CHAPTER ELEVEN.
HOW TO RIDE.
"Poor old chaps!" cried Nic, as the dogs leaped and tore about when heleft them, each straining at its collar with starting eyes, and utteringin unison a piteous howl which could only bear one interpretation:
"Oh, I say, it's too bad! Don't keep us tied up like this."
Nic was ready to pity them again a few minutes after, when, in obedienceto a shout and the crack of a whip, the sleek oxen, which stood yoked,blinking and chewing their cuds, started for the day's march, tighteningthe dogs' chains. Then the collies sulkily allowed themselves to bedragged along by the neck for a few yards before, feeling thatresistance was in vain, they gave up and began to start barking inprotest, running forward as far as their chains would allow under thewaggon, as if longing to get at the oxen's heels, and finally, after aloud yelp or two at one another, settling down to their prisoners'tramp.
The horses were bridled and saddled after Nic had taken his gun fromwhere it had been stood against a tree. The two men were in front ofthe team, with Brookes talking loudly and unpleasantly to his fellow;and the black was following behind the dogs, with his spear over hisshoulder, at times lowering it to stir the dogs up behind whenever theyshowed an inclination to hang back.
This happened a minute after the start had been made, and Nic burst outlaughing.
"I say, father, look at that," he cried.
"I was looking, my boy," said the doctor. "That fellow seems tounderstand the dogs better than we do."
For, at the first touch of the spear, one of the collies turned roundsharply, and barked; then the other received a prod--from the blunt endin both cases--and the bark uttered was exactly like a protesting"_Don't_!"
But the black, who was safe from attack as long as he kept beyond thereach of the chain, continued to administer pokes, with the result thatthe dogs trotted on as far as they could, looking back the while anduttering threatening barks and growls.
But the long spear followed them right under the waggon, and kept up theannoyance, till, as if moved by the same impulse, the dogs charged backtogether to the extent of their chains, and the black made a bound outof the animals' reach.
The result was that when, after a final look round to see that nothinghad been left, the doctor gave the order to mount, the dogs were rightunder the waggon, with their tongues out, tugging away at their chainsas sharply as if they had been born in Kamtschatka and belonged toEskimo.
"That's better," said the doctor, as Nic landed in his saddle withoutmaking a show in imitation of vaulting ambition and seeming about tofall over on the other side. "Down again, and mount."
Nic obeyed.
"That's worse," said the doctor. "Dismount. Now again!"
Nic dismounted, and mounted once more.
"Not so good as the first time, Nic. There, take your gun. Mind: neverdo that! It's the worst of high treason to let your gun-muzzle point atanybody."
"I beg pardon, father."
"Granted, on condition that you are more careful for the future," saidthe doctor, springing into his seat in a way that excited his son'senvy.
"Shall I try again, father?"
"No; it will only fidget your horse. Come along. What a gloriousmorning! We'll take a sweep round, and meet the waggon three or fourmiles on."
The sun was now up, and sending its brilliant rays horizontally beneaththe great trees, making every branch and leaf glow; and, as Nic's nagpaced gently along, the boy felt as if he were riding upon the gloriouselastic air. He felt very little of the stiffness, only a bit soreinside the knees, where they were pressed against the saddle.
As they passed in among the trees the waggon was soon lost to sight, andNic glanced again and again in its direction.
"Afraid we shan't find our way back to the waggon?" said his father.
"I was thinking something of the kind," avowed Nic.
"Ah, that is a great danger away in the bush, and you may as well knowit; but we could not go very far now without finding a track or somestation."
"A police station?"
"No, no," said the doctor, smiling. "We have police here--mountedpolice--to look after the convicts and mind they don't escape; but wecall farmhouses-squatters' places--stations here. Our home--BlueMountain Bluff; as we named it--is called a station by my neighbours."
"Then you have neighbours, father?"
"Oh yes, a few miles away. Mr Dillon, the magistrate, Leather's lateemployer, is the nearest--ten miles distant."
"Then home must be a very lonely place."
"We have never found it so, Nic," said his father drily. "Busy peopleare never lonely. Now then, I think I've behaved very well to you andspared your feelings. I promise that I will not laugh at you."
"What about, father?"
"Your first essay at trotting. It is of no use to keep a horse and rideat a walk. You can progress as fast as that on your own legs."
Nic drew a deep breath, and wished that he was bestriding a donkey onthe common near the Friary, with his schoolmates looking on instead ofhis father.
"I'm ready, father," he said.
"Wait a few minutes. I want to accustom you to holding your gun onhorseback. You will always have either a gun or a stock-whip, but Idon't want you to begin your career as a squatter--"
"I say, father, what a horrible name that is for a sheep farmer!"
"`A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,' Nic. `Squatter' doesvery well; and I say I don't want you to begin your career by shootingyour father or his horse. So you shall have a shot at something. Youwill not be afraid to fire your gun?"
"Oh, I say, father!" said Nic reproachfully, "don't--please don't thinkme such a miserable coward."
"I don't, my lad--nothing of the kind. I only treat you as a raw ladwho has to be trained to our ways."
"But you expect me to shoot you as soon as I begin to trot."
"I don't mean you to, Nic. But such a thing is quite possible when youfall."
"Then you think I shall fall," said Nic ruefully.
"Certainly, if you lose your balance and do not hold tight."
"But you told me not to hold!" cried Nic.
"With your hands. They are to hold your reins and gun. A horsemanholds on with his knees; and I suppose yours are a bit sore?"
Nic nodded.
"Then make up your mind not to fall; but we'll have that gun emptyfirst. You shall have a shot at something."
Nic drew rein sharply, and his horse stopped and shook its head, andchamped the bit impatiently.
"Don't check your horse like that, boy!"
"I only pulled the reins, father."
"Yes, as if his mouth were made of wood. You would soon spoil him, andmake him hard-mouthed, if you jerked the bit about in that fashion. Ahorse like this is extremely sensitive. You only need just feel hismouth with the rein, and he will stop at the slightest additionalpressure, just sufficiently to make him understand what you want. Well,why are you making a face like that?"
"I shall never learn all this," cried Nic; "I'm too stupid."
"And you have ground away at algebra and Euclid! What nonsense! Come,be more ready to take a right view of things. Horses are extremelyintelligent animals, and love their masters if properly treated. Theyare wilful at times, and then have to be punished; but I never strike orspur my horse without good reason. Now look here, Nic: this is not toshow off, but to let you see what can be done with the animal, which isone of man's most valuable friends out in these wilds. Now watch!"
The doctor threw the reins on the horse's neck.
"I want to go to the left."
To Nic's astonishment the horse bore away to the left, and his ownfollowed suit.
"Now I want to go to the right." The horse turned in that direction.
"Now I want to turn right round."
The horse turned right about.
"Now straight back."
The horses began to return upon their tracks, Nic's
eyes following everymotion.
"Now round again, and forward."
Once more the horse, turning right about, went straight forward, SourSorrel taking pace for pace.
"Why, it's wonderful, father!" cried Nic. "Australian horses mustunderstand plain English."
"Well, they are English bred," said the doctor, laughing. "Twenty yearsago there was not a horse in the country. But now, tell me, why did youcheck your horse?"
"To get down so as to shoot."
"Nonsense! Fire from his back when I tell you."
"But it will frighten him, and he'll gallop off, and I shall be sure tofall."
"It will not frighten him, for the horse will stand like a rock, knowingwhen you are going to fire. You can rest your gun between his ears ifyou like, only you could not get so steady an aim. It's quite true.That nag is beautifully broken. I reared him from a foal and trainedhim expressly for you."
"Thank you, father; but I think I would rather ride yours."
"Why?"
"He seems so much better trained."
"Not so well, boy."
"But tell me: how did you make him go any way you wished?"
"The simplest way in the world. Let your reins drop on his neck."
Nic obeyed.
"Now press the side with your right leg. That's right. Now with theleft. Good. Now keep on with the pressure, and the nag will turn rightround. Now press both legs together. Very well indeed. Now you seethere is no magic in the matter."
Nic was astounded, for the horse had acted just in the same way as hisfather's.
"Let me tell you another thing. If you jump down--no, no, don't do it--but if you jump down, pass the rein over the nag's head and throw it onthe ground: he will stand perfectly still."
"Without the rein being fastened to a peg or tree?"
"Yes. Try it when you get down. Now you see you are learning to ride.But I want this trot, so be ready for your shot. Cock your gun."
Nic made the lock click, and felt a thrill of anticipation run throughhis nerves.
"Whit shall I shoot at, father?"
"Well, you may as well practise at something running or flying."
"A bird?"
"Yes, if you see a good specimen. You may as well collect some of ourbeautiful birds. Wait a bit: I dare say we shall see something beforelong."
They paced on for about a quarter of a mile, and then a large animal wasstartled from out of some bushes, made a flying leap, and then went offin a series of tremendous bounds, and all the faster for the shot Nicfired and which whistled through the air over its head.
"A good miss, Nic," said his father.
"Didn't I hit it, father?"
"No, my boy--not with a single shot, even. But you see your horse didnot move."
"I forgot all about that," said Nic. "I suppose that was a kangaroo,father?"
"No doubt about that, Nic. They can go pretty well, eh?"
"Tremendously. But what an enormous tail!"
"Yes, it seems to act like a balance and a support when they land, forthey go almost entirely upon their hind legs. But I meant you to havetried for a shot farther on, where there is a bit of river and some lowdamp ground. You might perhaps have secured a goose for our supper, orhad a shot at one of the snakes, which like the moisture. But come:here's a good open stretch of land. Let's have our trot. Keep yourheels down, sit fairly well up, and don't think about falling. If youdo come off, it is a very little way to go, and the horse's pace willtake him clear of you. Now then, turn those stirrups over his back."
"Oh, father! let me keep my stirrups."
"Certainly not; they would not help you a bit, only prove a danger to anovice; and remember this: once you can ride without stirrups you canride with. Ready?"
Nic reluctantly turned the stirrup leathers across.
"Yes, father," he said, rather hesitatingly.
"Then off!"
The horses started at the pressure given by the doctor's heels, and thenext moment Nic was bumping about in the saddle, slipping first a littleto one side, then to the other, making attempts to get over on to thehorse's neck, and having hard work to keep his gun well across hisknees.
It was hot, breathless work; and moment by moment Nic told himself thathe must come off; but he did not, and went on bump, bump, bump, bump,conscious that his father was watching him from the corners of his eyes.
"I do wish he'd stop," thought Nic, as the nag trotted steadily on; andthen the boy thought of the Kentish common and the games they had hadwith the donkeys--when, almost as soon as a boy was mounted, anothercame to tickle the donkey's tail with a piece of furze, with the resultthat the animal's head went down, its heels up, and the rider off on tohis back, perhaps into a furze or bramble patch.
"But there's no one behind with a furze or bramble," thought Nic, whobegan to find the trot not so very bad, when, to his horror, his fathercried out "Canter!" and, with the horses snorting and enjoying themotion, away they went in and out among the trees, the docile animalskeeping pace together, and avoiding the dense parts by instinct.
"Now I am off," said Nic to himself; but to his surprise he kept on,finding the canter a delightfully easy pace, and that it was far lessdifficult to keep his seat in the saddle, the swing was so pleasant,elastic, and rhythmical.
This went on for a good quarter of a mile, until the trees grew moreopen and patches of scrubby bushes appeared in their way, when, beforehe knew it, Nic's steed, instead of avoiding a clump about three feethigh, rose at it, bounded over as lightly as a kangaroo, and came to adead stop on the other side, for it had lost its rider.
"I didn't mean that," said the doctor, pulling up and turning back.
"Here, Nic, where are you?"
"Here, father," said the boy dolefully, as he rose from where he lay--down among the thick brush.
"Hurt?"
"I--I don't know yet. No; I don't think so, father. Here, my gun'sgone."
"There it is, sticking up among the bushes. I'll get it," said thedoctor; and pulling his horse sidewise, he reached over and drew out thegun.
"Now then, where are you hurt?"
"Nowhere," said Nic, forcing his way out to where the nag stood, takingthe reins, and after pulling down the near side stirrup, climbing intothe saddle.
At that moment there was a clapping of hands, and he turned to find hisfather applauding him.
"Bravo! Good!" cried the doctor, with his eyes flashing. "I like thatpluck, Nic. Why, boy, you did wonderfully well. You are as rough ascan be in the saddle. But really, you only want confidence: you canride."
"Can I, father?" said Nic dubiously.
"Can you? yes. You must have had some practice."
"Only playing tricks on the donkeys, father, down in Kent."
"Of course. That's it! Why, Nic, I have only got to polish you.Ready?"
"Yes, father."
"Then let's canter on."
Oddly enough--paradoxically as it may seem--that tumble on to theelastic bush took away all Nic's nervousness, and now he began to enjoythe delightful motion of the easy-paced nag, with the wind fanning hischeeks, the sun seeming to flash by him, and the soreness about theknees forgotten.
Everything about looked bright and glorious; and when, about eleveno'clock, they cantered up to the midday halting-place in a clump ofgums, where the oxen had just been unyoked, Brookes and Leather stoppedfrom their tasks to stare, and the black was so surprised that he forgotto stand on one leg, but watched the horsemen with wide-open eyes,standing upon two.
First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales Page 11