“If you want,” Paul, who usually took them down, answered in a sulky voice. “I’m not going to.”
“Good morning, all,” said David, stopping the Land Rover in the lane while he counted them. “Did anyone do any running or swimming yesterday?”
“My stepfather bullied me into jogging with him,” answered Hanif.
“I went swimming, but the pool was rather full so I couldn’t work out my times,” explained Tina. “I did quite a lot of lengths though, with rests in between.”
“No one else?” asked David as the other pony club members looked at each other guiltily and shook their heads.
“Oh dear, I did mean to run,” moaned Lizzie, “but other things kept happening and then we had to tack clean.”
“I meant to go to Woodbury pool,” said Alice, “but Harry was out and it seemed rather dreary to go on my own. I’ll call you next time, Tina,” she added as they followed the Land Rover into the field.
“I’ll be in next time,” objected Hanif.
“Well then, we can all three go together,” said Alice.
“I want to concentrate on the shooting this weekend,” Seb told James. “We can swim and run on Monday.”
“Form up the ride,” called David as he climbed out of the Land Rover.
Lynne and Paul watched enviously as Netti drew back to let Tina go ahead of her, and the tall blue roan took his place behind Rosie. They were the only people left on little ponies.
Of course, Tristram was only a tiny bit taller than Berry, Lynne admitted to herself unwillingly, but he was such a super pony, well-schooled and a good jumper, that he had always counted as a big one. While Berry—well, everyone said that she was really a harness pony. That hadn’t mattered when the whole pony club had been useless, but now, if there were going to be teams and everyone was getting good at dressage and jumping, she and Paul were going to be left behind.
Paul felt himself burning and seething with indignation as he rode round, but he didn’t try to sort it out, to put it clearly into thoughts and words. He let himself be taken over by rage, his mind repeating the same thought again and again, It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair.
“Come on, let’s have some impulsion,” said David, settling himself on his shooting stick. “Get those ponies at the back overtracking.”
They rode the usual circles and serpentines. They practised shoulder-in at the walk and then attempted it at the trot. Only Sarah, Lynne, Tina and Paul failed completely. David, roaring ferociously, said that it was because they didn’t sit deep and really use their legs, and then sent them back to practising at the walk.
“Now,” he said, calling the ride to a halt just as all the riders felt they were about to collapse with exhaustion. “In this Tetrathlon cross-country, and I take it we are still entering, though no one seems to be training for the rest of it with much enthusiasm, you have to open and shut a gate and take down a slip rail. We are going to practise both of them,” he went on, ignoring Hanif’s cries of horror. “But, before we do so, I want to make sure that you all know the correct way to rein back.”
“That puts me right out of it,” said Rupert in a mournful voice. “Rosie’s totally useless at gates.”
“The slip rail puts me out.” Hanif sounded even gloomier. “Jupe will never stand for me to mount when he’s excited.”
“Shsh!” Lesley glared at them. “Some of us want to hear what David’s saying.”
“ … not an exercise you want to practise too often, generally one is better employed teaching the pony to go forward, but, as it’s necessary for practical reasons like gate opening the pony must learn it,” said David. He looked along the ride. “I need a demonstration pony.”
“Ferdie’s not bad, my mother taught him,” offered James.
“Right. Well, you walk round half the school while I explain what you’re going to demonstrate,” David told him and turned to the rest of the members. “It sounds dotty, but the rein back must be ridden as a forward movement. You remember that I’m always yelling at you to ride forward into your halts? Well, you ride the rein back in the same way. Your legs ask him to move forward, your hands tell him no. Prepare to halt, James. Good. Now rein back, four steps and walk on. Good.”
David turned to face the line of riders. “The pony stayed on the bit, his head was in the correct position, he was straight and calm. His only mistake was taking one more step than I asked for. O.K., James, when you’re ready, halt and rein back again. This time I want everyone to watch Ferdie’s legs and tell me what time he reins back in.”
The pony club members watched carefully as Ferdinand, a serious expression on his dark brown face, reined back sedately.
“Two time,” shouted Sarah as soon as she had seen the first step.
“More or less two time,” agreed Hanif cautiously.
“Right,” said David. “He moved his diagonally opposite legs in pairs, which gives the movement its elegant, fluid look. Reining back in four time, that is, one leg at a time, is horrible to watch and incorrect. Give Ferdie a pat, James, and do try to look up. Who’d like to try next?”
Seb and Hanif hesitated, so Alice rode forward on Saffron. She halted carefully, for though he seemed to have given up stargazing, he sometimes went above the bit. Then she used her legs again, asking him to back. Saffron’s head went up, his mouth opened, he laid back his ears.
“Don’t upset him,” said David. “We know he’s had problems. But once a pony’s head is up, it’s more difficult for him to back as he’s thrown his weight on to his hind legs. So you ride forward and halt again, Alice. Try saying ‘Back’ in a long-drawn-out voice. Good. One step is plenty to start with. Pat him and ride forward.” David turned back to the watching riders. “Don’t be too demanding,” he told them. “If something is difficult for your pony, be content with very little at first: one step, then, when he’s giving you that willingly, ask for two.”
Seb who tried next, was inclined to pull on the reins. “No, don’t use force,” David told him. “Your hands are only to give him a signal; they’re explaining, not making him go back. It is difficult for an unschooled horse to grasp what you mean—your legs say forward, your hands say no—but once you’ve taught him, once he understands, he’ll remember the aids for the rest of his life. So, take your time and use your brains rather than your strength.”
Seb’s second attempt was better, though Jigsaw backed grudgingly and without impulsion. Then Hanif bounced round on Jupiter, who refused to stand still for a second, twirling frantically every time Hanif mentioned the word “Back”.
“Relax, Harry,” called David. “It’s always the same with you. You’re the one who goes stiff and gets worked up, then you pass it on to the pony. It must be you, because Jupiter didn’t know he was going to be asked to do anything new. Ride him round until he calms down. Come on, Lizzie, let’s see what you can do.”
To everyone’s surprise, Rajah, wearing his wise expression, reined back soberly and correctly. Lizzie patted him delightedly as David shouted, “Good! Well done, Lizzie. And you looked up.”
Stardust was good too, though she hadn’t quite enough impulsion, and David made Lesley ride on at a trot before she halted for a second try. Then it was Rupert’s turn. “Rosie’s hopeless,” he said, riding up to David. “She’s convinced that it’s totally impossible for her to go backwards, and we’ve wasted hours trying to teach her open gates. I’ll be a terrible disgrace to any Tetrathlon team, you’ll have to leave me out.”
“I realize it’s difficult for her,” David answered calmly “She’s so very long between the hip and hock, which isn’t exactly helpful when you want your hindlegs under you. Still, we should be able to produce a step or two. Have a try, let me see what happens.”
“Nil,” said Rupert, walking on and then halting. He use his legs and declaimed, “Back, back, back,” in soothing tones. Nothing happened. Rupert’s face turned red; Rosie’s wore an obstinate expression. Then suddenly, as his legs became more insi
stent, she opened her mouth as far as the dropped noseband would allow, and charged forward.
“O.K., she’s resisting you,” agreed David. “Either she doesn’t understand the aids or she’s objecting because the movement is so difficult for her. To make it absolutely plain, take her over and face that overgrown hedge.” He pointed to a section of the hedge which hadn’t been layered and was about twelve feet high.
“Never use a gate or a low fence,” he added, turning to the other pony club members, “because you’ll find yourself jumping it from a standstill, or stuck on top. Keep trying, Rupert. Be kind but determined, and no pulling on the reins as that’s counterproductive.” David looked across the school to Hanif, “Are you calm?”
“Not really, but I’m less uncalm,” answered Hanif.
“Well, that’s something. Let’s see you have another go.”
This time Jupiter reined back, but he took five or six rapid steps before Hanif could stop him.
“O.K., pat him. But it should be a controlled movement, one step at a time. The last thing we want to do is to teach ponies to run back, for they can then use it as a defence or disobedience against their riders. In future, ask for only one or two steps and then try to ride forward. But you’ll have to give very light and tactful aids, he’s not an easy pony.”
“She’s taken one step,” shouted Rupert from the hedge, “but though I made a terrific fuss of her, she’s now forgotten the aids again.”
“Ride round a bit in between,” David shouted back. “Who’s next?” Netti and Tristram reined back perfectly and were followed by Sarah and Bowie.
“Yours is a super little pony,” said Seb, looking at Tristram admiringly. “He does everything. Doesn’t having him make you a bit swell-headed?”
“No,” Netti laughed. “He was Rupert’s before he was mine. Once, Rupert could do everything, but look what’s happened to him now he owns Rosie.”
David was telling Sarah that Bowie was one of those ponies which ought not to practise reining back at all—he had already discovered that it could be used as a defence. But as it was essential for gate opening, he just wanted to see her take one or two controlled steps.
“Now, very, very gently,” he reminded her, “the lightest possible aids. You can always increase them. And I shouldn’t be able to see them, it should look as though it’s all done by magic.”
Sarah scowled. “Oh come on, Bowie,” she said impatiently.
“You’re confusing the pony,” David told her patiently. “You must say what you mean, which is ‘Back’.”
“Back!” shouted Sarah in a cross voice, and Bowie ran back several steps in an equally abrupt manner.
“O.K. it wouldn’t do for a dressage test, but if you keep him calm you should manage a gate,” David told her, and then turned to Rupert who was calling him from the hedge.
“Look David, she can do two steps. Back,” Rupert went on, applying the aids carefully. But Rosie stood obstinately, a baffled look in her large, toad eyes. “Sorry, I really thought she had got it this time,” added Rupert in a mortified voice.
“Keep trying,” said David and smiled one of his rare smiles at Tina, who rode into the centre of the school feeling cast down by her failure to produce even one step of shoulder-in at the trot.
“How do you like my pony?” he asked. “I think he’s going rather well with a strange rider in a strange place.”
“He’s lovely,” answered Tina, patting the blue-roan neck, “but I’m not used to such a big pony; he feels a bit strange.”
Vulcan reined back in a slow and stately manner, and then red-roan Berry took his place.
“She should know all about it, having been in harness,” observed David. Berry backed briskly, rather too briskly. “Not quite controlled enough for a dressage test,” said David, “but great for gates. Now you, Paul.” Paul was inclined to pull on the reins, but as soon as David persuaded him that this was counterproductive, Banjo backed neatly.
“Right.” David heaved himself off his shooting stick. “Form up the ride, walk round the school, and when we halt I want everyone but Sarah to rein back four steps and walk on. We’ll let Rosie off with one or two steps,” he added, turning towards Rupert.
“You’ll be lucky. Without her hedge she’ll never remember the aids,” Rupert answered despondently.
There was a distinct improvement in almost everyone’s rein back. Saffron stayed on the bit; Jupiter still rushed back, but he was very nearly straight and didn’t twirl at all; while Rosie, to Rupert’s delight, produced two small, grudging steps.
“Good, that’s very encouraging,” said David. “Now, cross-country stirrups and we’ll do a little cantering before we go out on the course.”
“About time too,” said Paul in a dissatisfied voice. “He’s not left much time for jumping.”
“Shush,” Lizzie told him, a shocked expression crossing her face, “David’ll hear.”
“Who cares.”
Soon they were cantering round, circling, going faster and slower, changing the rein with a couple of trot strides at X to change the leg.
“Right,” said David when he had called the blowing and steaming ponies to a halt. “Now we’re going to have a couple of warm-up jumps, then we’ll add a slip rail and a gate to the course, and we’ll finish up with a new fence.”
“A new fence?” asked the pony club members, standing in their stirrups and looking across the two valley fields.
“Where, David? Where?”
“You’ll see when we get to it, meanwhile could some of you go and build a fence in front of the bank? Mr Roberts and I left some poles and drums there, but we didn’t have time to build it.”
Half the ride volunteered and cantered on ahead, sailing confidently over the slip rails. Tina took them down for the Land Rover and by the time she’d climbed back on Vulcan, thanked Seb who had waited for her, and cantered over to the bank, the first jump was ready.
“Can everyone remember how to jump banks?” asked David.
“Yes.”
“Yes, of course we can.”
“The point is, do the ponies remember how to do it?” observed Rupert, ramming his crash cap on hard.
“Take a lead,” David told him, “and you, Sarah. Lynne, if you let Berry run out I may not be responsible for my actions.”
“He means he’ll turn purple with rage and probably kill you on the spot,” Rupert threatened Lynne.
“If he does, he’ll have Dad after him,” she answered coldly. “And it isn’t my fault that Berry’s not much of a jumper.”
“Right, James, over the poles and drums, over the bank, large circle round and, when the course is clear, come again. Anyone who refuses, get out of the way and wait.”
James set off with Ferdie looking full of impulsion and confidence. They sailed over the drum jump and negotiated the bank neatly. Seb followed, looking much less confident, and he patted Jigsaw gratefully when they had landed safely down from the bank. Jupiter started fast, but then seemed to remember that banks needed care and steadied himself, jumping prudently and with pricked ears. Saffron and Alice both looked as though they were enjoying themselves. Rajah was slow and careful, Stardust not completely confident. Bowie refused.
“Clear the course!” shouted David, as Sarah kicked and shouted at the agitated pony. Tristram whirled past Bowie and took the bank fast but neatly. Rosie pricked her ears, flung herself on and off and then gave a series of triumphant bucks as she raced after Tristram. Banjo made his usual stag-like leaps, Berry ran out. David was shouting insults at Lynne as the ride came round again. This time even the less confident ponies looked happy, and Lynne, who had joined on behind, rode with much more determination and went over with a shriek and a scramble.
“Well done,” David shouted. “Make a fuss of the ponies.” Then he limped over to Sarah. “What’s the trouble, Sarah?” he asked.
“It’s no good, he just won’t.” Sarah sounded tearful. “He’s got a phobia.”
“I don’t care what you do, he’s a beastly pony and I hate him. I don’t care what my mother says,” Sarah flung herself off Bowie. “If she won’t change him I’ll have to go back to Chess.”
“Supposing you swop with Tina.” David seemed to be taking Sarah’s tantrum calmly. “Tina,” he called, “let Sarah try my pony will you? And I’d like to see you on Bowie. You can both have a ride round while the rest of us practise the slip rail. Now,” he went on as the other pony club members gathered round, “try and see this slip rail business from the pony’s point of view. If you gallop up to those rails he’ll assume you want to jump them and, if you do, you’ll clock up sixty penalty points. So, explain that you’re going to dismount. Instead of half-halting in preparation for the approach, take your feet out of the stirrups, dangle your legs down in an obvious manner and say ‘Whoa’. If you have a nut like Jupiter, don’t approach the rails head on, but from a slant. Three signals that you don’t want to jump. O.K.? For the gate, you won’t want to abandon your stirrups, so say ‘Whoa’ and use the slant approach, coming up to the hinge end of the gate and then riding alongside it.”
“What happens if the pony won’t jump the lower rail?” asked Rupert. “Can you take it down too?”
“I suppose so, but you’d waste a lot of time,” answered David.
“Jupe will jump it, but I’ll never get on again,” moaned Hanif.
“Off you go, James, and remember to say ‘Whoa’ in the right sort of voice. Shouted briskly it sounds exactly like ‘Go’ to ponies. And when you’re through the slip rails you can go on and jump the stick heap and the uphill log,” he shouted after James.
The first three riders, James, Seb and Alice, had no problems, but Rajah was slow to understand what was expected of him and insisted on inspecting the rail carefully before making a large, cautious leap.
“Give him some practise at home,” David, who’d driven over to the rails, told Lizzie. Rosie was even slower: she seemed to think it impossible that she should jump from a standstill and without a rider. Eventually, after a lot of dithering and some shooing from David, she crawled over, one leg at a time, knocking down the pole.
Pony Club Challenge (Woodbury Pony Club Book 2) Page 8