Draw Swords! Part 8

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"Yes, a little," said d.i.c.k.

"Then you won't be nervous, sir; and the ground bark is quite soft to fall on."

"Yes," said Wyatt; "and if you do come off you needn't mind, for you'll have no stirrups, and the horse will stop short."

At the words "no stirrups" d.i.c.k winced a little, but he set his teeth a bit harder.

The horse bore a regular high-peaked and pommelled saddle of the military type, and the sergeant took the reins while the syce went, as the lad supposed, to take off or cross the stirrups over the horse's back; but, rather to d.i.c.k's dismay, he rapidly unbuckled the girths and drew the saddle off, carrying it to a great peg near the door, and then hurrying back to take the reins from the sergeant's hand.



"Ready, sir?" said the latter.

d.i.c.k nodded.

"Then I'll give you a leg up. Take the reins. No, no; that's not our way, sir. Only pa.s.s your little finger between them this fas.h.i.+on, and let them both run through your hand, pa.s.sing them together between your thumb and first finger. See; this way. Gives you a firmer pull in reining up short."

d.i.c.k nodded, after watching the sergeant, who then dropped the reins on the horse's neck.

"Now then, take up your reins."

d.i.c.k obeyed, holding them exactly as the sergeant had done the moment before.

"Wrong!" shouted his master. "Try again."

d.i.c.k dropped the rein, and turned an inquiring look at his tutor.

"You took up the wrong rein, sir. Civilians ride on the snaffle; soldiers ride on the curb."

d.i.c.k nodded, and took up the curb-rein this time.

"Good. Now give me your left leg, and when I say 'Mount,' put a little spring into it as I give you a lift, raise your right leg high as you throw it over to clear your saddle and traps, and open your crutch wide as you let yourself drop on to the horse's back. Of course there is no saddle, but you must mount as if there was. Ready!--Mount."

The sergeant raised the lad's leg, and seemed to be trying to throw him over to the other side of the horse, which kept on tossing its head about, but stood like a statue.

In an instant d.i.c.k was in his place.

"Off again!" cried the sergeant; and the lad threw himself off quickly.

"Now, your leg. See if you can do that again."

The orders were given, and the lad dropped once more easily into his place, Wyatt giving a satisfied smile, and the sergeant nodding.

"Attention!" he cried. "Now take up the snaffle-rein to hold loosely in your hand. That's right. Get well down in your seat; sit perfectly upright, elbows more in, grip with your knees, and keep your toes pointed forward and your heels well down. Mind, you have to ride on the balance. That's right. You will advance now at a walk."

As he uttered the last word the syce darted back, and the horse went off at a quick walk down the side of the riding-school, along the end, right down the other side and bottom, and back to where the three were standing.

"Not bad, sir," said the sergeant. "Feel pretty safe?" d.i.c.k nodded.

"Keep those elbows in and your toes well up. Straighter, straighter.

That's right. Once more--forward at a walk."

The horse started again, and as soon as the rider was out of hearing Wyatt spoke.

"Promises well, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir; not the first time he has been on a horse.--Trot!" he shouted, and the horse broke into a long, swinging stride, throwing his rider up so high that d.i.c.k felt how well his mount merited the term rough; but the lad kept his place pretty well, and as they reached the sergeant again a sharp "Halt!" rang out, the horse stopped short, and d.i.c.k went right forward upon the neck.

"I said 'Halt!'" cried the sergeant grimly. "Get back in your place, sir, and keep there. We ride on a horse's back, an elephant's neck, and the ears keep you from going any forwarder."

"The old joke, Stubbs," said Wyatt softly.

"Yes, sir; I have used it a good many times with recruits," said the sergeant grimly. Then to his pupil, "Now, sir, keep in your place this time."

"Yes. That was bad," said d.i.c.k.

"Silence! Advance at a walk."

The horse moved off again.

"Trot!"

Away he went, snorting and tossing his head, throwing his rider up at every stride of his long-legs right round the school, and d.i.c.k nipped the animal's sides with his knees, doing his best to keep his seat when the word "Halt!" should ring out; but, to his surprise, the horse went on past the group and pa.s.sed again for another round.

Then came the order; the horse stopped short.

"Sit easy!" shouted the sergeant. "Make much of your horse. Sit easy!"

he cried again, for d.i.c.k had not moved. "Pat your horse, sir; pat your horse."

d.i.c.k obeyed now, and the sergeant went on giving him instructions about his seat, and opening his crutch, getting his elbows in, and heels down.

"Sit well upright, sir, but not stiff as a ramrod. A good rider ought to be like a part of his horse."

And so on, and so on, for a few minutes, while the lieutenant looked on sternly without uttering a word, frowning severely the while.

"Attention!" shouted the sergeant again, as if he were addressing a squad of recruits; and once more the walking and trotting were gone through. There was another rest, some repet.i.tion of instructions, all of which d.i.c.k, a soldier by training, listened to in silence, and fixed as well as he could upon his memory.

But an hour had nearly gone by, and he was growing tired, while sundry internal hints suggested that breakfast would be acceptable. The lesson was not at an end, though. "Attention" was called, and the horse started again at a walk.

"Going to try him at the gallop?" said Wyatt softly.

"Yes, sir," replied the sergeant; "he can ride."

"Won't come off, will he?"

The sergeant shook his head.

"Trot!"

Away went the horse with his long, swinging stride, which without a saddle was rather a painful mode of progression for his rider.

Draw Swords! Part 8

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Draw Swords! Part 8 summary

You're reading Draw Swords! Part 8. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Manville Fenn already has 505 views.

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