178 Indian Racing Reminiscences. 



The race being such a foregone conclusion, I took so 

 little interest in it that I forget who won. 



All this time I have left Mr. Short lying on the 

 ground at Cawnpore. I took him home with me to our 

 mess-house, where I had quarters. The poor fellow had 

 a very bad time of it, but his brave spirit kept him from 

 uttering a murmur or giving a sign of the pain that was 

 racking him, on account of one of the fractured ribs 

 pressing against his lungs. While we were watching 

 over him one night, some one whispered sadly to 

 another : " Poor fellow ; I don't think he will pull 

 through." " I'll bet you a hundred rupees I do," gasped 

 the undaunted Bertie. In a month he was nearly all 

 right again, and then went up to Dehra Doon. 



At the end of this year (1874), Captain Papillon, who 

 was one of the hardest men to beat I have ever met, 

 left India and quitted the saddling enclosure for ever, 

 A mutual friend was travelling in the far north of 

 Scotland with a resident of those parts, in February, 

 1 88 1, during the time that great fall of snow covered 

 Great Britain, and even suspended the railway traffic on 

 the Great Western, so we may imagine what it must 

 have been in the Highlands. The two companions, 

 •after a terrible climb up the side of a mountain, gained 



