The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1945-08-17
CHAPTER x

Goblin stood motionless, his eyes
scanning the valley, his muzzle lift
ed to suck in and SAVIOR and read all
the messages it flung at him. He
knew much about it already. This
was the country that had called him
and he had answered the call. Those
horses over there, the big, loosely
flung herd, grazing quietly, were the
horses he had been hunting.
Mares! His nostrils quivered. He
neighed loudly. The mares raised
their heads, the foals faced around.
What magnificent animals - big,
smooth, glossy-the very smell OF
them was sweet and strong with
health and power. The mares were
blacks and bays and sorrels, and the
colts were the same, except for a
few piebalds.
Nickering, they lifted their heads
and trotted toward the newcomer.
Goblin rushed happily to meet them.
He was at home with mares. Most
of his life had been spent with them.
They milled around him, thrilled
and excited by the advent of a
stranger. He lost all thought of
fear or caution in the happiness of
having arrived. He met and smelled
and talked to them one by one.
The squeals and whinnies, the jumps
and snorts and playful kickings were
all delightful fun. Some of them
tried to drive the intruder out, but
their bites and kicks were half
hearted.
On the summit of a nearby hill
stood a great white stallion.
He was upwind from his mares,
which was fortunate for the Goblin.
AS it was, the Albino noticed the
commotion in his harem and lifted
his head to observe it.
This animal stood sixteen and a
half hands high. He was pure white.
His body had power and strength
rather than gracefulness. He was
not smooth. He was gnarled like an
old oak tree. His coat was marred
by many scars. His great age
showed in the hollows of his TANKS
and shoulders and face. Behind the
dark glare of his eye, a blazing fire
burned and on this flame was pro-
jected an irresistible will-power, and
a personality that was like the core
of a hurricane.
He looked over his kingdom. He
had stood there for years, looking
over his kingdom. And-if horses
think-wondering who would take
over when his end came. He had
no heir. How could he have? He
permitted no colt older than a year
to remain in the band of mares, nor
any stallion older than a two-year-
old to be in the valley. Here and
there, in the deep grass, were the
polished bones Of those who had
challenged him. And if any attempt
ed to return after he had driven
them forth-they did not try a sec
ond time.
When Goblin caught the unmistak-
able strong scent of the stallion he
trotted out from the herd to find
him. He saw him up there on
hill-just where Banner would have
been-and with joyful nicker,
started toward him.
The Albino came down to meet
him.
Goblin, a creature of fire and mag
netism himself, felt the oncoming
stallion in terms Of voltage, and it
was almost too much to be borne.
Goblin came to a stop. It occurred
to him that he was going in the
wrong direction. But he held his
ground.
He watched. He had never seen or
felt anything like that before. The
stallion was so contained, his power
was so gathered and held within him
that he was all curves. His great
neck was so arched that his chin
was drawn in and under, the crest
of his head was high and rounded
with long ears cooked like spear
points. His face was terrifying
that. ferocious expressionl Those
fiery eyesl And his huge, heavily
muscled legs curving high, flung for
ward so that the great body fioated
through the air-then the massive
hoofs striking and bounding up from
the earth with sledge-hammer blows
that made the hills tremble and
echoed like thunder in the valleyI
The Goblin still held his ground.
The AIbino slowed his pace, came
closer-stopped. Their noses were
about two feet apart.
For as long as a minute they faced
and eyed each other.
They were the same. Trunk and
branch of the same tree. And from
that confusing identity-each seeing
himself as in a distorted mirror
there famed terror and fury.
No self-respecting stallion would
deign to attack a mere yearling, or
even to take him seriously enough to
administer heavy punishment. But
suddenly the Albino raised his right
hoof and gave one terrible paving
stroke accompanied by a short
grunting screech of unearthly fury.
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