Pony Club Cup (Woodbury Pony Club Book 1)

by Josephine Pullein-Thompson

  David was already in the yard, leaning against the Land Rover. He had spread a large sheet of paper on the bonnet and seemed to be going through details of a plan with Mr Roberts.

  “What about the anti-tet?” he asked Alice.

  “It was O.K.. I rang Mr Crankshaw and he’d been done.”

  “Good. Bring him over here and let me have a look at the wound. Oh yes, that’s healing nicely. Now do keep away from Berry, all of you, she’s in a very mare-ish mood. If everybody’s here, you can go on, I’ll follow in a minute two.”

  “He really is planning a cross-country course, isn’t he?” James asked Paul as they set off along the farm track.

  “Yes, we’re to help Dad with the jumps after lunch,” answered Paul, “but I don’t think they’re going to be much—mostly baling string and poles, though they have looked out a plastic sheet for the water.”

  “Water? To jump?” asked Hanif in horrified tones.

  “Yes, and a ditch.”

  “Chess can’t bear black plastic,” moaned Sarah. “He’s got a phobia. When we went as a junior team to the Cranford Vale hunter trials he refused three times. Afterwards Mum got all sorts of people to try to get him over, but they couldn’t; he just won’t go near it. It’s a phobia, everyone said so.”

  “David will know what to do.” Alice tried to comfort them. “After all, we couldn’t ride downhill until he told us how.”

  “I’m not at all sure I can do it today,” observed Hanif gloomily. “Yesterday might have been a fluke, or just that Jupe was too worn out to keep up the argument.”

  The Wheelers and Tina came trotting along the lane from Kidlake at the same moment as the Land Rover appeared, and James and Paul dismounted to take down the slip rails.

  “Will you put them up again when I’m through?” asked David. “Drop the top rail at the right-hand end. I want you all to jump in over them. Don’t make a great fuss about it, just pop over. James first, large and lively ponies in the front, and Lynne, keep Berry well away from everyone. All right?”

  He drove through and waited. The riders milled about in the lane, arguing.

  “Give me some room, I want a run,” demanded James.

  Oliver, who had appeared on a bicycle, flung it in the hedge and asked what was going on.

  Ferdie popped over neatly, Jupiter shot after him, hurled himself over and set off at a gallop across the field, but finding that Ferdie was standing calmly by the Land Rover and that Hanif had turned him uphill, he slowed down. Saffron charged over, head in the air. Rosie refused dead, her nose almost touching the ground on the far side.

  “Go back and take another lead,” shouted David, clearing the way for Rajah who came over in slow motion. Stardust trotted up and refused. Tristram passed her and flew over. Banjo took it neatly and was followed by Chess, Hobbit and Berry. Rosie refused again and so did Stardust, with a disappointed Lesley kicking frantically.

  “Hold it,” David shouted to them. “Alice and Harry, you jump back into the lane and give them a lead. Lesley,” he went on, grabbing the loudhailer, “don’t kick. Use your whip to get the pony going before you start jumping, then sit still and use your legs properly—invisibly. Nothing could jump with you throwing yourself about like that.”

  Oliver, who had used the lull in the jumping to come through, approached David. “I’m supposed to be helping you,” he said.

  “Great, I need it. As soon as those two ponies have jumped back will you see if you can find a pole or branch to act as a ground line. Put it about two feet in front of the slip rail. Rosie wants some help in finding her take-off.”

  Hanif was looking at the slip rails doubtfully. There was a grass verge to land on and then the lane. It was all slightly downhill. “Go on, don’t make a great thing about it. Just pop over,” David shouted to him.

  Jupiter made an unnecessarily large jump, but, as there was nowhere to gallop to, he stopped of his own accord. Alice trotted and popped without any stargazing this time. They decided that Hanif should give Rupert a lead and Alice, Lesley. The two girls went back a long way down the lane to give Lesley a chance to get Stardust going.

  “Wait, wait! you’ve got to have a ground line,” Oliver was shouting at his brother. With loud crackings and splinterings he pulled a rotten branch off a tree and dragged it along the lane.

  “Will this do?” he shouted at David.

  “Yes, fine. A good two feet in front.”

  Hanif turned Jupiter at the fence and bounded over, but Rosie did another of her head-down refusals.

  “Follow the girls,” shouted David, as Alice and Lesley came cantering up the lane and both flew over easily. Rosie refused again.

  “Right, on to the school, all of you. She won’t like it when she finds she’s on her own,” said David. “Come on Oliver, leave her.”

  Rosie neighed indignantly as they all jogged on across the field, and then, deciding that she would have to jump, she heaved herself over from a standstill and galloped after the other ponies, giving a series of unseating-looking bucks. Rupert arrived at the school laughing.

  “I don’t know how you stayed on,” said Alice. “It looked horrible.”

  “He’s got such long legs he never falls off,” Oliver told her.

  “He’s like the sugar tongs in the poem,” added Netti. “‘His legs are so long and so aptly constructed’: it’s a great help.”

  “Form up the ride, the same order as yesterday,” said David. “And we want everyone riding with long stirrups, please. Do remember that you now have two distinct seats—and keep them distinct. Whatever you do, don’t ride short unless you’re sitting forward. Sitting at the back of the saddle with short stirrups is always a disaster. You can’t influence the pony’s hindlegs and your weight is too far back, you’re behind the pony’s movement.

  “Lynne, you’d better go last—we don’t want Tina’s pony kicked. Now, an energetic walk. Make sure they’re over­tracking.”

  They walked and trotted and circled. They made circles larger and smaller. Except for Rosie, they leg-yielded then they serpentined with encouraging shouts from David, who said that they were all getting the idea at last. There were groans when everyone but Lynne had to cross their stirrups, and they practised halting from the trot. Rosie and Saffron were allowed to make very slow transitions through the walks but the others were expected to manage with only two or three steps of walking.

  “Sit up. Take your weight back a little. Sit deep. Use your legs,” roared David. “Go on riding forward until you’ve actually halted. We want their hindlegs under them, not trailing behind. They must stand at attention, not straggle all over the place.”

  Everyone was relieved when they were told to have a rest and shorten their stirrups for cantering.

  “Do you think legs ever get used to it?” asked Rupert, flexing his ruefully when the cantering was over.

  “At least with two seats you spread the aches,” observed Alice. “Knees upwards for schooling and knees downwards for cross-country.”

  “Are you all right, Tina?” asked Lizzie. “It’s a bit hard on you. We’ve worked up to this stage gradually.”

  “I’m fine. I do a lot of bareback riding, taking the ponies back to their fields, and Hobbit’s lovely and easy to ride.”

  “Right, now I’m going on into the next field and Oliver’s going to put the slip rails up again for you to jump in,” said David. “Don’t ride on each other’s tails. Don’t get excited and do sit still. I’d rather see the odd stop, the occasional refusal, than people riding like maniacs at tiny jumps. Ponies don’t need to be ‘got over’, they’re quite capable of jumping small fences. Your job is to organize the correct pace, have the pony balanced and on the bit and, if you’ve walked the course and know what sort of fence lies ahead, indicate that knowledge to him. But if you’re waving your arms and legs about, you can’t indicate anything, and the pony can’t concentrate on jumping if you’re giving thumping great kicks in the ribs. So don’t be a hind
rance. Sit still and help.”

  Oliver was very efficient with the slip rails and even found an old broken rail to act as a ground line for Rosie. As soon as he shouted that it was ready, James set off at a steady canter and flew over the high end. Hanif and Alice jumped in the middle, Rupert rode at the low end and everyone cheered when Rosie jumped. The ponies seem to be inspiring each other. Tristram and Stardust took it and sailed over and all the little ponies followed in fine style.

  “Now we’re going to do the hill the easy way, at the trot, twice,” said David. “Off you go James. And as soon as one pony is half way up the hill the next one can start.”

  For most people the downhill had suddenly become easy; only Hanif, Alice, Rupert and Lynne still had to work hard to keep their ponies under control. Tina went down very cautiously the first time, but at her second attempt she managed to keep trotting and David sent her round a third time on her own.

  Then they went round the other way. Alice and Hanif hadn’t tried the steep hill before, but as everyone else could do it they were filled with a grim determination not to be beaten, and since their ponies, who were enjoying themselves, had become far more cooperative, they managed it quite easily.

  “Good. Well done, everyone, especially Tina,” said David when they had all been round twice. “Now I want you to go the easy way at the canter. You all know what to do. Ride forward. Legs. Look where you’re going and halt at the flag.”

  “Doesn’t James look brilliant,” said Netti as horse and rider crossed the hillside. “He looks like a competitor at Badminton.”

  “Very competent,” agreed Rupert. “Harry doesn’t look too bad either.”

  “They all look better at the canter,” agreed Tina as Alice reached the second flag.

  “I am about to spoil the pretty picture,” said Rupert, turning Rosie and setting off in pursuit of Rajah.

  The ponies were used to the hillside and the feeling of open spaces and they knew the routine so they were content to canter in order. They didn’t attempt to overtake or race, and one by one the riders came back smiling and patting their mounts.

  David had arranged for James and Alice to go with him in the Land Rover, and the moment Lynne and Berry returned he announced that the riders should dismount to give the ponies’ backs a rest while he organized the jumps. He drove up the hill slantwise and stopped at mid-point between each pair of flags to deposit drums and poles. Soon there were three jumps, low ones with drums on their sides on the two hills and a larger one midway along the top. Rupert was relieved to see that they all had ground lines and everyone, even the boldest among them, was pleased to see that the downhill jump was so small.

  “Right,” said David, when everyone had remounted and Oliver, who was being very attentive, had handed him the loudhailer. “Now we’re going to include the jumps this time and, once again, don’t fuss. Start at the canter, get your weight well forward for the uphill jump, canter along the top and don’t forget to use the half-halt to draw your pony’s attention to the fact that there is now a jump there. He doesn’t know. When you come to the third flag, slow up to a trot, then ride the pony forward over the jump. I don’t mind whether you trot or canter the last bit, provided you halt at the flat. Any questions?”

  “Must we trot at the third flag?” asked James.

  “It depends on how effective your half-halts are,” answered David. “The important thing is that your pony must be balanced and under control so that you can be pushing him forward as you come to the fence. If you’re hanging on to his head and trying to slow him up he can’t jump. Most of the ponies here would need to trot a couple of strides and then push on.”

  “If we give them their heads over the jump they can race off the moment they land,” objected Lesley. “I don’t see how we’re supposed to keep control.”

  “You don’t ‘give them their heads’, or at least you shouldn’t once you’ve passed the beginner stage of jumping. You’ve all got firm seats, you can jump, now you’re expected to learn how to jump well and how to be active riders and help your ponies. I’ve explained about approaching with impulsion, sitting still, using your legs quietly so that you don’t disturb him. Now your hands should ‘follow him’. That is, you keep a light contact with the pony’s mouth and as he extends his neck over the fence you keep that contact but give him the freedom he needs by extending your arms, slowly, and with quiet movement of the elbows. Then, as he lands, your elbows slide back and you still have contact. But of course it isn’t the reins which keep him balanced, it’s your legs and seat which will do the hard work. All right, James, off you go.”

  James made it look easy, and Hanif, who had set off with a very anxious expression, managed to persuade Jupiter to trot to within three strides of the jump. Then he cantered, but remained more or less in control and managed to halt a couple of yards from the flag. Alice brought Saffron to a walk at the third flag and then pushed him forward as they approached the jump. Rosie refused the uphill fence; she seemed to think it was an impossible feat to jump at the same time as climbing a hill. David shouted to Rupert, telling him to by-pass the jump and go on. They took the middle fence quite happily, but at the sight of the downhill one, Rosie’s eyes bulged with horror and she stopped again. Rupert forced her on and she crept over, one leg at a time, knocking down the pole.

  Oliver, complaining loudly, ran up the hill to restore the pole just in time for Lizzie, who took it cautiously and got a roar from David for looking down. Lesley had produced enough impulsion for the uphill and kept going well along the top, but when she saw the jump down she was overcome by nerves and took it from a walk. Netti went round very well. She and Tristram seemed to be full of confidence, but the other small ponies all lacked impulsion, heaving themselves over the uphill jump with difficulty and creeping downhill too carefully.

  “You must get them going with more energy and impulsion,” David told their riders. “Ponies don’t enjoy things that are an effort to them and, by going slowly, you’re making the uphill jump an effort. We want a bit more dash from you. Let’s put every slow pony behind a fast one and see if we can’t inspire them a bit.”

  When the riders tried to sort themselves out they found that there were only four fast ponies, so Lesley and Paul attached themselves to James, Lizzie and Lynne to Alice, Tina and Sarah to Netti. Rupert followed Hanif and everyone refused to follow Rupert in case he knocked down the jump again. But Rosie was inspired by Jupiter’s example and she followed him boldly over all three jumps.

  “Well done all of you,” said David when the last of the smiling riders and blowing ponies had returned. “You’ve obviously got the hang of it now.”

  “Even dozy Rosie,” said Oliver, patting her. “Silly old pop eyes.”

  “Now you can jump both slip rails. But be sensible, steady down in between them and keep off each other’s tails. Wait for me in the lane.”

  Delighted at the thought of more jumps, they set off in a long string, the slower ponies still following their leaders. This time most people were jumping the middle of the rails between the fields. Only Rupert and Tina took the lowest point, while Hanif, Alice and Paul followed James over the high end. But into the lane they were more cautious and jumped the middle.

  “Mr Roberts wants all the help you can give him with course-building this afternoon,” said David, when he caught up with them. “And tomorrow’s the pony club rally but I thought we’d carry on out here on the cross-country. Janet Green is going to take the younger ones in the paddock and Julia’s going to give me a hand getting you over the water. All right? Can I rely on you to help Mr Roberts?”

  “Yes,” they answered. “We’ve brought our lunches.”

  “We’ll take the ponies home and then come back here,” said Lizzie.

  “What time?” asked Netti.

  “About an hour,” said Paul. “Or an hour and a bit.”

  Shouting ‘thank you’ to David, the Wheelers and Tina clattered off down the lane. Oliver grabbed
his bicycle, and shouting, “See you later!” followed.

  The others ate lunch peacefully, exhausted by the morning’s efforts. They were beginning to revive when Mr Roberts appeared in the yard carrying a bag of tools, followed by Lynne and Paul laden with garden forks and spades.

  “Black plastic sheet,” said Mr Roberts, consulting his list. “Put that lot in the Land Rover, Paul, and fetch the sheet out of the barn. It’s the one under the chaff-cutter. The rest of you come and help me with the stuff from the tractor shed. We’re going to need at least a dozen fencing stakes.”

  They loaded the stakes, an enormous mallet, an iron bar with a sharp point for making holes, several buckets and a reel of binder twine into the Land Rover and then drove into Long Meadow to collect more poles. Then, with Sarah, Lynne and Lesley sitting in the front and everyone else crouched perilously on top of the poles, they bumped slowly along the track to Coppice Hill.

  Through the slip rails they turned left and stopped beside a water trough which stood close to the hedge.

  “Three poles, the plastic sheet and the buckets come off here,” said Mr Roberts. “Just leave them in a pile beside the trough. We’ll come back and sort it out later.”

  He stopped again halfway up the hill, at a little group of trees. One large, ancient elm had fallen at some time and its trunk lay sprawled across the hillside. They all got out to inspect it.

  “Who can saw?” asked Mr Roberts, producing two saws from his tool bag. “David wants the middle trimmed up a bit. These branches taken off close to the trunk and no pointed or jagged bits left that could harm the ponies. He wants the boughs on the ends left alone, says they make it ‘more inviting’.”

  “It doesn’t look very inviting to me,” complained Hanif.

  “No, it’s so solid, and uphill,” Lesley agreed.

  “Well, we can’t knock it down, that’s one thing,” said Paul.