BOB HAMILTON'S MAIDEN RACE. 125 



hold fast to the saddle, if necessary. He knows better what 

 to do than you do, and if you leave it to him and stop in the 

 saddle he'll pull you through/ " 



" What sort of a gee was Limerick ? " asked Boucheret, as 

 the Major paused for a drink. 



" Big bay, sixteen hands, practically thoroughbred, and a 

 good hunter. Not fast enough for a 'chaser, though," replied 

 Hamilton. 



" And The Camel ? " 



"An ugly liver-coloured thoroughbred chesnut, 16-1, 

 capped hocks, good shoulders, and galloping quarters. 



" The flag dropped and we were off. Limerick cut out 

 the work, and The Camel went sailing away with an easy 

 stride a length behind him. At the first fence I forgot to 

 catch hold of the saddle, and nearly fell off. Hodgson thought 

 I was off, and seemed a trifle disappointed. But the next and 

 the next were safely left behind, for I let The Camel have his 

 head, sat well back, and took a tight hold of the saddle. The 

 first time past the stand Limerick was still a length or two to 

 the good, and both horses had been fencing faultlessly. A 

 mile from home, and I began to feel a bit blown ; my seat in 

 the saddle, too, was even less secure than it had been. Three 

 fences from home, and oh ! rapture ! down comes Limerick. 

 Then at the next fence, lost in my pride, off I tipple, too. 

 Luckily I kept hold of the reins and the good old horse after 

 dragging me a little distance, pulled up and stood like a cow 

 while I remounted with difficulty. But Hodgson had re- 

 mounted too, and we jumped the last fence side by side. 

 Once more in my exhausted state I nearly tumbled off. Then 

 the old horse woke into life, shot away from Limerick Hke an 

 arrow from a bow, and with his rider hanging in a limp con- 

 condition with both arms clasped round his neck, passed the 

 winning post three lengths to the good ; then he stopped 

 suddenly, and his burden fell to the earth. 



