“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, glad that his feelings weren’t still hurt.
W HEN THEY REACHED the campsite, The Saddle Club girls knew just what to do. The rule on the Pine Hollow trip was horses first, riders second. They dismounted and untacked their horses and led them to the nearby stream, where they could get a drink of water. Then the horses would need grooming and fresh hay, followed by more water and, finally, a full meal of grain, which had been delivered to the campsite’s paddock. After that, the girls would check their tack and stow it for the night. Then it would be time to set up the campsite.
It was that simple—and it was that complicated.
“I can’t lift the saddle.”
“
I’ve
got to have something to eat first.”
“I don’t know how to do this stuff.”
“Why can’t Fred do it?”
“I thought we were supposed to learn to ride, not work!”
And so on. The Saddle Club couldn’t believe the way some of the campers were acting. Some of them made honest attempts to complete the obvious chores like untacking, but a lot of them seemed to think that everything except the actual riding was beneath them.
Stevie, Carole, and Lisa were too well trained byMax. Nothing having to do with stable management and horse care was beneath a good rider. Patiently, the girls pitched in to help other campers complete the work. It didn’t earn them many thanks. Mostly what they got were surprised looks.
Carole helped the others with untacking, Lisa managed the watering and feeding, and Stevie supervised grooming. Stevie, it turned out, was the all-time champion hoof-picker.
“Three stones!” she announced proudly as the third pebble in one horse’s hoof hit the ground. Her friends applauded. The other campers remained mystified.
When Fred delivered the first bale of hay to the paddock area, Lisa snapped the wire that held it and began breaking it into one-horse flakes. But something was wrong, and she knew what it was right away. The hay had that same odd, almost sickly sweet smell that she’d noticed in the moldy bale back at camp.
“Fred, this stuff doesn’t smell right to me,” she said.
Fred shrugged and walked away.
Lisa couldn’t feed that hay to the horses. It would almost certainly make them sick. One horse with colic was bad news, but a whole paddock full of them would be a disaster. She got one of the boys to give her a hand. Together they carried the moldy bale into an open area of the woods and spread it around on the forest floor, where it would eventually dry out andwhere no horses could reach it. Then they found a fresh bale, which they opened and fed to the horses in the makeshift paddock.
Barry and Betty were busy overseeing the mixing of the horse’s grain. Lisa didn’t want to bother them about Fred’s most recent mistake. Besides, she wasn’t too sure it was her place to tell them. After all, no harm had been done. She told herself she’d think about it later. Her thoughts were interrupted by more squabbling campers.
“I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t care
what
Barry said. I’m not picking up kindling for every single fireplace in the whole campsite. I’m not sitting at every fire, so I’m not building every fire!”
“Me, neither!” said the girl’s companion.
Well, at least there were two campers who agreed on something!
Lisa returned to the campsite and helped pitch tents. Carole, being a Marine Corps brat, was of course the champion at that. Finally, the campers finished their chores. At last they could enjoy the campsite.
It was a nice campsite, with tents pitched among tall pine trees. Carole like camping in piny woods, because the pine needles cushioned the ground and that was good for sleeping. The area was open enough so that there was no danger from the camp fires. Leaning against neighboring tree trunks, Carole and herfriends could see the clear sky above. It was still light. They were having an early dinner, so there would still be
W HEN THEY REACHED the campsite, The Saddle Club girls knew just what to do. The rule on the Pine Hollow trip was horses first, riders second. They dismounted and untacked their horses and led them to the nearby stream, where they could get a drink of water. Then the horses would need grooming and fresh hay, followed by more water and, finally, a full meal of grain, which had been delivered to the campsite’s paddock. After that, the girls would check their tack and stow it for the night. Then it would be time to set up the campsite.
It was that simple—and it was that complicated.
“I can’t lift the saddle.”
“
I’ve
got to have something to eat first.”
“I don’t know how to do this stuff.”
“Why can’t Fred do it?”
“I thought we were supposed to learn to ride, not work!”
And so on. The Saddle Club couldn’t believe the way some of the campers were acting. Some of them made honest attempts to complete the obvious chores like untacking, but a lot of them seemed to think that everything except the actual riding was beneath them.
Stevie, Carole, and Lisa were too well trained byMax. Nothing having to do with stable management and horse care was beneath a good rider. Patiently, the girls pitched in to help other campers complete the work. It didn’t earn them many thanks. Mostly what they got were surprised looks.
Carole helped the others with untacking, Lisa managed the watering and feeding, and Stevie supervised grooming. Stevie, it turned out, was the all-time champion hoof-picker.
“Three stones!” she announced proudly as the third pebble in one horse’s hoof hit the ground. Her friends applauded. The other campers remained mystified.
When Fred delivered the first bale of hay to the paddock area, Lisa snapped the wire that held it and began breaking it into one-horse flakes. But something was wrong, and she knew what it was right away. The hay had that same odd, almost sickly sweet smell that she’d noticed in the moldy bale back at camp.
“Fred, this stuff doesn’t smell right to me,” she said.
Fred shrugged and walked away.
Lisa couldn’t feed that hay to the horses. It would almost certainly make them sick. One horse with colic was bad news, but a whole paddock full of them would be a disaster. She got one of the boys to give her a hand. Together they carried the moldy bale into an open area of the woods and spread it around on the forest floor, where it would eventually dry out andwhere no horses could reach it. Then they found a fresh bale, which they opened and fed to the horses in the makeshift paddock.
Barry and Betty were busy overseeing the mixing of the horse’s grain. Lisa didn’t want to bother them about Fred’s most recent mistake. Besides, she wasn’t too sure it was her place to tell them. After all, no harm had been done. She told herself she’d think about it later. Her thoughts were interrupted by more squabbling campers.
“I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t care
what
Barry said. I’m not picking up kindling for every single fireplace in the whole campsite. I’m not sitting at every fire, so I’m not building every fire!”
“Me, neither!” said the girl’s companion.
Well, at least there were two campers who agreed on something!
Lisa returned to the campsite and helped pitch tents. Carole, being a Marine Corps brat, was of course the champion at that. Finally, the campers finished their chores. At last they could enjoy the campsite.
It was a nice campsite, with tents pitched among tall pine trees. Carole like camping in piny woods, because the pine needles cushioned the ground and that was good for sleeping. The area was open enough so that there was no danger from the camp fires. Leaning against neighboring tree trunks, Carole and herfriends could see the clear sky above. It was still light. They were having an early dinner, so there would still be
Similar Books
