‘I suppose this is an interesting race to you, Maclean?’
‘Decidedly so—in fact I came home a month earlier chiefly to see it run. Glendon Spencer is a great friend of mine, and I knew not only Moifaa, but his dam, Denbigh—a magnificent animal, and a winner of steeplechases in her day—not unimportant ones either.’
‘I heard that you backed him heavily.’
‘Well, fairly so. I took thirty to one, in hundreds, from Joe Johnson. Being early in the market, I got a shade more of the odds. I am not a betting man, generally; but in this case I felt confident, and stood to lose a trifle, or win enough to pay my travelling expenses, and something over.’
‘You colonists are a demoralising lot, it must be admitted. Fancy the example to me dear friend Reggie Banneret, and his brother—poor innocent Eric! Think of it now! rushing over the South Pacific to see a race run, and within a few months clearing back again, with £3000 in your pocket.’
‘If the old horse stands up. It’s rather a big “if,” isn’t it? But I’ll trust my luck this time. It’s not the first time I’ve backed him. I saw him win the Great Northern Steeplechase in Auckland, [284] ]three miles and a half, with eleven stone twelve up, as well as the Hawkes Bay Hurdle Race, carrying twelve stone. He was taken to England, with the idea of winning this race; and I believe he will win it. Isn’t that the bell? What a string, to be sure! Twenty-six coloured for the race. What horses—what people—what a sight! Old England for ever! God save the King! Here comes His Majesty’s Ambush II. looking his very best, and Anthony, no less, the proudest jock in Britain this day.’
Here they all start for the preliminary canter—what a cheer from the assembled thousands! Now they are paraded. No time lost at the start. They are off—off! A deep, wordless hum succeeds, like the surge voice of a lately aroused ocean, still reminiscent of storm and tempest, though now the wave and wind be still. ‘Look! Pride of Maberton, Loch Lomond, and Inquisitor are away, followed by Railoff, who falls at the first fence. Ambush II. is down at the next.’ Alas! The girls are so sorry—not that they wished him to win, but to have been among the gallant few that fought it out to the end. Deerslayer goes on from The Gunner, and Loch Lomond, and half a dozen others, amongst whom, going steadily, are Moifaa, Detail, and Manifesto.
Deerslayer continues to lead over Valentine’s Brook, the next to come down is May King, after which Honeymoon and Old Town fail to clear the dry ditch. Now the excitement becomes intense!
‘Oh, look!’ cries Vanda, ‘at Moifaa. How he is coming up! Well done the Maori! [285] ]Aké—Aké—Aké! He has passed Deerslayer—The Gunner and Kirkland are next, with Nahilla, and a lot of others behind. Look at that gallant old Manifesto! How easily he takes his jumps!’
‘Becker’s Brook—doesn’t Nimrod mention it somewhere?’ said Hermione. ‘Oh, poor Deerslayer is down!—the slayer among the slain. Fortune of war.’