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The doctor threw the reins on the horse's neck.
"I want to go to the left."
To Nic's astonishment the horse bore away to the left, and his own followed suit.
"Now I want to go to the right." The horse turned in that direction.
"Now I want to turn right round."
The horse turned right about.
"Now straight back."
The horses began to return upon their tracks, Nic's eyes following every motion.
"Now round again, and forward."
Once more the horse, turning right about, went straight forward, Sour Sorrel taking pace for pace.
"Why, it's wonderful, father!" cried Nic. "Australian horses must understand plain English."
"Well, they are English bred," said the doctor, laughing. "Twenty years ago there was not a horse in the country. But now, tell me, why did you check your horse?"
"To get down so as to shoot."
"Nonsense! Fire from his back when I tell you."
"But it will frighten him, and he'll gallop off, and I shall be sure to fall."
"It will not frighten him, for the horse will stand like a rock, knowing when you are going to fire. You can rest your gun between his ears if you like, only you could not get so steady an aim. It's quite true.
That nag is beautifully broken. I reared him from a foal and trained him expressly for you."
"Thank you, father; but I think I would rather ride yours."
"Why?"
"He seems so much better trained."
"Not so well, boy."
"But tell me: how did you make him go any way you wished?"
"The simplest way in the world. Let your reins drop on his neck."
Nic obeyed.
"Now press the side with your right leg. That's right. Now with the left. Good. Now keep on with the pressure, and the nag will turn right round. Now press both legs together. Very well indeed. Now you see there is no magic in the matter."
Nic was astounded, for the horse had acted just in the same way as his father's.
"Let me tell you another thing. If you jump down--no, no, don't do it-- but if you jump down, pa.s.s the rein over the nag's head and throw it on the ground: he will stand perfectly still."
"Without the rein being fastened to a peg or tree?"
"Yes. Try it when you get down. Now you see you are learning to ride.
But I want this trot, so be ready for your shot. c.o.c.k your gun."
Nic made the lock click, and felt a thrill of antic.i.p.ation run through his nerves.
"Whit shall I shoot at, father?"
"Well, you may as well practise at something running or flying."
"A bird?"
"Yes, if you see a good specimen. You may as well collect some of our beautiful birds. Wait a bit: I dare say we shall see something before long."
They paced on for about a quarter of a mile, and then a large animal was startled from out of some bushes, made a flying leap, and then went off in a series of tremendous bounds, and all the faster for the shot Nic fired and which whistled through the air over its head.
"A good miss, Nic," said his father.
"Didn't I hit it, father?"
"No, my boy--not with a single shot, even. But you see your horse did not move."
"I forgot all about that," said Nic. "I suppose that was a kangaroo, father?"
"No doubt about that, Nic. They can go pretty well, eh?"
"Tremendously. But what an enormous tail!"
"Yes, it seems to act like a balance and a support when they land, for they go almost entirely upon their hind legs. But I meant you to have tried for a shot farther on, where there is a bit of river and some low damp ground. You might perhaps have secured a goose for our supper, or had a shot at one of the snakes, which like the moisture. But come: here's a good open stretch of land. Let's have our trot. Keep your heels down, sit fairly well up, and don't think about falling. If you do come off, it is a very little way to go, and the horse's pace will take him clear of you. Now then, turn those stirrups over his back."
"Oh, father! let me keep my stirrups."
"Certainly not; they would not help you a bit, only prove a danger to a novice; and remember this: once you can ride without stirrups you can ride with. Ready?"
Nic reluctantly turned the stirrup leathers across.
"Yes, father," he said, rather hesitatingly.
"Then off!"
The horses started at the pressure given by the doctor's heels, and the next moment Nic was b.u.mping about in the saddle, slipping first a little to one side, then to the other, making attempts to get over on to the horse's neck, and having hard work to keep his gun well across his knees.
It was hot, breathless work; and moment by moment Nic told himself that he must come off; but he did not, and went on b.u.mp, b.u.mp, b.u.mp, b.u.mp, conscious that his father was watching him from the corners of his eyes.
"I do wish he'd stop," thought Nic, as the nag trotted steadily on; and then the boy thought of the Kentish common and the games they had had with the donkeys--when, almost as soon as a boy was mounted, another came to tickle the donkey's tail with a piece of furze, with the result that the animal's head went down, its heels up, and the rider off on to his back, perhaps into a furze or bramble patch.