by Stacy Gregg
“I saw it, Aunty Hess!” Issie said. “The Grimalkin. At least I think I did. It was on top of the cattle pens and then it was gone… If we’d only got there sooner…”
Hester put her arm around Issie. “Isadora, thank heavens you didn’t get attacked by that thing. If you two and the dogs hadn’t turned up and scared the Grimalkin off when you did, it may have hurt even more of the animals. Aidan, are all the animals safe for the night?”
“I’ve checked all the horses,” Aidan told her. “They’re all OK. I’m going to take one last check around the farm now and make sure everything is secure before I go back to bed. You two go inside and I’ll see you both in the morning.”
Hester nodded. “I’ll report this to Cameron first thing. Come on, sweetie, it’s two o’clock. Let’s get you inside and back into bed. I’ll make you a hot milk to help you sleep.”
The hot milk did help. Issie didn’t wake up again until nine a.m. When she finally came downstairs to breakfast Aidan was waiting for her at the kitchen table.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Ummm, OK, I guess,” Issie replied.
“I checked all the animals again this morning,” Aidan said. “They’re all fine. Whatever it was that killed Meadow is hopefully long gone…”
“If we’d only got there in time to save her…” Issie’s voice was wobbly. She felt like she might cry and fought hard to hold back the tears.
“I still can’t imagine what kind of animal would make those wounds.” Aidan shook his head. “When Cameron arrives you can tell him what you saw and he can take a look at Meadow – maybe he’ll have some ideas.” Aidan picked up his riding gloves from the kitchen table and stood up.
“Meanwhile, we’ve got training to do.” He smiled at her.
“We? You mean you and me?” Issie squeaked.
“Sure,” Aidan said. “Didn’t Hester tell you?” He looked at Issie’s shocked face. “I guess she didn’t. OK. Well, I’ll head down to the stables and get the horses ready. You have some breakfast and then meet me at the round pen. We’re doing some trick training.”
“Really?” Issie felt a shiver of excitement run up her spine.
“See you there in fifteen!” Aidan said, already disappearing out the door, heading for the stables.
Issie felt almost too nervous to eat. Trick riding! It was just like in the movies. She managed to calm her butterflies enough to cram down a piece of toast and jam and then ran all the way down the driveway to the stable block where Aidan already had Diablo, Blaze and Paris saddled up and waiting at the side of the round pen.
“This is where we do most of the stunt training,” Aidan explained. “I’ve been working on this stunt lately, I call it a ‘Flying Angel’. I’ve been training Paris to do it with Diablo, and she’s pretty good, but it’s important that she can do the same trick with other horses and riders too. So I thought maybe today you could try it with her and Blaze?”
Issie nodded. “Umm, Aidan?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“What exactly is a ‘Flying Angel’?”
Aidan grinned. “It’s hard to explain. It’s probably easier if you let me show you.”
Aidan tied Blaze up outside the round pen and then he rode Diablo into the arena, leading Paris beside him. The wood-lined walls of the round pen were about two metres high and above them, circling the arena, were two rows of wooden bench seats. Issie climbed the stairs and sat down in a front row seat, watching silently as Aidan worked the horses in. He trotted back and forth in the middle of the arena on Diablo, keeping an eye on Paris, who was also wearing a saddle and bridle as she cantered riderless around the arena.
“Do you see how she’s cantering in a circle like that?” Aidan called out to Issie. “She’s been trained to do that. It makes it easier to do the trick if she’s got a steady stride.” As he said this he clucked Diablo forward and the black and white Quarter Horse began to canter behind the palomino.
Issie watched as Aidan cantered Diablo right up next to Paris so that he was riding neck and neck with the palomino mare. The two horses fell into step together, matching each other stride for stride.
Aidan smiled up at her. “Here we go!” he called out. And with that, he let go of Diablo’s reins and sat bolt upright in the saddle with his arms spread out to either side for balance. Aidan rode one more lap around the round pen with his arms out. Issie could see him counting the beat in his head, figuring out his moment. Issie noticed that he was edging Diablo closer to Paris now, so that the piebald gelding was almost touching the palomino. Suddenly Aidan slipped his feet out of the stirrups and pivoted in the saddle, turning his body to face the wall. He cast one last look up at Issie, gave her a wave and then leapt.
Issie couldn’t believe it! There was a split-second when Aidan was in midair that she imagined the worst. He was going to fall and get trampled beneath Paris and Diablo’s hooves. Then she saw Aidan grasp Paris’ saddle with both hands and deftly swing his leg over the mare’s back. Before she knew it, Aidan was in the saddle on Paris with the reins, which had been knotted around the palomino’s neck, in his hands. By the time he rode around the arena to where Issie was seated he had a grin on his face and was waving to her as he went by.
Issie stood up, clapping wildly. “That was amazing!” she called out to him.
Aidan pulled Paris up in the centre of the arena and saluted to Issie, while Paris dropped to one knee underneath her rider, bowing theatrically.
“That,” Aidan said, “is a Flying Angel.”
He dismounted from Paris and walked over to Diablo, who was standing waiting for him. Then he led both horses up to the side of the arena and looked up at Issie. “Come on then – it’s your turn. Why don’t you bring Blaze into the arena and have a go?”
“But I don’t know how…” Issie began.
“The only way to learn is to do it,” Aidan said. “It’s all about timing. You need to get Blaze into a rhythm next to Paris, then move them close, drop your stirrups and jump.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Issie said. She could feel the butterflies in her tummy going berserk now.
“Yeah, well, it is simple once you’ve done it a few times. But the first time I made the jump was pretty hairy,” Aidan admitted. “Are you ready to give it a go?”
Issie untied Blaze from the hitching post and led the mare in through the sliding wooden doors on to the sawdust floor of the round pen. As she put her foot in the stirrup, Blaze danced nervously.
“Easy, girl, it’s OK,” Issie cooed.
“I’m going up there to watch,” Aidan said, gesturing to the stands above the arena. “Paris knows what to do – she’ll just keep cantering around the arena. All you need to do is ride Blaze up next to her and make the jump.” Issie nodded silently and as Aidan rode out on Diablo she turned Blaze around to face the palomino.
“Gee-up, Paris!” she called, waving her arms to get the mare moving on to the perimeter of the arena. Paris instantly reacted just as Aidan had said she would, high-stepping into a graceful canter, staying close to the wooden walls of the round pen.
As soon as Paris had cantered twice around the ring and settled into a steady stride, Issie clucked Blaze on and rode the liver chestnut mare out to join her. At first Blaze flinched a little as she edged closer to the palomino. Then she seemed to understand what Issie wanted her to do and fell into a brisk canter next to Paris, running neck and neck alongside the pretty palomino.
“Steady, girl, that’s it…” Issie said. She knotted Blaze’s reins now, and then, very carefully, she let go. She was riding now without any hands, her arms floating up and up, helping her to balance so that eventually she was sitting straight up in the saddle with her arms spread out like angel wings.
“Now, turn your body to face Paris and drop your stirrups!” Aidan shouted at her from the side of the arena.
Issie looked up at him and gave him a quick nod. She did as he said, slipping her feet out of the st
irrups so that she was now riding with the irons dangling at her feet. She turned her torso to face the wall and looked at the rise and fall of the palomino’s empty saddle. She had to jump into that saddle. All she needed to do was reach out her hands and make that leap from Blaze’s back on to Paris. Issie took a deep breath and counted down – ah-one, ah-two, ah—
She froze. She couldn’t do this! It was crazy. She looked down and saw the horses’ hooves churning beneath her on the sawdust floor of the arena. What if she fell? She would get trampled beneath Paris’ hooves for sure!
“Come on, Issie! What are you waiting for?” Aidan called out. Issie felt her skin turning clammy, her tummy was churning with butterflies.
“Calm down,” she told herself. “You can do this!”
She put her hands back out again and focused on getting back into position. Then she edged Blaze closer to Paris once more and waited until the two mares were matching each other stride for stride. Ah-one, ah-two, ah… noooo!
Issie pulled Blaze up to a halt. She could feel her heart beating like crazy, her palms were wet with sweat and she was trembling.
“Issie, Issie are you OK?” Aidan ran into the arena, his face grave with concern. “What happened? Why didn’t you jump?”
Issie shook her head. “I don’t know, Aidan. I thought I’d be able to do it but then I looked down and…”
“It’s OK. Honest.” Aidan smiled at her. “It’s a pretty advanced stunt. It was probably too soon to ask you to try something like this. Don’t worry about it. Really. We can try again some other time.”
Aidan reached out to take Blaze’s reins as Issie dismounted, but she was still holding them and instead of grasping the reins he found himself holding Issie’s hand instead. There was a moment when Aidan and Issie were locked together, holding hands. Then the pair of them jumped back from each other and stood there looking embarrassed.
“Sorry, I mean, I didn’t mean to…” Aidan stammered.
“No! I mean, that’s fine…” Issie replied, looking at her feet. “I umm… I’d better put Blaze away now.” She hurriedly led the chestnut mare out of the arena and back to the stable block, leaving Aidan standing there with Diablo and Paris.
“Ohmygod, could that have been any more embarrassing?” Issie murmured to Blaze, burying her head deep into her pony’s mane as they stood together in Blaze’s stall. Not only had she chickened out on doing the Flying Angel stunt, she had held hands with Aidan! This was just the worst!
Untacking Blaze quickly, Issie slipped out the back door of the stable, hoping she stood less chance of running into Aidan again if she went out that way. Then she ran across the lawn, up on to the porch and in through the back door of the manor.
As she walked towards the kitchen she thought for a moment that Aidan had somehow got back there before her. She could hear a man’s voice in the kitchen talking with Aunt Hester. When she got nearer, though, she realised the voice didn’t belong to Aidan.
“Isadora! Is that you? Come and meet Cameron,” Aunt Hester said. “Cameron is the head ranger for the Blackthorn Hills Conservation Trust.” Her Aunt smiled at the sandy-haired man in the khaki jacket sitting next to her at the table. “Cameron, I’d like you to meet Isadora, my favourite niece. She’s the one who first sighted the Grimalkin up on Blackthorn Ridge yesterday.”
“Is that so?” The ranger looked at Issie.
“Well, kind of…” Issie said. “Something was there and it chased me and my horse, but it was hidden by the trees so I never actually saw it. I just heard it.”
The ranger cocked a suspicious eyebrow at this.
“But I did see it last night!” Issie added hastily. “It was right there on top of the cattle pens just before we found Meadow. It was balancing on the top of the wooden railings, running along them like a cat.”
“Could it have been a cat?” Hester wondered.
“Ohmygod no! Not a normal cat. It was enormous. I mean, really huge,” Issie said. “Bigger than Nanook even.”
“Did you see what sort of an animal it was?” Cameron asked.
“Umm, not really. There was a full moon but it was still very dark. It was black, I think, and it had a long thick tail, but I couldn’t really see much more than that. It disappeared pretty fast and then Aidan found Meadow and…” Issie’s voice trailed off as she remembered the awful events of the night before and the gruesome discovery of poor Meadow.
“Could have been a stray dog,” the ranger assessed. “We’ve had a couple of reports of stock loss lately. Once a dog gets the taste for blood, they’re trouble.”
“It wasn’t a dog,” Issie said firmly.
The ranger looked at her again. “Well, whatever it was, we’ll find it. I’m going to take a couple of men up to the ridge today and we’ll try and track it.”
“What will you do if you find it?” Issie asked.
“We’ve got long-range rifles. Our men are trained sharp-shooters,” he said coolly.
“Would you like more coffee, Cameron?” Aunt Hester offered the ranger. “Issie, why don’t you join us?”
Issie sat down reluctantly next to the ranger as Aunt Hester poured more coffee from the pot for herself and their guest.
“Anyway, I didn’t come here just to look for your… what did you call it? A ‘Grimalkin’?” the ranger told Hester as she sat down again. “You know the Conservation Trust has been concerned for some time now about the damage the Blackthorn Ponies are causing to the native wildlife.”
Hester nodded.
“We’ve been discussing the problem for months now. The Blackthorn Hills district is rich with rare native flora. There are species of lichen and moss here that simply don’t exist anywhere else in the world. It’s our job as the Conservation Trust to protect the land,” the ranger continued.
“But the ponies have been here for years, Cameron. Why is the problem suddenly so urgent now?” Hester asked.
“Numbers, mostly. The cold winters have usually kept the herd numbers down but the Blackthorn Ponies have been thriving for the past couple of years. There’s twice as many as there used to be. It looks like we have no alternative but to undertake the cull immediately.”
Aunt Hester looked shocked. “You realise that as the chairwoman of the Save The Blackthorn Ponies Group I’ll be fighting any action you plan to take at the highest level—”
Cameron cut her off. “Hester, we’ve been through all this a million times already and you know it. I’m not here to ask your permission. This cull has been debated and now it’s been officially rubber-stamped. There’s nothing you can do any more. Telling you today was only a formality. I thought you’d want to know since the herd often run on your land. We’ll have our men up here next week to get the job done.”
“What are you talking about?” Issie squeaked. “What do you mean by a cull?”
The ranger looked up at Issie. His face was grave. “You have to understand that these Blackthorn Ponies are hard to catch and almost impossible to manage even if we could get our hands on them, Isadora. We need to get them off the land, and as far as the Conservation Trust is concerned, that leaves us with just one solution. We’ll have to shoot them.”
There was silence in the kitchen for a moment. Issie looked at the ranger to see whether he was joking, but his eyes met her with a deadly serious gaze.
“Aunty Hess!” Issie gasped. “You can’t let them! This is your land! They can’t shoot all those beautiful horses! You can’t let him kill them! You just can’t!”
Hester looked distressed. “Do you think I haven’t fought this tooth and nail, Issie? I know how upset you must be; I’m upset too. This debate has been raging a long time now and our action group have fought this all the way, but now it seems like this may be the only solution. Cameron is right. These ponies are destroying rare wildlife – species that may not survive for much longer. If we can’t stop them – if we can’t catch them – then this may be the only solution.”
“But what about the
ponies? What about their survival?” Issie said.
“I know. I know. I wish there were a way to save them,” Hester said. “Cameron has tried in the past, you know. They are fiendishly difficult to catch and it takes an expert horseman to manage them. They’re wild, Isadora, not at all like your typical riding ponies. And even if we could save the herd, what on earth would we do with them all?”
“Still, there must be something we can do, Aunty Hess!” Issie insisted. “What about the black stallion? What if he really is Avignon’s son?”
Aunt Hester went quiet at this. When she finally spoke she seemed enormously sad, “He’s a wild stallion, Isadora. The last time you went out there he tried to kill you. I simply don’t see what we can do to save him. It’s too risky. Someone might get hurt.”
“Honestly, Isadora, we wouldn’t be doing this if we hadn’t exhausted our options,” Cameron said. “It’s a very humane—”
“Humane? It’s murder! These are ponies we’re talking about! Beautiful ponies! Some of them are just foals! I can’t believe you’re doing this!” Issie turned to her aunt. “And I can’t believe you won’t stop him!”
And with that she stormed out of the kitchen, charged up the wide wooden stairs and ran into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Issie lay on her bed for a long time staring at the portrait of Avignon that hung above the fireplace, wondering what she should do. She couldn’t believe her Aunt was actually agreeing with the ranger. I mean, maybe they couldn’t save all the ponies, but they had to try, didn’t they?
Issie stood up from her bed and walked over to the sash window that looked out over the back veranda down to the stables. Aunt Hester was right. The stallion was dangerous. The last time Issie and Blaze had faced the black horse he had tried to attack them. But really, that had been Issie’s fault. She hadn’t been ready for him. This time, though, she would be. She could take a spare halter, some carrots to tempt the ponies…
Issie paused for a moment. Then she walked across the room to her wardrobe and got out her jodhpurs and boots. She pulled on a light jersey over her T-shirt in case the weather turned and grabbed her backpack. She climbed out of the sash window on to the veranda of her room and was about to shimmy her way down the fire escape to the lawn when she heard voices below her.