The Disputed V.C.: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny Read online

  CHAPTER II

  An Exciting Day

  Every morning saw the boy thoroughly practising his mount, encouraged bythe owner, and at length the eventful day arrived.

  A large and gay crowd had gathered about the course, and included everywhite man and woman in the station, not to speak of the thousands ofSikhs, Punjabis, Afghans, and Hindus who had assembled to witness theEnglishman's sport. The 193rd Native Infantry had turned out inhundreds, keen on the victory of Markham Sahib's horse, and ready toapplaud until their voices gave out. There were officers in uniform andofficers without uniform; many coming from distant stations to witnessthe race, which was the most important in that part of the Punjab.Several of the British, and one or two of the native officers of theAhmednuggur Irregular Cavalry, had travelled down to back LieutenantHarrington. A wild-looking native officer of the Guides, who had come towatch Spencer Sahib win the cup, was pointed out by Jim as a celebratedrobber and cut-throat, Bahram Khan by name.

  "Rummy beggar is Bahram Khan!" declared the captain. "Dick Turpin was aninfant to him. Look how the Punjabis and Hindus are gazing at him, andhow he grins back--and then they begin to shiver."

  "Why? Are they afraid of him?"

  "Rather. I'll tell you who he is afterwards."

  "A pleasant type of man to have in one's regiment, Ted," was Ethel'scomment in a stage aside.

  "Disgusting!" was the laconic response.

  On the outskirts of the crowd several Pathan dealers were takingadvantage of the presence of so many lovers of horses to sell theirponies and country-bred steeds to the unwary. Nor were the inevitablejugglers and snake-charmers wanting. The fences were stiff, even to thelad who had hunted over the best country in Cheshire, and thewater-jumps were big, though no wider than some he had taken "The Padre"over during the past few days. The course was rather more than threemiles, the last six hundred yards being a straight run to thewinning-post.

  A native officer came out of the throng and caressed "The Padre".

  "Mind you win, Ensign Sahib," laughed Subadar Pir Baksh, "for the honourof the corps."

  "I will try my best, Subadar," Ted assured him; and Pir Baksh showed hiseven white teeth as he playfully threatened the ensign should he lose.

  "Now, old boy," was Ethel's greeting, "never speak to me again if our'Padre' loses--he's the horse of the regiment, you must remember.Whatever you do don't let that horrid Guide man win. An upstart corpslike that, recruited from Thugs and Dacoits, must never get the betterof the old-established 193rd."

  "'Horrid Guide man' indeed!" laughed Jim. "Spencer's one of the best menI know; and remember, my lady, that you will be a Guide woman verysoon."

  Changing the subject he added: "You're only fifth favourite, Ted."

  "Didn't know I was so high as that. Who's favourite?"

  "The 'horrible Guide' horse and the 'Duck's' mount, 'Flying Fox', areequal, the Ahmednuggur comes next, and you are fifth."

  "Never mind, Ted," said Ethel encouragingly. "'The Padre' was secondfavourite when it was thought that Markham would be up, and you'relighter than he."

  "But that won't make any difference; I shall have to carry the extraweight."

  "Oh, will you? That's not fair!"

  Jim laughed. "Go and talk to the handicapper, Ethel; use your wiles onthe innocent man and explain the unfairness! I intended to put a coupleof rupees, young 'un, on Spencer's 'Cabul' for the sake of the corps,but this tyrant has forbidden the transaction. Never get engaged, lad;you see what it's brought me to--I have to obey. She says that sheobjects to betting, but in reality she objects to my sticking up for myown regiment."

  "I'm ashamed of your relative, Ted," the girl asserted. "He's nobrotherly feeling. Fancy wanting to bet against your mount!"

  "It's just like him!" the ensign feelingly declared. "I don't understandhow anyone so dainty as you, Ethel, could stoop to such an Orson."

  Ethel blushed and Jim exploded.

  "Here, drop that, young 'un; you mustn't trespass on my preserves. Fancythe kid paying a compliment of that kind! Why, little woman, he told meabout ten days ago that you were 'a very ordinary sort of girl', andthat 'he didn't see much in you'."

  "Well, he's made up for it now. It was a very pretty compliment, Ted,and I thank you.... I often wonder myself."

  After the preliminary canter Ted brought his horse to the starting-post,where seven other competitors had already assembled. "The Padre" was notthe technical favourite, yet he was decidedly the most popular horsethere, for Captain Markham was better liked by the sepoys of the 193rdthan any of the officers, although Colonel Woodburn and several of theothers were highly popular with the men. The sepoys quite drowned allthe other noises of the crowd by their vociferous acclamations, and theyoung rider was the recipient of numerous encouraging remarks and heartygood-wishes from his brother officers and from the ladies of theAurungpore station.

  Lieutenant Spencer's black horse "Cabul" had now advanced to theposition of first favourite. "Cabul" was easily the best-looking horsepresent, as his rider was the most handsome and perfect horseman. Theofficer of the Guides Cavalry sat like a centaur, and our hero saw at aglance that he could not hope to compete in "noble horsemanship" withhis brother's comrade. The black, however, seemed nervous and fretful,and his shoulders were lightly flecked with foam. Bahram Khan, thefamous brigand chief, sat by Spencer's side before they prepared for thestart, soothing and caressing the noble beast as he talked earnestly toits rider.

  "He's a good horse," observed Markham, "but he's not perfect; hisshoulders can't compare with 'The Padre's', and I doubt whether he'squite so game, for mine enjoys it, and that's not common insteeple-chasing. You should beat him down the hill."

  Mr. Vernon's light chestnut was also a handsome animal, far more so thanthe lean gray of the Ahmednuggur Irregulars.

  The ensign's nerve was largely affected by the unwonted excitement as hereined his mount alongside the others; an indistinguishable mass ofwhite and brown humanity appeared to float before his eyes; and all heheard of the shouts and comments was a confused and distant murmuring,or rather buzzing. Mechanically he prepared for the start.

  The flag dropped, and the starter scurried to one side; "The Padre"leapt from under him and plunged away, the spectators seeming to swimpast. He shook off the trance and partially recovered hisself-possession. In front were Mr. Vernon's "Flying Fox", and anotherand darker chestnut. Aligned with him were the Ahmednuggur gray and abay; the remaining three were slightly to the rear, for the pace was onethat would soon tell.

  Miss Woodburn watched with much anxiety as they came to the first fence,and began to regret that she was responsible for inducing the boy totake part in the dangerous pastime. But "The Padre" went over like abird, and no one came to grief. The second and third obstacles were welltaken by the whole field, but the leading chestnut (the horse of acomrade) fell at the fourth and was out of it. At the next--awater-jump--the Ahmednuggur gray swerved and lost ground, and a momentlater the bay, who had got in front, carried away one of thehurdles--the easiest obstacle of the course. Ted was now calm enough totake all this in, and he became aware that he had only two horses tofear, "Cabul" and "Flying Fox". The black was now about a length behind,whilst the chestnut was almost as much in front of him.

  More than two miles had been covered before "Cabul" began to forgeslowly ahead of "The Padre", and to gain gradually on "Flying Fox", who,by his tail's convulsive twitching and his heaving flanks, was beginningto throw out signals of distress.

  Even at that exciting moment the boy could not but admire the strongseat, light firm hands, and splendid horsemanship of Lieutenant Spencer.They had approached a hedge side by side, and though "The Padre" wasgoing quite as well as, if not even better than "Cabul", the latterseemed to glide over the obstacle and was away on the other side a goodyard in front. The boy knew that the time was lost in collecting hishorse for the jump, and after landing on the other side, and as he feltconvinced that his mount was speedier and quicker on his legs thanS
pencer's, and had better shoulders for landing, he could not understandhow his rival managed to fly the fences with so little decrease in hisspeed and collect himself and get away on the other side without apause. And it seemed no effort!

  The last jump was taken by the black a length in front of the gray, whoin his turn had beaten the chestnut by nearly as much. No other horsewas within thirty yards of the leader. But whereas Spencer had drivenhis steed speedily at this wide water-jump, and had cleared it ingallant style, "The Padre" jumped slightly short, and though he quicklypulled himself together, he was now nearly two lengths behind. Still hewas going merrily and gamely, with any amount of spring and stay, andthe ensign recognized despairingly that he bestrode the swifter and moreclever horse, and was being beaten by his rival's horsemanship andsuperior judgment.

  And it is now a straight run to the judge's stand. Ted fancies to hisdelight that "Cabul" appears somewhat done, and his rider is undoubtedlyhaving to urge him along for the first time. But with Spencer--instriking contrast to the rider of the bay who came to grief at thesolitary line of hurdles--there is no flourishing of the whip, nonervous jerking of the reins: the officer of the Guides preserves hiscalm and impassive demeanour, for he understands his mount. In hisexcitement the boy speaks to "The Padre", and that willing beast seemsto comprehend and gallantly responds.

  From her horse's back, on a little mound near the judge's box, EthelWoodburn cranes forward eagerly. Yes, down the hill the gray is slowlygaining on the black!

  One hundred and fifty yards away and "The Padre's" head is level with"Cabul's" tail. They see Ted for the first time touch the horse lightlywith his heels, the spur pricking a handsbreadth behind the girths; acouple of quick strokes with the whip and the clever gray knows that thetime has come, and they see him bound forward. Eighty yards away andTed's knee is in line with "Cabul's" tail. The black is labouring hard,and under an ordinary rider would have given in, but Lieutenant Spenceris no ordinary rider.

  Two more strides and the riders are level, and amid a roar which breaksout on every side, and which the boy only hears as a distant murmur,"The Padre" wins by a neck.