Steve waited until the horse had risen to his feet and had shaken himself before going to him. Anxiously he looked at the chest wound and to his relief found it to be still clean.

Gently Steve’s hand swept over the giant body until it came to rest upon the mane; then he stroked the slender neck and small head which had jerked up at his touch.

Flame’s flashing eyes turned from side to side, but he remained still; then, as though satisfied there was nothing to fear, he went back to his grazing.

Hour after hour Steve stayed with his horse, talking to him as though Flame understood everything he had to say. He walked with him about the valley while the sun moved slowly across the sky and began its descent. And, very often, as he looked at the glistening body beside him, studying the strong limbs and well-muscled withers, chest and shoulders, all of which indicated tremendous strength, and the sculptured head and neck that indicated a perfect breed, he thought of what it would be like to ride this horse. But he never let himself think of it too long or too often, for it was enough, at this moment, that he walked beside him. Yet he could dream—and dream he did as he watched the red stallion throughout the day. He saw himself riding Flame about the valley and, at times, could even feel the surge of the stallion’s giant muscles beneath his knees.

But with the setting of the sun behind the walls to the west, Steve left his horse.

I’ll leave everything here, he thought. I’ll be back in the morning. I’ll just take my blanket. Pitch will have enough food for both of us.

Steve went over to Flame, stood with him a few minutes more, then reluctantly turned toward the gorge that would take him back to Blue Valley. He hadn’t walked very far when he heard Flame’s shrill whistle and, turning, saw the stallion moving slowly toward him.

Steve stood still while the horse stopped to graze again. The boy’s eyes took in the ever-lengthening shadows, and he knew he had to go now if he was to get back to Pitch before dark. So, turning, he walked on. Behind him he could hear Flame’s hoofs as the stallion followed him.

Steve didn’t stop until he had reached the ascent to the gorge; then he turned and found Flame close behind him. Going up to him, he stroked the pink-skinned muzzle.

“I’ll be back, Flame,” he said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”