Straight on Till Morning by Mary S. Lovell Page A

14 Buster Parnell explained that the horse was once frightened by pigs, had reared up and fallen over, damaging his spine. ‘He was never quite the same after that.’
    Arthur Orchardson had grown up with Beryl at Njoro, and had absorbed almost as much of the Clutterbuck equine magic touch as Beryl had. As well as being a good jockey (he won many East African classics), he was a first-class shot, and took a third prize at Bisley in the mid 1960s using the old 303 rifle. Arthur donned his boots and silks – and had his skull-cap tied on – before eleven o’clock. Then he walked nervously around the race course for hours before the race, and was stunned and delighted by his unexpected win. He bought a sports-model racing bike out of the proceeds.
    On the weekend after his Derby win, Anna and Buster Parnell passed Arthur on the main road and stopped to talk. He was cycling from Nairobi to Nakuru. Anyone who knows this road will be impressed, for it consists of a series of significant undulations and under the heat of the equatorial sun at heights of over six thousand feet, it was not a ride to be undertaken lightly at any age.
    Despite her owners’ complaints Beryl continued to run several horses together, and Buster Parnell particularly remembered one race. It was not a classic or even very important, but all races were important to Beryl. Buster was riding the favourite who had been backed down to four-to-one on; Tony Thomas, the second stable-jockey, was on a fifteen-to-one outsider. ‘Look,’ Buster said to Tony before the race, ‘your horse is only here today for the outing. Tuck him in behind the others and take him round. If you can get a place, let him go, but whatever you do, don’t pass me!’ As the field came round Cemetery Corner at the Ngong Forest course, Buster suddenly found Tony was up alongside him, sawing at his horse’s mouth. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he asked angrily.
    â€˜I can’t hold him.’
    â€˜Well he can’t win, you’ll bloody well have to hold him.’
    â€˜What can I do?’
    â€˜Fall off the bloody thing if you have to!’ Buster said, and kicked on hard to pass his colleague. As Buster flashed by the winning post, an empty horse shot past him – it was Tony’s mount. Buster looked around and asked the other jockeys if they’d seen Tony fall, but no one had seen anything. But retribution was just around the corner, for over the loud speaker system came the instruction, ‘Will Buster Parnell please report to the stewards.’
    Buster entered the room shaking like a leaf and looked around at the grim faces of the stewards, and then at Tony who was holding his head at an odd angle and gazing at Buster with mute appeal in his eyes.
    â€˜Parnell. I understand that as you came around Cemetery Corner you instructed Thomas to fall off his horse because he looked like overtaking you. Is that right?’
    Buster thought for a moment, then said, ‘Yes, m’lord.’
    There was an interested shuffling of bodies in the seats in front of him. ‘I see. Can you give us your reasons?’
    â€˜Well, my lord. It occurred to me that if the number one stable-jockey on a horse backed at four-to-one on was beaten by a horse from the same stable, ridden by the second jockey carrying odds of fifteen to one, the crowd might not to be too happy about it.’
    There was silence. Then, ‘Wait outside, Parnell. Thomas, you can go.’
    Ten minutes later the senior steward came out. ‘All right, Parnell, you can go. But tell Mrs Markham not to run two horses in the same race if there’s likely to be a repetition of this situation!’ Fortunately Beryl was amused when he told her.
    Her undisputed reign over the Kenya turf continued, and by the mid 1960s she had won the Kenya St Leger four times (including her win in 1926 with Wise Child) and the East African Derby five times.