Chapter 3. Rope Tricks

 ‘So Samwise Gamgee won’t be going for Mayor a second time?’ old Ferdinand said in between bites of rabbit stew. ‘It’s a bit hot, yet, Ferdi,’ he added.

Ferdibrand took care to blow on the next spoonful a little longer, touching the bowl of the spoon to his own bottom lip for good measure, before transferring the contents to his father’s mouth. ‘Is that better?’ he asked.

 ‘Much,’ the old hobbit said with his mouth full, nodding for emphasis. There was a moment of silence while he savoured the flavourful meat, the bits of vegetable and the rich gravy, before he swallowed and spoke again. ‘I cannot say I blame him, gardener’s youngest lad as he was, and likely not right in the head to have gone off into the Wilderland.’

 ‘He was following his master,’ Ferdi protested, after cooling another spoonful.

Old Ferdinand chewed and nodded thoughtfully, then said, ‘Loyalty is one thing, but foolishness another. How did anyone with the name Samwise get elected Mayor, anyhow? Is he not some sort of half-wit?’

 ‘He is not,’ Ferdi said. ‘And he was elected for many reasons, one of which was he made the Shire bloom again after the ruffians did their best to ruin things.’ His father had not seen the wanton destruction wrought by Sharkey’s Men, but Ferdi had. Trees cut down and left to rot, old well-built buildings pulled down and ramshackle eyesores erected, trash piled everywhere, streams fouled and noisome smokes sent into the fresh, clean air.

Ferdinand moved restlessly in his chair and Ferdi put down bowl and spoon to ease him. ‘That’s better,’ the old hobbit said. When Ferdi picked up the bowl again, his father shook his head, saying, ‘A mug of tea is all I’d want now.’

Ferdi fixed the tea to his father’s liking, and another mug for himself, and they sipped companionably. ‘What other things?’ Ferdinand said at last.

 ‘Eh?’ Ferdi said, confused.

 ‘What other things was he elected Mayor for?’

 ‘Ah,’ Ferdi said, sitting back. ‘Well now, let me see. He was one of the Travellers, you know.’

 ‘O aye,’ Ferdibrand said impatiently. ‘Went off into foreign parts to fight in some sort of War that had naught to do with Shirefolk. He’d have done better to stay by his own hearth.’

 ‘Well he helped to throw the ruffians out,’ Ferdi said.

His father eyed him sceptically. ‘I thought you did that, you and the rest of the Tooks. You near gave your life in that Battle at Bywater.’

 ‘So I did,’ Ferdi said. ‘But he was a part of it, and he was with Frodo Baggins when they turned out that Sharkey fellow.’

 ‘Murdered him, wasn’t it?’ Ferdinand said.

 ‘No, ‘twas one of his own did that,’ Ferdi replied. ‘And then Frodo Baggins became deputy Mayor and sent all those extra Shirriffs back to what they ought to have been doing, and got the Post back to running, whilst Samwise travelled about planting trees and such. I think Frodo spoke to Mayor Will about Samwise, before he left.’

 ‘Sailed away,’ Ferdinand said, shaking his head censoriously. ‘Never came back, neither. Hobbits don’t belong on ships.’ He cocked his head at his son, and if he’d not lost his hands in that stable fire he’d have shaken a finger at Ferdi. ‘Let that be a lesson to you.’

 ‘You won’t find me anywhere near a boat, nor a ship,’ Ferdi said. ‘A pony, now, that’s all I care to ride aboard.’

They talked then of the new stallion, and old Ferdinand reminisced about the old days, when he’d been one of the best-known pony trainers in the Shire. He and his brother had travelled to all four Farthings in answer to requests for aid, and he’d pocketed a pretty penny dealing with “impossible” ponies. Ferdi listened, nodding and remembering. He’d watched and learned much in his early years, before the terrible fire claimed his uncle and maimed his father, throwing Ferdinand and his son on “the charity of the Thain” for years afterwards. A part of Ferdi’s wages now paid his father’s way, and he was that grateful that his father no longer had to live as a beggar, on sufferance.

 ‘And Penny, d’you think she might do well in the Pony Races?’ Ferdinand said. The Tookland Pony Races were less than a month away, on the first of June, and the All-Shire Race for the top two ponies from each Farthing would take place in Michel Delving a month after, at the Lithedays Faire. It would be a bigger event than usual this year, what with this being an election year. Ferdi wondered who would be Mayor next, should Samwise remain firm in his resolve not to go again for Mayor.

His father cleared his throat, bringing him back to the conversation of the moment. What was it? Penny’s chances in the Pony Races...

‘She might beat the best that Tookland has to offer,’ Ferdi said slowly, ‘sired by Socks as she was, and out of Dapple. But I don’t know that she could beat Buckland’s offering in Michel Delving at Lithe.’ That stallion now, the one that came from Rohan... He’d lay down a week’s wages on that pony against anything the Brandybucks might put up, were the beast only manageable. If someone could make the stallion see reason, and ride him to win in the All-Shire Race, ah now, that would be something.

 ‘You thinking of managing him?’ Ferdinand said, looking sharply at his son, and Ferdi realised belatedly that he'd spoken his thoughts aloud.

 ‘There’d be a fat purse if he won the Litheday Race,’ Ferdi answered. ‘But no one’s trying to manage him. They’re all too busy working the other ponies.’ He continued to think over the problem. The Thain would get the stud fees resulting from the stallion’s win, but the rider would get half the purse, as custom... enough, perhaps, to buy another pony to add to Ferdi’s string.

 ‘Well don’t break your neck,’ Ferdinand snapped, but then he grinned suddenly. ‘By all that’s green,’ he said, ‘by all that’s green and growing, it would be something to beat the best of Buckland.’

***

Next morning Ferdi settled himself on an upturned bucket just outside the stallion’s enclosure. The creature snorted and kicked at shadows, but the head of escort paid him no mind, absorbed as he was in braiding a new set of reins for Dapple’s bridle. Eventually the stallion stopped his skittering and ambled over to see what Ferdi was doing.

 ‘Well hullo there,’ Ferdi said conversationally. The pony jerked away, laying back his ears, but as Ferdi paid him no further heed he stuck his head over the fence again to watch the busy fingers, his ears switching back and forth to catch the occasional comment. Truth be told he was bored, stuck in this barely adequate pen by himself, with no one for company and nothing exciting happening save the hay forked over the fence twice a day. There wasn’t a proper paddock for him to run in at the moment, and wouldn’t be until after the Pony Sale that would take place during the annual Tookland Races.

The Thain had no errands that day, and so the stallion got quite used to Ferdi’s company. In the afternoon, Ferdi got up and went into the stables, coming back with an apple, which he proceeded to bite into with obvious enjoyment. The pony pricked his ears at this, his nostrils widening as he snuffled greedily.

 ‘Nice and juicy,’ Ferdi said. The ears went back and he turned away from the pony, taking another bite, chewing with exaggerated pleasure. The ears came forward, the head lowered a bit and he turned back. ‘You want some?’ When the head came up, he turned away again. The pony lowered his head once more and Ferdi held out a bit of apple on his palm. The pony lipped the treat.

 ‘So you have him eating out of your hand,’ Hilly said, startling the two of them. He’d been watching quietly for some time, and now as the pony threw up his head, rolled his eyes, and whirled away he apologised. ‘I’m sorry, Ferdi,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realise...’

 ‘No harm done,’ Ferdibrand said easily. ‘He’s got to get used to people eventually.’

He shared another apple with the stallion the next morning, and then climbed through the fence with a rope in his hand. Most of the Tooks were eating early breakfast, if they were up at all, and so he had a good bit of time when they ought not to be disturbed. He used the rope, tossing it towards the pony’s hindquarters, to push the stallion in the direction he wanted the beast to go, keeping him moving, keeping him guessing, never giving him time to think... it wasn’t long before he had the pony turning when he told him to turn, stopping, listening, watching for direction rather than opportunity.

When they came to a good stopping place, he said a few quiet words of praise and climbed out of the ring, finding Old Tom standing and watching. ‘Where’d you learn to do that?’ the head of the stables asked, walking with him back towards the stable entrance. ‘I’ve never seen aught like it.’

 ‘It was something my father used to do,’ Ferdi said. ‘He and my uncle, they had a way with ponies.’

 ‘I believe it,’ Old Tom said slowly. ‘Though I wouldn’t have thought it possible, not with that’un.’

 ‘He’s not a bad sort,’ Ferdi said. He hung the rope on its hook and stretched. He was famished. ‘Just needed to get his attention, is all.’ He nodded to Old Tom. ‘If the Thain rides out I’ll be using Dapple this day. Turn Penny out.’

 ‘I’ll do that,’ Old Tom said with a nod of his own. He continued to stare after Ferdi as the head of escort crossed the yard to the Great Smials in search of breakfast. ‘I’d never have believed it,’ he muttered again. ‘Never touched the rope to the beast at all, and yet...’

***
Thanks to Sulriel at HASA for generous help with horse behaviour and training, and to Gypsum and Cheryl for their helpful comments in answer to my questions. If you do a search on the web for "round-penning" and "natural horsemanship" you will find more information on the techniques briefly described in this chapter.