Dido and Rogue by Hazel M Peel

Author:Hazel M Peel [Peel, Hazel M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jane Badger Books

7

Good Sport!

IT WAS A HOT summer day when Ann and Jim arrived on the polo field with the rest of the home team. Again Jim’s club were playing ‘white’, and Ann positioned herself at the pony lines until Jim suggested that the other grooms could manage. He would rather she stationed herself mid-field with his spare sticks and stirrup-leathers—a place he could reach easily from any part of the field.

There was a considerable crowd, ready to enjoy a fast game and relax in the lovely weather. The field was un­boarded, and Ann sat on the edge of the boundary lines, as near as she was allowed to the actual field of play.

Jim set out on Dido. As this was a six-chukka match, he had decided to ride the mare for the first, fourth, and last chukkas, using club ponies for the rest. They lined up, the two opposing teams facing the starter, numbers one, two, and three with their opposite numbers, while the backs roamed restlessly at the rear. Jim eyed the ‘black’ number one, then concentrated on the game. The ball flew over the grass, both number ones bent excitedly for it, and Jim lost. He whipped Dido around and chased after the ‘black’ number one, who, sensing the close pursuit, smacked the ball across the field to ‘black’ number two.

Jim pulled Dido back, saw that ‘black’ number three was helping his forward on the off side, and decided to ride the forward off from the left. He hurled Dido around and closed rapidly, while ‘black’s’ forward whacked the ball to his number three. Baulked, Jim swung Dido aside. The mare pirouetted neatly on her hocks to change direction as she landed, and chased after the ball. At this second it lay alone on the grass, with both number ones haring for it. Jim shouted at his mare, and with flattened ears Dido increased her speed. Jim eyed the ball: he must take it on his near side, but get it away from the goal. He lifted his stick, aimed, and clouted the ball with a backhander.

“Good, Jim!” shouted his captain, who, anticipating this, was close behind. The captain nudged the ball, dribbled it a pace, then swiped it down the field and chased it furiously, hotly followed by three ‘black’ players. Jim followed in the rear, eyeing the play ahead, alert to dive forward to help if he could. But the experience and strength of the ‘black’ team were telling.

They captured the ball, and en masse brought it down the field, then, almost unopposed, scored an easy goal. The teams changed sides, and play started again, with ‘black’ immediately grabbing the ball.

This is no good, thought Jim; we’re going to be badly beaten. I must get that ball away somehow. Rather recklessly he rode across the field, realized he was illegally blocking a ‘black’ forward’s Right of Way, and swung aside. He waited until the man was aiming for the ball, then rode up on the same side as the ball, and hooked his stick.

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