He moved across the arm, straddling it with his legs locked together beneath him and with his hands moving along in front. Only once did he look down at the stallion and pit fifteen feet below; he saw that Flame’s haunches had sunk deeper into the quicksand with the stallion’s renewed, futile efforts to escape. Steve’s movements became faster until he was within reaching distance of the hanging chain.

Drawing the heavy chain to him until he had hold of the iron band at its end, he removed the rope about his neck and doubled it, drawing the two ends through the band and tying them securely to it. He now had a long noose hanging from the end of the chain. Slowly he lowered the chain, then flung the rope down to the rim of the pit. That done, he made his was back quickly along the arm and shinnied down the pole.

Upon reaching the ground, he ran to where he’d thrown his rope. He picked it up and went toward the stallion, his strides slower now and more cautious. Taking hold of the doubled rope, he separated the two parts, forming a noose. Then he turned to the stallion, knowing that the most difficult job of all was ahead. For now he had to get the noose about Flame’s girth!

Carrying the rope, Steve approached the red stallion. For the first time he was able to get a good look at the raw red mouth now speckled with white foam, the matted blood upon the long mane. The stallion shifted his eyes toward him, and there was a brightness, a savageness to them that sent cold tremors through the boy’s body.

The red stallion’s forefeet slipped closer to the edge of the pit and his furious pounding began again. But powerful though his legs were, they could not free him from the deadly quicksand that had pulled its prey down as far as the flanks.

Steve twisted the doubled rope nervously, parted the two pieces again, then pulled the rope as taut as he could, swinging the chain far over the plunging stallion. Now for the hardest part of the job!

He took a step toward the stallion, knowing he would have no more than a foot of clearance between himself and Flame’s head when he tried to get the lower part of the noose under the horse. And as Steve neared the stallion, the noose stretched wide, he began talking to Flame in a soft voice, not betraying his fear.

“You’re my horse, Flame. I’ll help you, if you let me,” he said, knowing it would be the sound of his voice and not his words that might convince Flame he was there to help him. “You need me now.… ”