“Yes, he forgot his lunch.”
“Well, we’re going to begin by schooling, so perhaps some of you could mark out a school with the small drums. The flattest place you can find. Along the hedge, I should think.”
“The short sides will be up and down hill,” complained Paul.
“Only slightly. It won’t matter for the sort of schooling we’re going to do.”
James, groaning at the prospect of more schooling, insisted on pacing out the distances and the correct placing of the oil drums. Hanif, delighted at even a temporary reprieve from the horrors of the hill, helped him willingly. As they remounted, a mud-bespattered Rupert came galloping up the track.
“Sorry,” he said, dropping his rucksack beside the others. “I went up to the farm by mistake.”
“Well, now you’re all here, form up the ride and start walking round the school,” said David. “Then I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.”
James took the lead and the others followed him, grading themselves according to size. David settled himself on his shooting stick, and Tina, who’d given Berry back to Lynne, perched herself on the front bumper of the Land Rover and waited to see if she was needed.
“I decided on a cross-country course—it’s going to be a sort of introduction to cross-country riding—” said David, “because most of your ponies aren’t ready for show-jumping, which requires a fairly high degree of schooling. Cross-country, riding up and down hill and over rough going, popping over natural fences, is good for young horses. It muscles them up and improves their balance. Because you have plenty of space you don’t have to ask for total obedience and you don’t need collection, or at least until the fences become large and complicated. By choosing cross-country, I reckon we can improve every one of these ponies far more than if we had stayed in the paddock, schooling and jumping on the flat. Any questions?”
“Why do we have to school? Why not get going with the cross-country right away?” asked James.
“Because I have to make sure that you’re all riding properly and that the ponies are going well. It’s no fun riding an out-of-control pony downhill, so we’ve got to get them all going forward and on the bit before we begin. So, riding forward now. I want to see them all overtracking: that is, taking such a long energetic step with their legs that the hoof comes down on or in front of the hoofprint left by the fore-foot.” He paused and watched them.
“Rajah and Rosie aren’t overtracking, nor is Stardust, nor Chess, nor Banjo. Three of you are jogging. Only Ferdinand and Tristram are walking properly. Come on—legs. One at a time. Try and feel the pony’s stride and then fit your legs in to ask him for a longer step. We don’t want a hurried walk, but we do want an energetic one.”
When the lively ponies had been persuaded to calm down and everyone was overtracking in a determined manner, David told them to trot and they were soon circling and changing the rein and serpentining, with angry roars directed at those who let their ponies look the wrong way.
“It is tremendously important that a cross-country pony looks where he is going,” said David when he had halted them for a rest. “I know that some of the show-jumpers look the wrong way on corners, but you’ll generally find they’re beaten by the ones who are correctly bent when it comes to jumping off against the clock. The trouble is you all use your outside reins to hold the ponies out on corners and circles. You mustn’t. You’re making them look the wrong way.”
“But if I don’t, Ra just cuts in,” protested Lizzie.
“So does Berry.”
“All right, we’ll try a new exercise. Divide into two rides. James leads the bigger ponies, Netti the small ones. James, your lot are to make a circle in the other half of the school. I don’t want to be trampled on. The rest of you watch.”
When they were all circling at the walk, David told them to make the circle gradually smaller using only their outside reins and legs. “That’s the idea,” he said. “All right, that’s small enough. Now I want you to make it bigger, gradually using only the inside rein and leg. No outside hands, just the inside aids. See if you can do it.”
To their surprise all the riders found they could, and that by turning the ponies’ heads inwards and using the inside leg they could make the circles large again. David propped himself against the Land Rover and had his two rides circling in the two halves of the school. They tried at the walk and trot and were soon all patting their ponies enthusiastically.
“Now we’re going to canter,” said David. “Not a school canter but a cross-country one. It’s rather faster and freer. You sit forward, your weight in your stirrups and just above your saddle. You use the lower leg to keep the pony going with impulsion and on the bit. Your reins are shorter and your arms more extended. Don’t worry, it’s quite easy,” he added as some of the riders began to put themselves in strange positions. “Just pull up your stirrups a couple of holes, more if you ride very long, and we’ll try it out at the trot.”
“I shall probably end up in Woodbury,” Hanif told Alice as they stopped to alter their stirrups. “See you tomorrow morning, same time.”
“I’m going to turn Rosie uphill if she tries anything,” decided Rupert.
“The trouble about that is you have to come down again,” Hanif pointed out.
“I’ll dismount and lead her,” said Rupert.
David insisted on a very energetic trot. “Now that you’re riding short you can’t use your seats as a driving aid, and that’s a disadvantage,” he told them. “But you will be able to stay balanced and with your ponies up and down hill, over rough ground and over fences, which you can’t do if you’re riding long and sitting deep. It’s a different sort of riding, but we still want the ponies full of impulsion and going on the bit. You’ve got to use what leg you’ve got left over, but no kicking, Lesley.”
When he had them all trotting round in a very energetic manner, he told them to stand in their stirrups and pretend they were riding at the cross-country canter.
“James, not as high as that. Sharpen the angles of your heels, knees and hips, then you’ll come closer to the saddle.”
“Lizzie, you’re looking down, stiffening your elbows and resting your hands on the pony’s neck. Your weight must be over your stirrups. No pony can jump with the rider’s weight on his neck.”
“Lesley, that’s much better, but stop kicking. If she won’t obey your legs, use your whip. If you kick you’ll always have to kick. You’ve got to teach your pony to obey a proper leg aid.”
“Stop messing about at the back. Sit closer to your saddles, sharpen up those angles.”
Lynne and Sarah were tipping about and giggling helplessly as they tried to stand in their stirrups. Paul was crouched over Banjo’s neck and looked as though he were riding the final stages of a flat race.
“Rising trot,” ordered David. “Paul, you’re going ahead of your pony. Straighten up your back and push him ahead of you. This is something you could all think about,” he shouted. “You should always have the feeling that two-thirds of your pony is in front of you and only one behind. I’m sure that Paul, Lizzie, Rupert and Lesley feel the opposite. They’ve only got one-third in front and two-thirds trailing behind. But I want you all to try to recognise the feeling, because it’s one way of telling if a pony is going well.”
“Prepare to canter on. James, we want a brisk pace. Make the school bigger by going outside the drums and anyone who finds he’s catching the horse in front, go wide and pass on the outside. Remember, sit forward and ride forward. Canter on.”
Hanif had expected to be run away with at once, but, his surprise, Jupiter seemed quite content with the pace that James had set. They thundered round the school with David shouting at Lizzie to look up, to study the trees or the sky, instead of always the ground. At Lesley to chase the pony in front of her. At several people to sharpen the angles of their heels, knees and hips, and at everyone to use his or her legs.
The ponies were beginning to puff, when he
called James to change the rein, trotting at X and starting off on the other leg. Several people got angry yells because they let their ponies stumble into the trot, or kicked them into canter.
“We don’t want messy transitions,” roared David. “Ride them, you’ve got legs.”
Soon they were all flying round on the other rein, chasing each other energetically. The ponies were glad when the order came to walk.
“All right,” said David. “I think you’ve all got the idea. You can have a rest. Get off the ponies and give their backs a rest too.”
“That was great,” said Rupert, patting Rosie’s sweaty neck quite lovingly. “It’s the best she’s ever gone for me.”
“I’m still here, I can’t believe it,” observed Hanif. “Oh Jupe, you were a marvel of good behaviour.”
“Saffy went quite well too,” said Alice. “I think he likes the cross-country seat, especially at the canter.”
Then everyone began to complain about his or her aching legs, but they were very cheerful and even James’s solemn face wore a smile, while Lesley unbent enough to tell Alice that Stardust was a lot faster than she had thought.
After a few minutes, David interrupted the chatter. “I was pleased with the riders of the bigger ponies,” he said. “They were all working hard, but the four of you at the back weren’t doing so well. As I’ve said before, just because you’ve got nice easy ponies you think you can sit there having an easy time, but you can’t. You’re still passive riders. You can walk, trot and canter and stop more or less when you want to, but you don’t influence the way your pony walks, trots or canters. If you’re going to be any good you must start using your legs and your brains.” He eased himself off his shooting stick and stood up. “Now, we’re going on to the next stage and I’ll need some help with the flags.”
“Ferdie doesn’t mind flags—where do you want them put?” asked James.
“On the hillside in the next field. I’ll drive through and show you. Can someone take down the slip rails, please?”
In the second field the hill rose much more steeply, and the flat space along the floor of the valley was narrower.
“He’s not really going to make us go up there, is he?” asked Hanif, gazing up at the coppice on the crest and giving an apprehensive shudder.
“From the look of the flags, we’ve only got to go up half way,” Rupert observed, as they watched James press two red flags on canes into the ground at points along the hillside. while Lizzie, who had lent Rajah to Tina to ride round, drove along the valley with David and put up lower flags, opposite James’s.
“Now,” said David, when they had all gathered round the Land Rover, “it’s fairly obvious what we’re going to do. You start, one at a time, from here. Ride along the valley to the first flag, turn uphill, ride straight for the next flag halfway up, go outside it, no cutting of corners, turn left and carry on along the hillside towards number three, outside that, turn downhill and ride straight for number four where you halt. Then you walk back here. The rest of the time you ride at a steady trot, and I mean a steady trot. We all know what the ponies will want to do; they’ll dawdle uphill, hurry downhill, cut the corners and charge back here to their friends. But the riders are to be in charge, not the ponies. Any questions?”
“Supposing you can’t keep the same steady trot?” ask Hanif.
“You can, if you use your legs,” answered David. “Ride well forward in the saddle uphill—if you keep your weight off your pony’s loins you make it easier for him. Keep him going nicely along the top and use your legs like hell coming down. If you’re having difficulty in keeping the pony’s hind legs under him, you can sit close to the saddle and use your seat too, but don’t start leaning back or hanging on to the reins or you’ll give yourself a rough time. You come down riding the pony forward and sitting with the jumping seat, so that when we start jumping downhill there’ll be no problems.”
“Do we really have to trot coming down?” asked Lesley.
“Yes.”
“Supposing we simply can’t stop?” inquired Hanif.
“You’ll have to circle, but make up your mind that you’re going to ride forward and use your legs and you will stop. Right, we’ll change the order of the ride for this. James first, then Lizzie, Netti, Paul, Rupert, Sarah, Alice, Lesley, Lynne and finally Harry.”
“Would it be O.K. if I loaned Tristram to Tina and he went twice? He’s quite fit,” asked Netti.
“No. I’m not worried about the pony, but I can’t have Tina riding up and downhill when I haven’t seen her in the school. If anyone can lend her a pony tomorrow, she can join in the schooling and we’ll see how she goes.”
“Ollie might lend Hobbit,” suggested Lizzie. “He’s a bit small, but Tina’s very light.”
“You’d have to bribe him,” said Rupert.
“He might agree if we said he could help David with the jumps.”
“It’s a brilliant idea. I’ll persuade him,” Netti told Tina, as James set off along the valley at the steadiest of trots. Soon Ferdie, confronted by the hill began to slow down, but David produced a loudhailer and the valley echoed with his cries of ‘legs!’. Horse and rider made an elegant pair as they crossed the hillside, but they slowed to a very cautious trot as they turned downhill.
“Legs! Keep him going. Look up!” David was shouting as they came down and halted just past the flag.
“All right, not bad,” was his verdict.
“Not bad! I thought it was brilliant,” said Sarah.
“It was the first time I’ve trotted down a hill as steep as that,” said James, patting Ferdinand and looking quite pleased with himself.
The others were watching Lizzie. She had had to work hard to keep Rajah trotting up the hill, but she was going well along the top. David told Netti to start and, as the little grey tackled the uphill, Lizzie and Rajah turned round the third flag and came to a dead halt, both peering at the slope before them with horrified expressions.
“Legs, I said keep trotting!” roared David. “Look up! Get going!”
Lizzie urged Rajah into a reluctant trot, but his wise chestnut face wore a very disapproving expression as he slid thankfully to a halt beside the final flag.
“Not bad for the first time,” said David, signalling to Paul to start. Netti was enjoying herself as she turned downhill. She used her legs feverishly and felt Tristram’s hindlegs go further under him. He stayed balanced and halted close to the flag.
“Good,” said David.
“It was lovely,” Netti told the others. “Using the legs really worked. Only now they feel ready to drop off.”
Paul was much less controlled. As he came round third flag Banjo broke into a canter. He hauled him hastily back to a walk. Then he got him trotting, but missed the flag and halted almost in the hedge.
“Rotten,” shouted David. “You see, you’re not in control.”
Rosie had left the other ponies reluctantly and weaved an uncertain path along the valley. The uphill was an effort for her. She began by cantering and then slowed to a puffing walk.
“Legs!” yelled David.
Rupert got her going along the hillside, but when she saw the downhill slope she came to an abrupt halt. Urged on by Rupert’s legs and David’s yells, she was persuaded to slip and slither down at a sprawling trot. Then she saw the other ponies and decided on a short cut, charging back to them at a canter, with a surprised Rupert pulling ineffectually at the reins.
“Take her straight back to the top flag,” ordered David. “And this time be ready for her—right rein and left leg—and halt beside the final flag.”
As Rosie came down for the second time and halted only a few yards from the flag, Sarah appeared at the top of the slope.
“Come on, faster. Why are you walking?” roared David as Chess picked his way down cautiously. “Legs!”
Saffron had started well, but, coming along the hillside the feel of great open spaces seemed to go to his head. He trotted faster an
d faster and when Alice tried to control him he began stargazing. They came round the third flag, broke into a canter, whirled past Chess, and Saffron, ignoring Alice’s attempts to make him circle, careered into the group of waiting ponies. With a furious squeal, Berry lashed out at him. One of her hoofs thudded against his chest.
David swore. “Is he all right? Bring him over here and let me see.”
Alice had dismounted.
“His chest’s a bit cut, but it doesn’t look very deep,” she answered as she led Saffron over.
“Paul, could you get the first aid kit from the Land Rover?” asked David as he inspected the wound. “Better give it a quick bathe and a puff or two of wound powder. Has the pony had a permanent anti-tet?”
“I don’t know,” answered Alice, taking the bathing bowl from Paul.
“Well, you must find out, and quickly. Telephone his owner the moment you get home and, if he hasn’t had a permanent one, the vet will have to come out and give him an ordinary one. It has to be done today because tetanus is a killer and, as I expect you all know, it’s in the earth, so a kick with a muddy hoof can easily transmit the germ. And it doesn’t need a serious wound, any little cut or scratch will do. That’s why it’s important that all your ponies should have the permanent anti-tet with boosters as necessary, so should all of you. Right, Sarah, get back up that hill and come down at a trot. You’re the boss, not the pony.”
Lesley had stopped and waited when she saw the confusion ahead, but as Sarah rode uphill for her second attempt, she came round the red flag and began to walk down. Despite David’s ferocious roars she made no attempt to trot, and, when she halted neatly at the final flag, he said, “Straight back, and this time trot. And look ahead, not down at the ground.”
Chess was still disapproving, but slightly less cautious at his second attempt. Lesley came down at a grudging tight-reined trot. Then it was Alice. Saffron seemed none the worse for his kick.
“Now get him on the bit before you come round the flag. You’ve got a difficult pony so I don’t mind if you stop or circle. Get him on the bit and ride forward. If you don’t keep pushing him on you’ll lose him. I know it sounds silly but it’s the truth.”
Pony Club Cup (Woodbury Pony Club Book 1) Page 7