Thundering Hooves And White Pegs

• Cheyne Twist, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2009

Belinda breathed deeply. She could hear the announcer over the loud speaker. She turned her attention to the steer that was trying to outrun her stock horse, Barney. They were in the cut out, and Belinda had already spotted the weaner she was going to target. She and the horse swivelled back and forth, blocking the mob from escaping their clutches. And then came the break. Her steer broke away from the pack, and bolted out of the yard, Barney and Belinda close in pursuit.
They neared the first peg, bounding across the arena. The muscular legs of the gelding stretched further every stride he took and his breathing quickened. In one swift motion, the duo moved to the outside of the steer and guided it around the peg and continued on around the course. The steer moved faster and Belinda could feel Barney taking head, but she pulled him back. They couldn’t blow their chances now, they were so close! Nearing the second peg, Barney’s roan coat was glistening with sweat and his eyes were tuned only to the minute cream animal that darted at extreme speed in front of them. His legs trudged through the sand that by now had stuck to his perspiration-covered legs and his usually clipped mane, just long enough to annoy, was flicked up by the wind. They were only metres away from the second peg and expertly Belinda pulled on the reins to instruct the young horse and stubborn steer around the peg. Barney suddenly sensed the last peg and pricked his ears forward excitedly. “STEADY! We’re not finished yet!” Belinda warned her vibrant gelding.
Out of the blue, the creamy steer jumped out of the beeline they were travelling in and bolted for the fence in a desperate attempt to get out of this traumatic experience. Barney, confused by the animals’ sudden move, quickly followed what he was trained to do. He edged around to the outside of the cranky steer, and guided him back to the route that led to the final peg before the finishing gate. The peg neared closer, closer, closer and Belinda could sense the tunnel vision that she got every time she neared the finish of anything. Suddenly her eyes felt tired. She needed to close them for a little bit, just a tiny bit of time. She could feel Barney realize that it was up to him to finish the next turn around the peg off and the next thing she saw was the finish line a metre in front of them. The announcer’s voice again made itself heard. “BELINDA AISTHORPE. 2009 LADIES CAMPDRAFT CHAMPION ON HER AMAZING HORSE BARNEY BLUES, CONGRATULATIONS!”
She looked at the weaner that she had just taken around the course. All the hatred that it had been carrying disappeared. “Thank-you Barney. I love you” Belinda cooed to her favourite horse in the world.