Pony Club Cup (Woodbury Pony Club Book 1)

by Josephine Pullein-Thompson

  “Yes, of course. Tina’s got it.”

  David left Tina and Lizzie to re-organize Rupert and told Alice trot on. Saffron trotted, stiff-backed, with a jerky stride and his head carried so high that his face was horizontal.

  “It sets my teeth on edge to look at him,” said David. “Bring him over here and walk round me in a small circle. Now try to take up a contact with his mouth. No, that’s no good. Try again at the halt. Use your legs. On a pony like this you must use your legs at every stride, very gently. Never surprise him with them. Now feel his mouth again. Use the legs and try to bring his head down. Good. That’s the idea. Now he’s accepting the bit. See if you can move off into a walk. Use the reins and legs together.”

  Alice managed a few strides at the walk before Saffron turned inside out and she had to halt and put him back on the bit. She was delighted to find that she could persuade him to change and she walked and halted happily, but the pony club members were very bored.

  Jennifer produced a Cranford Vale fixture card and showed it to James. Rupert was circling, trying to find out if the dropped noseband made any difference. Netti and Lynne were giggling over something that had happened at school, while Paul and Sarah were engaged in a mounted fencing match, using their whips as foils.

  “Come over here and look at this pony,” shouted David, suddenly becoming aware that he was losing control. “You can learn a lot from watching other people’s ponies. One day you may have to ride a stargazer. This pony was probably born with a weak neck and not much muscle along the crest, but whoever broke him in didn’t notice, didn’t take extra care to keep him calm and quiet until his neck muscles developed. He was obviously hotted-up and galloped about, he became frightened of his mouth and found he could escape the bit by carrying his head high. Then, the more he stargazed, the more he developed the muscles along the bottom of his neck, which we don’t want, while the ones we do want, the ones that give a pony a beautiful arched neck, which enable him to carry his head correctly and proudly, were allowed to wither away. Now he’s spoiled and it’s going to take months of patient schooling to change the shape of his neck so that he carries his head in the right place comfortably and naturally.”

  David patted Saffron’s shoulder. “You’ll have to keep him very calm, Alice, and remember that every time gets his head up he’s making those lower muscles strong. It might be an idea to try him in the vulcanite pelham. Where’s the pony that ought to be wearing a snaffle?”

  Lesley asked, “Do you mean Stardust?”

  “Yes, she’s the one. You two change your bits over while I look at Harry.”

  Tina hurried over to help them. This was turning out quite an interesting rally, she thought, unbuckling Saffron’s cheekpiece. She wasn’t just standing about and she liked hearing what was wrong with the different ponies and how to cure it. She listened to what David was telling poor Harry.

  “A gentle squeeze, and don’t clutch at the reins. Look, you must realise that if you let it come to a trial of strength he’ll win. He’s far, far stronger than you are. You have to control a pony by teaching him to answer your signals, by keeping him calm and balanced so that he’s in a position to answer them, and then rewarding him when he does so. Your pony knows the signals, he’s well-balanced enough to answer, but he isn’t calm. All your bits and nosebands have driven him wild with frustration and because his whole life has become a pulling match, he’s never rewarded. He can’t change this; ponies don’t have the sort of brains that can work out what’s gone wrong and what ought to be done about it. That’s the rider’s job. Now, it takes two to pull and you’re not going to be one of them. Trot around the school, if he starts going too fast, circle or change the direction, don’t pull.”

  A worried looking Hanif was soon circling feverishly as Jupiter, delighted to have his head, tore round and round.

  “Do you know how to make a half-halt?” asked David.

  “No.”

  “Can any of you tell him?” asked David, observing the bored faces of the rest of the ride.

  “Yes, it’s when you nearly halt, but not quite,” answered Jennifer.

  “That’s the idea. By using your legs, back and seat and your hands very lightly, you go through the motions of halting, but the moment the horse obeys you, by putting his hindlegs under him and shortening or collecting, you reward him by giving with the hands. There is no change of pace. With a difficult pony like Harry’s you can make a dozen half-halts in one circuit of the school. And, because you are rewarding him each time he obeys he will gradually come to accept your control. Do you understand, Harry? You do anything but pull.”

  “Yes. I’ll do my best,” answered Hanif in a dispirited voice. This advice didn’t seem to be working either, he thought, and the circling was making him giddy.

  “Very green ponies like Rupert’s, or very stiff ones like Lizzie’s, can’t half-halt, but the rest of you should use it to get your pony’s hindlegs under him and to increase impulsion. Right, form up the ride and let’s see if things go better now.”

  The well-behaved ponies cantered and circled in turn while David roared at the riders to ‘sit deep’. When Stardust’s turn came she was greeted with a shout of triumph. “Look at that pony, she’s hardly overbending at all and she’s got far more impulsion.”

  Hanif and Alice, struggling to carry out their instructions, were quite pleased to find themselves ignored as David concentrated on the rest of the ride. He had them all riding a large serpentine, three loops covering the whole school. As they crossed the centre line they were supposed to straighten their ponies and then take up the correct bend for the next loop. Jennifer was roared at for holding her pony out with the outside rein so that he always had the wrong bend. All Lizzie’s loops looked like triangles instead of circles and Sarah and Netti were told they were idle while Paul was sitting crookedly, hanging over one side and trying to force his pony into the correct bend, instead of sitting deep and trying to influence the hindlegs.

  Lynne, holding on to the pommel and shrieking that no one could be expected to sit to Berry’s trot, simply followed the pony in front, and James, who was also bouncing about and looking hot, was shouted at for always being late in changing his bend and not anticipating.

  A general cry of relief went up when at last they were allowed to walk.

  “Well, we haven’t much time left, and I suppose I’d better see what you’re like at jumping,” said David. “I need some strong characters to haul poles and drums. Could the less strong hold the ponies?”

  Except for Jennifer, who immediately offered to hold Ferdinand, everyone wanted to build jumps. Hanif found himself with the Roberts’s ponies. Berry took an instant dislike to Jupiter, stamping her fore-foot and squealing if he dared to look at her, and Hanif, being pulled in several directions at once, had to be rescued by Tina.

  “She’s always awful with strange ponies,” shouted Lynne, happily engaged in dragging poles from the Land Rover. “Why don’t you ride her round, Tina?”

  A delighted Tina rushed round trying to find a crash cap to fit her. Sarah’s was almost the right size and she mounted and rode proudly away round the field.

  Hanif watched dismally as the course emerged. The jumps were nothing like the size he was expected to jump at home. They were only about two-feet-nine in height, but there were all the usual fatal twists and turns. But, when the course was ready and everyone was mounting, David drove over in the Land Rover and said, “We’ve put three cavaletti in the centre of the school for the lunatic ponies. I don’t think it’s any use trying to jump them at the moment. You’re just going to undo any improvement you’ve made this morning.”

  The other riders, excitedly shortening their stirrups, looked at the banned three with shocked pity. But Hanif was ashamed at his feeling of relief and Alice announced firmly that jumping inside out would be no fun at all and she liked cavaletti work.

  They trotted round and round, changing the rein at intervals. At first the pon
ies were excited. Saffron stargazed, Jupiter tried to rush at the poles and fling himself over, Rosie tried to avoid the whole business by charging them, but gradually the steady trotting round and round calmed them, they began to lower their heads, round backs and even Rosie, to Rupert’s delight, produced a cadenced trot.

  When they felt the ponies had done enough they stopped and watched the jumping. It was a good course, very solid­looking, with the pig trough, tyres, straw bales and a log making the various arrangements of poles and drums more interesting. But David didn’t sound very satisfied with the standard of riding.

  “You’re all far too busy,” he was shouting. “You don’t have to get the pony over. Your job is to get him going in a balanced manner and with plenty of impulsion. Let him do the jumping. Sit still. How can a pony concentrate on jumping if you’re kicking and steering right up to the fence? Get him going properly before you put him at it. You all ride like beginners. I don’t want to see your aids. Use your legs quietly, in time with his stride.”

  Finally he sent them round the course one behind the other, with instructions to keep going and jump every fence three times.

  “They do look a bit wild,” observed Hanif, watching them critically. Alice felt a huge pang of envy. She did long to be flying round there too.

  As David dismissed the ride and then limped to the Land Rover, Mrs Rooke came hurrying down the field.

  “I’ve an announcement to make, David,” she called. “Quite an important one.”

  “You carry on,” answered David, going through the awkward, twisting motions that would get him into the driver’s seat.

  “Listen, everybody,” Mrs Rooke commanded the members. “As you know, the pony club is divided into Regions, Areas and Branches and I’ve just received a letter from our Area Representative telling me about a new competition which is to take place these holidays. It’s intended for younger members and those who don’t have good enough ponies for the main inter-branch events; in fact, anyone representing their branch in the horse trials or Prince Philip is ineligible. It’s to be called the Area Cup and each team competes in all the phases: dressage, cross-country, turnout and quiz, but there are five members in each team and only four perform in each phase. I thought it sounded just the thing for us.”

  “These holidays?” asked David from the Land Rover.

  “That’s right.”

  “Not a chance. None of them can ride a circle yet, much less a dressage test, and their jumping’s abysmal. We don’t want to disgrace the Woodbury the moment we take over. Give me a year and I’ll produce a reasonable team.” He started the engine. “Goodbye everyone. See you next week. And please school those ponies.”

  He drove away up the field, leaving them all too surprised to shout their thank yous for the rally.

  “Well, he won’t see me next week,” said Jennifer indignantly.

  “Oh dear, he was rather brusque. I do hope he hasn’t overdone things. He did look rather grey,” worried Mrs Rooke, starting after the departing Land Rover. “I hope he’s well enough to take on the job of D.C.”

  “Yes, and some of us could perfectly well go in for this cup,” Jennifer went on, her indignation rising. “I know half the ride was completely useless. There ought to have been another instructor to stop them holding things up and spoiling it for the rest of us, but we could make up a team of five, Mrs Rooke.”

  “You, James, Sarah,” agreed Mrs Rooke, “and then I suppose Netti and perhaps a Roberts. Yes, I’ll talk it over with David again when he’s less tired.”

  The other members were looking at each other despondently.

  “He doesn’t think much of us,” said Lizzie sadly.

  “He thinks we’re dim.”

  “Dim and wet.”

  “Well, I’m afraid we didn’t put on a very good show,” James admitted solemnly.

  The D Ride had finished earlier and only Oliver Wheeler waited in the yard. Everyone else had gone home.

  “We had a great time,” he announced. “Hobbit won the Handy Pony and Musical Sacks and my lot won the Relay. How did you get on?”

  “Ghastly,” answered Rupert sliding off Rosie. “My legs are in a state of collapse from overwork and I don’t think this silly pony’s improved at all.”

  “It takes time,” Lizzie told him. “And the noseband did help a bit.”

  Hanif dismounted. “Would it be all right to eat lunch here, before starting home?” he asked Lynne.

  “Yes, of course. Would you like to water your pony at the trough? It’s over there. And, if you haven’t got a headcollar I’ll lend you Berry’s and you can tie him up while you eat.”

  “Thanks.” Hanif took off his crash cap and rumpled his thick, blue-black hair. “What about the noseband, Rupert? Would you like to keep it for a bit?” he asked.

  “Well, yes, if you don’t need it. Can I borrow it until Wednesday? If it really works I may be able to persuade my parents to buy me one, but it won’t be easy. They’re broke at the moment.”

  “What about your pelham?” Alice asked Lesley.

  “I don’t care one way or the other. I can’t see that it made much difference to Stardust.”

  “Well, if you really don’t mind, can I keep it?” asked Alice. “I think it really does make quite a big difference to Saffron.”

  Only Hanif and Alice stayed to eat their lunches. Tina wished she had thought of bringing hers. I will next week, she decided, as she bicycled down the lane behind Wheelers. Everyone was much friendlier this time and Lynne let me ride Berry.

  “Do you live a long way away too?” asked Hanif, as, with the ponies tied up and munching the wisps of hay scattered over the barn floor, he and Alice collapsed on straw bales and unpacked their food.

  “Yes, Darkwood Lane. It’s on the other side of Woodbury, but my aunt’s taught me all the short cuts so it’s a lovely ride. All woods and fields until you get to Four Cross.”

  Hanif, looking at Alice’s face, decided that he liked her. She wasn’t a pink and white English blonde like the Wheelers. Her hair was dark gold, her skin brownish, eyes dark blue. She had a big mouth, a straight nose and a decided expression. She looks Swedish, he thought.

  “I live at Coxwell,” he told her. “It’s not far from you so perhaps you’ll show me the good way home. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever get Jupe to ford the river so I came all the way by road.”

  3

  We Need Advice

  After the rally, Mrs Rooke was very anxious that Sarah should school.

  “David did ask that you should all train your ponies, and we do want you in top form!” she said. “I know there isn’t much time, but supposing I did persuade him to relent and at least consider entering for the Area Cup, you must have Chess going well. Perhaps you should go round to Mr Foster’s. I know the instruction’s not up to much, but you have the use of jumps and the dressage arena, and if you have your own pony they only charge a third of the cost of a proper lesson.”

  So, next morning, Sarah went off to the riding school, and Lesley, who had paid more attention to David’s advice than she had admitted, doubled the oats and nuts in Stardust’s feed and made two jumps out of straw bales and an old door. Later on, when Stardust had digested, she had pulled up her stirrups and tried going round the field at the gallop.

  “Inspire that pony,” David had said. “Don’t kick her, get her going with impulsion. She’s a nice-looking pony. She shouldn’t be dawdling along behind the bit. Go on, wake her up. Make something of her.”

  Well, at least he hadn’t told Sarah that she was a brilliant little rider. He had swept aside Mummy’s suggestion that Jennifer, James and Sarah were better than the rest. That had kindled a faint spark of hope in her. I’ll try for a week, she decided, and then, if he doesn’t notice, I’ll go back to hacking.

  Alice had shown Hanif the way home by the Four Cross bridle path, Waterford Farm and the woods. They hadn’t talked much because they had both been worn out by the rally, and she was very
surprised when Hanif telephoned next morning at breakfast-time.

  “Are you going to school today?” he asked, “because if you are, why not come over and ride in our field? I’ve some jumps and a school marked out. Jupiter keeps neighing. I think he’s missing his pony club friends.”

  “Oh, terrific,” said Alice, who knew that Aunt Margaret was sighing over the muddy track she was making in the paddock. “Shall I come as soon as I’ve groomed?”

  “Yes, that’ll be great.” Hanif sounded pleased. “See you.”

  When Alice arrived, Hanif was attempting to mount a spinning Jupiter. Saffron, excited by his lively companion, followed them out to the field stargazing horribly.

  “Oh, what lovely jumps,” Alice exclaimed, amazed at the sight of six professional-looking show jumps arranged in the centre of the field. “You are lucky.”

  “Am I?” asked Hanif, already hot and harassed by Jupiter’s behaviour. “My stepfather’s bought me a brilliant pony which I can’t ride and made me perfect show jumps which I can’t jump. Well, not properly. I crash over out of control.” He sounded very bitter and despairing.

  “Does he know anything about riding?” asked Alice, walking round the school and admiring the letters which marked it, neatly painted on white plastic buckets.

  “A bit. He belonged to the pony club when he was a boy. He was in the tetrathlon team. I think he was better at running and shooting and swimming than at riding, but good at all sports.”

  “Tough,” said Alice. “On you, I mean. Still, he seems very generous.”

  “Yes, but then I feel I’m letting him down,” explained Hanif. “If he gave me less I might not feel such a failure.”

  “Well, I’m afraid I’m a great trial to my relations too,” said Alice, glad to tell someone. “You see my aunt and uncle thought they had finished with children. Theirs are grown-up, the youngest is twenty, and now they’ve had to give me a home. My mother was an only child and father had this one, much older sister, so she feels she has to take me in. Things are a bit better now I’ve got Saffy. At least I can go for long rides. I’m not under my aunt’s feet all day.”