Pony Club Camp (Noel and Henry Book 5) Page 2

  “After this I don’t know you,” Mrs. Quayle told Judith. “And if I control myself and don’t come fussing after you like an old hen, you’re to fight your own battles and not come Mummying after me.”

  “Oh, really, Mummy. How old do you think I am? About twelve?” asked Judith. “Mind you cook us some decent food,” she went on. “I don’t want everyone grumbling and remember, you’ve promised, no fish pie.” Frolic didn’t think much of being in the horse lines by herself. She was fidgeting about and tugging at the iron scaffolding. Henry and Noel parked the Land Rover beside the barn and walked across to her.

  “No wooden block, no quick release knot,” observed Henry. “Where’s this Judith person? We’ve got to begin as we mean to go on.” He produced a whistle and blew it until Judith appeared at the door of the caravan; then he shouted at her to come over.

  While Henry was demonstrating to Judith the correct way to tie a horse, the Luciens arrived. Nicholas and Jonathan hadn’t been members of the West Barsetshire branch for very long, but Noel knew them because they had been in her ride at one of the rallies when the major made her instruct, and because they had bought both Susan Barington-Brown’s outgrown ponies, Golden Wonder and Black Beauty.

  Noel was holding Beauty and Wonder while the Luciens searched their luggage for their wooden blocks when the Millwoods came trotting across the field, looking very smart on the two greys—Noel’s Sonnet and their own Biddy.

  “Have you your head collars and your wooden blocks?” Henry asked them. “And do you know how to tie quick release knots?”

  “Oh, yes,” answered Gay. “Noel’s been teaching us.”

  After the arrival of the first lot of members there was a lull until three o’clock when a contingent from Gunston arrived: Poppy Newland on Jackdaw, Carola Birkett on Amber and the two Barkhams, whom they had met on the way over, riding their hired ponies—Smudges and Star.

  Poppy and Carola, who were both fifteen and went to the same school, were very vague about quick release knots, but they were nothing to the Barkhams. Sally let Star go with the reins round her neck and the bridle round her forefeet and Guy put Smudges’ head collar on upside down and back to front. It took the combined efforts of Henry, Noel and the Millwoods to sort them out.

  Then Marion Hunter appeared on her bright bay Crusoe and with her came Lynne Aldworth on a little pony called Rob Roy which she had borrowed from a farmer.

  Henry was trying to keep the horses and ponies which were to be fed on oats at one end of the lines, but there were all sorts of complications. “Sonnet has oats and Biddy doesn’t,” explained the Millwoods, “but they must be together—they’re friends.” Jackdaw and Amber both had oats, but they were enemies. Frolic was having a squealing match with Beauty and Judith was beginning to fuss and suggest moving her.

  “Leave her alone,” said Henry. “Go away and ignore her. You must give them a chance to settle down.”

  At half-past three Donald Edge arrived on Seafire. “Hurrah, another grey,” said Gay. “Please, Henry, put him next to Sonnet and Biddy, we must have all the greys together.”

  “Now I am not arranging them by colour schemes,” answered Henry firmly. “If we have the greys together then the people with chestnuts will start. Who are you?” he asked Donald. “Have you your head collar and wooden block?”

  “We’re getting on,” Henry told Noel as he took advantage of a moment’s respite to tick off the newest arrivals on his list. “No Mintons yet though.”

  “They’ve got such miles to come and I should think their ponies will be absolutely dead after hacking all the way to the show and back yesterday,” said Noel.

  “Yes, if they’d had any sense they’d have left them overnight with Uncle George.”

  “Here’s Susan,” said Noel. “Tranquil’s terribly fat,” she went on, as Susan rode towards them. “I suppose that’s the reason Truant beat him yesterday.”

  “‘Here I am, last as usual, I suppose,” shrieked Susan gaily. “Goodness, it really looks like a camp now. Where shall I tie Tranquil?”

  Susan was closely followed by Margaret and James Radcliffe and Penelope Barr riding her chestnut pony Pickles and accompanied by her mother on a bicycle.

  Henry took charge of Margaret, who began to argue about where Northwind should be tied, and Noel helped Penelope.

  “We’re getting on famously,” Henry told Noel a few moments later. “Here are the Mintons and that’s the lot bar someone called Joy Boon. Have you seen anything of the administrative staff?”

  “Adjutants and such-like?” asked Noel. “No, not a sign; perhaps they’re helping to get tea.”

  “Most unlikely, I should think,” said Henry. “Unless Merry has changed beyond all recognition.”

  Christopher Minton said that if he’d been Henry he’d have put the seniors’ horses at one end of the line and the juniors’ at the other and then he said that he knew a better knot than the quick release one—it couldn’t come undone.

  “What jolly fun if we had a stampede,” observed Henry sarcastically. “The whole point of the quick release is that if anything does go wrong we can undo it. Anyway, it’s District Commissioner’s orders.”

  “Look, Noel,” said Henry when he had settled the Mintons, “we’re going to have evening stables before tea tonight. In fact at four o’clock, by which time everyone is supposed to have arrived. The idea is that the ponies will then settle down and behave themselves while we have tea and Uncle George gives his pep talk.”

  “O.K.,” said Noel. “We start watering at four then.”

  “Yes, by bucket though. We won’t risk the trough until tomorrow, in case any of them happen to have a cough or cold. Shall we look round our respective tents now? A rather ominous quiet prevails except from tent Number Two.”

  “O.K.,” agreed Noel, fishing her list of who lived where out of her pocket.

  Tent Four, which Noel was to share with Merry Hemlock-Jones, was nearest to the horse lines and next to it, so that its occupants could easily be rescued or controlled, was tent Three in which slept the smallest people. Jean, Penelope and Sally were busy making their beds.

  “Noel, I’ve lost my grooming kit,” began Jean. “At least I have if that wretch Gay hasn’t got it as well as hers.”

  “Look, Noel,” shrieked Penelope Barr, “I’ve made my bed; doesn’t it look super?”

  “Will the tent leak if it rains?” asked Sally.

  Noel said, “Well, ask Gay. Yes, super,” and “No, not unless you touch it,” and then she put a cross against Joy Boon’s name on her list. In the next tent Susan was making a very feeble attempt to control Margaret, Gay and Lynne, who, having thrown all their bedclothes and possessions into an inextricable heap, were having a pillow fight.

  “I knew this would be the worst tent in camp,” Susan told Noel with a giggle. “Aren’t they awful? Margaret’s trodden all over my pillow in her mucky shoes.”

  Noel said, “Gosh, I’m sorry for you. Perhaps there’s something to be said for being on the staff after all,” and he went on to look in tent Number One. Marion Hunter, Carola Birkett, Poppy Newland and Judith Quayle were reclining on their tidily made beds.

  “Hallo, Noel,” said Marion, “isn’t this super?”

  Henry inspected the boys’ tents. Number Five, which he was to occupy in solitary state, was next to the lower end of the horse lines and tent Six, which was next to it; held the younger boys. When Henry looked in they had done nothing about unpacking but were all four sitting on their heaps of luggage and talking eagerly. “We’re going to feed in five minutes,” Henry told them, “so you’d better leave your unpacking and bed­making until after tea.”

  There was much more activity in tent Seven. Donald Edge had made his bed and was lying on it reading a book. Christopher was telling David the best way to make his bed and David evidently didn’t wish for his elder brother’s advice. “It’s me who’s got to sleep in it,” he said as Henry looked in. Nicholas Lucien had just fi
nished arranging his possessions. He got to his feet and came out of the tent.

  “I must go and see how my baby brother’s getting on,” he said.

  “He isn’t,” Henry told him. “Or at least, he wasn’t when I looked in.”

  A horsebox had driven into the field through the gate by the barn and from it a small girl led a dusty black pony. Oh good, thought Henry, that’s the lot then, and he hurried across the field to meet Joy Boon. When Tommy was in his place in the horse lines, Henry blew his whistle to summon everyone. The members emerged from their tents and, some hurrying and some dawdling, they converged on the horse lines.

  “Can we water them now? Can we feed them?” the members began to demand. “No, hold it a sec.,” Henry told them. “Wait till everyone’s here. I have to say a few words to you first.” When he and Noel had counted the members to make sure that everyone was there, Henry began, “It is very important when you have ponies in lines not to make them jealous, for jealousy leads to kicking. They must all be watered at the same time, fed at the same time and petted and patted at the same time. Please do not come into the lines alone and start giving your pony sugar or you’ll find all the other ponies taking pot-shots at him. Now, tonight we are going to water by buckets. So everyone will take his bucket to the trough, fill it and water his pony. If he drinks the first bucket fetch him another. When you’ve watered him bring your haynet and fill it over here, but don’t give it to your pony. I shall wait till everyone is ready and then I shall blow my whistle. That will be the signal to feed. O.K?”

  Everyone seized his bucket and began to rush for the water trough. Henry blew his whistle and brought them all to a standstill. “Sorry,” he said, “I forgot to tell you that you shouldn’t run in or near the horse lines; the more nervous ponies don’t like it.”

  “Twenty ponies, allow roughly fourteen pounds a head, how many bales do we open?” Henry asked Noel.

  “They’re half-hundredweight bales?”

  “Yes, it’s O.K., I’ve done it—four to a bale and five fours are twenty.”

  They opened five bales, shook the hay up with pitchforks and then sat down on the main store of hay which was covered by a tarpaulin. But they didn’t sit for long; they were soon answering dozens of questions and helping the smallest people. Joy Boon’s Tommy had broken his head collar, and Henry was mending it with string, when Sally began to shriek that Star was standing on her toe and wouldn’t move. As Noel rescued her, Penelope Barr fell flat while carrying Pickles’ water bucket and emptied the lot over her jodhs and into her shoes. However, Marion presented her with Crusoe’s bucketful and went back to the trough for another. Then the haynet filling began and Henry spent all his time saying, “No, that’s not nearly enough,” to the wretched little nets that were shown to him. “We’re going to give them all plenty tonight to keep them occupied,” he explained, “after this the fat ones can have less.”

  Noel sent the soaking Penelope to change and filled Pickles’ haynet herself. When all the nets were filled Henry blew his whistle and everyone hurried forward with his net.

  “Now people who feed corn can do so,” Henry announced to the appropriate end of the line. “We go round and show them how to tie the nets,” Henry told Noel, “and the only way you can get them high enough on this scaffolding is to tie the cord to the bottom of the net itself.”

  Henry took one side of the line and Noel the other and they showed the members how to tie their nets, using a quick release knot.

  “And now,” said Henry, when all the ponies were munching happily, “we go to the barn for tea, but we have strict instructions to wash first.”

  3

  IN THE barn the trestle tables were arranged in a T shape. The camp staff sat at the top of the T and the members down the two long sides. Mrs. Quayle and Mrs. Ritson had laid the tin plates and the knives and the members were collecting orangeade, lemonade, milk or tea, according to their tastes, and then sitting down next to people they knew—if they knew anyone.

  “We’ll let them eat first,” said Major Holbrooke, “hungry people never listen.”

  “They’re very quiet,” remarked Mrs. Holbrooke. “Do you think they’ve got temperatures already?”

  “Don’t worry,” Henry told her, “the party manners will soon wear off. Why, even Noel’s feeling a little abashed.”

  “Now I’m on the staff you’ve got to treat me with respect,” Noel told him. “In fact I think in future you’d better address me as Miss Kettering. I don’t see why I shouldn’t have the advantages of my horrid position.”

  “I’ve never known anyone make such a fuss about a little responsibility,” grumbled the major.

  “Don’t worry, Uncle George, she likes it really; she’s just putting on a feminine act,” Henry told him.

  “If I wasn’t on the staff,” said Noel, “I’d put some jam down your neck.”

  “That would be a very rash act,” Henry answered. “I should like to draw attention to my superior height which would make retaliation all too easy. I should merely empty one of those enormous tins in the kitchen over you.”

  Miss Sinclair appeared. She was dressed in riding clothes and her thin grey hair was standing on end.

  “Well, well, well,” she said briskly as she sat down next to Major Holbrooke. “This all seems quite snug; yes, quite snug. But the girls’ tents, Major Holbrooke, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. I cannot describe the confusion.”

  “Ah, well, they’ve hardly got down to bedmaking yet,” said the major calmly.

  “Where’s the Assistant Adjutant?” asked Henry. “We haven’t seen her at all yet.”

  “‘Down in the yard, fussing round that chestnut horse of hers,” the major answered. “You’ll be lucky if you get her up here before nightfall.”

  “Oh, I’ve just remembered what I wanted to ask,” said Noel suddenly. “What do we do about wet clothes? Penelope Barr got mixed up with a bucket of water.”

  “That’s my province,” said Mrs. Holbrooke. “You put them in the Camp Commandant’s car and I dry them in the airing cupboard and send them back tomorrow morning.”

  “Now, look here,” the major objected, “I don’t want dripping clothes all over my car.”

  “It was your idea to have a camp,” Mrs. Holbrooke told him.

  “Well, they can bring them down in the Land Rover; it’s intended for dirty jobs,” answered the major.

  “‘If the Master of Horse is allowed within the portals of civilisation you may never get him back to camp at all,” threatened Henry.

  “Chuck them in the boot, Noel, or tell the child to,” said Mrs. Holbrooke.

  “Well, if everyone’s finished,” said the major, getting to his feet.

  He began by welcoming the members to camp. He said that he hoped they would enjoy themselves at the same time as improving their horsemanship and learning a great deal about horsemastership. Then he introduced the staff and explained their duties. He called Noel, Miss Kettering, which made her blush, and gave Susan Barington-Brown an attack of the giggles. Then he went on to explain about the sections into which the members were divided for camp duties and the camp competition which would decide the best section. Every morning, he said, before the instruction began, there would be an inspection of horse, rider and tack. Marks would be given for this as well as for the daily tent inspection. Good marks would be given to people who were exceptionally helpful and bad marks could be given to members who made a nuisance of themselves, but the major said he felt sure this would not be necessary. The sections would have various duties to perform such as line guard, washing up and water carrying, but these duties would be explained to the section leaders later. Every morning a graph on the notice board would show how each section was faring.

  “Now, about the programme for the rest of the evening. After tea everyone must get his or her bed made and kit stowed away. Mucking out tools should be taken to the horse lines and saddles and bridles brought down here. You will find your name on that r
ailing over there,” he said, pointing to a square of scaffolding that had been in the other end of the barn, “and that is where your tack lives. Supper is at seven and afterwards tack cleaning takes place.”

  This last remark brought a groan from some of the boys. Then Henry stood up and asked for the section leaders: Susan Barington-Brown, Marion Hunter, Judith Quayle, Christopher Minton and Donald Edge to come and learn their duties and Noel took a list of sections and distributed the appropriate coloured ribbons to all members.

  Major Holbrooke explained to the section leaders that the section on kitchen duties laid the table for meals and washed up afterwards, that the water carrying section kept the water jugs in the washing tents full and that the section on line guard duty took its meals to the lines and kept an eye on the ponies while everyone else was in the barn. They were also responsible for the tidiness of the horse lines during the day. “It won’t be very hard work,” he finished, “because there are five sections and only three jobs, so two sections take a holiday each day.”

  “Any questions?” asked Henry.

  “Yes,” said Christopher. “Can section leaders give bad marks?”

  “No,” answered Major Holbrooke, “certainly not. That is a matter entirely for the staff.”

  Back in the horse lines, they found that Tommy had broken his head collar again, but the other ponies were eating contentedly. Henry went off to his tent for a spare head collar and Noel decided that she had better see how the bedmaking was getting on.

  Christopher Minton had collected his section—the Blues—Jean Millwood, Carola Birkett and James Radcliffe.

  “Now look here,” he told them, “we’ve got to win this competition. We’re jolly well going to be the best section in camp.”

  “What a hope,” said Jean before the others had collected their wits.

  “And I don’t want any cheek from you,” Christopher told her.