# The Dilemma/Chapter X

CHAPTER X.
The coming steeplechase was a novelty imported for the first time into the Mustaphabad annual race-meeting. That favourite station being situated in a sandy plain which extended in perfect flatness for many days' journey in every direction, covered at one season of the year with luxuriant corn in fields quite unenclosed, and separated by marks distinguishable only by the villagers, and for the rest a sandy desert dotted with villages and thinly sprinkled with acacia-trees — a country of this sort was not favourable for the development of hunting, and had witnessed hitherto no more lively sport than coursing. The race had been got up indeed mainly at the instance of a couple of sporting subalterns in another native-infantry regiment, joint proprietors of an aged Australian mare, known to be sure at her fences if her legs would only hold out; and it was to come off as the final event of the second day's meeting, Colonel Tartar having offered a cup for the winner in addition to the stakes.
The entries were comparatively numerous, considering that not many horses at the station had ever had the opportunity of being put at a jump, and that a rumour that Colonel Falkland meant to run his Irish mare had kept out several intending competitors, as nothing would have had a chance against her. And when the entries were closed, at the race-ordinary held at the subscription-rooms the evening before the meeting, no less than six entries were declared for this particular event. Lunge, the riding-master of the hussars, had entered an old Cape horse reputed to have been good with the Meerut fox-hounds; Stride, of the horse artillery, a stud-bred horse, his second charger; Chupkin, of the irregulars, a country-bred mare, usually ridden by his wife — if Mrs. Chupkin would ride it herself, said the knowing ones, she would be sure to win — a feather-weight, and with nerve for anything; young Scurry, the moneyed man of the hussars, a newly-purchased chestnut Arab, the handsomest charger in the regiment, but a trifle impetuous; the confederates, Messrs. Egan and M'Intyre of the 80th N.I., the Australian mare above referred to, which had arrived mysteriously at the station a few days before; the list being closed by a friend's horse.
Yorke had never been present at a race-ordinary before, his experience having been confined hitherto to what are known as single-corps stations, garrisoned by one regiment of native infantry, where race-meetings were unknown; and he felt a little nervous as he entered the barnlike assembly rooms where the meeting was held, with fifty rupees in his pocket for the entrance-stakes. His announcement evidently took the company by surprise; for although the hurdles in his compound told a tale to his neighbours, his recent purchase had not attracted much attention, and the fact of his ownership of a horse of any sort was not generally known. "It's not a tattoo race, young man," observed M'Intyre, who was standing by the little table at which Westropp of the irregulars, the honorary secretary, was recording the entries; "ain't you making a mistake?"
"There's nothing against tats in the rules," said Westropp, before Yorke had time to speak; "you may enter a donkey if you like, M'Intyre; "whereat the laugh was turned against M'Intyre, and Yorke felt grateful to Westropp for coming to ​his help before a suitable repartee had occurred to himself.
The entries concluded, the company sat down to dinner, after which they proceeded to the lotteries, the serious business of the evening. Several other officers now dropped in, among them Colonel Tartar, with whose dignity it was hardly compatible to partake of a race-ordinary, but who patronized the races in an affable way, as became a man with a reputation in the shires and noted lightweight rider in his younger days, and indeed was not above employing the evening in making a little book. "How do, Yorke?" said the little colonel with a friendly nod; "so you have got something in for my cup. I suppose that's the little horse Falkland was speaking about — a tidy jumper, he tells me; well, I wish you all luck, but I am afraid I sha'n't be able to back you this time."
Proceedings were interrupted at first by an objection lodged against the confederates' horse, it being a condition that all horses entered for the cup should be bonâ fide the property of officers at the station; while the known impecunious state of the partners, whose domestic embarrassments in connection with the local shopkeepers constituted the principal business at the monthly sittings of the cantonment small-cause court, rendered it matter of question how they should have come by such a property. The production of their entrance-money in hard cash had indeed occasioned some little surprise; but the objection was disposed of on Egan's producing a letter from the late owner accepting the joint promissory note of himself and M'Intyre at six months' date, for a sum, the amount of which was concealed from the referee by a dirty thumb placed over the figures, whereon the company proceeded to make out the lotteries. The drawing of these, with the interpolated betting, occupied a considerable time, Egan and M'Intyre both going into the work like millionaires; while it was observable that, notwithstanding the doubt previously thrown upon their credit, no one declined to bet with these gentlemen, even Colonel Tartar booking more than one transaction of the kind. The steeplechase lottery came last. It was the only one to which Yorke subscribed, and as there were fifty lots and only six horses, it was not surprising that he drew a blank. In the auction which followed the drawing. Scurry's horse was clearly declared the favourite, being bought in by the owner for thirty gold mohurs, while Lunge's fetched only fifteen; the confederates' mare was purchased by her owners for ten, and Yorke's horse by Colonel Tartar for five. "Can't do much harm by losing twenty chicks," observed the colonel, in Anglo-Indian argot, as the lot was knocked down to him; "and after all, there is a good deal of uncertainty about steeple-chasing."