There were seventeen officers in all riding in this race. The

race course was a large three-mile ring of the form of an ellipse

in front of the pavilion. On this course nine obstacles had been

arranged: the stream, a big and solid barrier five feet high,

just before the pavilion, a dry ditch, a ditch full of water, a

precipitous slope, an Irish barricade (one of the most difficult

obstacles, consisting of a mound fenced with brushwood, beyond

which was a ditch out of sight for the horses, so that the horse

had to clear both obstacles or might be killed); then two more

ditches filled with water, and one dry one; and the end of the

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race was just facing the pavilion. But the race began not in the

ring, but two hundred yards away from it, and in that part of the

course was the first obstacle, a dammed-up stream, seven feet in

breadth, which the racers could leap or wade through as they

preferred.

Three times they were ranged ready to start, but each time some

horse thrust itself out of line, and they had to begin again.

The umpire who was starting them, Colonel Sestrin, was beginning

to lose his temper, when at last for the fourth time he shouted

"Away!" and the racers started.

Every eye, every opera glass, was turned on the brightly colored

group of riders at the moment they were in line to start.

"They're off! They're starting!" was heard on all sides after

the hush of expectation.

And little groups and solitary figures among the public began

running from place to place to get a better view. In the very

first minute the close group of horsemen drew out, and it could

be seen that they were approaching the stream in twos and

threes and one behind another. To the spectators it seemed as

though they had all started simultaneously, but to the racers

there were seconds of difference that had great value to them.

Frou-Frou, excited and over-nervous, had lost the first moment,

and several horses had started before her, but before reaching

the stream, Vronsky, who was holding in the mare with all his

force as she tugged at the bridle, easily overtook three, and

there were left in front of him Mahotin's chestnut Gladiator,

whose hind-quarters were moving lightly and rhythmically up and

down exactly in front of Vronsky, and in front of all, the dainty

mare Diana bearing Kuzovlev more dead than alive.

For the first instant Vronsky was not master either of himself or

his mare. Up to the first obstacle, the stream, he could not

guide the motions of his mare.




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