“I ‘ve been waiting all these years...
I’m Black Beauty, narrating ...”
I could still remember those happy days when I was living with my mother in a large pleasant meadow. I used to gallop around with the other colts merrily. Sometimes we indulged in rough play - kicking and biting each other. It was during one such play, my mother whinnied and gave me a piece of advice -“You are wellborn and well-bred. You should possess a sweet temper like your father. You must grow up gentle and good”.
I had a lot of love and admiration for my mother, as she was a wise old horse. Her name was Duchess, but my master endearingly called her “Pet”. I was beginning to grow handsome with a star on my forehead, a smooth shiny coat, bright alert eyes and strong feet.
The fateful day came. I was made ready to be ‘broken in’. You may not know what breaking in means. It is the process of teaching a horse how to wear a saddle, a bridle and a collar so that a cart could be fixed behind. I could neither bite, nor kick, nor have a will of my own. When the harness was put on my neck, no joy could make me jump or weariness could lie me down.
I was not used to a halter but now I had to wear it. I could not move as I wished. The worst of all was to have a ‘bit’. A ‘bit’ was a piece of cold hard steel which was pushed into my mouth with the ends held fast by strap.
Next came the saddle. My master was putting it on my back gently besides patting and talking to me. He got on to me and rode around the meadow. Forgetting all my pains, I felt proud to carry my master.
Putting on the iron shoes was yet another unpleasant experience. My feet were feeling very stiff and heavy, but in course of time I got used to it. When I was about five, I was sold to a man called Squire Gordon. My master said, “Goodbye! Be a good horse and always do your best”. It was another piece of advice which I carried all along. I was feeling depressed to leave my mother and my birth place, but I had no option. At Squire Gordon’s stable I met Merrylegs, a fat grey pony with a thick mane and a tail. Also there was Ginger, a tall mare.
Ginger was an ill-tempered one but I still managed to get on well with her. She was treated so roughly by her old master that she turned out to be rude. John was the coachman who gave me a good grooming and Little Joe Green was the stable man. Admiring my beauty, Mrs. Gordon called me ‘Black Beauty’. I was feeling happy when people called me Black Beauty.
One day in autumn, I carried my master and John to the nearby town. It was getting dark when we returned. We were going along at a good pace. But the moment I touched a bridge, I felt sure there was something wrong. I dared not go forward and made a dead stop.
“Go on, Beauty,” said my master. I neighed but I did not stir. Of course I could not tell him, but I knew very well that the bridge was not safe. Just then, a man came running and shouted, “Stop! The bridge is broken in the middle”. “You, Beauty!” said John and took the bridle gently and turned me around. I thanked God who helped me to save two lives. God gave men reason but He gave animals intuition which was much more prompt and perfect in its own way.
From time to time my mistress took ill and the doctor asked my master to take her to a warmer place. So I was sold to an Earl. My new mistress wanted my reins to be tightly held which really hurt and took the spirit out of me. Day by day, they were shortening the reins and the strain fell on to my back and legs. As my master did not want to nurse a sick horse, I was again sold. Nicholas, my new master, was always hard on men and his men in turn were hard on the horses. My life was becoming so miserable, that I wished I would drop down dead. But I was helpless.
Very soon I was sold to one Mr.Thoroughgood, who gave me hay and oats. The next day when my new groom was cleaning my face, he identified the white star on my forehead and exclaimed, “It must be Black Beauty!”. He began patting me and was overjoyed. He was no other than Little Joe Green. He was sure that I was Squire Gordon’s Black Beauty. He further said that he would inform the Gordons that their Black Beauty was with him. I was feeling happy that I would never be sold again. Now then, my life has become a full circle, dotted with memories - good and bad. But I am satisfied that I have followed my mother’s advice throughout my life. I am happy that I maintain my quality and dignity amidst all hardships. Generations of children will be reading my story and love me.
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