We were not horsey folks ourselves, but our neighbors in Delhi, the Ensmingers, kept three horses, and allowed us to ride them.

I was very enthusiastic for a while, and I usually rode a large and phlegmatic creature called Shah.

Photo credit: Colby-Sawyer College Archives

With the Ensminger kids, we tried to use him in one of our theatrical performances.  We staged the play in the driveway so that one of us could jump on him and dash off, crying “Hi-yo, Silver!” Unfortunately, Shah would not be induced to gallop that day, or even trot, but plodded away at his own sweet pace.

Later, I got spooked after a nerve-wracking ride on one of the other horses, when it decided it would prefer not to have me on its back and bucked for what seemed like an eternity. I stuck to the saddle in grim determination and terror. Afterwards, I considered it a victory to have dismounted alive and was proud of myself, but not proud enough to repeat the experiment.

Lee doesn’t look too happy, either, on vacation (c. 1958) in Mussoorie, where we sometimes rented ponies.

Photo credit: Woodman Family Collection

All other things being equal, we preferred to have the horse out in front, at a safe remove, as in this excursion (c. 1956) in Delhi in a horse-drawn tonga:

Photo credit: Woodman Family Collection

Lee, Betsy, my mother holding Jane.