright all over. John led me into the yard. The Squire had ordered him to take me round the Highwood, by the watermill and besides the river. Just as John Manly handled me with care, I tried my best to give him the least trouble.
I started slowly. Soon, I was galloping. I was back in Birtwick Park where Mrs Gordon and the Squire were waiting for me. John gave the reports of the day. No doubt, he was gay after the ride. John answered, “I have never come across such a horse as he. He doesn’t care for the shooting of guns or such trivial matters when he is on his duty. We passed some men hunting with their guns, but their shots didn’t make him jump or get disturbed. He simply galloped past them. He is really well trained.” The Squire decided to try me himself the next day.
Even he admired my pace. He said that I was the most pleasant horse he had ridden.
That was the day when I was finally christened. My masters called me Black Beauty due to my good looks and lustrous coat.
John Manley told James, the stable boy, about my name. I overheard him saying that I would have been named Rob Roy who was actually my brother.
Now, I understood why my mother took the accident in the meadow to her heart. After all, she was also the mother of the horse who died that day. He was my only sibling. That’s what happens when we are sold. We lose our own ones and when someone of our own family dies in front of our eyes, we can’t express it appropriate and audible enough to make men realise our losses.
