Pony Club Challenge (Woodbury Pony Club Book 2) Read online

  “Rosie might do a natural one, but I should think she’ll fall straight on her nose at the sight of a sleeper-faced one,” said Rupert despondently.

  “Yes, it does look a bit stark and new,” admitted Paul. “I don’t think any of them are going to like it much.”

  “A bank? Oh, great.” James was delighted. “I’ve never jumped one. Have you, Seb?” He turned to the slim boy riding a skewbald of about 14.2 who had arrived with him.

  Seb shook his head. “No, never had the chance.”

  “Oh, by the way, this is Seb Fuller,” James introduced his friend proudly. “He’s living at Kiddleworth, up on the downs.”

  “Only for the holidays,” Seb told them, looking down at his pony’s half-white, half-chestnut mane. “My father’s rented a cottage.”

  “You are lucky,” said Alice. “Masses of lovely rides right on your doorstep.”

  “It’s all right, I suppose. But I’d much rather have stayed where we were.” Seb’s voice was full of sadness and no one knew what to say. An embarrassed silence fell.

  Netti broke it. “What’s your pony called?”

  “Jigsaw.”

  “I like his chestnut head and his star.”

  This time James broke the silence. “Has anyone done any Tetrathlon training?” he asked.

  The Wheelers looked at each other guiltily.

  “We made a resolution to run round our fields every morning, but we haven’t kept it up,” admitted Lizzie in a worried voice.

  “We’ve been swimming once, but we were too long, and my mother got fed up of sitting in Woodbury pool car park, so she’s refused to take us again,” added Rupert.

  “My stepfather is having a keep-fit craze. He’s made me go jogging with him three mornings before breakfast,” said Hanif with a shudder.

  “Poor old Harry. Still, it’ll sound terribly virtuous if David asks. What about you, Alice?”

  “I’ve run through the wood to the ford and back twice. And I persuaded my aunt to drop me at the pool while she shopped, so I’ve had one swim.”

  “I’ve had two swims,” James told them. “And I’ve run whenever I’ve had to go down the orchards with a message for my father, but I don’t think that really counts.”

  “We haven’t done much either,” Paul admitted. “Lynne keeps making excuses, and I hate running on my own.”

  “I hate running—full stop,” said Rupert. “I don’t think David’s going to be very pleased with our lack of keenness.”

  “No, he was a bit sharp with us,” agreed Lynne. “He said he’d kept his side of the bargain—buying pistols, finding the lady from the rifle club and building the bank—but we weren’t keeping ours. Mum took us swimming on Sunday to calm him down a bit.”

  “Here are the Rookes,” said Paul, mounting. “David said I was to take you to Coppice Hill as soon as everyone had come.”

  “Hang on, I think it’s only Lesley,” said Hanif, standing in his stirrups. “No, it’s O.K., the others are trailing along behind.”

  “I expect there’s been a lot of pecking and cawing in the Rookery,” said Rupert with relish.

  “Hello, Tina. What are you doing on Chess?” asked Netti.

  “Sarah’s lending him to me for the cross-country. Aren’t I lucky?” said Tina, smiling all over her thin, freckled face. “Julian didn’t want to ride.”

  “David won’t let him train for the Tetrathlon, and he was longing to shoot, so he’s furious and wouldn’t come,” Sarah told them.

  “Quite right too,” said James. “There are enough of us as it is, we don’t want a lot of D ride people holding things up.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Paul, setting off down the farm track.

  The bank had been built in the second of the valley fields, and they were all standing round it giving cries of horror when David, tooting the Land Rover horn, drove over to collect them.

  “Come on, schooling first,” he said.

  “It looks ghastly, are we going to get over it?” asked Alice.

  “Of course you are. Harry’s the only one who’s going to have any trouble,” answered David. “He has to persuade Jupiter not to jump the whole thing.” Then he saw Seb. “Hallo, you must be Sebastian Fuller. Welcome to the Woodbury.”

  “Thanks,” answered Seb, gazing down at Jigsaw’s mane.

  Alice was studying Seb from a safe distance. He was quite nice-looking, she thought. Tall and slim with brown hair and brown eyes, a normal sort of nose and a very wide mouth, but he didn’t look at all happy. He’s wishing he wasn’t here, she thought. He doesn’t like the Woodbury at all.

  David waited impatiently while his ride formed up.

  “You’d better follow me, Seb,” advised James, as he started to walk round the school.

  “You go next.” Alice held Saffron back to let Hanif go ahead of her. “I was first of us last time.” The Wheelers allowed Sarah to go ahead of them without a murmur, while, at the back of the ride, Tina and Lynne argued about who should go last.

  Except for James, the pony club members were all wondering how well Seb rode and whether Jigsaw was better schooled than the Woodbury ponies. So, as they trotted round, circling and serpentining, they were too busy trying to catch sly glimpses of the newcomer to concentrate properly, and David’s roars about wrong bends grew fiercer and fiercer.

  He’s not all that superior, thought Alice. In fact, he fits in rather well. He’s about the same standard as James, and though he was miles ahead of the rest of us at the beginning of last holidays, we’ve all been catching up. And, though Jigsaw’s well-schooled and well-behaved, his dressage isn’t exceptional—he doesn’t suddenly look elegantly poetic like Stardust does.

  When all the ponies were going well and most of the riders were using their legs to his satisfaction, David called the ride to a halt and announced that they would try shoulder-in.

  “This, as you know, is a suppling exercise,” he began, “and it’s one of those exercises which you go on using for the rest of your pony’s life. Some movements are used simply to teach the pony to obey the legs. The turn on the forehand and leg-yielding, for instance, show him that the rider’s legs can mean ‘move sideways’ or ‘take a longer stride with your hindleg’, that they don’t always mean ‘go faster’. And, once the lesson is learned, these movements can be given up. But I’m sure you’ve all seen the international showjumping riders using shoulder-in to supple their horses before they go into the ring and, done correctly, it is a very valuable exercise. O.K?”

  He looked round at the members’ faces.

  “Yes, so far,” answered Hanif cautiously.

  “Right. We’ll begin by carrying out the movement along the hedge side of the school. As you come round the corner you will increase your cornering aids so that the pony remains in the slightly bent position. But then, by feeling the outside rein, by sitting deep and using the upper leg, and by looking where you want to go, you will guide him down the school track in that bent position. Do you understand?”

  The pony club members were moving their arms and legs, trying to work out the aids and looking puzzled.

  “This is one of those moments when it would save hours of talking if I could get on a pony and show you,” said David bitterly. “But let’s have a try and see what happens. Remember, it’s not leg-yielding. You’re bending the pony as though he was circling and riding down the track in that position. Don’t ask for too much bend and, once you’ve got one, concentrate on looking where you want to go and on the pony’s inside hindleg, which will be doing all the work.”

  David began to limp towards the corner of the school. “We’ll try the best of the leg-yielders first,” he said. “James, Lizzie, Lesley, Alice and Netti. Lead on at the walk, James. Along the short side, allow a couple of lengths between you. Now, as you come round the corner hold that bend.”

  The first attempt wasn’t very successful. David was roaring at James to bend Ferdie; at Lizzie to sit up and look where she was going; at Alic
e, Lesley and Netti to sit deep and ride their ponies instead of drifting about the middle of the school.

  “All right. Circle half the school, and we’ll try again,” he said. “Lizzie, you’re not helping your pony by looking back and down. Remember that looking where you want to go is an aid; it tells him something. You’re giving mad aids to the wretched animal. Lesley, Alice and Netti, you don’t just sit there and let your ponies come into the centre of the school, you explain that you want them to go on down the track. Show them what you want with your right rein, take the hand a little sideways, lead them down the track with it. O.K., try again.”

  This time the riders had more idea of what they wanted and began to convey it to the ponies. They all stayed on the track and kept their bends for a few strides. “Good, well done. Pat him,” David was shouting. “All right, I think you’ve got it. Ride on and try once more.”

  He turned back to the watching riders. “They are all doing it a bit. Can you see it? Have you got the idea?”

  “It’s penetrating slowly,” answered Hanif.

  “Don’t ask for too much bend and don’t go on for too long,” David told them. “If your pony does a couple of steps, pat him and let him walk on.”

  The first seven riders were looking pleased with themselves and patting their ponies enthusiastically, when David called them into the centre for a rest and sent the other seven on their way.

  “You’re not going to like it, Rupert, it does killing things to your legs,” James told him as they passed.

  “Yes,” agreed Alice, dismounting gratefully. “I remember from last holidays; dressage kills your legs above the knee and cross-country kills them below.”

  Sarah was leading the second ride and as she came round the corner she turned Bowie’s head in and held him in position so firmly that he stopped dead.

  “Keep going!” shouted David, as the pony rolled his eyes and backed into the hedge. “Ride on, Sarah, don’t lose your impulsion.” But Sarah would only battle with the pony, shouting, “Bowie!” in an angry voice as the other riders piled up round her.

  “Clear the course,” said Hanif.

  “Don’t mind me,” remarked Seb in a sarcastic voice, as Bowie backed into Jigsaw.

  “Sarah, will you circle and join on behind,” roared David ferociously, at last having some effect.

  They tried again with Hanif leading. He was persuading Jupiter to bend, but the pony was jogging to avoid having to take an energetic stride with his inside hindleg. Jigsaw was bending too, but he was moving without impulsion, and Seb was roared at for looking down. Rosie’s first reaction was to open her mouth and charge off to escape from the whole problem, but Rupert stopped her, circled and tried again. Chess was merely bending his neck, Berry was trotting about the centre of the school, and Paul was tying himself in knots, drawing up his legs and leaning to one side as he tried to force Banjo into the correct position. “Halt,” called David. “Come in to the centre, all of you.”

  You’re so awful I’ll have to look at you one at a time. You start, Harry. Seb, allow about six lengths before you follow. “Sarah, you go last, but don’t get on Berry’s tail.”

  Jupiter jogged again. “Try a half-halt and then straight into shoulder-in,” suggested David. “Seb, you’ve got the bend, but no impulsion. Sit deep, get his inside leg working. Rupert, that’s not bad. Pat her. Remember it’s difficult for Rosie and don’t go on too long. Sit deep, Tina, you’re only bending his neck. Lynne, did you hear what I said about using the outside hand? Of course if you just give the aids to turn, she comes into the centre. Give the aids for shoulder-in. Take your right hand to the right. Sit up, Paul, you’re making it impossible for yourself.”

  Sarah, scowling ferociously, came last. “The most important thing is to maintain your impulsion,” David told her. “So keep going at all costs and just ask for a little bend. It’s no use losing your temper with the pony. Try to explain more clearly. It’s the rider’s fault if the pony doesn’t understand.”

  When everyone had produced some slight bend, the whole ride formed up and tried on the other rein. Most of the older members were doing quite well. Ferdinand, Rajah, Stardust, Saffron and Tristram all received shouts of “Well done.” Jupiter, Jigsaw and Rosie were all, “Much better.” Only the last four collected roars of disapproval.

  “Right,” said David when he had called them to a halt. “I think you all know what you’re supposed to be doing, but it’s obvious to me that only the riders who are sitting deep are getting results. I know it seems boringly fussy to go on and on about how you should sit, but an incorrect seat will hold you back all through your riding career and make it very difficult for you to school horses successfully. But, if you do take the trouble to get it right, everything else will begin to fall into place.” He looked at Sarah and the Robertses as he finished, but Sarah scowled and Lynne giggled in reply.

  “Now, I’ve bad news for you,” David went on, turning to the other end of the ride. “Though we’ve been explaining shoulder-in to the ponies at the walk, it is normally ridden at the sitting trot.”

  “At the trot?” James sounded disbelieving.

  “Oh David, we can’t, we’ll never do it at the trot,” objected Lizzie.

  “Where’s the SPPCM inspector?” demanded Rupert, looking round wildly. “They’re never there when you need them.”

  “It’s all a question of sitting deep,” said David. “Lead on, James. The last four can wait and then try at the walk, but the rest of you prepare to trot on. Trot on, and sitting trot as you come into the corner.”

  At the first attempt the whole ride failed and found themselves being carried across the school. But they rode on round, and the second time, sitting down grimly and struggling to use their hands independently, they all managed a few steps.

  “Change the rein,” called David, “and try again. Sit deep, ride those ponies. Half-halt, Harry,” he roared as they came to the corner. “Good Lesley. And Alice. Yes, Netti. Some of you are getting the idea.”

  When he had called the trotting ride into the centre and sent the walkers out for another try, David, who seemed to have lost interest in the walkers, said, “I want you to do a little shoulder-in every time you ride. Out hacking, anywhere. Just a few steps and then lots of praise and patting so that the ponies enjoy it.”

  “At the walk or trot?” asked James.

  “The walk for the moment, then we’ll see how the trotting goes at the next rally. Now, shorten your stirrups, please.”

  “Saffron looked quite different when you were shoulder-inning,” Hanif told Alice as they pulled up their leathers. “He suddenly became powerful and really rather handsome. I could see what David means by impulsion.”

  “It felt gorgeous for about ten seconds,” answered Alice. “I began to feel that advanced dressage might be almost as exciting as jumping, if you rode really well.”

  “It couldn’t be as exciting as cross-country,” objected Hanif.

  “Yes it could, there’s much more to dressage than just whizzing over things,” snapped Lesley.

  “Whizzing over things becomes immensely complicated if you’ve got a pony like Jupe,” argued Hanif.

  “A lot depends on your pony,” said Rupert. “Stardust likes dressage and is good at it, but Rosie-of-the­-trailing-hocks will never be good at it, according to David, and I ought to take up hurdling.”

  “Stop chattering and form up the ride,” said David.

  They cantered round with their cross-country seats until all the ponies had settled down and were going well, and then David announced that they would do the hill a couple of times.

  “I want to make sure that Jigsaw and Bowie know how to come down,” he explained. “I haven’t brought the flags, so we’ll have to put some oil drums round as markers. Could I have a volunteer to come round with me in the Land Rover, please. And, while we’re doing that, the rest of you can explain the object of the hill to Seb.”

  Lizzie and Alice found pony
holders and both went with David. Lizzie took down the slip rails into the second field, and Alice collected four drums that had been left under the hedge.

  “There’s nothing to it,” James told Seb as they jogged into the second field to inspect the bank. “You ride along the valley, turn uphill when you get to that drum they’ve just dropped, go outside the one they’re about to drop, keep going along the hillside round the next drum, straight down, and halt beside the final drum.”

  “You’re supposed to keep the same pace the whole way,” Hanif added. “That’s the problem. The first time I did it I ended up in the hedge.”

  “What pace?” asked Seb.

  “It depends on David’s mood,” Rupert told him.

  “No it doesn’t. We began at the trot and ended up at the canter, with jumps,” Hanif explained.

  “You have to sit forward and use your legs,” added Lesley.

  “Have we all got to jump the bank?” asked Tina, looking at its stout sleeper-faced sides in horror. “It looks much too solid for the little ponies.”

  “You’ll be all right,” Rupert comforted her. “Little ponies are born knowing how to jump natural fences. Harry and I are going to be the ones in trouble.”

  “It doesn’t look a very natural jump to me,” said Tina, turning slightly green.

  David sent the ponies up and down the hillside at a trot first, with Bowie following Stardust, and Jigsaw behind Netti. Sarah seemed nervous and held Bowie on a tight rein despite David’s roars. Seb, wearing a very determined expression, used his legs as directed and managed to halt only a few feet past the drum.

  “It was steeper than I expected,” he said as he joined the other riders in the valley. “It gives you a bit of a shock.”

  “You get used to it,” Hanif told him. “On the last day of the course last holidays we were all cantering down from the very top.”

  “Round twice at the canter,” said David. “But be sensible. Stop if anything goes wrong.”

  The ponies and riders enjoyed flying round the hillside; the pony club members began to feel much braver now that their blood was up.