The Black Stallion

to learn it early."
    Wasn't his uncle saying exactly that? Perhaps he was doing more harm than good by letting the colt get away from him. Perhaps the colt should be held, even against his will, while the halter was put on. He'd find the halter wouldn't hurt him. He'd get used to it and everything would be all right.
    Tom waited until the colt's interest was diverted from him to the Queen, then he went forward, quietly walking up to the foal as he nursed. He placed a hand on the fuzzy coat, and the colt was too absorbed in his feeding to pay any attention to him. Tom ran his hands over the small body, waiting.
    When the colt had finished he turned to Tom, but made no effort to get away. The boy knew that only his raising of the halter would cause the colt to run. His arm was around the colt, his body pressed close to him. All he had to do was to hold him still for a minute while he got the halter on him. His grip tightened about the muscular body. He thought he'd be able to hold him now. As he continued talking to the colt, he raised the halter.
    A startled look came into the colt's eyes at sight of it. He felt the arm about his body. He pulled back, dragging Tom with him. Then he half-reared, twisting and turning as he came down.
    Tom felt his grip on the writhing body slipping, and realized he couldn't hold him. Rather than fight the colt any longer, he let him go.
    "Now y'did it!" his uncle yelled, coming into the paddock. "Y'tried to hold him an' he broke away from you! He'll never forget it if you don't teach him better."
    Uncle Wilmer swept past Tom, still shouting. And before the boy had any inkling of what his uncle intended doing, the man had the colt hard up against the Queen's side.
    The colt tried to get away, but Uncle Wilmer moved quickly, his long arms encircling the colt's chest and haunches. Then there was a sudden twist, and the man heaved the colt off his feet and threw him to the ground, holding him still with his hands and knees.
    Tom was standing over his uncle, shouting and trying to pull him away from the colt, but the man paid no attention to him.
    "Give me that halter," Uncle Wilmer growled, snatching it from the boy. "I'll teach him who's boss," he muttered as he slipped the halter over the small head. "I'll teach him, all right."
    Uncle Wilmer and the colt were on their feet at almost the same time. The colt, now wearing the halter, ran quickly behind his mother.
    Uncle Wilmer was leaving the paddock. Aunt Emma was calling to him and Tom to come to supper. The skies were darkening fast, and it would be night in a matter of minutes.
    Tom stood there, dazed by the quick turn of events. He shouldn't have let Uncle Wilmer. But how could he have stopped him? The halter was on. Uncle Wilmer's way had been swift, firm and hard, yet he hadn't hurt the colt. The job had been done quickly, easily. But he had done it by force.
    "I've seen too many people try to knock obedience into a colt by giving him the rough treatment," Jimmy Creech had written. "They say it's faster, and they're right. But what they forget is that it usually breaks the colt's spirit, too. And when that's done you've killed what may have been a fine horse."
    Tom thought of Jimmy's words as he moved to where he could see the colt. He found him standing close beside the mare, yet bending down, trying to reach the grass to graze. The colt was more intent upon his effort to stretch his short neck as far as possible than he was upon the halter about his head.
    Again Aunt Emma called Tom to come to supper, and her voice was more demanding now.
    Tom led the Queen into the box stall and the colt followed close behind. After feeding the mare, Tom stopped beside the colt, who was beginning to show an interest in the Queen's oats. It was dark inside the stall and Tom could only see the outline of the small body. The boy attempted to place a hand on the colt, but he moved away quickly from him.
    "I couldn't stop Uncle Wilmer this time," Tom said. "But it won't happen again. I promise you that."
    Tom knew that his uncle had only done what he thought best. Tom realized too that he himself had made a mistake in attempting to hold the colt. He should have had more patience. He should have spent days, if necessary, trying to coax the colt into letting him put the halter on his head. And if that had failed, he could have asked Uncle Wilmer simply to hold the colt still while he put it on. But Uncle Wilmer had thrown the colt hard to the ground. It