Our annual Race Meet is the one great occasion of the year when all the
dwellers in the district meet. Our races in Chumparun generally took
place some time about Christmas. Long before the date fixed on,
arrangements would be made for the exercise of hearty hospitality. The
residents in the 'station' ask as many guests as will fill their
houses, and their 'compounds' are crowded with tents, each holding a
number of visitors, generally bachelors. The principal managers of the
factories in the district, with their assistants, form a mess for the
racing week, and, not unfrequently, one or two ladies lend their
refining presence to the several camps. Friends from other districts,
from up country, from Calcutta, gather together; and as the weather is
bracing and cool, and every one determined to enjoy himself, the meet
is one of the pleasantest of reunions. There are always several races
specially got up for assistants' horses, and long before, the
youngsters are up in the early morning, giving their favourite nag a
spin across the zeraats, or seeing the groom lead him out swathed in
clothing and bandages, to get him into training for the Assistants'
race.

As the day draws near, great cases of tinned meats, hampers of beer and
wine, and goodly supplies of all sorts are sent into the station to the
various camps. Tents of snowy white canvas begin to peep out at you
from among the trees. Great oblong booths of blue indigo sheeting show
where the temporary stables for the horses are being erected; and at
night the glittering of innumerable camp-fires betokens the presence of
a whole army of grooms, grass-cutters, peons, watchmen, and other
servants cooking their evening meal of rice, and discussing the chances
of the horses of their respective masters in the approaching races. On
the day before the first racing, the planters are up early, and in