“A good miss, Nic,” said his father.
“Didn’t I hit it, father?”
“No, my boy—not with a single shot, even. But you see your horse did not move.”
“I forgot all about that,” said Nic. “I suppose that was a kangaroo, father?”
“No doubt about that, Nic. They can go pretty well, eh?”
“Tremendously. But what an enormous tail!”
“Yes, it seems to act like a balance and a support when they land, for they go almost entirely upon their hind legs. But I meant you to have tried for a shot farther on, where there is a bit of river and some low damp ground. You might perhaps have secured a goose for our supper, or had a shot at one of the snakes, which like the moisture. But come: here’s a good open stretch of land. Let’s have our trot. Keep your heels down, sit fairly well up, and don’t think about falling. If you do come off, it is a very little way to go, and the horse’s pace will take him clear of you. Now then, turn those stirrups over his back.”
“Oh, father! let me keep my stirrups.”
“Certainly not; they would not help you a bit, only prove a danger to a novice; and remember this: once you can ride without stirrups you can ride with. Ready?”
Nic reluctantly turned the stirrup leathers across.