• Solo • Boy vs. Horse (Round 2)

[Arlo Creede]

Ashan 72, 717
The trial following Round 1

Just a trial ago, Peg had left him sprawled on the trail, his hat toppled off to the wind, and had trotted all the way back to camp without him. Arlo still had the bruise on his backside and a scraped elbow to show for it. But to add insult to injury, because of his sturdy brown mare, Vega had learned what had been the cause of it all. Or at least she suspected she did, and that was more than enough. "I'm willing to forgive and forget, let bygones be bygones," he'd said while he'd put her saddle and bridle on that morning. "So long as things go differently this time."

This time, he'd left the cart back at camp and had instead led her away from civilization and back the edge of the open field where they'd been the trial before. Peg had seemed more agreeable about having her cinch tightened tightened up than she had before, and she'd taken the bit without any trouble at all. Her sudden agreeableness made him suspicious.

Yester-trial had been full of mishaps and painful lessons. But Arlo had learned from them, and had a few tricks of his own up his sleeve. He'd thought about what had gone wrong, how he could avoid it going wrong again, and had spent some time actually reading the book that he'd purchased before his first attempt at riding. And as they reached the edge of the field, he pulled a piece of twine from his pocket. A horse, the book had said, couldn't get themselves into a good bucking round, if they couldn't get their head in a downward enough position.

In order to ensure that she didn't before he got the hang of things, Arlo tied one end of the string to the crown piece of Peg's bridle, threaded it between her ears and tied the other end to the horn of the saddle. It would allow her to lower her head into a natural position, but not tuck it. "Forgiven, like I said," he reminded his mare. "But I'm not looking for another go." Maybe not forgotten after all.

He hadn't had much trouble getting into the saddle the trial before, never mind the troubles he'd had with staying there. But Arlo wasn't going to be happy with getting there if it meant having to do it on the go while she walked or trotted away. It was there that actually reading the book had done him some good. It appeared that the trick was to take the reins in such a way that Peg's head was pulled towards him as he climbed into the saddle. It required holding both reins and horn in his left hand, choked up more on the left handed rein, while using the stirrup and his right hand also gripping the horn in order to get into the saddle.

If she moved at all using that method, she'd only be able to turn in a tight circle. Arlo might have been skeptical, except that there seemed to be a great deal of sense to the method. And happily, it worked like a charm. A little awkward, it felt more like an acrobatic maneuver than a graceful climb into the saddle. But soon, he hoped, it was a method he no longer have to use. Repeated often enough, she'd simply learn to stand still while he climbed aboard. Arlo grinned, much more satisfied with the mount than he'd been the trial before. Not so much Peg, if the backwards tilt of her ears were any indication.

[Arlo Creede]

In spite of her forcing him to climb into the saddle in a roundabout way, Arlo could forgive his mare that, and consider that this was real progress. Even better for him, since he'd realized belatedly that there were two young girls on the path at the edge of the field who'd stopped to watch. A blonde and a ginger haired girl, they were probably the daughters of local farmers, aged maybe thirteen arcs or so.

Much too young for him. But just because he wasn't interested didn't mean he was eager to make a fool of himself in front of them. Or let Peg make one of him either. "Look smart, Peg," he whispered to his mare. This time she hadn't tried to lay down or roll with him, though he'd been prepared to respond if she had. All that was left was to get her moving.

Riding with the whole body. There'd been an entire section in his book devoted to it. In fact there was plenty there that Arlo had wished he'd read before their previous lesson. It would have prevented at least two times being dumped on the ground, if not all three. Horses, it appeared, were not only taught to move away from pressure. They did it instinctively. Arlo could only assume that a horse fell into the category of prey, and since predators stalked and would seem to apply pressure, then a beast that was prey would tend to flee from it.

"Makes sense, right Peg?" So, to turn left he laid the right hand rein against her neck just as the book had told him, and for added incentive, he shifted his weight in the direction he wanted to turn and pressed the opposite leg against her side. It was tricky at first but in a matter of bits, he had her turning first one way, then the other with barely a mishap along the way. "I'm starting to think you already knew all this Peg, and were playing at ignorant," he told her before finally stopping and contemplating the way forward.

So if Peg had moved away from the pressure applied with one leg, it made sense that pressure from both would get her moving in a forward direction. All the sense in the world, but then his mare flatly ignored him. And the girls at the edge of the field giggled and whispered behind their hands. Leaning forward to whisper in Peg's ear, "You're embarrassing me," Arlo received a jolt as the mare sprang into motion, which in turn caused him to tilt backwards, along with his heels in the stirrups as she skipped walking and went straight into a lively trot.

So much for easing into it and Arlo realized belatedly what he'd done, and that it wasn't Peg that had misunderstood. Instead, it appeared she was doing exactly what he'd asked her to do without realizing. Miscommunication, but it left him bouncing in the saddle as she trotted round the field, head held high, knees lifted and tail flagged. It took some doing, adjusting to that bounce so that he didn't.