Hoof Beats in Africa 2: Eventing Fallada

By Nikki Scrivener

Born on a farm in Africa. Riding before I could walk. I finally master clever Deborah the donkey but now I have a new challenge, training Fallada.

I want to be chosen for the Pony Club team but will I get this crazy chestnut mare to do well at dressage and eventing?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jun 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499002843

Nikki Scrivener

Born on a farm in Africa. Riding before I could walk. I finally master clever Deborah the donkey but now I have a new challenge, training Fallada. I want to be chosen for the Pony Club team but will I get this crazy chestnut mare to do well at dressage and eventing?

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Nikki Scrivener

Copyright © 2014 by Nikki Scrivener. 61910

ISBN: Softcover 978-1-4990-0286-7

EBook 978-1-4990-0284-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 06/11/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-800-455-039

www.xlibris.com.au

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1: HIPPO HOLIDAY

CHAPTER 2: THE FOAL

CHAPTER 3: TOY HORSES

CHAPTER 4: PONY CLUB RALLY

CHAPTER 5: DRESSAGE TRAINING AND THE SHOW.

CHAPTER 6: SYLVESTER AND MOONGLOW

CHAPTER 7: PUPPET SHOW

CHAPTER 8: BIRTHDAY PRESENT AND A RIDING COURSE

CHAPTER 9: PONY CAMP

CHAPTER 10: THE EVENT

CHAPTER 1

HIPPO HOLIDAY

The clip clop of the horses’ hoof beats sounded like music, the music of Africa. The line of horses trotted down the hard packed clay road heading towards the great expanse of water of Lake Kyle, the second largest man-made Lake in Zimbabwe. It was so large it stretched to the horizon like an inland sea. Grazing beside its lapping waters was a herd of zebra and wildebeest or gnu. The stripy zebras often grazed beside the ugly, dark brown wildebeest. At first glance they looked like oxen with their curling horns and swishing tails but they were very energetic beasts. As we approached they galloped in circles, snorting and bucking, disturbing the zebras that joined in the gallop. Then they stopped to watch us approach.

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The park horses were used to wild game or wild animals. Lake Kyle National Park was generally known as a game park, which is a place where wild animals can roam as if free in a large fenced area. There is a network of roads over the whole park so the game rangers can keep an eye on the wild animals and the tourists can view them. Today we were extra lucky because we could view them from horseback. Lake Kyle Game Park could have horses because there were no lions or cheetahs in the park which might eat the horses. The biggest predator was a leopard but they are shy and tend to stay in the hills and hunt at night, when the horses were stabled.

Horses can get much closer to the wild animals than cars can so we were soon walking right through the middle of the herd of zebras and wildebeest. The zebras were slightly smaller than the horse I was riding and I loved watching them buck and play. Zebras are my favourite animal. When I was a baby my mother hand reared a zebra after it had been left stranded in a mud hole on a neighbouring farm. The zebra had become part of the family living in the garden but often wandering into the house. Before I could walk I was sitting on the zebras back or pulling myself up by its tail. It lived with us for quite a few years and had even been taught to be ridden before it was released with a herd of wild zebras to breed.

Another wild animal I loved were the giraffes. Riding beside the lapping waters of Lake Kyle we saw two graceful giraffes walk out from the flat topped thorn trees and spread their front legs wide before dipping their long necks down to have a drink.

We paused to watch them. Some of the tourists had their cameras with them and they were trying to get good photographs while still maintaining some control of their horses.

One young girl looked very unhappy on her horse. Her dad was trying to get close to the giraffe to take a photo and each time he put up his hand to take a photo his horse swung round knocking into her horse. She clutched onto the saddle with one hand and had a death like grip with the other on its mouth. The poor horse was getting frantic and swirled in circles jerking its head down and up.

My horse stood solidly in line and would not move out of line whatever I did. I wished I could have brought my little pony Kadiki as he was so obedient and well behaved.

The giraffe was rather put off by the swirling horses and walked past us with a disdainful expression on its face. My horse’s withers hardly reached the giraffe’s tummy as it gracefully walked past us and then suddenly got a fright and bounded forward in a canter. It looked as if it was in slow motion.

We carried on along the water’s edge admiring the wild white faced ducks and many species of birds in the rushes including the Grey Heron and the Black Smith Plover and the African fish eagle giving out its haunting cry. In the distance we could see a powerful motor boat speeding over the water. We were lucky enough to come across a scaly ant eater or pangolin, flicking at ants with his long tongue. The avid photographers were trying to get indecently close again and the young girl started wailing as her horse swung out of line after her dad and then swung in circle nearly trampling the poor scaly ant eater who quickly rolled up in a ball and rolled away when the horses hoof kicked him. He was unharmed but wasn’t going to unroll himself until we were well away from him again.

We were now following a narrow path between thorn scrub and the anxious wailing of the young girl was getting on everyone’s nerves including her horse that again swung out of line and scratched the young girl on a thorn tree. Her wailing turned into real tears. The exasperated trail guide looked round for a suitable horse to put her on and his eyes rested on my stead that stood firmly in line.

Would you mind swapping? he asked me.

Not at all, I said, very happy to think I might have a horse I could guide a bit.

As we came out into a clearing the guide caught her horse and quickly lifted her down and hefted her onto my horse. I was able to get on by myself and was glad I did it quickly as I suddenly realised we were sharing the clearing with a rhinoceros; a not very happy rhinoceros! Her little back eyes blinked as she tried to focus on these strange creatures invading her territory. Then she lowered her head, waving her two centrally placed horns menacingly. She looked as if she was about to charge the whole ride but the guide was also back on his horse and he charged the rhinoceros shouting loudly. Intimidated by the noise and the charge, the rhinoceros swung away and trotted into the bushes followed by its tiny calf. We then understood why she was feeling so protective. I was just glad I was up on a horse; not in the path of a stampeding rhinoceros.

My new horse took a while to settle but I was soon able to steer it around bushes and get a better view of the wildlife. The young lady was much happier on a horse that stayed firmly in line. I was even allowed to go on ahead with the better riders and have a canter. The front of the ride is the best place to be as you see all the wild animals as they scatter off the path, the ones at the back only see the animals peeping out of the thick bushes. We soon had an impressive list of animals we had seen including the graceful grey kudu, the waterbuck with a white ring on its quarters, the little grey duiker, a laughing hyena, a troop of silver vervet monkeys with little black faces and the noisy big baboons, giving challenging barks when we frightened them away from the tasty fig tree. We even saw a glimpse of a black sable with large curving horns and the heavy eland with straight twirling horns. We lost count of the number of different birds but the large black and white ostrich seemed to escort us back to the park gate. The horses filed back to their stables glad to have a long drink of water. We dismounted stiffly after two hours in the saddle. Some of the tourists were not used to riding and looked almost crippled!

My mum and I walked back to our campsite passing the offices and the crocodile enclosure where the massive, man-eating crocodiles were kept in a small pond and fed. There were crocodiles in the lake too and could live freely as long as they didn’t try to eat people.

Back at camp, my dad and brother had put the fold up chairs in a shady spot overlooking the lake. The kettle was on the gas stove, bubbling furiously ready for tea and boerewors sausages sizzled over the fire in the stone fireplace ready for lunch. The milk was kept cool in the small camping fridge. What a life! We had packed up the camping trailer on Thursday night and when school ended on Friday at one o’clock, we had driven the two hundred and ninety kilometres to Lake Kyle. On Sunday morning we would pack up and return home ready for another week at school. I was enjoying the break but secretly I couldn’t wait to get home because my new horse, Fallada, was having a foal, any day now!

Fallada and Kadiki had been bought at a horse sale when the owners of the farm had been killed in the war. The horses had been running wild on the farm. Usually they were dipped once a week by herding them through a spray race like cattle. When