78 Indian Racing Reminiscences. 



and third lottery, though he got him fairly cheap in 

 the first one. I felt sick at heart on learning the state 

 of affairs when I arrived at Meerut, a couple of da}'s 

 after the horses. The jockey whom we had engaged 

 to ride Caliph was a very promising Australian lad, by 

 name Cook. Caliph was a peculiar horse to steer, and 

 had a natural and, perhaps, not very uncommon idiosyn- 

 crasy which I subsequently understood, though I was 

 utterly ignorant of it when he first came into my hands. 

 He was one of the gamest and most generous horses 

 that ever breathed if he was allowed to make his own 

 running ; but if his jockey interfered with him, and 

 wanted to make him adopt tactics which were not after 

 Caliph's own heart, he would stop galloping ; not from 

 sulkiness, but simply because he had no other means 

 of saying to the stupid man on his back, " I know 

 better than you how to play my own game, and if you 

 don't let me play it my own way I won't play at all." 

 When the race came off Cook caught Caliph " by the 

 head," and began to bustle him along, as the Galloway 

 was a slow starter. He thereupon began to charge his 

 leg, went slower and slower, and finally shut up like the 

 proverbial scissors. His running was so bad that he 

 got favourably weighted in the next day's handicap, 



