‘I couldn’t keep on, sergeant.’
‘Hold on by your teeth; your mouth’s big enough. Now, the squad, halt!’
The horses stopped so suddenly that two more luckless wights pitched over their horses’ heads and lay wallowing on the tan. More cutting remarks from the sergeant, then the squad again ‘stood to their horses,’ and were once more instructed in the method of mounting. This time poor Wilson made such a leap that he shot right over his horse’s back and fell off on the other side, roaring lustily.
‘You’re not in the gymnasium on the vaulting-horse,’ roared the sergeant. ‘Look up, man, or you’ll put in the whole of your twelve in the riding-school.’
Presently the men again got mounted and the ride went on. Jack, being light and agile, and his horse docile, managed very well, and soon began to feel confidence, remembering the old soldier’s words, not to ‘jar her mouth.’
In about an hour’s time the riding-master and a rather short but very broad officer, whom Jack afterwards learnt was Captain Norreys, entered the school, and the recruits were handled a little more gently.
Presently Captain Norreys and the riding-master, who had noticed how well Jack was getting on, came up to him, and the captain said kindly, ‘What is your name, my lad?’
‘John Blair, sir.’
‘Have you ridden before?’
‘On a pony once or twice, sir.’