The Black Stallion by Walter Farley , film by Carroll Ballard The Black Stallion part 1 , 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 My first memory of a horse is in Langata. I was four years old. Angry after being told off by my mother, I ran off into the small forest at the back of our house, full of blue gums, crunching leaves and twigs under my sandals as I ran. After a few minutes, I was lost and so anger turned to anxiety. I decided to make for home, a wooden house on stilts. I thought I could see it, visible between tree trunks in the distance. It wasn't our house. It was a neighbour's. At the back he had a horse. He gave me a sugar lump. I held my hand, but as the horse's lips puckered my hand curled away and the horse inadvertently gave my finger a bite with its flat teeth. It drew blood and crushed the top of a finger. When I was seven or eight I started horse-riding lessons in a paddock. "You have a very good seat." said the teacher. I liked t
Left wing commentary from the heart and the head