Riding

Autumn 1926

A missing moment set after Son of Billabong, wherein Wally and Norah ride a pony with their small son, Davie.

"Hang on with your knees, old chap!"

"Mine is hanging on wiv mine knees!" came the rather indignant reply.

Wally grinned as Norah led the small Shetland pony past his vantage point on the cap of the fence. Perched atop the stout black creature was a tiny boy, with hair scarcely less tawny than his mount. He was tall for three, with curls and sparkling brown eyes that mirrored his fathers in an uncanny likeness. At this particular moment, however, his face was twisted in a frown of concentration, his chubby cheeks flushed.

Wally observed closely as his wife brought the pony on another circuit of the small paddock. He saw her turn and speak to Davie for a moment, before breaking into a slow jog which urged the Shetland to a trot. Davie's countenance was filled with alarm for a moment, before he gripped as firmly as one could expect with his chubby legs. His father, meanwhile, turned a providentially blind eye to the grim clutch on the pommel as the Shetland's short stride jostled him about the saddle.

Norah slowed to a walk as she reached Wally.

"Very satisfactory," the latter smiled, squeezing Norah's hand. Davie beamed up at his father.

"Mine hold'em on plenty good, Dad!"

"Indeed you did, little fellow. Well done! You'll do your mother proud someday."

"He'll do his mother proud now," said Norah, firmly. "I was excessively proud of how he stuck on when we trotted."

Davie nodded vigorously to accentuate this argument, before attempting to dismount in a rather clumsy fashion. Having observed mankind on horseback since he was the tiniest of babies, there was some form of method to his endeavor. Norah and Wally smiled quietly at one another as he labored to disentangle himself from the saddle.

"And mine been getting off the pony, mine thinkit," the small boy pronounced. Turning to Wally, he looked up with an enquiring eye. "Dad—now plenty good time to try wiv larger pony? And Dad ride wiv me?"

"Why, you young buckjumper," laughed Norah, patting the Shetland's neck. "Are you in search of wilder steeds, Davie?"

"On'y a bigger pony, so's Dad can ride wiv me," came the steadfast reply.

Wally grinned again and scooped up his small son. "Naturally, old chap. Come on, Norah, asthore; to the stables we go, in search of a more appropriate means of transportation!" He tucked Davie under one arm, amidst protests that, "Mine plenty big enough to walk!" and reached for Norah with his other hand. Wrapping it about her waist, the trio ambled toward the stables, with Shetland in tow.

A quarter of an hour later, Norah had retired to a convenient perch to observe the retreating forms of her husband and son. Davie was screened from view by Wally's long back as the pair walked placidly across the paddock on a small, steady horse kept handy for just such moments. Norah smiled absently as she watched. Wally's long legs were barely a foot off the ground, and his boots brushed the long grass stalks. Having travelled some two-hundred yards away, he circled the horse to the left, bringing Davie into view.

The small King-of-all-Billabongs was sitting on a pillow in front of his father. He sat very tall, and Norah could tell he refrained from flailing his small arms and legs in delight by the slimmest margin. Even from a distance, she knew he smiled. Wally's protective hand held Davie pressed against himself, whilst the other managed the willing horse with ease. As they drew closer, Norah noticed the perfect content on both faces. She found it difficult to express the pleasure she gained from watching the two, so very alike, gambol about with one another. The months of pain and anxiety when Wally had believed that Davie was lost to them forever had exacted a heavy toll on both parents. As firmly as Norah had held to her conviction that the small boy could not really have been lost to them in Ryan's Cove, she breathed a sigh of sublime happiness as the two curly, black heads bobbed in unison on a horse's back.

"Muvver," called Davie as they drew close, "it won't be long mine thinkit till I can ride'em this pony by mine self!"

Wally glanced solemnly down at his son. "I am glad to see you displaying such traces of assertiveness, young Davie." He glanced up with a twinkle at Norah. "Mother is far too domineering for her own good."

Norah, face placid, slipped off the fence rail and moved to stand beside them. One hand rested upon her husband's knee and she smiled upwards.

"It shan't be long at all, old son, if you pay good attention to what Dad says. He will teach you very well, and you will be the best stockman Billabong has ever seen."

Wally dismounted then, and retrieved Davie with a blithe smile. "I shall retire gracefully amidst your praise, young Norah. I'm quite dazzled—and rather concerned at the notion of living up to a reputation!"

Norah slipped her arm into his with a sly twinkle. "Never fear; I'm sure it shan't last long."

Yet another missing moment from the Billabong universe.

This one is specially dedicated to run with the doctor - Ally - who requested that I write this Billabong scene. I hope you like it!