Jump to the Top by Patricia Leitch

Author:Patricia Leitch [Leitch, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jane Badger Books

12

“Did you get a programme from the Pony Club?” Erica asked Jacky on the first morning of their summer holidays.

“Yes,” said Jacky. “Arrow trail at Craigie House next Wednesday, four working rallies, a visit to racing stables at Fenton and the Pony Club gymkhana on the 12th of August.”

“Where’s Craigie House?” asked Erica.

“Only about half an hour’s hack,” Jacky told her. “I should think I could take Flicka as long as I don’t jump her.”

“You certainly could not jump her. She hasn’t started jumping yet and it would give her the absolutely wrong idea about the whole thing if you went galloping over walls in the middle of a herd of Pony Clubbers all being more or less run away with anyway!” said Erica sternly.

On the day of the arrow trail the driveway in front of Craigie House was jammed with ponies of all shapes and sizes. The smallest was a piebald Shetland grazing happily along the flowerbeds while the little boy perched on top pulled frantically at his reins trying to stop him.

Mrs Marshall came out of the house and began to shout instructions through a loud hailer. She explained that the arrow trail had been laid that morning by her husband and herself, and that there were arrows chalked on trees and gate posts, paper arrows pinned on to stakes in the ground, and arrows chalked on stone walls. She also said that there were plenty of false trails and it wouldn’t be those who galloped fastest that would reach the treasure first. Anyone who hadn’t struck gold by half-past three should ride back to Craigie House where cakes and fizz would be waiting for them. The greedier members cheered.

“Now if you’ll all wait just another minute till I get Hobbit I’ll lead you to the start of the treasure trail. After that it is up to yourselves.”

Mrs Marshall, mounted on her big bay hunter, led them all down the drive, along the road and into a large field that sloped gently upwards to a little copse of oak trees. She waited until all the riders were through the gate, then, standing up in her stirrups, she shouted, “The trail starts over there amongst the trees. Good luck and be back in time for the grub.”

Flicka was in the very front of the charge. She raced along loving every minute of it. When they reached the trees there were shouts of surprise, for instead of one arrow, three arrows pointed in different directions.

Jacky waited for Erica who was coming across the field at a collected canter.

By the time Erica reached the trees nearly all the other children had chosen a trail and trotted out of sight.

“You shouldn’t have waited,” Erica shouted. “I don’t like letting her gallop over rough ground in case it makes her leg worse.”

“Flicka was out of breath. Which way shall we go?”

“Not the arrow to the right,” said Duncan Thornthwaite who had ridden up with Erica. “I remember that way from another year and it just leads to the quarry.

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