"Yes," added Tom, storming up on the excited cob, "but I'm a couple of stone heavier than Mallender for one thing, and the brown plays cup and ball—and goes as he likes, with me!"
"Captain Mallender rides as well as Archie," admitted Tara, with a bright blush.
"Archie," echoed her brother, "is not in the same field—don't hit me, Tar! but," turning to Mallender, "I expect you have been used to horses all your life?"
"Yes; and I've hunted, and played a good deal of polo."
"And ridden races, I'll bet?"
"Only regimental," was the modest reply.
"Poor Tar, what a chance you had!" jeered her brother. "Now let us get away into the open country."
"Then you don't call this open?" questioned the stranger.
"Oh, no, wait till you see the real plains."
In a short time the trio were cantering over the coarse hard grass, through scrubby jungle, past great red boulders, across sandy river-beds, and dry water-courses, occasionally avoiding a yawning nullah, that looked as if it opened into the very bowels of the earth. Once, on a flat rock, they descried a large bright green snake coiled up asleep. Once, they skirted a shrine, where a worshipper had just sacrificed a kid to "Kali." Tara it was who led the way, skimming along, on her light-footed Arab, riding with a certain wild grace, but it was not the same horsewomanship as exhibited by Barbie Miller—that was a masterful, and finished performance!