Page:Wildwildheart00reesiala.pdf/104

A stream of traffic—cars, men on horseback, a few odd buggies, and Maoris from a nearby path on foot—were now approaching the gate leading into the big wire-fenced paddock in which lay the racecourse. A rough little stand, with totalisator shed, stewards’ room, and saddling paddock beside it, overlooked the judge’s box and winning-post; but in the center of the course, where all the cars and other vehicles were parked, rushes and briars grew, and coarse tussocky grass.

Holmes drew up amongst the other cars; and within a few minutes Waring and Vera joined them. The Staffords, Ralstons and many of those who attended the polo practice matches had already arrived, so that Ann and Vera were soon members of a large group, all extremely well-known to one another. It was quite like a family party of forty or fifty, and Ann was one of the few who was not addressed by her baptismal name. It was all very friendly and jolly, she thought. The sun shone, the larks sang over the green hills, pink flowering briars nodded in the warm wind, and the gay colors of the jockeys, the crude, vivid dresses of the Maori women, and the smarter attire and bright parasols of the sheep-farmers’ wives, made a moving kaleidoscope of color. The women were “making-up” tickets for the totalisator—only a few were bold enough to invest the full amount of one pound. For the most part they betted in five-shilling or half-crown shares. Ann had half a crown on the first race, and lost. But it made the race more exciting to have a monetary interest in it. After that they had lunch, every one bringing sandwiches, cake, fruit, and drinkables from the cars and pooling them.