Man O'War (14 page)

Danny said, “But it will be different when you get up on his back.”

“I'm afraid it will,” the ex-jockey said.

“Have you broken all the other colts?”

Vititoe nodded. “He's the only one left.”

“When will you get up on him?”

“I'm not sure.”

“It'll be quite a ride,” Danny said, wondering at the absence of envy in his voice. Hadn't he always dreamed of riding Man o' War?

After a little while Vititoe said, “I'm going to turn him loose in the paddock now, Danny. He can't hurt himself there either, and we'll see what he does.”

The big colt was all fire once Danny set him free to run in the paddock. He tried to spit out the irritating rubber bit in his mouth. He plunged to rid himself of the saddle pad and girth band. Once he got down and rolled, his legs pawing the air in his fury. But most of the time he raced from one end of the paddock to the other, his tail fanning the wind.

Vititoe saw only the beauty of Man o' War and said, “He'll make a runner, that one will. He'll be worth all the time we've spent on him. But like you said, Danny, it's going to be quite a
ride,” He was silent then, watching every moment of the plunging red colt.

For several days Vititoe did nothing more with Man o' War than add the weight of the light saddle to his back. There were no stirrups to jangle and upset the colt, so he showed no objection to it. It was never an easy job putting the tack on Man o' War, but he seemed to be getting used to it once it was on.

Watching him in the paddock, Vititoe said, “It's as if he's determined to fight discipline every step of the way … but once he knows he can't get away with it, he's got brains enough to accept what's in store. He'll be hard to beat if his jockey is smarter than he is.”

Then, finally, came the morning to ride Man o' War. Danny's stomach was in knots. He didn't think there would ever be another day in his life to equal this one. The time had come when the colt he had first seen standing on unsteady legs beside Mahubah would be asked to accept a rider. From this day on, Man o' War's racing career would be before him.

“Don't go trying anything funny,” Danny told his colt while waiting for Harry Vititoe to mount. The ex-jockey was talking to Feustel and Mr. Riddle. They were all there, everybody concerned with the big stable … all the other grooms, the stable manager, the exercise boys. They had come to see the colt who had been a demon to break. This was Man o' War with the hot blood of Fair Play and Hastings.

They were away from the barns where there'd be less chance of anyone's getting hurt when Man o' War jumped. Everyone took it for granted he'd do that once Vititoe was on his back. The colt wasn't going to do anything the easy way, ever. Danny leaned part of his weight on the saddle, hoping it would help make Vititoe's job easier. Man o' War shifted uneasily, but Danny thought his nervousness was due to the number of
people around rather than to any objection to the extra weight.

Finally the ex-jockey came over to the boy and the colt. He patted Man o' War on the neck but his brow was furrowed and his voice anxious as he said, “I want you to have help this morning, Danny.” He snapped a second lead shank to the halter beneath the bridle and handed it to another groom. “Both of you keep hold of him,” he ordered. “A good hold.”

Vititoe moved to the colt's side and leaned heavily on the saddle. Man o' War reared, his great body twisting and turning, while Danny and the other groom gave him all the lead shank he needed.

When he came down and was still again, Vititoe said, “He's going to dump me, all right. He's smart enough to do it, and big enough.”

Once more the ex-jockey leaned his weight on the saddle. Man o' War went up again, bolting forward this time and almost pulling the lead shank out of Danny's hands.

“Take a better hold, Danny,” Vititoe said when the colt was quiet. “I'm going up on him now. Keep him on the ground if you can. If I can manage to stay on him, most of our troubles may be over.”

“We'll hold him,” Danny said. But he wasn't certain they'd be able to keep Man o' War under control at all. He knew the signs, and his colt was determined to have nothing to do with a man on his back at this moment. “He's awfully hot,” he warned Vititoe. “Maybe we should wait …”

The ex-jockey had his left leg bent so that Louis Feustel could boost him into the saddle. “I might stop with any other colt,” he said, “but not this one. If I did there'd be no end to it.”

Then Harry Vititoe was in the saddle, his legs drawn up, his body balanced. He had only a fraction of a second to wait before
Man o' War squealed and bolted. The groom helping Danny jumped away to avoid getting hurt. Man o' War twisted in midair, and Danny's lead shank was torn from his hands. Man o' War made another lightning jump, coming down with both forefeet rigid. Harry Vititoe went flying from the saddle and crashed into Danny. Together they went down, rolling in the dirt.

When Danny got up, he saw Man o' War running loose, his mane and tail flying, and headed for the racetrack all by himself!

Harry Vititoe was getting to his feet, but it didn't occur to Danny to help him. Like everyone else, he ran after the runaway colt. Man o' War had already reached the racing strip, and everybody there was aware of his presence. A colt loose on the track at this time of year was not too unusual.

All work was stopped to prevent any accident and possible injury. The older horses stopped breezing and galloping. Yearlings being schooled were taken away so that they would not become excited by the horse running loose. The racetrack at Saratoga was very still except for the drum roll of Man o' War's galloping hoofs as he rounded the first turn.

Danny watched him go.
You couldn't wait
, he thought.
You just couldn't wait
.

Stablemen had stationed themselves at various points on the racetrack, waiting for the big colt to slow down. They were patient, having no wish to excite Mahubah's colt any further. It was just a question of time before one of them caught him. He had no place to go except around the racetrack.

Fifteen minutes later it was Danny who successfully got hold of one of the dragging lead shanks. Man o' War was tired from his long run; he went along willingly as if nothing at all had happened.

Harry Vititoe's eyes were sheepish when he joined the others at the barn. “The next time it'll be different,” he said, not without confidence. “I don't like to be dumped so hard.” He rubbed the seat of his pants.

The crowd laughed at Vititoe's expense, and one groom said, “You'd better stay on him next time, Harry, or maybe you'll end up walkin' hots like the rest of us.”

Harry Vititoe had no intention of losing his private battle with Man o' War. He went back to the barn with Danny and helped the boy strip down and wash the big colt. Later he gave Man o' War a carrot.

“I'll stick on him. You'll see,” he told Danny.

The boy nodded in full agreement, but he wasn't sure of anything.

“He's the stronger,” the ex-jockey continued, “but I'm smarter. At least I ought to be.”

Danny nodded again.

“The trick is to kid a colt of this kind along,” Vititoe said as if to get his own thoughts in hand rather than to convince Danny of his ability to ride Man o' War. “I'll outsmart him. I'll convince him that I'm stronger than he is.”

Danny placed a blanket over Man o' War. “His dumping you today won't help any,” he said quietly.

“No,” Vititoe admitted, “it won't. But he's not a mean colt, just something of a rebel. He wants to make it plain that he
prefers to be left alone to go his own way.”

“You fight, and he'll fight back,” Danny reminded Vititoe.

“I don't intend to fight him. There's a big difference between firmness and cruelty. But he must be made to do right.”

“Maybe he doesn't know what
right
is,” Danny suggested.

“I think he does. He's too smart not to know.” Vititoe fed Man o' War another piece of carrot. “Tomorrow he'll learn I mean business … tomorrow and the day after that, and the one after that. It's only a question of time before he realizes we're in control, not he.”

“I hope so,” Danny said. “I sure hope so.”

Harry Vititoe was back early the next morning and again he was thrown by Man o' War. But the colt didn't break loose this time, for Danny had all the help he needed in keeping hold of him.

Louis Feustel and Mr. Riddle were very much concerned. The big colt, it seemed, was not going to submit to being ridden. He fought from the moment the saddle was put on until he was worn down from twisting, rearing, and jumping. Only then would he allow Harry Vititoe to remain on his back. It was as if he knew everyone was too tired and breathless to go on with him.

Vititoe would sit quietly in the saddle, talking to Man o' War and rubbing his neck gently, letting him get used to the extra weight on his back. Unlike the others, Vititoe seemed confident that soon Man o' War would submit to full control.

After each back-breaking session, the ex-jockey would tell Danny, “He's coming along, getting a little better every day. Don't worry.”

Danny couldn't see much progress being made but he never mentioned it. If Vititoe thought they were getting somewhere, he didn't want to be the one to discourage him. He felt most riders would have quit with Man o' War long ago.

“This colt will never in his life be saddled easy,” Vititoe told Danny one day. “He'll always put up some kind of a token battle for his freedom whenever he's made ready. But like I've said many times, he's smart enough to know we're too many and too strong for him. He'll never forget these past few weeks, but he'll make a good racehorse. I'm sure of it.”

Danny watched Man o' War take the carrot Vititoe offered him. Maybe the man knew what he was talking about. Maybe he did. One thing sure, he wasn't going to quit … and perhaps Man o' War knew that, too.

By the end of the week Man o' War's battles had become less furious and of shorter duration. He allowed Vititoe to remain on his back while Danny led him around the large walking ring beyond the barns. All the other spectators watched from a distance, so more than anyone else in the stable Danny was aware of the progress Harry Vititoe was finally making in the schooling of Man o' War.

He listened to the man's never-ending chatter as Vititoe talked to the colt, soothing him, comforting him. And when the rider wasn't talking, he was singing to Man o' War to get the colt used to his voice and to noise and commotion. Sometimes Vititoe would slap Man o' War gently on the neck and rump and brush his heels lightly against the flanks. At first the big colt reared with every touch of Vititoe's hand and heel, but eventually he became accustomed to them.

Then one morning Vititoe ordered Danny to move away from Man o' War and join the others who were watching. Standing next to Louis Feustel, Danny followed the big colt's movements as Vititoe guided him around the ring. The colt stopped from time to time and Danny thought there would surely be trouble. But Man o' War always moved forward again at Vititoe's firm but gentle urging.

“He's learning fast now,” Louis Feustel told Mr. Riddle.
“Maybe we're going to have another racehorse after all.”

“You had doubts, Louis?” Mr. Riddle asked.

“I sure did,” the trainer answered.

“You'll have him for training before long,” Mr. Riddle said. “Then the real work will start.”

Danny shook his head. As if what Harry Vititoe was doing wasn't real work! It seemed to him that anything to come would be easy compared to this. Once they got Man o' War on the track, he would train himself!

Danny learned that Vititoe had no intention of hurrying the colt to the racetrack. Instead he kept Man o' War in the large walking ring, making him go from a jog to a trot, and often using an older horse in the lead.

“Gives him some company, Danny,” Vititoe said. “And he's ready for it now. Helps to keep him calm.”

There were times when Man o' War gave his rider trouble, but Vititoe stayed on him. Finally the ex-jockey had him changing direction about the ring, first in a trot, then in a canter. “But I never can relax on him,” he confided to Danny one afternoon. “He knows what I'm doing every step of the way. If I make one mistake, he'll dump me.”

“But he's not fighting you,” Danny said.

“No, just ready to test my seat and hands, that's all. But usually I'm ready for him.”

“He's bridlewise now.”

“Easy for a smart colt to learn. He knows what the bridle is for, all right.”

“Are you taking him on the track soon?” Danny asked, making no attempt to conceal his eagerness now that the time had almost come.

Vititoe rubbed Man o' War's head. “I think so, Danny,” he answered quietly. “He's not apt to hurt anyone or himself now. We'll move out there tomorrow.”

The following morning Man o' War went to the track for the first time under a rider. Harry Vititoe was balanced in the saddle and ready for almost anything. Danny was at the colt's head when they stopped at the gap in the fence. For a while they watched the other horses at work and gave Man o' War a chance to get used to all the noise and confusion.

“Just let him have a good look around,” Vititoe said quietly.

“He didn't see much of this last time he was out here by himself,” Danny answered.

Man o' War's eyes roamed. First he seemed to be looking at the huge grandstand as if expecting to find it filled rather than empty. Then he turned his gaze on the judges' pavilion before moving it on to the track itself. Maybe it was the sight of a set of yearlings coming down the stretch that had attracted his attention. He watched them gallop by, their action quick and nervous, with some moving from one side of the track to the other, and shying and bolting.