22 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



has a better title to his name from his capabilities than from 

 his appearance. 



Nor is the course itself much more akin to that of Rugby, 

 still less of Liverpool, than is the Indian chaser to his English 

 confrere. A solid mud wall, or rather bank, over four feet 

 high, is nothing much for a hunter to jump, but it is scarcely, 

 one would suppose, adapted for a cluster of ten horses to race 

 over almost at the start. The next jump, however, is pleasanter 

 at a racing pace than at cooler speed, being a bank of the same 

 height, but five feet broad on the top, and with a ditch on 

 either side. Sixteen feet of clear water forms the next obstacle, 

 and it may be given as no small proof of the jumping powers of 

 the Australian that in the steeplechase in question not a horse 

 fell or refused at any one of these three. Still, I would urge, 

 courses of this description are in themselves sufficient to account 

 for the comparative ill-success of steeple-chasing in India. You 

 never ride over such country under other conditions ; conse- 

 quently but few horses are really taught to jump. Owners are 

 afraid to risk valuable horses when a jostle may entail a broken 

 back ; and small fields and a lamentable scarcity of cross- 

 country jockeys (for you can't afford to fall in India as fre- 

 quently as on the soft turf at home) are the almost invariable 

 result. 



But it is now past seven o'clock ; the sun is hinting none too 

 delicately that we are in the tropics and not at Newmarket ; 

 the Prince visits some of the leading favourites in their stables, 

 chats for a time under the shelter of the stand, where Madras 

 turfites are now indulging in coffee ; and when he moves off the 

 assemblage breaks up. 



I may pass on to another and equally congenial task, and tell 

 how the Prince and his staff went hunting the jackal. But 

 prithee, gentle reader, let me first turn aside but a brief space 

 to touch upon one or two other incidents of this week of 

 tumultuous festivity. 



Of all the grand doings that convulsed and fluttered Madras, 

 was not the Club Ball the greatest, the most fondly anticipated 



