Alec tossed on his cot that night, as the ship plowed through heavy, pitching seas. Every wave seemed destined to send him rolling off his bed. The horses were finding it difficult, too, and their poundings made the hold a bedlam. Alec could hear the Black pawing at the floor of his stall.

It was still rough the next morning, and continued to be rough throughout the day. The horses began to get sick and the grooms were kept busy. Only the Black remained well. He still held his head as high as ever, and moved gingerly about in his stall.

Night fell and the ocean became wilder. Bolts of lightning flashed in the sky and a gale whistled outside. Alec thought of the Drake and the storm that had sent it down to the bottom. He rose from his cot and went to the stall door. The Black was awake, and pushed his nose toward the boy.

“Not frightened, are you, fella?” A streak of lightning made the hold as bright as day, and there was a loud crack as it struck the water. The ship quivered. Alec’s fingers tightened on the Black’s mane. Again darkness, and the ship lurched forward. The engines throbbed and once more took up their steady chant.

The Black’s eyes were moving about restlessly. He shook his head and his foreleg pawed into the bedding of the stall. Alec couldn’t blame him for being frightened. He reached in his pocket for some sugar and held it out to the stallion. The Black moved away and pounded harder than ever.

The ship staggered as a wave crashed against it. The grooms were rising from their cots, awakened by the storm. The other horses were quiet—most of them too sick to cause any trouble. Alec was afraid the Black would get out of control. He opened the door and went inside. The stallion backed into a corner. Alec held out the sugar. “Easy, Boy,” he said. The Black’s head was high in the air. He stopped his pounding as Alec put a hand on his neck. He reached down for the sugar. “That’s a good fella!” said Alec. Slowly the Black quieted under his hand.

Hours passed and dawn broke in the sky. The wind lessened and a torrent of rain poured down. One of the grooms came over to the Black’s stall. “Isn’t he sick at all?” he asked.

“A little,” Alec answered, “but mostly he’s just nervous, though.”

The man looked at the Black admiringly. “He certainly must have an iron constitution to go through seas like this without being sick. He’s the only animal on board that isn’t!”

Later in the day Alec began to feel queasy in his stomach. Desperately he fought against it. At last he had to admit that he was seasick. “Guess you’re a better man than I am, Black,” he said.

The next few days Alec didn’t care whether he lived or died. Most of the grooms were sick, too, so they didn’t pay much attention to him. The ship’s first mate, who acted as doctor on the ship, came down, and tried to make him go to his cabin, but sick as he was, he realized that he couldn’t leave the Black.