plenty of light for their mounted games.
“This sort of reminds me of the story of The Little Red Hen,” Carole remarked to her friends, taking her first bite of Trail Stew and washing it down with fruit punch. “Nobody wants to share the work, but everybody wants to share the cake.”
Stevie and Lisa agreed totally.
“Even Phil seems to catch the disease sometimes,” Stevie remarked, surprising Lisa and Carole with her frankness.
The girls ate the rest of their meal in silence. For one thing, they were really tired, too tired to do their usual chatting. For another, right then, there didn’t seem to be anything to say. It had all been said and it was trouble and they all knew it.
T HE FIRST GAME Barry chose for them to play was Follow-the-Leader. He very wisely chose Stevie as a leader. Nobody was more able to do so many ridiculous things on horseback. The only problem was that the first thing Stevie did as leader was to imitate the silly position she’d gotten everybody into on the afternoon ride. Both Carole and Lisa were laughing so hard that they couldn’t do it.
“You two, you’re out!” Barry yelled.
They pulled over to the side and watched the rest. Stevie had the riders sit both cross-legged and backwards on their saddles—horses standing still, of course. She tried a sidesaddle seat, but it was difficult without a genuine sidesaddle, and she almost fell offherself. When Phil and another rider did, they joined Carole and Lisa on the sidelines.
At the end of the game, Barry took over and started them on Simon-Says. Lisa and Carole thought Stevie had done more amusing things, but it didn’t matter. It was all fun.
Next, they played a game called Touch Wood. It was sort of like tag, but anybody touching wood—for example, a tree, a fence post, or a gate—was safe. But every time the whistle blew, everybody had to change trees or whatever wood they were touching.
“This is wild!” Lisa gasped, swapping trees with Carole at a canter while Nora chased both of them.
“And a good learning experience, too!” Carole said, reaching as long and hard as she could for her new tree, but she wasn’t fast enough.
“You’re It!” Nora declared.
Watching Carole, Lisa thought about what she’d said about learning. It was true. The game was great practice in horse control, particularly direction changes. Fortunately for Carole, she was a good enough rider that she wasn’t It for long. Within a very short time, Lisa was It.
I’m learning, I’m learning
, she told herself as she dashed after the riders who scattered across the field.
I’m learning. And most of all, I’m having fun!
After Touch Wood, they played another variation,Freeze Tag, which involved even more horse control than Touch Wood, since anybody who had been tagged had to remain completely still—as did the horse.
The riders concentrated so hard on their games that they barely noticed when the sun set and night came on.
“Time to quit,” Barry announced. “All of you walk your horses until he’s cooled down, untack him, and give him water and fresh hay. We’ll meet at the camp fire in half an hour for ghost stories. Anybody who wants to can tell a ghost story, but the principle character in the story
must
be a horse!”
Contented and tired and looking forward to a quiet camp-fire time, Carole quickly took care of Basil and then helped Lisa finish putting away Major’s tack.
“Wait until Barry hears the one about the werehorse!” Carole said to Lisa.
“That sounds like a Stevie kind of story,” Lisa remarked.
“Yes, it does,” Carole said. “And speaking of Stevie, I haven’t seen her for a while, have you?”
Lisa hung Major’s bridle over his saddle. “Yes, actually, I did see her—or at least the back of her. I think she and Phil are going to miss your story about the werehorse. I also think we may have to cover for her.”
“What are friends for?” Carole asked. She gaveBasil a final pat on his nose.
“This sort of reminds me of the story of The Little Red Hen,” Carole remarked to her friends, taking her first bite of Trail Stew and washing it down with fruit punch. “Nobody wants to share the work, but everybody wants to share the cake.”
Stevie and Lisa agreed totally.
“Even Phil seems to catch the disease sometimes,” Stevie remarked, surprising Lisa and Carole with her frankness.
The girls ate the rest of their meal in silence. For one thing, they were really tired, too tired to do their usual chatting. For another, right then, there didn’t seem to be anything to say. It had all been said and it was trouble and they all knew it.
T HE FIRST GAME Barry chose for them to play was Follow-the-Leader. He very wisely chose Stevie as a leader. Nobody was more able to do so many ridiculous things on horseback. The only problem was that the first thing Stevie did as leader was to imitate the silly position she’d gotten everybody into on the afternoon ride. Both Carole and Lisa were laughing so hard that they couldn’t do it.
“You two, you’re out!” Barry yelled.
They pulled over to the side and watched the rest. Stevie had the riders sit both cross-legged and backwards on their saddles—horses standing still, of course. She tried a sidesaddle seat, but it was difficult without a genuine sidesaddle, and she almost fell offherself. When Phil and another rider did, they joined Carole and Lisa on the sidelines.
At the end of the game, Barry took over and started them on Simon-Says. Lisa and Carole thought Stevie had done more amusing things, but it didn’t matter. It was all fun.
Next, they played a game called Touch Wood. It was sort of like tag, but anybody touching wood—for example, a tree, a fence post, or a gate—was safe. But every time the whistle blew, everybody had to change trees or whatever wood they were touching.
“This is wild!” Lisa gasped, swapping trees with Carole at a canter while Nora chased both of them.
“And a good learning experience, too!” Carole said, reaching as long and hard as she could for her new tree, but she wasn’t fast enough.
“You’re It!” Nora declared.
Watching Carole, Lisa thought about what she’d said about learning. It was true. The game was great practice in horse control, particularly direction changes. Fortunately for Carole, she was a good enough rider that she wasn’t It for long. Within a very short time, Lisa was It.
I’m learning, I’m learning
, she told herself as she dashed after the riders who scattered across the field.
I’m learning. And most of all, I’m having fun!
After Touch Wood, they played another variation,Freeze Tag, which involved even more horse control than Touch Wood, since anybody who had been tagged had to remain completely still—as did the horse.
The riders concentrated so hard on their games that they barely noticed when the sun set and night came on.
“Time to quit,” Barry announced. “All of you walk your horses until he’s cooled down, untack him, and give him water and fresh hay. We’ll meet at the camp fire in half an hour for ghost stories. Anybody who wants to can tell a ghost story, but the principle character in the story
must
be a horse!”
Contented and tired and looking forward to a quiet camp-fire time, Carole quickly took care of Basil and then helped Lisa finish putting away Major’s tack.
“Wait until Barry hears the one about the werehorse!” Carole said to Lisa.
“That sounds like a Stevie kind of story,” Lisa remarked.
“Yes, it does,” Carole said. “And speaking of Stevie, I haven’t seen her for a while, have you?”
Lisa hung Major’s bridle over his saddle. “Yes, actually, I did see her—or at least the back of her. I think she and Phil are going to miss your story about the werehorse. I also think we may have to cover for her.”
“What are friends for?” Carole asked. She gaveBasil a final pat on his nose.
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