Sir William had decided to take all the C’s for the riding part of the test before he began the stable management and so, in about ten minutes, Nicholas, the first examinee, returned groaning miserably.
“He asked the action of the snaffle on the horse’s mouth,” he told an audience of gazing people and waiting victims.
“How could I know a thing like that? I’m certain I’ve failed.”
“What is the action?” asked Lynne panicking, “Noel, I don’t know either. Oh, tell me quickly, I’m next.”
“It acts on the bars of the mouth and the corners of the lips,” said Noel. “A jointed snaffle has a nutcracker action and half moon and straight snaffles are milder. Curbs and pelhams act on the tongue and the bars of the mouth and curb chains act in the curb groove. At least, I think so,” she added doubtfully.
“Oh, gosh, he’s nearly finished Jean! It’s me next; how awful.”
“Good luck, Lynne,” shrieked the other victims.
“I couldn’t understand a word he said,” Jean told them as rather red in the face, she joined them at a brisk canter. “Honestly, I should think he thought I was half-witted.”
“He wouldn’t be far wrong,” said Christopher. And Noel said, “Don’t be foul, Christopher,” and “Couldn’t you understand the questions then, Jean?”
“Well, he kept repeating them in other words; he tried to be decent. Did he ask you what school you went to, Nicholas?”
“Yes, and how old I was and if Wonder belonged to me and how long I’d had her, I thought that he was going to go on being chatty for ever and not do any examining, but he began all right. Did he ask you the action of the snaffle?”
“Well, he kept mumbling about snaffles, so I told him all the different snaffles I knew and that you should ride young horses in them and jump in them and teach people to ride on horses that wore them. I told him absolutely tons about snaffles, but it was probably all wrong.”
Marion had been the first B to do the riding test and soon she was seen advancing on the horse lines with Colonel Shellbourne and Henry who was carrying a rug and grooming kit.
“Poor Marion,” said Susan.
Lynne had returned from her test and was relating its horrors and Carola and David had ridden away to their respective torture chambers, when four jubilant figures came trotting across the field. “We’ve all passed,” shrieked Sally. “It was simply terrible. I couldn’t remember where the shoulder was but we’ve all passed.”
“Of course you have,” said Christopher. “Everyone passes D. You’ve only got to ride off the leading rein.”
“Oh, we had to do much more than that,” said Sally indignantly. “He asked me all sorts of questions: colours, points of the horse and how often ponies needed to be shod.”
“I couldn’t remember a thing,” said Guy. “I just guessed, but he didn’t seem to mind.”
“I thought I’d failed,” Jonathan told them. “I was all stewed up and when he asked me what my bit was I said double reins. The times Noel’s blown me up for saying that! And then I have to go and say it to the major.”
Marion came over to join the grazing party when Judith had taken her place in the stable management department. “I’ve left Crusoe for a bit,” she explained, “because Frolic gets so madly excited if she’s alone.”
“How did it go?” asked Noel.
“Oh, awful. You should have seen my bandages; I’m sure I’ve failed. Noel, is a feather edge shoe used for a horse that brushes?”
“Yes, were you asked that?”
“Well, he asked me what brushing was and then he asked what I would do if I had a horse that brushed. I said I’d have him shod with feather edged shoes and put brushing boots on him, was that right do you think?”
“It sounds a terribly good answer to me,” said Noel. When all the C’s had finished the riding part of their test Noel and Henry began to get the ponies back into the lines and they set the people who had nothing to do filling haynets and water buckets in readiness for evening stables.
There was a tremendous sensation when Nicholas came rushing to the haystack and shrieking, “Don’t faint, Noel,” announced that he had passed.
“Jolly good,” said everyone.
And Sally said, “That’s five passes.”
Ten minutes later Jean dashed up. “Honestly, he must be mad, he’s passed me. And I dropped everything.”
Henry said, “Look, we’d better take the tack down to the barn and wait there; we’re making a frightful noise. Or at least, you go down with them, Noel. I’d better stay here and make sure there are no hold-ups.”
“O.K.,” said Noel. “Come on everyone, you can make as much noise as you like over there.”
They put the tack away and then they sat on the grass outside the barn and started singing and the people who had passed tests sang even louder than usual. When Lynne appeared shrieking, “Isn’t it super, simply super, I’ve passed!” they sang ‘For she’s a jolly good fellow’ and danced round her in a circle. And Carola, looking very relieved at having passed this time, was given the same treatment.
“Only one C left,” said Jean. “It’s Martin. I do hope they pass him.”
“Oh yes, it would be super if they did,” said Lynne.
“I think it’s mean that we B’s are left in suspense,” complained Judith.
“I’m not in suspense,” said Donald who’d just returned from his stable management. “I got on O.K. with Colonel Shellbourne, but that Barton bloke gave me some jolly odd looks; I should think he failed me flat.”
“Poor Donald,” said Noel sympathetically, “I think tests should be abolished.”
“Put a sock in it, Noel,” said Christopher, “There’d be nothing to work for if there weren’t tests and if people are too drippy to pass that’s their look out.”
“Yes, they do make one do some work,” agreed Marion.
“Here’s Poppy,” said Judith. “One more and we shall know the worst. How did you get on, Poppy?”
“Oh, shocking, you should have heard the things they asked me; the grooming one got quite cross, he said I’d kill my horse with colic; I don’t know what he was on about; it was shocking.”
“It sounds as though you put your silly great hoof in it all right,” said Christopher.
And Lynne said, “Oh, Gosh, how awful.”
“It sounds as though you got the principles of feeding and watering mixed up,” remarked Noel.
“Oh, well, there’s always a next time,” said Susan brightly.
Martin lightened the atmosphere by dashing up to tell them that he’d passed. “Sir William said that it was a bit of a near thing, but that my pony didn’t look too easy to ride. I’ve always told you that it wasn’t fair that I always have to ride Mousie.”
“Well, you know you can’t manage Fireworks,” David pointed out.
“I can William though.”
“You mean you can spoil him,” said Christopher. “You can undo all my schooling; no thanks, I want to be in the Inter-Branch team.”
“You’re a mean selfish beast.”
“I’m not. If you weren’t such a feeble little drip you’d school Mousie. I used to jump her in shows when I was your age.”
“I bet you had three refusals.”
“I did nothing of the sort,” said Christopher, who was beginning to lose his temper, “and if you don’t shut up and stop cheeking me I’ll make you.”
“You shut up yourself,” yelled Martin.
“Children, children,” said Nicholas assuming his diplomatic manner and putting himself between them.
“It’s Martin’s fault,” said Marion.
“That’s a whopper,” objected Guy.
“Shut up everyone,” said Noel. “Gay’s coming and that means the examiners’ll be here in a minute.”
“I shall die of suspense if they don’t hurry,” said Judith.
“I shan’t,” said Donald.
“It was simply terrible,” shrieked Gay, co
llapsing in a fit of giggles on the grass. “I thought I should die of laughing. He got the giggles too—oh, dear, it was terrible. Noel, have you got a handkerchief? I’ve lost mine.”
“It’s not fearfully clean,” said Noel handing her one.
“Did Colonel Shellbourne really get the giggles?” asked Donald. “I wish I’d seen him.”
“Well, I forgot I was being examined and I kept asking him questions,” explained Gay weakly. “He asked me about bedding and I told him seven kinds and then I said to him, well do you know any more? And he thought for ages and then he said he didn’t think he did. Then I asked him if he thought stable bandages gave horses mud fever and suddenly we both got terrible giggles.”
“Here they are,” said David. “Now we’re for it. Hold your hats on.”
The examiners were all talking to Major Holbrooke at once. “Well, dammit George, I can’t pass a kid that’s going to feed six pounds of oats at one feed and water the horse afterwards; the girl’s a menace,” roared Colonel Shellbourne.
“Only one doubtful one,” said Sir William, “and the pony seemed a bit of a handful so I decided to pass him.”
“They all sit well, George, nice deep seats, and they’re quiet; we don’t see any of that kicking and flapping here, I wish I could say the same for William’s rubbish dump.”
“Fail her, Harry, fail her by all means,” said the major, “You can fail the lot if you like; it won’t hurt them.”
“But, dammit, I don’t like failing them,” protested Colonel Shellbourne.
“Well, you can’t expect me to make up your mind for you. You and Julian examined them, the decision rests with you.”
“Fail her,” said Captain Barton, looking at his notes, “she can’t ride that black animal of hers forward. My pet aversion is people who ride backwards.”
“There’s the devil of a lot of them about,” said the major.
“Yes, and this dressage business simply encourages them,” roared Colonel Shellbourne. “In my day you simply rode across country, you had to go; none of this jiggery pokery business. Half of these dressage fellows don’t know whether they’re coming or going.”
“I agree with you, Shellbourne,” said Sir William.
“Heresy among the visiting commissioners,” joked Captain Barton, “I shall report this to headquarters.”
“Dressage is all right,” said the major, “you can’t blame an art for the failure of its artists.”
“Don’t mention artists to me, can’t stand the fellows; only old Munnings, now, he can paint,” roared Colonel Shellbourne.
“Let’s put the members out of their misery,” suggested the major.
“Yes, I’ll tell them,” answered Captain Barton. “Shellbourne’s launched on art. We’re sorry to say that we had one failure among the B test candidates,” he told the pony club members. “For a silly, but rather vital mistake, we had to fail Poppy Newland. Everyone else passed.”
8
ACCORDING TO plan, the camp came to life half an hour later on Sunday morning and, for once, most of the members slept on until they heard Henry’s whistle. This was because of the feasting which had taken place in every tent on Saturday night to celebrate the passing of tests. The feasts had been intended to take place at midnight, but most of the celebrators had become impatient long before that; even so it had been near twelve when the youngest people fell asleep.
The members began to muck out in a more leisurely fashion than usual for a Sunday peace lay across the fields, the harsh noise of tractor and combine was stilled and the sun already blazed down from a sky of deep cloudless blue.
“It’s going to be simply boiling this afternoon,” the members told each other. “What’s happening this afternoon?”
“Parents’ Day and the camp gymkhana.”
“Oh, gosh!”
Christopher was the first person to remember the camp competition and, hastily finishing his mucking out, he ran down to the barn. He returned in a state of frustration.
“Those blasted Oranges have got ahead again,” he told his section. “They’re six marks ahead of us now. I don’t know how they do it. The Blacks are only one mark behind us and the Reds are jolly close, even those feeble Greens are nearer. We shall have to do something or we shan’t be anywhere. I think Henry and Noel add it up all wrong; the major ought to do it instead of letting them muck about with it. Or else we should be allowed to see the marks and check them for ourselves.”
“Don’t panic,” Jean told him. “Honestly, Christopher, you do go off the deep end about nothing. Everyone knows that the sections without duties always get behind, that was us and the Blacks yesterday, so of course the Oranges have got ahead.”
“I’m not panicking,” said Christopher furiously. “And I’ve had just about enough of your cheek. You’re getting a jolly sight too big for your boots; someone ought to take you down a peg or two.”
“Spare us from mixed metaphors before breakfast,” begged Henry who was walking up and down the lines. “What with adding and dividing the Marathon marks of the inspecting generals and then being kept awake by sounds of riotous living from the boys’ tents, I’m not feeling equal to much this morning.”
“Clever, aren’t you?” said Christopher disagreeably. “You’ve got a hangover from midnight feasting.”
Henry told him, “Try some Rose’s lime juice.”
“Go to the devil,” said Christopher.
James told Jean, “I wouldn’t worry about him; he’s always throwing his weight about. You ought to hear what my eldest sisters say about him.”
“I’m sorry for David and Martin,” said Jean,” Honestly, just think, having to live with that!”
“We’re the water-filling lot this morning, aren’t we? asked James. “We’d better hurry up or we shall have Christopher flapping again.”
“Oh, honestly,” said Jean, “he makes me sick. Anyway, we shan’t win, the Oranges are a much better section than us.”
The Oranges could not resist feeling pleased with themselves. “Six marks ahead of the Blues isn’t bad going,” said David.
“No, it isn’t, considering that we’re on line guard today. Monday’s our dangerous day,” Judith told the rest of the section, “We haven’t got a duty, but the Blues haven’t either. Then we’re both on again on Tuesday, but that’s only half a day and I don’t know whether it will count.”
“Oh, please, Judith, don’t mention Tuesday,” asked Penelope. “I’m trying to forget that it exists.”
“Time does pass quickly here,” observed Gay, “I hadn’t realised it before, but we’re simply miles over half-way.”
David said, “A week’s not long enough, you hardly get settled in before it’s time to go home.”
“It’s such fun, that’s the trouble,” added Judith, “a week of school just drags.”
The Blacks maddened the Blues by shrieking, “We’re creeping up on you,” every time they met any of them; Jonathan and Guy were feeling especially frivolous and Marion and Lynne had great difficulty in getting them down to the barn to lay breakfast.
“If we could just move up one more place,” said Susan to her section, “then we’d be third and I’d be quite satisfied, but the trouble is that the Oranges, Blues and Blacks are all so good.”
“Perhaps one of them will do something simply terrible,” suggested Sally hopefully.
“The Greens may go and do something simply brilliant,” Nicholas pointed out, “and then we shall be last. You can’t trust Donald; it’ll probably be him who rescues Noel from drowning.”
“Oh, goodness,” said Susan. “You’re not still on about that.”
Martin had decided that he would clean Henry’s best riding boots for him.
“He’s bound to give me a good mark,” he told Donald, “and we don’t need many to catch up the Reds.”
“That’s mark grubbing,” objected Donald. “You can’t do it, Martin; even the Greens can’t sink to such depths; it’s better to
be last.”
“I don’t see why I shouldn’t,” argued Martin. “Nicholas fetches Merry’s hot water and I bet that gains the Reds a mark, and Marion and Lynne made Henry’s bed yesterday.”
“Only out of the goodness of their natures or to satisfy their maternal instincts or something,” Donald answered. “Marion told me herself that it wasn’t for marks.”
“Well, I bet they got some anyway, and it’s only fair that if the other sections do it I should be allowed to.”
“Oh, all right then, clean his beastly boots,” said Donald tired of argument. “And Poppy and Margaret can fetch Noel hot water and make Merry’s bed and I’ll carry round a red carpet and unroll it in front of the major.”
“No fear,” said Margaret. “I can only make apple-pie beds,” and Poppy said, “They wouldn’t give me good marks for my bedmaking—it’s shocking.”
“It’s no use trying to get marks out of Noel,” Nicholas told the Greens. “I’ve tried every approach, but she says that she only gives them when she is certain there is no ulterior motive and she says that being last will be good for our characters.”
“Tell that to the Blues,” said Donald, and, “Well, who’s going to have the nicest characters, us or you?”
“You, I hope,” said Nicholas, “Ours are so nice already they don’t need much improvement.”
Everyone felt very peculiar dressing for church in full riding kit with hard hat, which was what the major had decreed. But, when they gathered round the flagpole between the barn and the horse lines and the vicar handed out the hymn books, it didn’t seem so odd.
The ponies listened attentively, especially to the hymns and afterwards Noel told Henry that it reminded her of a poem in which only a bullock and a donkey went to church and the parson went on with the service.
Pony Club Camp (Noel and Henry Book 5) Page 11