Jed got to the top of the mountain and sat down to rest. The July sun had made him hot.
It had been a long walk to the top and he was tired. He knew the horse he was trying to capture could not be too far away. He looked at the mountain and the valleys below, searching footmarks left by the horse.
Then he saw the marks going down the other side of the mountain. He must capture the horse. He knew better men than he had tried. Tom Raglan, the best rancher in the state, had tried with the help of his cowboys.
But they had not been able to capture it. It had gotten away from others, too. They all said it was too wild. It could not be captured.
After a slow, painful walk down the mountain, Jed came to a cool-looking river. He drank the clear water.
Further down the valley he saw the black horse. It stood under a tree out of the sun. Jed moved closer, then hid behind a tree to watch. It was the biggest and blackest and blackest he had ever seen.
Jed knew all about horse. He had grown into a man caring for them. He had never earned more than ’10 but he had dreams: If he could get a male and female house and 10 hectares of land, he could sell horses. That would be all the happiness Jed wanted.
Night came. The big black house moved from under the tree and began to eat grass near the river. Jed watched again. A few hours later, he found a soft place in the ground. He placed his head against an old fallen tree and slept.
The next day he woke with the sun. His eyes searched for the horse, and there it was, grazing. Jed saw how it ate, then lifted its head and looked all around. It was the mark of the wild, always looking for hidden danger.
Jed started to walk toward the horse. The horse stopped eating and looking at Jed. Jed’s heart began to beat heavily. Men had said the horse was a killer. Still, he walked closer.
Fifteen meters away from the horse Jed stopped. The horse had lifted its front feet high in the air, then placed them heavily back on the ground. Jed moved closer. He talked to the horse in a soft voice.
Then, with a loud scream, the horse turned and ran down the valley. Jed sank to the ground wet with excitement. He had done what no man had done.
He had almost touched the wild horse. The animal was not a killer. If it had been, Jed would be dead now.
For six days he followed the horse. He rested when the horse rested. Jed did not like the land they were in now. The sides of the valley were high and filled with big rocks. Few trees were around. And the bottom of the valley was soft and wet.
Jed watched the horse a while, and then lay down to sleep.
In the middle of the night, he was awakened by thunder and rain. He walked up the rocks until he found a dry hole, safe from the rain, and he slept again.
The next day was cold and wet. Heavy rains had softened the bottom of the valley. He followed the house most of the day. The wet valley was the only place it could walk now.
The sides of the valley had gotten higher. Toward evening he saw it again. But this time there was fear in its face. He stopped and watched. The horse’s nose was smelling the air. It smelled danger. It smelled danger.
Jed thought of wild animals, a wildcat or bear maybe. He pulled his knife from his pants. He looked among the rocks but saw nothing.
He began walking toward the horse. The wildcat could have been on either side of the valley. He walked slowly, trying to watch both sides at the same time.
Slowly he came to the horse’s side. Jed kept watching the rocks. If the cat was going to attack, it would do it now. He felt the excitement of danger.