Darius the eventer, p.1
Darius the Eventer, page 1
Darius
The Three-Day Eventer
Hazel M Peel
Contents
Hazel M Peel and the Leysham Stud Series
1. Darius
2. Pat
3. A Glimmer of Hope
4. Pilot
5. Good-bye, Old Friend!
6. Working Hard
7. Lost!
8. Chance It!
9. Return!
10. Badminton
11. Preparation
Some words explained
Patricia Leitch
Jane Badger
Jane Badger Books
Hazel M Peel and the Leysham Stud Series
Hazel M Peel (1930–2013) was born in Stratford in London, but the family moved to Leicester when World War II broke out. Hazel’s family were not well off, and she did errands to be able to afford the occasional riding lesson, cycling five miles to get to the riding stables she described as ‘grotty’. She left school at fourteen, and started work at the age of fifteen in a livery stables near Grimsby. The stables were an inspiration, but her digs were anything but. Food was still rationed, and Hazel didn’t get much of what there was. She said, “I was driven to trying to eat the horses’ food. Ever been that hungry when growing and doing hard physical labour? I vowed I would never be hungry again when adult and no one, NO ONE would ever shove me around. They haven’t either.”
Hazel kept moving round different stables to learn, working with hunters, point-to-pointers and show jumpers, all of which provided plenty of material for her Leysham Stud series. Its heroes, Ann and Jim Henderson, decide to start a stud dedicated to breeding what we would now call sport horses. This they do with a remarkable success that would be the envy of any stud operating now: everything they touch seems to turn to gold, whatever discipline they try. They have the secret of producing incredibly successful polo ponies, trotters, racehorses, show jumpers, and of course eventers, with Darius.
The stories were written to educate as well as inform, and so they give us a good idea of the horse and sporting world of the 1960s. Hunting was legal then, and shotgun laws were very different. Badminton was not quite as it is now: there were then two competitions run in parallel, Little Badminton and Great Badminton. As well as the penalty system, riders could get bonus points.
Darius was the penultimate book in the series: the Australian trip Ann and Jim talk about happens in the last book, Untamed. The full series is:
Pilot the Hunter
Pilot the Chaser
Easter the Show Jumper
Night Storm the Flat Racer
Dido and Rogue
Darius the Three Day Eventer
Untamed
Jane Badger, 2019
Round hoof’d, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full eye, small head and nostril wide,
High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong,
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide:
Look, what a horse should have he did not lack,
Save a proud rider on so proud a back.
Venus and Adonis, Stanza 50
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
1
Darius
The tall horse sidled impatiently to the left and switched his tail. He was tired of standing still and wanted some action. He was a beautiful horse: a palomino with a coat the colour of new gold and tail and mane like freshly whipped cream. His head, with small ears and sharp clear eyes, was held higher in the air than normal. Ann Henderson noted this fact with some annoyance.
Ann sat square and deep in the saddle, hands resting lightly on the reins to the snaffle. She was dressed in blue sweater, brown jodhpurs and boots and wearing a black skull cap. The air was sharp: there had been a night frost, and her cheeks were red from fresh air and exercise.
That’s the trouble with this horse, she thought; he’s just far too interested in everything going on around instead of putting his mind to the business at hand.
The palomino Darius passaged again, lowered his head to grind on the bit, demonstrating quite plainly that he wasn’t going to stand still much longer. Ann felt with her heels. They bounded forward towards the brush hedge.
The ears twitched as the horse measured the height and distance; he gathered his hocks under his body, pressed and they rose. For two seconds they hovered over the fence, then with legs outstretched the horse landed neatly and broke into a gallop.
Ann let him go. They tore across the large thirty-acre field, the girl forward and low in the saddle, the horse with his neck outstretched. The wind whistled in their ears. The ground rumbled underfoot. As the far fence approached Ann steadied her horse and collected him together again. This was a timber fence, tall and strong. There was no allowance for a mistake.
Darius bounded forward and flew the fence. On landing he prepared to gallop again but the bit restrained. Annoyed he shot sideways and kicked. Ann rode the movement, then pulled the horse back to a halt. She drew her legs slightly behind the girth, at the same time keeping a steady pressure on the reins. The gelding backed six paces in a direct line and halted again.
Darius stood trembling with impatience. Ann pushed him into a canter and started going down the field, bending to right and left. She felt on the one rein with neck as well as bit pressure, at the same time pressing with her leg—her right leg to go left, and vice versa, each helped by a slight movement of her back muscles.
It was hard riding; the strain being taken by the rider’s groin muscles. Good exercise for both girl and horse. She halted the horse again and insisted that he passage to the left with the same hand, leg and body movements. Darius obeyed for four seconds, saw something out of the corner of his eye, halted suddenly and turned around to have a look. It was only a bird but the excuse had been perfect.
“Now just stop that!” Ann told him and made him repeat the movement. This time he did it, but again, as soon as they had halted, up shot his head and the horse stared around looking everywhere.
Really, thought Ann, what a nosy animal! Can’t bear to be left out of anything!
She kicked suddenly with her heels. Taken unawares, the horse shot forward and Ann took him around the field again, bending to the right and then to the left first at every four paces, then three and finally two, until the horse appeared to be dancing. She pulled him back into a collected trot, with head low and neck bent at the poll. After a few paces she pushed him into an extended trot where the legs were flung out to the full extent without actually breaking into a canter.
She was soon sweating with exertion because, although Darius was not an uncomfortable ride, he was strong, keen and bold.
She finished the schooling and turned. They headed for the small hedge, popped over it and, landing in the home field, the horse faced a line of stiff jumps lying alongside the far hedge. They ranged from brush fences to timber ones, a gate and a home-made water jump.
Darius cantered towards them eagerly. He loved jumping, the faster the better. He blithely skipped over each fence, landing correctly, not making a single mistake. Ann smiled as she pulled him up and walked over to the gate where the Barton family were waiting.
Jim Henderson, her husband, opened the gate for her. He was a few years older than his wife, a tall man, a shade under six feet. He was lithe and well-muscled with a ruddy face and tousled brown hair which bushed in every direction no matter how often he combed it. He stood square and firm, feet slightly apart, wearing old blue jeans, an even older blue shirt and rather scuffed brown shoes, what he called his working rig and the dress in which he felt most comfortable. He was a man of the open air, unhappy in suits with collars and ties. Restless in cities. A person of and for the country in all weathers.
Mr Barton, Ann’s father, who stood alongside Jim smoking his pipe, was a positive dandy in contrast. In fact, he had a reputation the length and breadth of the county for being the best dressed man. Regrettably though, this tag was always ruined by the old hats he would insist upon wearing, to the disgust of his housekeeper Mrs Coe, and the family in general. He was not as tall as Jim, but had larger shoulders and a more powerful all-round build, with only a suspicion of fat now starting to appear as his age headed towards the sixties.
Grinning up at Ann, her brother Mike opened his mouth to tease, saw the look in his wife’s eye and changed his mind. He had his father’s solid build but lacked Charles Barton’s healthy, ruddy features. He was a school-teacher by profession and had little or no opportunity to get out in the fresh air except at the week-ends, whereas Mr Barton never entered the house during the day except for his meals.
But the two men were alike facially, their relationship one being obvious to any observer, and there was similarity between the features of brother and sister, though temperamentally they were poles apart but good friends, nevertheless.
Mike’s wife Susan winked at Ann. Brother and sister had always indulged in fierce verbal battles, with Mike inclined to play the heavy-handed big brother, but Susan was Ann’s stalwart ally. A tiny dot of a girl, she was almost dwarfed by the taller Ann but the two girls adored each other.
“There’s nothing much wrong with his jumping,” Mr Barton said and Jim nodded in agreement.
“But he is such an inquisitive horse! He must know everything that’s going on even if it doesn’t concern him!” Ann told them as she slid out of the saddle.
“Like someone I could … ” began Mike, seeing the perfect opening for a battle with his beloved sister. Susan dug him in the ribs. Ann looked at her brother, her eyes twinkling, quite ready for battle herself. Really, thought Susan, I don’t know who is the worse.
“What about dressage, Ann, if you are going to try him as an event horse?” continued Mr Barton, stolidly ignoring his son and daughter. He knew from past experience that Susan was far better at keeping them in order than himself.
“That’s the trouble. He’s been well schooled and is a good ride but if anything moves or just appears, Darius stops whatever he’s doing to look at it. He’s so easily distracted. So interested in everything except what I want him to do!” complained Ann, patting the palomino who, for once, was giving his rider his full attention by trying to nibble at her sweater.
“And he’s so mischievous too,” she laughed, carefully removing her sleeve from between the horse’s large, white teeth.
“Well, you’ll get nowhere in events if he falls down on the dressage through inattention, even though he can jump and gallop,” commented Mr Barton.
“My!” said Mike. “This stud does breed them. All the problem horses of the equine world. You name it, they’ve either had or still have it,” he teased his sister.
Ann put her tongue out at him and winked slyly at Susan. They really thought the world of each other but would not dream of saying so outright. Mike suddenly became serious.
“Is he a star-gazer, Sis?”
Ann considered for a few seconds.
“I suppose the answer is ‘yes’ and ‘no’ depending upon what he’s doing. It’s only when something attracts his attention and curiosity that he immediately stops what he’s doing to stand and stare and … ”
“What on earth is a star-gazer?” interrupted Susan,
“A horse that is too busy sticking his head high in the air to see where he’s going,” explained Mike. “Because of this they can come down easily and be dangerous!” he added grimly.
“He’s a good safe jumper. There’s no doubt about that. And he has a sweet temperament—but this curiosity of his!” Ann shook her head in exasperation as she swung back into the saddle.
“Now just watch him. I’ll ride in the centre of the field and do a few exercises. Dad, take off your hat suddenly.”
In great interest the family watched Ann in the centre of the field as she rode the horse in a figure-of-eight at a collected canter, The horse was under full discipline, obviously concentrating on his rider. Mr Barton quickly removed his hat and held it away from his body.
In a second the horse halted. He disregarded Ann, swung around and stared curiously at this sudden movement he had seen from the corner of his eye. What was it? What did it mean? Friend or foe? Should he stay or go? Was it to eat? Darius completely ignored Ann’s heels rapping on his ribs. The movement of the bit was nothing but a mere flea-bite of irritation. Only when satisfied that nothing of further interest was about to happen did he condescend to canter again.
When Ann rejoined them Mike grinned at her. “He’s rather like a boy in one of my lower forms at school. A bright kid, in fact he’s as sharp as a needle, but the slightest thing will distract his attention and I might just as well stand and talk to a brick wall. But he’s a lovable boy. I just can’t get mad with him!”
“Why, that’s this horse all over. Do you know, the other day I could have strangled him. I see to him in the stable as I’m riding him regularly and I happened to be wearing my new riding coat. He’d never seen it before. Well, I hung it on the top door, on the outside, mind you. Now that’s three feet at least from the box wall. When I came back from bringing some fresh straw he’d somehow pulled my coat into the stable and was trying to go through every pocket! Of course, I’ve now got to get another coat. He’d ripped the pockets with his teeth!” The family roared with laughter.
“He sounds like a practical joker!” said Mr Barton dryly.
“And an expensive one too!” Ann told him ruefully as she slapped the horse playfully on his neck.
The family dispersed, the men going back into the house for a hot drink. After Ann had seen to Darius she and Susan strolled down to Miriam, who lived with her husband Tom in the large cottage on the Leysham property.
Tom had once worked for Mr Barton on his farm but when Ann and Jim married he too had followed suit and come to work for them. Although no rider he adored the horses and the Hendersons had now taken him into the business as a full partner.
Miriam greeted them in her kitchen where she had been cooking cakes. My, thought Ann, Tom should be as fat as a pig with Miriam’s marvellous food and she’s always cooking. You’d think she had ten men in the house to feed!
Red-cheeked and plump, Miriam was only Susan’s height. The three girls, all in their twenties, were firm friends, having been through many crises. The Hendersons, and Ann in particular, seemed to have a penchant for getting involved in one kind of trouble or another.
A lot of their trouble had arisen over a black colt, Night Storm, who had been stolen as a youngster and then, while being trained for racing, had been doped. It was Ann who had come across the dopers in the middle of the night. She had been involved in a fight but had given a good account of herself. Only the previous year they had dealt with a savage horse. A bay colt, Rogue, which they had bred, had developed into a dangerous animal, attacking Ann’s small nephew Robert. The child’s life had been saved by their assistant groom. Finally, Ann had lost herself while driving on Dartmoor and had been attacked by escaping convicts and though she dealt with them she had nearly died on the Moor from injury and exposure during the cold winter weather.
Pat O’Hara, their young groom, lived with Miriam and Tom. He, too, had been involved in nearly all their troubles, one way or another. The Hendersons had originally met Pat when Night Storm was stolen and it was Pat who had been the main party, through blackmail, in the doping of the racehorse. But it was Pat who, at the risk of his own life, had saved Robert when the savage Rogue attacked him. The Hendersons had been so grateful they had let him choose any animal on the stud and they would stand the expense of keeping and training. Pat had chosen a filly whom he called Jenny.
As Ann often put it, they never suffered from boredom on Leysham Stud because something always seemed to happen to sharpen their daily lives. As a child Ann had, like most youngsters, wanted to indulge in ‘adventures’ and now, as an adult, she sometimes wistfully thought how much simpler life would be if adventures passed Leysham by. Though really, deep down, she thrived on conflict and trouble, always rising above them by nature of her fighting temperament, rock-like determination and general good-humour.
“How’s Pat and Jenny?” asked Susan.
“That boy and his filly!” groaned Miriam. Ann and Susan grinned.
Pat loved his little Jenny so much that at times, Ann thought, the filly must think he’s a real parent. Whenever Pat appeared the filly went wild with excitement and she was as tame as a dog.
“Do you know what that boy did the other morning? He came back for his coffee and there was that animal following him. She tried to come in here, if you please!”
Ann and Susan screamed with laughter at Miriam’s indignant expression. She was very house-proud and waged constant war on all dirt!
“I soon sent them both packing. In my kitchen indeed!” Miriam snorted, then remembering something she added in a conspiratorial tone: “Mind you, I think that Jenny’s going to get some competition in the future.”
“What do you mean?” asked the two girls.
“Farmer Thompson’s youngest and our Pat!”
“No!” they echoed in excitement.
“Yes!” said Miriam, delighted at being the bearer of such exciting chit-chat. “Three Saturday evenings in a row Pat’s been seen at the village dance hall and three times Betty Thompson’s been there, and she doesn’t like dancing, or so she makes out!”
