Pony Club Cup (Woodbury Pony Club Book 1)

by Josephine Pullein-Thompson

  “I know I’m never going to get over it,” wailed Sarah, “Not even if we stay there all night.”

  “Where are my dry clothes?” demanded Hanif, looking round.

  “You left them under the hedge by the water jump,” Alice reminded him.

  They were all rather silent as they rode down the farm track. Quite a few people had hollow-feeling stomachs and weak legs at the thought of the water, and these feelings grew worse when they found Julia waiting for them, armed with a lunge rein and lungeing whip.

  “We’ll warm up by jumping the slip rail into the second field and then doing the hill the easy way,” said David. “Do it well, because I want to show Julia how you’ve come on. Let the slow ponies chase a fast one and don’t forget to halt at the final flag. Off you go, James.”

  They felt much more on their own, starting from the first field and with no David and main group of ponies waiting below in the valley, but they all enjoyed the feeling of being alone with their ponies and the long string of ponies and riders looked very impressive as it snaked up and down the hill in a controlled manner.

  “I’m stunned,” said Julia when they had all come back. “Truthfully. I never thought you could improve that much in three days, even with David cursing you. They’ll all go straight over the water, won’t they?” she asked. “You won’t need me and my gear.”

  “Yes we will. I’m told we have one confirmed hater of plastic among the ponies and several of the riders have made up their minds to refuse.”

  “The water’s gone down two inches,” reported James. “Shall I fill it up?”

  “No!” the other pony club members shrieked at him.

  “No,” agreed David. “There’s plenty there for our purposes, but I would like a pole over the centre. The long one, resting on a couple of drums on their sides. James, give Julia a hand.”

  “That makes it worse,” complained Netti.

  “Much worse,” agreed Lynne.

  “It makes it easier for the ponies,” David told them. “They realise it’s a jump and don’t fall in and it protects my plastic sheet from the ones that want to wade through. Now, has anyone a pony that’s jumped water?”

  “Well, Ferdie has, but he doesn’t like it much,” answered James. “He generally has a stop or two with my mother at riding club.”

  “Let’s try Alice in the lead then,” said David. “Come at a brisk pace, Alice, but the important thing is to increase your speed during the last few strides. Some riders start too fast and run out of steam as they get there, that’s fatal. Harry, you’re second, James third. Then anyone else who feels they might make it. We deal with the difficult ones later.”

  Alice cantered a circle and approached briskly. Saffron saw the jump, pricked his ears, lengthened his stride and flew over effortlessly. Everyone cheered, he made it look so easy. Hanif had turned and was riding in pursuit. Jupiter made an enormous leap, far higher and wider than was necessary, but it was a smooth jump and Hanif sat tight. James followed grim-faced. He rode in a very determined manner but, at the very last moment, Ferdinand’s nerve failed, he braked violently, skidded to a halt on the very brink, head down, almost tipping in. James went on, landing with a loud splash on the far side, the bottom half of him in the water.

  There were cries of horror which turned to laughter as James crawled out and then stood looking ruefully at his dripping jodhs.

  “Oh Ferdie, you brute,” he said and then began to laugh too.

  “You can have my spare jodhs,” offered Hanif. “They are stretch ones.”

  “I’m all right, I’ll soon dry out.”

  “You won’t, you know.” Julia, who’d caught Ferdinand, took a closer look. “You’re sopping and you won’t do your mother’s beautiful saddle any good.”

  “O.K.,” James agreed, “I’d better see if I can get into them.”

  The two boys went off together, Hanif to retrieve his clothes from their hiding place in the hedge, James to find a bush he could change behind.

  David shouted, “Next!” at the riders, none of whom felt the least desire to be next in the water but Lizzie, always obliging, stirred Rajah into a canter. He approached as slowly as possible, a highly disapproving expression on his long chestnut face, and with obviously no intention of jumping.

  Lizzie let him inspect the water; he sniffed it suspiciously and then gave a loud snort.

  “Take him away,” said David. “He knows all about it; you showed it to him this morning; he’s just putting on an act. Anyone else want a go?”

  Lesley rode up flapping her legs, but not throwing her heart over. Paul came fast but let Banjo run out at the last moment.

  “I think Tristram would do it, but could we have a lead?” asked Netti. “All this falling off and refusing has unnerved us.”

  David called for Alice. “Put them over the log pile and then circle round and over the water,” he instructed.

  “Hurry up, Harry! We need you,” called Julia.

  Harry came trotting back. “Everything’s a bit tight,” he said, giggling, “but he’s got into the jodhs and the socks.”

  “I may need a leg-up,” complained James, following at a stiff-legged walk. “I can’t bend my knees.”

  Alice and Netti leapt the log pile, swept round and sailed over the water with no problems at all.

  “It looks so easy when they do it,” wailed Lynne.

  “It is easy,” David told her. “The difficulties are all in the minds of the riders and ponies. All right, Harry and James. And be ready for him this time, James.”

  “I will,” James shouted back, as, brandishing his whip, they rode at the log pile. And, though Ferdinand made a large and apprehensive-looking jump and James, determined not to go over his head again, got left behind, they reached the far bank safely.

  “Do it once more,” shouted David. “Paul, you follow them.”

  This time James and Ferdinand jumped well, but Banjo made another of his last-minute run-outs.

  “Very bad,” shouted David. “Anyone can be taken by surprise, but to let a pony run out twice to the same side is bad riding. You must tell him with reins and legs before you start that he’s not going to do it; turn him into the hedge, have a dead refusal. You see, if they come up to a fence with a run out in mind they don’t make any plans for jumping, they don’t think about the take-off, so you don’t have a hope of getting over. Come once more on your own, Paul, and make him do a dead refusal.”

  While Paul was trying to convince Banjo that he wasn’t going to run out again, David asked Julia and Oliver to make a wing. They placed a large oil drum on the non-hedge side of the water and rested one end of a pole on it and the other on a small drum.

  “Don’t think that a wing will do your work for you,” said David, “it won’t, but it may help a bit. Right, Alice, give him another lead.”

  This time Banjo refused and then, before Paul could turn him away, he made an enormous leap from a standstill. Paul shot out of the saddle, clung round the pony’s neck and then fell off on the far side, just clear of the water.

  The riders of the other small ponies became even more glum.

  “I don’t think we’re ever going to do it,” said Tina. “It’s too wide for little ponies.”

  “If Banjo won’t, Berry hasn’t a hope,” agreed Lynne.

  “I always knew it was a waste of time even trying with Chess,” complained Sarah. “Why doesn’t David let us go round the whole course on our own? That would be more fun.”

  “If there’s a lead going, I will be the next sacrificial victim,” offered Rupert suddenly.

  “Good. We’ll have Netti and James, just to make sure their ponies are really happy about it, then Harry and Rupert, then Alice and Paul.”

  Tristram was obviously perfectly happy, but Ferdinand was still jumping carefully. Then Harry and Rupert, who’d warmed up over the log pile, came in fast and Rosie didn’t seem to notice the water. Chasing Jupiter, she sailed over as though it was only the pol
e she had to jump. Everyone cheered and clapped.

  Flinging himself off, Rupert hugged her enthusiastically and then began to beg bread and pony nuts from any one who had some left in his or her pocket. “Do you think she actually saw the water?” he asked David anxiously.

  “Yes, I expect she jumped streams as a foal, followed her dam over; she doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about. Now where’s Paul? James, you can give him another lead, and then we’ll start using the Irish method on the rest of them.”

  “Can Lesley and I have one more lead?” asked Lizzie, who was rather annoyed that her brother and sister were over.

  “Yes, O.K., but neither of you looked very hopeful,” said David, watching Paul. Banjo made another enormous leap, but this time Paul was ready for him and stayed on. Then Lesley and Lizzie came with their leads but, though they both looked very determined and, kicking and whacking with a windmill of arms and legs, tried to make their ponies jump from a standstill, they couldn’t get over.

  “What are you supposed to do when your pony just won’t jump?” asked Lizzie despondently.

  “I’m going to show you one method, which seems to work well over ditches and water,” answered David, as Julia passed the lunge rein through one ring of Rajah’s snaffle and buckled it to the other.

  “Try and see it from the pony’s point of view,” he went on, raising his voice and talking to all the members. “There’s this horrible jump and you have to decide how to get over it, where to take off and how high and how wide you ought to jump. If you get it wrong you can fall, bang your legs, drown. Bad enough without a rider, but when you’ve got one of them, all your troubles are doubled. They whack you and kick you when you’re trying to work out the take-off, their weight tips all over the place, unbalancing you when you’re dithering on the brink, trying to get up the courage for an enormous leap, and, if you finally make the enormous leap, they go and fall off. Now we’re going to try without riders. Cross your stirrups, Lizzie.”

  “I want you to lead him up to it,” Julia told Lizzie, “then I’ll tow him over it from the far side. Be ready to stand clear when he jumps.”

  “If he jumps,” Lizzie corrected her.

  Rajah dithered and teetered for several minutes while Julia pulled gently and Lizzie and David made encouraging noises.

  “Jump over yourself, Lizzie, or wade through. Show him that even humans can do it,” called David.

  Lizzie scrambled and hopped across, trying to keep her leaking boot out of the water, and then called Rajah from the far side. His dithering increased, but his eyes had stopped rolling with obstinacy.

  “He’s going,” said David and everyone began to shout encouraging remarks. Suddenly Rajah made a huge leap and found himself being praised and patted and rewarded from a scoop of oats on the far side.

  Lizzie led him back for a second attempt and this time he only dithered for a moment, and the third time he didn’t dither at all.

  “Now Lesley,” said David.

  Stardust made less fuss than Rajah, and Hobbit, who went next, made no fuss at all. Berry was more difficult. Always inclined to kick, she lashed out angrily at anyone who went near her and kept charging into the wing rather than face the water. Julia gave the lunge rein to Lizzie, with instructions to move back quickly if Berry show signs of coming over, and, taking the lunge whip, stood outside the wing and kept the pony straight. Furious, Berry sulked. She stood, ears back, with a mulish expression, and refused to budge. Julia began to tap her on the quarters with the lunge whip, and Lynne shook the scoop of oats invitingly on the far side. Berry stood and sulked, but the annoying tapping of the whip went on and the oats became more tempting; suddenly she gave in and jumped with the greatest of ease. At her second attempt she went over with no trouble at all. Lynne was amazed and delighted.

  “Now, let’s have those four ponies over, mounted,” said David. “The rest of you can give them leads. Make a sort of hunt of it; we want them to enjoy themselves. Then we’ll deal with Master Chess.”

  The ten ponies were soon racing over the logpile and the water. Pony after pony flew over happily. Only Berry misbehaved, jumping the wing, but when Lynne had been roared at for not keeping her straight, she tried again and this time jumped it easily.

  “I never thought Stardust would take to it so quickly,” Lesley told Alice as they dismounted and fed their ponies on handfuls of pony nuts and bread. And her warm glow of triumph was increased by the sight of her sister watching with a dismal face as piebald Chess stood stock-still at the end of the lunge rein and refused to move one step nearer the water.

  “Do you know if he’s ever been lunged?” asked David.

  “Yes, I think so. We tried him out once at a pony club rally and he seemed to know all about it,” answered Sarah.

  “Great,” said Julia. “I’ll get him going first then.” She took Chess away from the water and soon had him trotting round on the lunge rein and looking like a well-behaved pony. Then, gradually, she moved the circle nearer the pony and still kept him going forward. It wasn’t until she actually pointed him at the water that he stopped, and refused to budge.

  “See if you can lead him forward, Sarah.”

  “He won’t do it, I know he won’t. It’s just a waste of time,” moaned Sarah, as Oliver tried to tempt Chess nearer with oats.

  Julia gave the lunge rein to Lizzie and managed to persuade Chess to within a few strides of the water by tapping him on the hindquarters, but then he stuck again, and he still wasn’t within dithering distance.

  “Does he kick other ponies?” asked David.

  “No, never.”

  “Good. Lesley, you ride Stardust alongside him. Better on the hedge side. Sarah, you lead Chess and try to walk them both up to the edge of the jump.”

  Chess was persuaded to take another couple of steps, but then he stood rock-like again. Sarah was wailing that it was useless, and, except for those who were helping, everyone had lost interest and started to talk of other things. James was trying to dry his jodhs and socks by flapping them in the wind. Netti took one sock and waved it aloft on her whip.

  “Lesley, go back a bit, take a short run then trot pass Chess and pop over, O.K.? Sarah, you keep Chess standing straight and make sure he watches.”

  Stardust popped over neatly and Chess, taken by surprise, moved forward without meaning to. Julia was rapping him with the whip again, Oliver was shaking the oats; David and Lizzie were making encouraging noises; he began to dither.

  “Round again, Lesley,” called David.

  Stardust pushed past him and jumped over. “Go on boy!” everyone shouted, “Go on.”

  Suddenly Chess reared up, plunged into the water, knocking down the centre pole and waded out on the far side. Everyone cheered and he began to wolf down mouthfuls of oats as though they were his just reward.

  “Keep some for next time, Ollie,” said Julia, fishing in the water for the pole.

  “And mind my plastic sheet. This is not a watersplash but a jump,” David told Chess, as Sarah and Lesley went back for a second try.

  This time Chess jumped properly and made another greedy rush for the oats. Then they towed him over without Stardust, and finally Sarah mounted, and Stardust, Berry and Hobbit were all told to give him a lead and to go round twice without stopping.

  Sarah hardly knew whether to be pleased that she had a pony which now jumped black plastic and water, or annoyed that David had proved her wrong, but Tina and Lynne were both so loud in praise of their ponies and David’s Irish method, that she didn’t have to say anything at all.

  David, who seemed suddenly anxious to get away, called for quiet. “That’s all for today,” he said, “and tomorrow I’m going to hospital for a check-up. I think all the ponies should have a rest; we’ve worked them quite hard. Would any of you like to do a very, very basic dressage test and go round the whole course individually on Friday?”

  “A dressage test?” asked some voices in horror, but others were alre
ady shouting, “Go round the whole course? Yes, please.”

  “Same time then,” said David, climbing into the passenger seat of the Land Rover. “Will you drive, Julia? I’m whacked.”

  “Thank you!” the pony club members shouted after them. “Thank you, David. Thank you, Julia.”

  7

  Clear The Course

  On Friday morning, Alice and Hanif, trotting down the track from Four Cross, found Sarah waiting for them on the road.

  “Hullo,” she said. “I thought I’d wait and tell you the news. My mother’s determined to get a team to the Area Cup. She and Mrs Blacker were plotting all day yesterday and Julia agrees that we’re good enough. They’ve got the rules and some copies of the dressage test and some new quiz books and they’re all going to work on David today.”

  “Poor David,” said Hanif. “I really do pity him. All this stupid fuss about teams.”

  “I hope everything was all right at the hospital and they didn’t say we had been wearing him out too much. Has anyone heard?” asked Alice.

  “Yes, Mummy telephoned to ask last night. He said they were pleased with him and said he was to carry on and do bit more each day.”

  James was waiting for them at his gate. “I’ve got your clothes,” he told Hanif. “My mother would wash and iron them. I kept telling her that I’d only worn them for hours, but she’s got a phobia about dirty socks. It’s great about the team, isn’t it Sarah? I read the whole of the Pony Club Manual last night, in case I have to go in for the quiz, but I’d rather not. I’m not as good as the rest of you answering questions; I’d rather do the other sections. Jennifer coming today?”

  “Yes, I think so. But I don’t think Mummy’s dared to tell David yet.”

  They found Mrs Rooke already in the field at Coppice Hill, unloading biscuit tin dressage markers from her car and making a cross and reluctant Oliver arrange them round the school.

  “He’s doing it all wrong,” James pointed out immediately. “He’s jumbled all the quarter markers up. K should be on this side, Ollie!” he shouted.