The Snow Pony

by Alison Lester

  Dusty found out just how tough when they tied the Snow Pony up for the first time. They hadn’t expected much resistance after her trip down from the plains, when she’d been tethered to Fred’s saddle and tied up at night. But now that she was stronger she fought like a demon. Jack put a big soft cotton halter on her, knotted at the side so she couldn’t choke and plaited extra thick behind her ears so it wouldn’t bite into her skin when she pulled back.

  The tie-up pole stood in the middle of the holding paddock, and it was what Dusty thought of when her mum described someone as being ‘as lonely as a post in a paddock’: a thick wooden pole about three metres high with its base buried so deeply in the ground that it was as solid as rock. The bottom two thirds of it were ringed with tyres, sitting on top of each other, so that even the most crazy horse could only bounce off rubber. When they tethered the Snow Pony, tying her high so she couldn’t get her forelegs over the rope, she stood quietly at first. It wasn’t until Rita saddled Captain and rode him away that she went crazy. She leapt and plunged and fought the rope so wildly that Dusty was in tears. She seemed determined to cripple herself, bashing into the tyres, snapping her head back, thudding on to her side. Dusty pleaded with her father to do something, but he was unmoved.

  ‘She’s going to stay there all day, and if she kills herself, so be it. Believe me, you don’t want a horse that won’t tie up. She’s learning a lot more than just being tied up, too. She’s learning about patience and submission, and not calling the shots.’ He jumped down from the fence where he and Dusty had been sitting. ‘Come on, come and check the heifers with me. You’ll only get upset watching her. She’ll be a different horse after this.’

  Dusty didn’t speak to Jack for the rest the day. She hated it when he wouldn’t listen, when he insisted on doing things his way. He was good with horses – better than anyone else in the district – she knew that, but the Snow Pony wasn’t just any old horse. Dusty knew she had to be taught, but she didn’t think she could ever be tamed. Her wild mountain spirit, which Dusty loved, meant she would fight to the death and you had to make allowances for that.

  4

  The battle

  Dusty sat on the top rail of the stockyards fence, gripping so hard her knuckles were white. She stayed very still so as not to frighten the Snow Pony. Jack was about to ride her for the first time. He’d mouthed the mare and saddled her and driven her in long reins, and now the moment of truth had come when they would see how she’d react to having a rider on her back. Last night, when they’d talked about it, Jack hadn’t been optimistic.

  ‘She’s done everything I’ve asked her to, I have to admit. But the minute she doesn’t understand something she panics, and it’s a blind panic, as though she just switches off.’

  ‘Why don’t you let me ride her first?’ Dusty asked. ‘She never panics with me.’

  Jack shook his head and Rita nodded in agreement. ‘No way,’ they said together and Dusty knew they meant it.

  The Snow Pony stayed still as Jack put his foot into the stirrup. She’d grown taller since that night they first saw her in the moonlight, a year ago, and stood at about fifteen hands, so she wasn’t really a pony any more, but her name had stuck. Her new spring coat gleamed like gunmetal and the scatter of dots on her rump looked more like a trick of light than white dapples. The scar on her shoulder stood out in a dark, ragged Z. She was still slight, so the bridle, headstall, stock saddle, breast plate and crupper seemed too big for her, as though there was hardly any horse beneath all that gear. That was until Jack gently settled his weight on to her back. Then, be-fore Dusty’s very eyes, she grew – getting bigger, swelling, until she exploded into a series of leaps and bounds and bucks that jolted Jack around like a rag doll. He stuck like glue, trying to pull her head up and spurring her forward every time she bucked. Finally she was exhausted, ‘bucked out’, and she propped, legs splayed and sides heaving, dripping with sweat. Jack sat on her for a little while, panting himself, then pushed her forward and she walked quietly around the yard.

  ‘That’s more like it.’ He rewarded her with a pat on the neck. ‘Good girl.’ But even as he was saying it he was looking at Dusty and shaking his head.

  Dusty felt like howling, but she blinked the tears back. It was shocking to see her horse resisting so violently, and she knew she’d never stay on a bronco like that, but she knew in her heart that the Snow Pony wouldn’t buck like that with her. Dad thought he knew everything about horses, but he didn’t know about this one, she thought bitterly. He was just going to muck her up.

  When Dusty got home from school the next day, Jack had ridden the Snow Pony again and had the bruises to prove it.

  ‘She got rid of me all right,’ Jack said as he limped about the kitchen. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve been bucked off a horse, but she did it. She pelted me off. I got back on and stayed on, so I reckon I won the fight, but she certainly won that round.’

  Rita was chopping up vegetables at the sink and Dusty saw her mouth squash up like a chook’s bum, the way it always did when she had something difficult to say.

  ‘What is it, Mum?’ She waited for it.

  Rita kept chopping. She knew how much the horse meant to Dusty.

  ‘I don’t think she’s going to work out. I know you love her, but I don’t think the Snow Pony is ever going to be a suitable horse for you.’ She looked at Jack for support and he nodded, rubbing his grazed elbow at the same time. ‘I don’t know anyone who has a better way with horses than your father. Horses like him, they go well for him. The fact that the mare is resisting him so determinedly probably means that she just can’t be ridden. She might just be too wild.’

  Dusty walked down the passage to her room and flopped on the bed. She knew the Snow Pony was a good horse, her parents just couldn’t see it. Stewie crept in, looking mysterious, hands tucked up under his pyjama top.

  ‘I got you a happy tablet, Dusty.’ He smiled and held out a Tim Tam for her. ‘They eat these in outer space you know. Really.’ Dusty looked doubtful so he kept going. ‘It’s true. Whenever they get earth-sick, they have a Tim Tam. Cheers ’em up just like that.’

  ‘You’re an idiot, Stewie.’ Dusty pulled his hair into spikes with her chocolaty fingers. ‘But thanks.’

  ‘You’re not wild, are you?’ Dusty rubbed the Snow Pony around her eyes, brushing the dried sweat from her face. The corners of her mouth were raw where she had fought against the bit, and her coat was stiff and shiny where Jack had hosed her down. ‘You dumb horse. You’ve learnt all your other lessons: tying up, getting washed, going on the truck, getting saddled.’

  The Snow Pony nestled her head into the front of Dusty’s shirt, and it felt as though she was trying to hide there. Dusty thought back to the time she’d first seen her up at The Plains, wild and beautiful, happy with her pinto pal, and wished that she hadn’t begged Jack to catch her. If the mare didn’t turn out, what would happen to her? Would they just turn her loose again? She might never find her mate. She might not be able to survive in the wild any more.

  ‘I’m sorry, girl,’ Dusty whispered in the fluffy grey ear. ‘It’s my fault all this has happened to you, but let him ride you. It’s just one more thing to learn. I know you can do it.’

  As Dusty climbed out of the yards she glanced back at the Snow Pony. The mare looked so sad and woebegone, standing like a waif in the dusty yards, that it brought tears to her eyes. She was still teary when she stepped into the bright fluorescent light of the kitchen and her father pulled her on to his knee.

  ‘Don’t be sad, mate. I’ll give her a week. I’ll ride her every day for a week, and if she hasn’t come good by then we’ll have to give her a miss. Okay? Do you think that’s fair enough?’

  Dusty nodded her head sadly. It was fair, but it wasn’t hopeful. She didn’t think the Snow Pony would ever let Jack ride her.

  The Snow Pony stood in the furthest corner of the yards with her rump turned towards the house. Her hay lay uneaten on the
ground, even though she looked pinched and hungry. She didn’t turn as Dusty walked across the yard, calling her softly, but when the girl’s arms circled her neck she sighed and dropped her head. The week was up. Today, when Jack had ridden her, she had bucked as furiously as she had on the first day.

  ‘Poor girl.’ Dusty rubbed her behind the ear. ‘You can’t help it, can you?’ As she stood there in the warm spring evening, Dusty knew she was going to do the thing she had wanted to do ever since her father had started breaking in the Snow Pony.

  She fetched the tack box from the shed and brushed the dust and dried sweat from the mare’s coat, combed her mane and tail and picked out her hooves. She took the crupper off the saddle. She knew the Snow Pony hated it. Then she saddled her, carefully smoothing all the creases out of the saddle blanket and lifting the saddle up slowly on to her back, with the girth, breastplate and stirrups folded over the top so nothing would flap or frighten her. She measured the stirrup leathers against her arm and shortened them to her length, then buckled up the chin strap of her riding helmet and peered through the rails of the yards towards the house. Good, no one was outside. Her parents would kill her if they knew what she was doing. A voice in her head was saying they were right, it was a stupid idea, a childish fantasy that she could ride a horse that had defeated her father. But another voice, a louder voice, said she could do it, that the Snow Pony trusted her, would do anything for her.

  Dusty gathered the reins and a big clump of mane on the Snow Pony’s wither, and moved in very close to her shoulder. ‘Steady, girl.’ She put her foot in the stirrup, keeping her back facing the Snow Pony’s head, and gently swung up into the saddle, trying to copy her father’s calm, economical movement.

  The mare didn’t react as Dusty settled into the saddle and felt frantically for her off-side stirrup. Usually her boot slid straight in, but this was Jack’s saddle, and the iron was in a slightly different spot. ‘Hang on, girl.’ She was shaking like a leaf. So much for staying calm so that the Snow Pony wouldn’t get upset, she thought.

  ‘Gotcha!’ Her foot finally found the stirrup. She took a huge breath, then let it out again, then just sat there, breathing in and blowing out until she stopped shaking.

  The Snow Pony slowly turned her head and looked quizzically at her boot as if to say, ‘Are you right? Are you ready now?’ Dusty laughed out loud and suddenly it felt as if everything was going to be all right. She clicked her tongue and squeezed the Snow Pony with her legs, and the mare moved forward. She felt different from any other horse Dusty had ever ridden: narrow, wobbly and unsure, as though she didn’t know where to go. Horses that were used to being ridden moved off with a purpose – they knew they were going somewhere – but this mare was like a ship without a rudder. Dusty guided her more deliberately with her legs and reins, and it felt as if she was exaggerating everything, but the Snow Pony seemed to like it. It didn’t feel as though she was going to buck.

  Dusty rode her around the yard three times, then turned and went the other way. She stopped and backed her up, then went forward again. The Snow Pony did everything she asked. Finally, Dusty plucked up courage and pushed her into a trot. They did circles and figure-eights in the yard, and all the while the Snow Pony had one ear back listening to Dusty’s voice. ‘Good girl, good girl.’ They were going so beautifully that Dusty thought they might as well canter. So she sat down in the saddle, clicked her tongue and the Snow Pony broke into a canter. It felt as though she was floating, flying through the dust-filled air like an angel. She brought her back to a trot, turned and cantered that way too, then trotted down to a halt.

  Dusty felt so happy it seemed as though her heart was going to jump out of her chest. ‘Oh, you good thing, you good girl!’ She reached down and patted the Snow Pony on her sweating neck. When she looked up she could see the lights of the house glowing yellow in the evening light. ‘Come on, girl,’ she said to her horse. ‘Let’s go and show them.’

  She rode across the open space between the yards and the house in a wobbly line. Everything was very still. The dogs watched from their kennels, without moving. The Snow Pony seemed even more unsure in this much bigger space, and she hung back as they approached the house.

  ‘Okay, girl,’ Dusty soothed, nudging her gently with her heels all the while. ‘Good girl, there’s the gate, and that’s the garage, and here’s the house.’ She could see Rita in the kitchen, through the gaps in the hedge. ‘Whoa, girl, I’m going to yell.’

  Tabby walked out the gate and sat in front of the Snow Pony, staring up with her solemn cat’s eyes, and the mare put her head down to look closer, snorting softly.

  ‘Mum!’ Dusty saw her mother look up. ‘Mum, come out here! Get Dad to come too. I want to show you something!’ She heard them step off the back porch and she called softly to them as she gathered her reins. ‘Talk to me as you come, so she doesn’t get a fright.’

  ‘What are you doing, you crazy girl? What have you …’ Rita’s voice died away as she walked through the gate, and she and Jack stood together in the twilight, staring at Dusty on the Snow Pony. Dusty studied her father’s face anxiously. She had never defied him over anything important, so she didn’t know how he’d react. He had an expression on his face that she’d never seen before, but he wasn’t angry. He looked gobsmacked. The shock on Rita’s face slowly turned into a huge smile.

  ‘You’re incredible. You’re a little bugger, but you’re incredible.’ She turned to Jack and poked him in the side. ‘You’ve got to be proud of her.’

  And Jack slowly smiled too, nodding his head as if to say, yep, you’re right.

  5

  A one-girl horse

  The Snow Pony never tried to buck Dusty off. When she was frightened, she shied or leapt like a scalded cat, but she never tried to lose her. The mare seemed to know that she was Dusty’s horse, and hers alone.

  That spring, when the weather was so hot and dry it almost felt like summer, Dusty rode her nearly every day and the Snow Pony learnt something new each time. Jack didn’t offer help or advice, and Dusty didn’t ask for any.

  ‘It’s as though he hates me riding her,’ she complained to Rita one afternoon. ‘As though we’re invisible.’

  Rita sighed. ‘He’s got a lot on his mind at the moment, with this dry weather. The dams are only half full and summer hasn’t even started. And you know what he’s like. He hates getting beaten and he’s not very good at giving compliments, but I heard him talking to Barney yesterday and he couldn’t stop going on about what a fantastic job you were doing. He’s so proud of you.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Dusty shrugged her shoulders. ‘I guess he’ll tell me one day.’

  After school, Stewie sometimes caught his pony and rode with Dusty. They invented a game called Horse Tiggy where one gave the other a five minute start, then tried to find and tag them. They hid in the garden, the sheds, under the willows that lined the creek – anywhere that provided cover. Stewie’s pinto pony, Tarzan, was so small he could hide in tiny places. Once he hid in the woodshed, and another time, when Rita was out, Stewie rode him right into the house and hid in their bedroom. Dusty saw the curtains move and thought it was the cat, until finally it got too much for Tarzan and he whinnied to the Snow Pony, and gave them away. The Snow Pony couldn’t fit into such small places but she would go anywhere Dusty asked her to, so they found wonderfully unexpected places to hide, like in the back of the truck or on top of the woodpile. She still leapt like a grasshopper if she was frightened, but Dusty had learnt how to hang on.

  One night at the dinner table, when they were talking about that evening’s Tiggy session, Rita butted in. ‘This game is a great way for you to get to know the Snow Pony, but you realise she’s too good to be just a fun horse, don’t you? I think it’s time you started schooling her on the flat and over jumps.’ She turned to Jack. ‘What do you think?’

  He nodded his head, still chewing. ‘If she can jump anywhere near as well as you think she can, she should win every competiti
on between here and Melbourne.’ He forced a smile. ‘It’d be good to have some extra cash coming in.’

  Dusty stared at her plate, shocked to think that her father was counting on her to earn money. It was something they never talked about. In the past there had always seemed to be enough of it. If she and Stewie needed something they always got it: new shoes, new riding boots, new bathers. The money was never mentioned. Lately, though, her parents were forever discussing how much things cost. She suddenly recalled the hard time she and Sally gave Megan Timms about her holey runners in grade four, and blushed because now it was like that for them, the Rileys. There just wasn’t enough money to pay for everything.

  After dinner, when they’d cleared the table and done the dishes, Dusty sat at one end of the kitchen table and did her geography assignment, and Jack and Rita sat at the other end with piles of bills, writing figures in columns and arguing. Rita wanted to set up a new business, Riley’s Mountain Rides, and take people from the city riding on the high plains, but Jack wouldn’t hear of it.

  ‘I’m not running a dude ranch. This land has provided a living for our family for generations without us having to play cowboys.’

  Rita pushed back her chair and pursed her lips. ‘Well I don’t know what you think we’re going to live on, Mr High-and-Mighty. The whole state is short of rain, so we’re not going to get a lot for our calves this year. And look at this.’ Rita slammed her account book on the table. ‘I’ve only had half the normal amount of horses to school this year. No one around here has spare cash for non-essentials. You’ve got to access all that money in Melbourne. People there have more money than they know what to do with.’ She gave Dusty a sneaky smile. ‘They’d pay heaps to go riding with a mountain legend.’