On she flew, keeping the pace well, though two or three other horses had already outstripped her. The crowd had become silent, too full of wonder and interest to shout, and all eyes followed Aura, who was still a little behind the foremost riders.
And now, at the last round, according, as Sheshà explained, to the usual custom, the heralds raised their trumpets, and blew strong blasts to encourage the racers.
At the sound, pricking up her ears, Aura gathered herself together, and, with a flying leap, outdistanced the foremost horsemen, and amidst the deafening cries and applause of the spectators, was first to reach the goal!
Nor was this all. No sooner was the race at an end, than, throwing up her graceful head, she trotted to the daïs where the judges sat, and stood meekly before them.
“Oh, the darling lovely thing!” cried the children, incoherently, amidst the tumult. “She’s won! She’s won! The judges must say she’s won!”
And they did. In another moment the children saw two umpires leading Phidolas, unhurt, between them. Lightly he sprang upon the back of his mare, and as wild shouts rent the air, the judges placed the wreath of olives upon his close-cropped curly head, and proclaimed him and his horse joint victors.
After this wonderful thing had happened, it seemed almost impossible that there should be any greater excitement in store. Yet when, preceded by heralds blowing trumpets, the successful athletes marched round the stadium and the air rang with the shouting and applause of the multitude, it seemed that this, after all, was the greatest moment of the day. It was difficult to decide which of the two brothers, Phidolas or Agis, was received with the wildest enthusiasm. When Agis was crowned, the people roared their applause because of his youth (and, indeed, as he followed the heralds he looked a charming, but very little boy). And when Phidolas, in his turn, rode round the stadium, the people were again worked up to a frenzy of delight, and Aura, as though she knew that part of the applause was meant for her, stepped proudly, and arched her glossy neck, while her beautiful dark eyes thanked the people for praising her.
“Oh, won’t their father be proud!” exclaimed Rachel. “Fancy having two sons winning the olive wreath!”
“Will they have their statues put up in the sacred wood?” Diana asked.
“Yes—and there also will be the statue of the mare, Aura,” said Sheshà.