"Quite unnecessary!" said Bindabun. "My mare is not such a weakling as you imagine, and will be as fit as a flea after she has imbibed one or two champagne bottles."
And his prediction was literally fulfilled, for the champagne soon rendered Milky Way playful as a kitten. Mr Bhosh ascended into his saddle; the other horses were drawn up in single rank; the starter brandished his flag—and the curtain rose on such a race as has, perhaps, never been equalled in the annals of the Derby.
The rival cracks were named as follows:——Topsy Turvey, Poojah, Brandy Pawnee, Tiffin Bell, Tripod, Cui Bono, British Jurisprudence and Roseate Smell. The betting was even on the field.
Poojah was a large tall horse with a nude tail, but excessively nimble; Tripod, on the contrary, was a small cob of sluggish habits and needing to be constantly pricked; Tiffin Bell was a piebald of goodly proportions; and Roseate Smell was of same sex as Milky Way, though more vixenish in character.
Not long after the start Mr Bhosh was chagrined to discover that he was all behindhand, and he almost despaired of overtaking any of his fore-runners. Moreover, he was already oppressed by painful soreness, due to so constantly coming in contact with the saddle during his ride from London—but "in for a penny, in for a pound of flesh," and he plodded on, and soon had the good luck to recapture some of his lost ground.
It was the old fabulous anecdote of the Hare and the Tortoise. First of all, Topsy Turvey was tripped up by a rabbit's hole; then Roseate Smell leaped the barrier and joined the spectators, while Tripod sprained his offside ankle. Gradually Mr Bhosh passed Brandy Pawnee, Cui Bono, and British Jurisprudence, until, on arriving at Tottenham Court Corner, only Tiffin Bell and Poojah remained in the running.
Tiffin Bell became so discouraged by the near approach of Milky Way that he dwindled his pace to a paltry trot, so Mr Bhosh was easily enabled to defeat him, after which by Cyclopean efforts he urged his mare until she and Poojah were cheek by jowl.
For some time it was the dingdong race between a hammer and tongs!
Still, as the quadrupeds ploughed their way on, Poojah churlishly refused to give place aux dames, and Milky Way began to drop to the rear. Seeing that she was utterly incompetent to accelerate her speed and therefore in imminent danger of being defeated, Chunder Bindabun had the happy inspiration to make an appeal to the best feelings of the rival jockey, whose name was Juggins.
"Juggins!" he wheezed in an agonised whisper, "I am a poor native Indian, totally unpractised in Derby riding. Show me some magnanimous action, and allow Milky Way to take first prize, Juggins!"