Pony Club Cup (Woodbury Pony Club Book 1)

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Pony Club Cup (Woodbury Pony Club Book 1) Page 13

by Josephine Pullein-Thompson


  “Go and sort them out,” said Mrs Rooke. “Here’s a copy of the test. I’ve brought one for each of you, but of course only the team have to learn it by heart. David’s going to have it commanded this morning.”

  The pony club members read their dressage tests through gloomily. “You and I will lose three points straight away for not having snaffles,” Alice pointed out to Hanif.

  “That’s not many, look what I’ll lose when Jupe refuses to halt.”

  “Oh dear, there’s a serpentine,” wailed Lizzie.

  “Do we really have to?” asked Rupert, “I’ll never remember all this.”

  “You don’t have to remember it, it’s going to be commanded,” Lesley snapped at him. “Someone stands at A and shouts the next movement just before you get to the marker where it begins.”

  By the time David arrived, the prospective team members had arranged the arena properly; James had even paced out all the distances. But the people who had never ridden a test before had worked themselves into a panic and, without even answering his ‘Good morning all’, they crowded round him asking questions.

  “Must we do it?”

  “What happens if your pony won’t stand?”

  “How do you know where four metres from the centre line is, when there’s no line?”

  “There’s no marker for G.”

  “How big is a twenty-metre circle?”

  “We’re going to begin by schooling,” David shouted them down. “Will you all walk round on the old track, outside the markers, please.”

  As soon as the ponies were going well and on the bit, David started practising the various movements in the test. As they trotted round, everyone was called in turn to trot down the centre line and halt at X. The boys saluted by taking off their caps, the girls by putting their reins in one hand, dropping the other at their sides and bowing in the direction of the imaginary judge. They rode at the ordinary trot, and at the sitting trot. Individually they made the smaller serpentine, half-circling about three yards on either side where the centre line would be if there was one. They cantered and circled, they changed the rein and went through all the movements again. They practised halting and saluting all round the school and then walking on a long rein.

  “There you are,” said David as they walked round him. “There’s nothing to panic about; there’s nothing in the test except the salute, which we haven’t done every day this week. Any questions?”

  “Is it true you can’t wear a martingale?” asked Alice, who had been told to take hers off by Sarah.

  “In competitions, yes,” answered David. “And you’re not allowed to carry a whip, and the use of the voice loses you points, so you can’t talk to your pony. But none of that applies this morning; we’re having a rough and ready practice in a very rough and ready arena. By the way, though you can practise the various parts of a test as often as you like, riding the whole test straight through should be done very rarely. You don’t want the pony to learn the test. If they do, they begin to ‘anticipate’ and start the movements before you tell them to. Now I’m going to be the judge and I want someone to command; we’ll use the loudhailer. Here you, Lizzie,” he went on quickly as Mrs Rooke began to say what a fine voice Sarah had. “You have to watch the rider and call out the instructions well before the marker at which the movement begins. Will the people who’ve ridden in dressage tests before come first, please.”

  James had ridden in several so he agreed to go first. Netti and Sarah, who had been in junior teams, offered to go second and third. Alice said she’d go fourth, if no one else wanted to, and Hanif said he would follow Alice. Gradually everyone found a place in the order.

  “It’s going to take quite a time,” David told them, “about five minutes each, so the people who aren’t going early should dismount and give their ponies a rest, then start warming up again about ten minutes before they’re due in.”

  Lizzie was good at commanding and James seemed very efficient at riding the test. Everyone except Netti, who was preparing to go in next, watched admiringly as James and Ferdinand entered at a steady trot and halted squarely at X. James saluted elegantly, David bowed back—he had no hat to take off—and horse and rider moved off at a trot round the arena. They serpentined, they cantered, circled at the canter, trotted and then, changing the rein at the walk, rode the serpentine and the cantering movements again, going round to the right. Finally they trotted down the centre, halting this time at the non-existent letter G, which James found by looking out of the corner of his eye for M.

  “Well done,” said David. “That wasn’t at all bad. Your transitions are your weak point. You started cantering late on both reins. Try giving the aids a bit earlier. And the transitions back to trot were rather unbalanced; you need to put his hindlegs under him with a half-halt before you actually slow down. Then you could do with a bit more impulsion in the serpentines. You’re inclined to put him to sleep and aim at neatness, but I want to see impulsion, hindlegs really working, back swinging. You won’t do your jumping any good if you put your horse to sleep when you’re schooling. But, as I say, it wasn’t too bad at all.”

  Netti was ready, and Lizzie commanded her sister to “Enter at ordinary trot sitting or rising”. Tristram moved well and, like Ferdinand, he had a good head-carriage. Netti kept calm and was able to think ahead and so be accurate.

  “Good,” said David when she bowed at the end. “That was another nice one. Your serpentines have come on a lot, but you’re still cantering too fast on the circles. Try to sit down more and use the half-halt to slow him up.”

  Chess was next. He was too small and sturdy, too short­striding and thick-necked, to perform an elegant test, but it was obedient and neat and Mrs Rooke clapped loudly as he came to the final halt. “Every movement carried out precisely at the marker, nothing slipshod there,” she announced.

  “She wasn’t in the same class as James and Netti.” Lesley’s bitter voice was equally loud.

  “Little ponies can’t really be judged against the big ones,” said David calmly. “We all know that short strides and lack of presence will tell against them in a real competition, but at home we judge people on how well they’ve done with a particular pony.”

  “Like tack inspections,” suggested Lizzie, who hated quarrels. “In your own pony club it doesn’t matter if your tack’s ancient, it’s just judged on cleanness, but if you go against other clubs you’ve got to have good tack as well.”

  “Exactly,” said David. “Come on, Alice.”

  Alice, suddenly overcome with nerves, made a very wavering entrance until David called to her that she must look at a point over the judge’s head and not down at X. She made a crooked halt and a very hurried bow.

  “Take your time, there’s no rush,” David told her. Gradually as they trotted round, she and Saffron settled down, and though the pony sometimes escaped from her in the transitions and came off the bit, everyone could see that when he was on the bit he was calm, supple and occasionally a look of grace and distinction came over him, which set him apart from the other ponies.

  “He bends beautifully,” remarked Lizzie, eyeing his serpentine enviously, “and his steps are much more spaced out than Chess’s”

  “Yes, he has good cadence and a lot of potential,” agreed David.

  Hanif, in a ferment of worry, had thoroughly upset Jupiter. Instead of riding in quietly, he had found himself engaged in a pitched battle over halting and standing. When Oliver, who had appointed himself collecting steward, called him in, Jupiter bounced round C and entered, swinging his quarters and fighting for his head. Hanif forced him to a halt, but he refused to stand and twirled round and round.

  “What’s the matter with you?” asked David. “Why are you getting uptight, Harry? You’ve been doing all these movements perfectly well for days and now you go and work the pair of you into this ridiculous state. Take him away and calm him down. Walk on a loose rein and relax. You can try again after Lesley. And stop thinkin
g you’ve got to prove something”

  “Lesley, you look ready. Can you come now?”

  Stardust’s performance was an eye-opener to the other pony members. They had all been too intent on schooling their own ponies to see how other people were progressing and it was only at jumping that they had sometimes had the opportunity to watch each other. Now to see the pretty part-bred Arab trot into the arena was a great surprise. She no longer looked depressed and overbent. No longer weighed down by the pelham, her head had come up, better feeding had put a sparkle into her eyes and more of a shine on her chestnut coat, schooling had brought her hindlegs under her and given her impulsion. She looked quite different and certainly the most distinguished of the performers so far. She had a very long, slow stride, her cadence at the trot was even more pronounced than Saffron’s, she stayed on the bit, and Lesley, like Sarah, was very accurate about carrying out movements exactly at the markers.

  “Well done,” said David when she came to her final halt. “That was very good. Here, I’ve made you some notes, small criticisms. The general impression was very good. Your walk is still your weakest point, it lacks impulsion; you’ll have to try and improve it out hacking. Now, has Harry calmed down?”

  “Has Jupe calmed down, you mean.”

  “No I don’t. Jupe didn’t even know we were planning to do individual dressage tests until Harry went tense and indicated that there was something unpleasant ahead.”

  “Well, I’ve decided not to care. I’m not going to try at all.”

  “Great, let’s get started.”

  Except for David, Alice and Lizzie, no one watched Hanif’s performance: they were all too stunned by Stardust. Lynne, Netti and Tina had all rushed to pat the pony, who looked very pleased at the unaccustomed admiration.

  “She may not be much good at cross-country, but she’s absolutely brilliant at dressage,” said Netti.

  “Brilliant,” agreed Lynne. “Even better than Sea King.”

  “Oh, far better than him. She’s up to Cranford Vale standard,” said Netti.

  “And far, far better than anyone I’ve seen at the riding school,” added Tina.

  “Thank you.” Lesley dismounted. “I didn’t think I liked dressage tests before, but now I think they’re good fun, and Stardust enjoyed it too. I think she likes people watching her.”

  “Why didn’t Mrs Rooke clap Lesley?” Oliver asked Paul in a loud and indignant voice. “She was streets better than Sarah.”

  In the arena Jupiter was still bouncing a bit, but the fact that Hanif had given up trying to make him perform the movements exactly at the markers was helping.

  “Don’t halt,” called David as he came down the centre at the end. “Carry on round and go through the whole test again. Now you’ve a rough idea how long he’s going to take to obey your relaxed aids, try giving them a bit earlier see if that makes it more accurate. Don’t fuss him, just experiment calmly.”

  After Hanif came Rupert, and his was a very different performance. Rosie drifted round vaguely and neither them seemed to be bothering much about markers. But they kept calm; Rosie only left the arena once, and managed to do every movement in her own time.

  “What a mess, just like Rupert,” complained Mrs Rooke.

  “Well done,” David told Rupert. “That wasn’t a bad test for a youngster and you didn’t try to get hold of her which was sensible. Keep going like that and you’ll find she improves gradually.”

  Paul’s test was neat and accurate, but Banjo, like Chess, didn’t really use his hindlegs and his small pony stride was a disadvantage. Lynne and Berry started well but when it came to the canter, the roan pony went back to her old habit of trotting faster and faster. Lynne, shrieking with horror, lost her way and, despite Lizzie’s firm commands, continued in a state of confusion for the rest of the test.

  “Terrible,” she shrieked cheerfully, halting at X. “We were awful. Much the worst.”

  Hobbit followed her into the arena, a serious expression on his dark-brown Dartmoor dish-face. Tina, looking pale beneath her freckles and concentrating grimly, managed quite well until Hobbit went on the wrong leg and she stayed on it for the whole of the canter movement, including the circle.

  “Did you realise you were on the wrong leg?” asked David when she halted. “Because you should have corrected it. Leading off on an incorrect leg loses you a few points, but carrying out a whole movement on it means that you haven’t done what was asked for, and as there were two movements, you would have lost twenty points.”

  “Sorry,” said Tina.

  “Don’t be, you’re here to learn. It was a nice test otherwise.”

  Lizzie was the last to go. She had been riding in while Netti commanded Tina and as she trotted into the arena, the watchers realised that they were in for another surprise. Rajah wasn’t light and elegant. He didn’t have the poetical appearance of Stardust, but he was energetic and on the bit, his long stride was cadenced, his back swung and he was bending correctly on all his corners, serpentines and circles as he plodded round with pricked ears and a learned expression.

  “Well done, Lizzie, you only looked down twice and the old horse has improved out of all recognition.” David turned to address the others. “I hope you’ve all learned something by watching each other,” he said. “It’s quite interesting to see how some of the ponies have come on; they’ve all improved, but some had more hidden potential than others.”

  “My word, yes,” said Mrs Rooke in a cross voice. “It’s certainly confused things.”

  “We have an hour and a half for lunch,” said David. “So only small feeds please, or they won’t feel like galloping round the cross-country this afternoon.”

  After lunch the Land Rover party left for Coppice Hill before the ponies. Mrs Roberts had joined Mrs Rooke and Oliver, and when the riders reached the field they found the mothers had been hard at work, helping Oliver drag poles and drums from the two unwanted hillside jumps and build a new fence in the valley. The slip rails had been strengthened with extra cross poles and made to look more formidable, but otherwise the course was as before.

  “I have the plan here,” said David, “if anyone wants to look at it. These poles and drums are the first fence, then slip rail, water, logpile, tree trunk, ditch, brush, angle, horizon, then the little downhill jump and the gateway into the lane. This is where you’ve got to be careful. If you do get out of control down the hill, circle and stop before jumping into the lane. The gateway jump must be taken slowly, O.K.? Then you canter along the lane, jump back into the field over the slip rails and the Land Rover will be the finish. It’ll be parked between the ditch and the brush. Oliver will be the starter, Mrs Rooke will steward the gateway jump and Mrs Roberts the water.”

  “I’ve got the best position,” interrupted Mrs Roberts laughing merrily, “but I’ll fish you out quick.”

  “If you have three refusals at a jump, go on to the next and we’ll sort you out afterwards. Any questions?”

  “Do circles count as refusals?” asked Sarah.

  “Normally, yes, but today isn’t a competition; there are no prizes to be won.”

  “Do you want us to go fast?” asked James.

  “A fair hunting pace, as they say; that’s a hand gallop or a fast canter. This is an experiment; you have to find out what pace suits your pony. If the small ones start too fast they won’t have the puff to get over the water, much less up the hill. And as I have already said, the gateway jump must be taken slowly. Now, we’ll leave James and Harry down here and the rest of you come up the hill with me; you’ll get a better view of what’s going on. Remember, starter, when the first pony comes down the hill you can start the next one, but never more than two ponies on the course at once. And if anyone is in trouble we all wave our red flags. Our white ones signal that all is well again.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll keep things under control down here,” said Oliver.

  From their vantage point on the hill, the other pony club members
watched James start. He jumped the first two easily and then made the long journey to the water at a good cross-country canter. They saw him half-halt before he reached the water and then sit down and ride.

  “He didn’t mean to go in again,” commented David as Ferdinand made a careful jump and turned uphill for the logpile. It was then that two figures, one mounted and one on foot, appeared at the lane slip rails.

  “Who the hell ...” began David.

  “It’s Mrs Blacker and Jennifer,” said Sarah. “They mentioned that they might come and watch.”

  “I thought she asked Mummy if she could join in,” said Lesley maliciously.

  David turned his attention back to James who, riding hard at the ditch, was obviously prepared to foil last-minute attempts to run out. As he landed safely everyone shouted encouraging remarks.

  “Those idiots are still on the course,” complained David. He picked up the loudhailer and, waiting until James was over the brush, he shouted, “Clear the course, please. Wave at them, will you, Lesley?” he asked, looking down angrily at his useless arm. “They don’t seem to understand I’m yelling at them. They can’t both be deaf.”

  Everyone began to wave, for James was over the horizon fence and heading for the downhill one at a steady canter.

  At last Mrs Roberts realized what was wrong and ran across to the Blackers.

  Below in the valley, Hanif started. James hopped neatly over the gateway jumps. Mrs Blacker stood arguing with Mrs Roberts in the middle of the course and Jennifer, unused to popping over jumps with short runs, refused the slip rails.

  “Clear the course!” David gave an angry roar through the loudhailer. Hanif, who was coming fast because he had decided to let Jupiter have his own way over the easy jumps at the beginning of the course and then steady him down later, shouted too, scattering the mothers. James coming along the lane yelled indignantly at Jennifer to get out of the way. He pushed past her and jumped into the field as Hanif sailed confidently over the water. Jennifer took James’s lead, jumped into the field and went to stand with her mother and Mrs Roberts.

 

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