ginger's story - a prequel to black beauty

CHAPTER THREE- THE EVIL SAMSON!!

After a week I was brought to a man named Mr. Ryder and his evil son named Samson. Mr. Ryder had given up the hard part of the trade to his son Samson and to another experienced man named Matthew and he only came at times to oversee the work. Samson always drank and had always boasted that he never found a horse that could throw him. He never had any kindness in him or gentleness but only had a hard hand, hard voice, hard eyes, and I felt from the first time that what he wanted me was to wear all the spirit out of me.  He wanted me to become into a quiet, humble, obedient piece of horse flesh! If I did not do exactly what he wanted, he would put me out and make me run with a long rein in the training field till he had tired me out.  I knew he drank a good deal and the more he drank the worse it was for me. One day he had worked me hard in every way he could and when I laid down, I was tired, miserable and angry, it so seemed all hard. When he came, I only had an hours of rest.  He came with the saddle and a new kind of bit. I never knew how it came about. As soon as he mounted me on the training grounds, when something I did put him out of temper and he chucked me with the reins hard. This new bit was very painful and I had begun to rear up suddenly and had my I had my whole spirit set against him.  I began to kick and plunge and rear as I had never done before, and was a regular fight for a long time Samson stuck to the saddle and was punishing me cruelly with a whip and spurs.  My blood was thoroughly up and I cared for nothing he could do if I could get him off my back. At last I had pitched him off backwards, I had hear him fall and moan heavily, on the turf and without even looking back behind me, and I galloped off to the other side of the field. I saw him slowly rising form the ground and going to the stable. I was suspicious of him now.  I stood under an oak and watched, but nobody came to catch me; hours went by and the sun was very hot, the flies swarmed around me and landing on my bleeding flanks where the spurs had dug in.  I now became hungry, for I did not eat since the early morning. There was no grass even for a goose to live on in these meadow.  I was also wanting to lay down and rest but the saddle was strapped on tight, there was no comfort or water to drink. The afternoon wore on and the sun was becoming low. I saw the other horses being led inside the stable, and I knew they were getting a good feed. When the night had come I saw the old master come out with a sieve in his hand. He was a fine old gentlemen with quite white hair. I found his voice was what I should have known out of a thousand. His voice was not high, nor low but full clear and kindness and when he gave orders it was so steadily decided that everyone knew both horse and man that he should be obeyed. He came quietly along now and then shaking the oats about he had in the sieve and spoke gently and cheerfully to me "come along lassie, come along, come along, and come along." I stood still and let him come up to me for his voice took away my fears. He stood by patting and stroking me whilst I was eating and seeing the clots of blood on my sides. He seemed very vexed "poor lassie it was all bad business a bad business!” He then quietly took the reins from my back that was hooked on the saddle and kindly took me towards the stable. I felt the presence of Samson and tensed up ready to fight him if need be with my ear pinned back laying towards my neck as Samson approached the stable door. Mr. Ryder said to Samson “stand back, and keep out of her way; you've done enough of a bad days work for this little filly "Samson growled something about a vicious brute. My master said “hark ye! A bad tempered man will never make a good tempered horse. You've not learn your trade yet Samson." He then led me to my stall and took off the saddle and the bridle with his own two hands and tied me nicely up. Mr. Ryder then called for a bucket of warm water soap and a sponge.  He took off his coat and hung it on the rack, while the stableman held the pail Mr. Ryder sponged my sides for a good while so tenderly that he might of know how sore and bruised my sides felt. "Whoa! My pretty one. Stand still, stand still!" His voice did me good and the bathing was very comfortable. The skin was so broken out at the corners of my mouth that i could not eat the hay. The stalks would hurt me. My master looked at it closely, shook his head and told the man to fetch me a good bran mash and put some meal into it. How good it was, and so soft and healing to my mouth. My master stood by all the time I was eating, stroking me and talking to the man. Master said" If a high-melted creature like this can't be broken in by fair, means she'll never be good for anything. “After that day he came to see me and when my mouth healed the other breaker Job they all called him went on training me. He was so steady and thoughtful and I then soon learned what he wanted.