Pony Club Team Read online

  “To tell you the truth,” said Mrs. Holbrooke, putting down the Sunday Times, “I don’t know very much about him. But he’s a year younger than you so you ought to be able to shut him up and by the time your uncle has finished teaching you dressage you’ll all be so exhausted that you won’t want to talk.”

  “Oh, Aunt, you do sound grim,” said Henry. “Is Uncle George becoming one of those people who disapprove of the younger generation? You know, ‘gone to the dogs, what?’ and all the rest of it. I bet he is. I felt sure he had an ulterior motive in running a dressage course; he’s trying to do us good — to toughen us up. If there’s anything I dislike it’s things that are good for me and if there’s one thing I’ll never be, it’s tough.”

  “Henry, you talk too much,” said his aunt with a smile. “And don’t worry about your uncle’s opinion of your character; he won’t mind what you do if you ride well.”

  3

  Confusion had reigned in the stable yard at Folly Court since nine o’clock. Blake, the Major’s stud groom, had been trying to restore order, but now he had been captured by Mrs. Cresswell, who was telling him Golden Glory’s pedigree complete with a detailed account of what prizes and races her many half-brothers and sisters had won. Whenever Blake tried to say anything she interrupted him with shrill cries to June to move Glory away from the other horses’ heels. Fred and Victor — the under grooms — were each holding several ponies, which had been deserted by their owners; half the Pony Club members were asking each other where they were supposed to put their halters and grooming tools and the other half were arguing with their parents as to whether they really needed their hard hats, mackintoshes and martingales.

  “I bet nobody else is wearing theirs,” said Hilary, looking mulish. “I look like an advertisement in mine,” objected Roger.

  “Well, I don’t want children with cracked skulls and you know that you always fall on your heads; now promise to wear them or I shall be a doting parent like Mrs. Cresswell and ask the Major to see that you do.”

  “We’ll wear them,” agreed the Radcliffes hastily.

  “No, not the martingale, Daddy,” said Susan. “I can’t help what Mrs. Cresswell says about jumping Wonder in one, I know the Major disapproves of them.”

  Henry Thornton had been told to show the Pony Club members the temporary saddle room, where they were to keep their tack and grooming tools, but he had forgotten where it was and he was wandering about looking for it. Major and Mrs. Holbrooke were making polite conversation to the parents of the members who were staying at the Court; to Mrs. Minton and Colonel Manners and Mr. Barington-Brown, who had brought Noel’s luggage.

  At last everything was sorted out; the parents drove home, the grooms went back to their work. Mrs. Holbrooke walked down to the aviary to visit her famous collection of rare birds and the Pony Club members filed into the paddock. They were rather disappointed when they saw the usual school marked out with four white posts; they had all been expecting something special and June had hoped for a proper dressage arena marked out alphabetically; she felt certain that she knew more about dressage than any of the other members and she had pictured herself half passing from ‘B’ to ‘F’ while they all tied themselves in knots.

  “Now, this morning,” said Major Holbrooke, when everyone was in the school, “we are going to revise what you have already learned and make sure that you are all sitting correctly, for without a correct seat all the teaching of the next few days will be wasted. Roger,” he went on, “will you lead round the school, please?”

  June was annoyed; she felt that she should have been asked to lead, but she took second place and made Golden Glory walk as fast as she could, hoping to overtake Roger and Sky Pilot. Merry pouted; she, too, had wanted to lead; now, she thought, Quaver would jog and pull. “Walk, Quaver,” she said sharply as she followed June. Henry Thornton, long-legged and lank, was riding his uncle’s Black Magic, a good looking thoroughbred, coal black except for a small neat star on her forehead. Noel, thinking thank goodness I wasn’t asked to lead, followed Dick and Crispin, and behind her rode Hilary and Susan. Christopher, feeling a little bashful because everyone seemed to know so much more than he did, was last but one, and John, still feeling hot and bothered from the whirl of preparation, brought up the rear. Well, I’m here; he thought, no more hurry for a fortnight, and he settled down to enjoy Turpin’s stride and the lovely day. Everything would have been perfect, he thought, if only his reins weren’t quite so stiff.

  “Prepare to trot, trot on,” said Major Holbrooke. Sky Pilot, another black but with a crooked blaze and three white socks, was a sensible type of horse and he trotted on steadily, but Glory swished her tail, lay back her eyes and then reluctantly obeyed a sharp kick from June’s outside heel — the one the Major couldn’t see. Quaver, tired of Merry’s nagging hands, threw his head about and pulled, Black Magic, who was very fit and had spent Sunday in the stable, gave a couple of light-hearted bucks and, at the back of the line, Christopher was having his arms pulled out by Fireworks. The Major gave the order to canter. Black Magic bucked again, but Henry, who had been riding for ten years, wasn’t unseated; he merely pulled up her head and drove her forward with his legs. Glory was cantering too slowly for the other horses and ponies so, led by Henry, they passed her and cantered on after Roger and Merry, except for Fireworks. He increased his pace until he was galloping flat out round the field with Christopher tugging frantically at the reins and the Major shouting at him to sit down in his saddle. The other members pulled up to watch and, after galloping round the field three or four times, Fireworks began to tire; at last he consented to pull up. “Whew, you are an old devil,” said Christopher, trotting back to the school.

  “That pony’s a menace,” said the Major, “does he often behave like that?”

  “Well, yes, sometimes,” answered Christopher, “but he’s worse today because I gave him a good feed of oats last night.”

  “Someone seems to have hotted him up very thoroughly,” said the Major. “He’s quite a young pony, isn’t he?”

  “Six,” answered Christopher.

  “I should imagine that his breaker took him out hunting, entered him for gymkhanas or tried to teach him to jump too early,” said the Major. “That’s how most horses and ponies are spoiled; simply because their trainers are in too much of a hurry. Still, he’s a nice-looking pony and I should think he can jump. We must see what we can do with him. First of all we must correct your riding,” Major Holbrooke went on. “I expect that when you were galloping round the field just now you thought that you were doing your utmost to stop him, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yes, I did, Sir,” answered Christopher. “I don’t see how I could have pulled any harder.”

  “Actually,” said the Major, “you weren’t pulling very hard at all, because first you pulled yourself out of the saddle and then you rested your hands on your pony’s withers to regain your balance before having another tug at the reins. Well, now that may seem a clear aid to you, but it doesn’t seem so to the pony, he thinks of it like this; you pull to tell him that you wish to stop, he pulls at you and goes on galloping whereupon you relax the reins — because you have pulled yourself out of the saddle — and, it appears to him, that you say ‘ oh never mind.’

  “Now a rider who says ‘stop’ and then when his horse refuses to obey ‘oh never mind,’ is not going to encourage good manners any more than a parent, who tells you not to talk with your mouth full and then, when you persist in doing so, shrugs his shoulders and says, ‘oh never mind,’ is going to make a well-mannered child. The first thing you have to do, if you wish to improve your pony, is to strengthen your seat and then you will be able to go on saying, ‘stop,’ until your pony obeys. And remember that a correct seat is a strong seat and that the leg position is the key to the seat, Now walk round the school everyone, I’m going to have a look at those seats.” Everyone sat up very straight and began to try to arrange himself into what he hoped was the cor
rect position, but in spite of this the Major found plenty of faults to correct.

  The Radcliffes and John Manners all had their legs a little too far forward; Merry was sitting in the back of her saddle with her legs much too far forward and her toes down. The Major told her that she was behind her horse’s centre of gravity and quite unable to use her legs; but, as soon as he turned to look at Henry, Merry pouted and returned to her usual position. Henry’s fault was that his leg position was too fluid; “We want stiff legs and supple bodies,” his uncle told him. “Sit a little farther forward in your saddle, now draw your lower leg back and at the same time push down your knees and heels hard. Now, there we have the correct leg position,” said Major Holbrooke to the other members, “a pointed knee, the heel down and the toe just behind a vertical line from the knee to the ground. If you really concentrate on getting the leg position, it will become second nature to you in a very few days, but if you wait hopefully for a miracle or for me to nag you into position, you’ll be indifferent riders for the rest of your lives. You’re lucky, Henry,” he added, “you’ve got nice long legs.”

  “Thank you for the compliment, Uncle,” replied Henry gravely.

  “Now, come on, June,” the Major went on in tones of exasperation; “surely I’ve told you the correct seat often enough. The way you sit may be all right for the show ring, but it’s useless for dressage; you can’t use your hands if they’re in your stomach, you can’t use your legs if they’re too far forward and you can’t use your seat bones if you’re sitting on your buttocks. Sit up, sit farther forward, shorten your reins and put your legs back.” June looked even more sullen than before and John, who disliked her intensely, thought, that’ll teach you to be so jolly pleased with yourself. Susan and Dick had no glaring faults, but Noel was told to look up, not at the ground, and Christopher, though his leg position was quite good, sat too far forward and held his reins too short.

  Having corrected everyone the Major looked up the line again. The Radcliffes were telling John about Richard Morrison’s birthday party; Noel was looking at the ground; Merry and June were back in their old positions; it was disheartening, thought Major Holbrooke, but he would see if he could wake them up a bit. He gave the order to trot on, with the riders sitting down instead of rising and to change the rein, and, when they were trotting round the school in the opposite direction, he told them to prepare, and then, to halt. Some of the members, those who had been taught by the Major before, knew that they should use their legs when they halted, but others like Merry and Henry just pulled on the reins and, of course, their horses, being on their forehands, took longer to stop than the other members, with the result that they found themselves on top of Sky Pilot. The Major explained the importance of using the legs when halting and he also told Christopher that he must open his fingers and relax his hands a moment before Fireworks actually obeyed his aid to stop. “If you want your pony to obey you quickly,” the Major explained, you must release him from the discomfort of your aid quickly. If you want to be a good horseman apply your aids as lightly as you can, for the shortest possible time. Never hang on to your horse’s head after he has halted.”

  The members practised halting from the walk and trot for some time and when everyone was able to do this reasonably well, the Major told them to cross their stirrups in front of their saddles. When John and Christopher heard this, they made rueful faces, for their ponies had very uncomfortable trots, but they suffered less than Henry and Merry, who weren’t used to riding without stirrups and who soon began to groan and gasp. When they were told to walk and change the rein again, they sighed with relief, but not for long; they were told to trot on holding their reins in their outside hands and, when the Major gave the order, they had to touch their inside toes with their inside hands without altering their positions in the saddle. Merry, Henry and June felt that this was rather beneath their dignity but everyone else seemed to enjoy it and Susan and Christopher were laughing so much that they were in danger of falling off. When everyone was exhausted by doing this exercise, the order to walk and take back the stirrups was given. Then they practised back-reining.

  Fireworks was hopeless; he stuck his head in the air, put all his weight on his haunches and then said that he couldn’t possibly go backwards. But, by making him face a fence, he was persuaded to back two grudging little steps, for which he was rewarded by a great many pats from both the Major and Christopher. Noel couldn’t make Sonnet back straight, which, she was told, was disgraceful, considering that she had been schooling her for the last nine months. Henry and Merry had no idea that you were supposed to use your legs and June got a long lecture because she knew that you should use them but, according to the Major, she was too lazy to put them in the proper place to do so.

  After halting and back-reining several times from both the walk and trot they practised turns on the forehand and then the Major said that there was just time for a few jumps before lunch. Everyone, except Merry, was delighted. “Hurray,” said John.

  “Oh goody,” exclaimed Susan.

  “About time too,” grumbled Roger Radcliffe.

  “Don’t you think that the ground is rather hard?” Merry asked June in a troubled voice. “I must speak to Major Holbrooke; I don’t want Quaver’s legs ruined.” She rode across to where the Major was beginning to move jumps from the pile by the gate. Dick, Roger and John gave their horses to the other members to hold and ran to help him. “Oh Major Holbrooke,” began Merry as soon as he had finished telling the boys where he wanted the four jumps, “don’t you think the ground’s rather hard? I don’t usually jump Quaver at all in the summer, you see he wins quite a lot in hunter classes and I’m anxious not to spoil his legs. I mean the slightest thing wrong with their legs puts them right out of the ‘money,’ doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t think you need worry,” answered the Major patiently, “the going’s very good at the moment and we’re not going to jump at all high.”

  “I see; well, I suppose it’s all right then, but it would be so tragic if he went lame.” The Major remained silent, so Merry turned and rode back to where the others were standing.

  “What did he say?” asked June.

  “He seems to think it’ll be all right,” answered Merry.

  “The trouble about the Major,” said June, “is that he doesn’t know how valuable horses ought to be treated. No one but a fool would lend Black Magic to that silly Henry; why she’s won three light-weight hunter classes already this year. And look how he hunts them — tearing through woods and along roads as though they were a lot of common old screws instead of show horses. I think he’s a fool; well, he must be, mustn’t he? No one in their senses would treat valuable horses like that.”

  “Of course I hunt Quaver, but he’s quite unstoppable and completely tireless, but I never show jump him and I always insist that White puts exercise bandages on if the going’s hard. I must put them on you to-morrow, Quaver, I don’t want your legs filled, do I?”

  “I shall tell Wilson to put Glory’s on too,” said June, “I don’t want her blemished.”

  “Now,” said Major Holbrooke, when the jumps were ready, “four very small fences, but don’t be misled, they’re not quite as easy as they look. They’re purposely arranged out of line, so that you’ll have to use your legs and reins to keep your horses balanced and to straighten them out between each fence. Roger, you first, please.”

  Roger jumped the first two, but he let Sky Pilot run out of the third fence.

  “He used his legs,” said Major Holbrooke, “but, as I expect you all noticed, he didn’t keep contact with his horse’s mouth. Shorten your reins, Roger, and remember that, because they are shorter, you will have to slide your hands farther up your horse’s neck to give him the necessary freedom over each jump. Try again.” Roger managed to clear all four fences at his second attempt and Henry, who followed him, cleared them at his first, but the Major said that it was because he had an obliging horse and that Henry’s ri
ding had been horrible to behold; he was to keep his heels down, his legs back and his knees in; otherwise, if his horse pecked, he would certainly go over his head. Hilary cleared all the jumps on the stout blue roan, Northwind, who was a sticky jumper. The Major said that she had used her legs very well, but that if Northwind had been a hot pony, she would have found her reins too long to keep him straight.

  Merry jumped the first jump with the backward seat and allowed Quaver to run out of the second; whereupon the Major pointed out that if she had been sitting in the middle of the saddle with her legs back, as he had told her, she might have some chance of jumping correctly and keeping her horse straight; but so long as she persisted in riding with her present impracticable seat, she could neither put her weight in her stirrups nor use her legs. Merry tried again; she jumped the first fence in better style, but she still let Quaver run out at the second. “You didn’t use your legs at all,” the Major told her, “it is no use sitting there and hoping for the best; directly you land over one fence, use your legs and ride your horse at the next.” The next try was more successful: Merry used her legs and Quaver jumped the second fence, but she rolled off over his shoulder. The Major asked Merry if she was all right and, getting slowly to her feet, she replied rather crossly that she supposed so, but she grumbled to Noel and Susan, who were still waiting their turn, that her back hurt and that the Major was an utter fool to expect a horse that wasn’t a show jumper to jump fences which weren’t in a straight line.

  Meanwhile Dick jumped the fences very well, except that he looked down all the way, and John cleared them, but in what the Major described a “rough and ready style”; “you lost contact with his mouth so you had to haul him round to jump the third bar; did you feel it?” asked Major Holbrooke. John agreed that he had. It was June’s turn next and riding as usual with her reins too long and her legs too far forward, she found herself in difficulties with Golden Glory, who napped towards the other horses, running backwards and swinging round whenever June tried to ride her at the jumps. The Major shouted instructions. June was to shorten her reins, to use her legs and stick. After some delay Glory approached the first fence, but it was a long time before she could be persuaded to jump all four fences and both the Major and June were hot and cross.