Read Man O'War for Free Online

them.
    â€œWon’t be long now, Danny. All we got to do is make sure she lays down near the center of her stall an’ not up against the wall where it would be hard to help her if she does need a hand. But she probably won’t be gettin’ herself into any trouble. Nature will take care of everything.”
    The boy tried to stop worrying about Mahubah but it wasn’t easy. Then she finally went down very carefully, right in the center of her stall. This was it. This was the beginning of life for Mahubah’s colt.
    From the far end of the barn there was a scurrying of feet as several men ran down the corridor and came to a stop before the stall. “Any trouble?” one asked urgently.
    â€œNone at all,” the foaling man answered without taking his eyes off Mahubah. He watched every movement to make sure. He watched one tiny foot protrude from Mahubah and waited anxiously for the other to appear. Becoming a little worried, he opened the stall door and went quietly inside. Making out the tip of the second small hoof, he took hold of it and pulledgently until it, too, was free. The knees of the foal followed next and then came the tiny muzzle against the forearm.
    â€œJus’ look at those big nostrils!” Danny wanted to shout but didn’t. It was best to remain quiet, very quiet.
    The old groom waited, holding his breath as he always did for the foal’s head to appear and the eyes to look into his for the very first time.
    Mahubah moved hard and then he was staring at the foal’s small, wedge-shaped head. Just look at that star! It’s diamond-shaped like his daddy’s and granddaddy’s. They’ve marked him, all right … or is it a filly? Hold on! Here come the shoulders. They’re big shoulders. This is no small foal but one that’s big-boned and heavy. Easy, Mahubah. Easy, girl. It won’t be much longer now. There, there come the hips and the rest of him, right down to that little tuft of tail.
    The navel cord broke and the foal lay still beside his mother. It was a colt, all right, just as the boy had wanted. The old man rubbed the foal gently with a soft rag, moving him a little so Mahubah could nuzzle or lick him without getting up. He wanted her to stay down and rest as long as possible.
    Turning back to the foal, he wiped the big nostrils clean of fluid and membrane. He watched the colt breathe deeply and found himself breathing in slow rhythm with him. He painted the navel cord with an antiseptic, for there must be no infection. And all the while the colt’s eyes were open, watching him. They were big, wonderful, inquisitive eyes, not at all timid like most foals’. This one was born unafraid.
    Finally the foaling man stepped back, cleaning the straw and taking his pails with him. He stopped outside the stall door and watched with the others. There was little more that he could do. The rest was pretty much up to the colt, and that was the way it would be for the rest of his life. Mahubah’snewly born son either had greatness in him or he didn’t have it … only time would tell.
    The colt got to his feet while his mother was still lying down. He stood on awkward, disobedient legs, wavering triumphantly. He fell down but tried again immediately, placing two perfectly formed front hoofs in the straw and then quickly getting his hind hoofs upright. This time he stayed up on his overlong legs, his bright eyes turned on his mother as if he were impatiently waiting for her to appease his hunger.
    The nursing instinct was his strongest basic impulse, and he needed no urging, no help from outsiders. As soon as Mahubah got to her feet he went to her, walking on legs that were braced at unbelievable angles … and yet to everybody who was watching they were the straightest legs in the world.
    â€œWhy, he hardly wobbles,” one man said. “Just look at him.”
    â€œBigger than most,” the foaling