Horsenapped!

by Bonnie Bryant

  “What was that?” Lisa asked.

  “A whirling dervish!” Stevie observed.

  “Somebody who didn’t know what he was doing,” Carole added. “It was reckless to push that wheelbarrow right behind Topside. Donald hasn’t been here long enough to know if Topside is a kicker or not.”

  Lisa looked down the aisle at the quickly disappearing Donald. Carole was right and it was puzzling. Everybody knew that horses had individual personalities. Some could be quite dangerous if you weren’t careful. Donald hadn’t been careful. He’d been lucky. Topside was a great horse, almost unflappable. But if Donald had pushed the wheelbarrow that close to Starlight’s rear, he’d have stood a good chance of making an aerial exit from the stable!

  She shared the thought with Stevie and Carole.

  Stevie laughed. “Maybe that’s how he seems to fly around here all the time, doing seventeen chores at once!”

  “Then we’re in good shape,” Carole said. “All we have to do is two at a time.”

  “How’s that?” Lisa asked.

  “Well, first of all, we have to win blue ribbons; and second, we have to find some missing horses—three of them, to be exact!”

  Stevie’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Aha, the game’s afoot!” she declared, borrowing a phrase from Sherlock Holmes. “I think we ought to have a Saddle Club meeting.”

  “Definitely,” Carole agreed. “Let’s finish our grooming and then get to the hayloft so I can tell you about my adventures this morning. Something tells me we shouldn’t talk here.”

  “Aha,” Stevie said. She spoke conspiratorially. “The stalls have ears!”

  A FEW HOURS later, Lisa was ready for competition. At least she hoped she was. She’d spent the first part of the morning grooming Pepper, and the last part of it hearing about Carole’s early-morning ride. At a time when she should have been able to focus solely on the competition, her mind was a total jumble of horse-related confusion.

  The cross-country ride was a three-mile trail through fields and forest, up and down hills and over obstacles. The idea was to complete the course in a specified amount of time, negotiating all of the obstacles properly. It wasn’t a race. In fact, taking too little time cost points. The rider had to maintain an even pace. Max had given all of the entrants a map of the course the day before and they’d all been allowed to walk it if they wanted. The Saddle Club had been so busy worrying about Garnet that they had only walked the course once.

  Lisa was afraid that not covering the course a second time would hurt her chances, but a look at the map told her it probably wouldn’t make any difference. She and Carole and Stevie had spent many hours riding through the fields and woods and over the hills around Pine Hollow. She knew the land around there pretty well as it was.

  “Can everybody hear me?” Max asked. There were fifteen entrants in the junior cross-country. They stood around Max in a circle. “I’m going to go over the rules a final time and then we’ll have the draw for positions.”

  Lisa knew that position could be very important in a ride like this. Whether you went first or last or in the middle could make a difference in your performance. What she couldn’t figure out was what position was the best for her. She didn’t have time to think about that now. Max had lots to say.

  “The course is three miles long. The trail is marked by red stakes. You should have no trouble following it. There are ten obstacles in it. They include two times across the creek, one low jump over a stone wall, one steep climb up a section of hill, and another steep climb down. In addition to these five natural barriers, there are five artificial jumps. Four of them are in the field. One is in the woods. Red and I have ridden the course several times. It’s safe and, we think, fun. It’s not long. It should take you about fifteen minutes at a steady canter. In fact, it should take you not more than seventeen minutes, nor less than thirteen. Those are your time limits. If you come in either faster or slower, you’ll get penalty points. You also get penalty points if your horse refuses an obstacle or if you fall. If you complete the course without a mistake, within the time limit, you don’t get any penalty points. Is everything clear?”

  The riders nodded and then they all looked around at one another. Lisa had the feeling each of them was wondering if any of them could make it through without a fault. Eventually, it seemed that everybody was looking at Carole.

  Max then pulled out a bowl filled with slips of paper containing each rider’s name. He began the draw, explaining that two or three riders would be on the course at once and that they’d start at four-minute intervals.

  Max reached into the bowl, picked the first scrap of paper, and announced, “Lisa Atwood.”

  Lisa could feel herself get nervous. It started in her stomach and then traveled quickly to her knees.

  “Oh, you poor thing. I hate going first!” the girl next to her said.

  On her other side, Stevie gave her a squeeze. “You’re so lucky! Just think, you’ll be the first person on the trail and you get to set the standard the rest of us have to come up to.”

  Lisa, who was pretty much of an optimist under any circumstances, decided she liked Stevie’s way of looking at the situation. She smiled confidently. The minute she did that, her knees felt better and her stomach steadied.

  Then, fifteen minutes later, she was in the starting area.

  “Remember,” Carole told her reassuringly. “This is a case where it’s really true that ‘slow and steady wins the race.’ ”

  “Good luck!” Stevie said.

  “On your mark,” said Mrs. Reg, Max’s mother. She was the starter for this event. She checked her timer. “Get set.” She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and held it high. “Go!” She brought the handkerchief down quickly. Lisa was off.

  The course began in the fields behind the stable. Lisa knew the fields well. She looked at the path as it was laid out. It was very level. This, she decided, would be a good time to set the pace she wanted to keep throughout the course. Pepper was cantering, as he was supposed to be, but, she felt, his canter was a little sluggish. When he broke into a trot, she knew that was the case. She signaled him to canter again, by touching behind his girth with her right heel and this time, she also maintained pressure on his belly with her left calf.

  It worked. Pepper’s canter was an even and smooth rocking gait when he did it right, and it was Lisa’s job to make him do it right. She’d accomplished that. She was pleased.

  Lisa spotted the first jump. It was only about eighteen inches high. It was eighteen inches across, too. Lisa prepared herself. She shifted her weight a little forward and then, as they approached the jump, she shortened her reins and rose in the saddle, leaning forward, parallel to Pepper’s neck. At just the right moment, he rose in the air and cleared the fence handily. Lisa straightened up as Pepper neared the ground and felt herself slide right back into the saddle where she belonged.

  “Ten!” she told herself proudly, although in this event, there were no points for doing a good or better or even perfect jump. The idea was to get over it and stay on the horse. She’d accomplished that, too.

  The next jump was higher, but not as wide. It was a lot lower than many jumps she’d taken, but it was higher than the last one. Because of that, it seemed to loom a lot higher than she knew it was. The rule of thumb in jumping was that the horse should take off about as far from the jump as it was high. This was almost a three-foot jump. Pepper’s front feet should leave the ground about three feet from it. Lisa couldn’t help herself. Because the jump looked so high, she got prepared for it too soon. Pepper, always an obedient horse, did exactly what she asked him to do. He took off almost five feet in front of it. Fortunately, he also did what he knew he was supposed to do. He made it over the fence, but just barely. Lisa listened for the sound of a hoof hitting a wooden bar and sighed with relief when she didn’t hear it.

  “Three!” she said out loud, scoring herself harshly. In a way, though, she felt that the mistake helpe
d her. It reminded her that she could make mistakes—even bad ones—and she’d have to pay attention. She’d been lucky once; she might not be lucky a second time.

  After the second jump, the trail turned uphill toward the woods. And there, right before the path entered the woods, was the third obstacle. It was a steep bank about three feet high. The horses couldn’t jump it or even go around it. They had to climb it.

  Pepper slowed to a walk and, without hesitation, began the climb. Lisa let him do the work. The only thing she had to do was stay in the saddle. To accomplish that, she leaned forward, almost to his neck. Up he went. “Ten,” she said, but she knew it was Pepper who had earned it, not her.

  The path through the woods and across the creek was a familiar one. She and Stevie and Carole had ridden it many times. On summer days, they liked to stop at the creek, take off their boots, and cool their feet. This was a hot summer day, but there was no time to stop. Pepper looked longingly at the fresh water.

  “Later,” she told him. “Do what I tell you now, and I’ll give you a whole bucketful of water when we get back to the stable.” He didn’t hesitate. He proceeded right through the shallow, but swift, water and they continued along the trail.

  There was a long straightaway ahead, and a jump coming up, Lisa knew. Max hadn’t marked the map with the jumps, but logic told her this would be where they would find the first jump set up in the woods. In preparation for it, Lisa brought Pepper to a trot so she could control his canter from the start. She signaled for a canter with one foot and kept the opposite calf on him. It worked like a dream and it paid off when they rounded the bend in the trail. There, just where she’d suspected she would find it, was a two-and-a-half-foot-high jump. Lisa and Pepper sailed right over it.

  “Ten,” she told Pepper. This time, she took some of the credit for herself.

  The trail followed the contour of the hill and then descended again to the creek. Lisa let Pepper walk across it and then began cantering again. She was having such a good time with his pleasant rocking gait that she barely noticed they’d almost reached the field again. Suddenly, Pepper slowed. He’d seen something she hadn’t. He’d spotted the sharp descent and if he’d gone at it at a canter, he could have taken a serious tumble. Instead, Lisa was unprepared for the sudden change of gait and she was afraid she was going to take a serious tumble.

  It wasn’t easy to maintain balance when you weren’t prepared for a gait change, especially when that also meant the horse was climbing down a sharp hill. Lisa slid forward precariously and tilted off to the right. She clasped with her knees, but she was afraid it was too late. She tried to shorten the reins. She couldn’t, though, because Pepper was using his head for balance and he needed freedom of movement. Lisa could feel herself going. She had to do something. She did the only thing she could do. She grabbed onto Pepper’s mane and held on for dear life. At that point, she completely lost her seat and she could feel her left leg coming right over the saddle. She was going down!

  Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Pepper had managed to get down the hill and he was standing level, apparently waiting for Lisa to do the same. Quickly, she adjusted the weight on her right stirrup and used that, plus leverage from Pepper’s mane, to push herself back up and into the saddle. She found her left stirrup with her toe, settled into her seat, nudged Pepper with her heels, and it was as if nothing had ever happened.

  “Nice recovery!” said a voice behind her. Lisa looked over her shoulder. It was Red O’Malley.

  “Oh, thanks,” she said.

  “You’re ten minutes out and you’ve got three to seven minutes to finish the course,” he said. “You’re doing fine and you’ll make it. See you later.”

  With that, he seemed to disappear behind a bush. That was when Lisa remembered that all of the obstacles had judges at them, checking to make sure that the horses and riders made it over or across safely. It was Max’s policy to have the judges out of the way. They weren’t exactly hiding, but they weren’t in obvious places. Lisa had just been so busy giving herself and Pepper scores that she’d forgotten about the judges altogether until Red had spoken. Lisa felt a flush of embarrassment. Then she shrugged her shoulders. What did it matter? She and Pepper had made it over all of the obstacles safely. That’s what counted.

  Lisa nudged Pepper into a canter. It was slow and easy, just right to clear the next two jumps. Five minutes after she’d seen Red, she rode smoothly across the finish line.

  “Go!” Mrs. Reg said to Anna McWhirter, who was just starting the course. Anna and her pony bolted across the starting line, heading for the trail Lisa had just completed.

  “How was it?” Stevie asked excitedly. “Did you have any trouble?”

  Lisa grinned. “Nah,” she said. “It was just like you told me. I set the mark you all have to come up to.”

  “How many faults?” Stevie asked suspiciously.

  “None,” Lisa told her.

  “I knew you could do it!” Carole said. She leaned over from her perch on Starlight and gave Lisa a hug. “This is your event!”

  “Oh, you’ll both do wonderfully, too,” Lisa said. “And I wish I could be out on the course watching you.”

  “No, there’s something more important you have to do,” Stevie said.

  “Oh, what’s that?” Lisa asked. She was suspicious because the look on Stevie’s face said it was something mysterious. Then Lisa remembered that there was something mysterious going on—the horsenapping.

  “Stevie, you’re next!” Max said sharply.

  “Wish me luck!” Stevie said, waving to Lisa and Carole.

  “You’ve got it!” Carole assured her.

  Carole watched Lisa walk her horse to cool him down near the starting line waiting for Stevie to get the go-ahead signal. While they waited, Lisa told them both as much as she could about the trail and the obstacles. She particularly warned them about the downhill obstacle coming out of the woods. Then, Lisa and Carole cheered Stevie on until Mrs. Reg’s handkerchief flew downward and Stevie headed for the first jump. The last thing Lisa and Carole saw before Stevie was out of sight was that she was aimed too far to the right for the first jump.

  “Oh, no,” Lisa said.

  “Don’t worry,” Carole told her. “Stevie will do just fine. She always thinks of everything. Now, here’s what she’s thought of for you …”

  CAROLE WAS HAVING a hard time. It was easy for her to tell herself that this was Starlight’s first competition and he’d do better in the future. That was something that was easy to say, but it wasn’t very comforting. Starlight wasn’t doing well and Carole was sure it was her fault.

  He’d refused one jump because he’d been startled by a butterfly just before he was supposed to jump. Then, he’d insisted on getting something to drink in the creek. Both times, Carole thought she saw the judge pursing her lips. That was all she needed! Taking a drink in the creek amounted to a refusal. Now, about halfway through the course, Starlight was suddenly hurrying. She’d have to bring him in at a walk not to beat the time, and walking on the open trail was breaking gait under Max’s rules. That meant another fault.

  “It’s okay, boy. I know you’re doing your best. You did okay yesterday. You just like the showy events better, with lots of people in the ring to admire you, right?”

  As if to answer her, Starlight approached the next jump smoothly and cleared it by at least two feet.

  “Ahh,” Carole said. “You’ve heard that there will be jumping tomorrow. You want to win that one? Okay, then, I’ll give you a chance. But for now, let’s finish up properly. I want a nice, even canter.”

  Starlight responded to her voice. Max always told his riders that their horses couldn’t understand English. And although Carole thought there were some things they understood very well indeed, they all understood tone of voice. Carole suspected that Starlight was as disappointed in his performance as she was in hers. He seemed glad to know she wasn’t angry with him. Now she looked at
her watch and held her breath. According to her watch, she’d been on the trail for twelve and a half minutes. Would it be possible for Starlight to take thirty seconds to cross the short stretch of field to the finish line at a canter? She held her breath.

  “Thirteen minutes, fifteen seconds,” Max said as she crossed the finish line.

  Carole let out her breath. She might have more than a few jump faults, but at least she and Starlight had made it in within the time limit.

  Carole dismounted and walked Starlight around the paddock to cool him down. Several of the other riders were doing the same thing. She expected to see Stevie there, too, but she wasn’t in sight.

  As she came around the second time, she saw both of her friends, standing at the fence. At first, she thought they were waving to her, but they weren’t. They were waving at her. They obviously wanted to talk to her. Maybe they’d heard about her poor performance on the cross-country course and they wanted to console her. She was fine, though, really. She just waved back.

  The flailing arms didn’t stop. Carole turned Starlight around and walked to her friends.

  “It’s Veronica!” Stevie hissed.

  “Yeah, she’s not there!” Lisa added.

  This didn’t make much sense to Carole. Right before she’d left on the cross-country course, she’d told Lisa that she should call Veronica, on some pretext. The girls wanted her to talk to Veronica to see if, by any chance, the horsenappers had gotten in touch with her. If they had called Veronica, then it was a sure bet they’d called everybody and then there would be nothing The Saddle Club could do to help the horses. It would be totally in the hands of the owners and, maybe, the police.

  “What are you talking about?” Carole asked.