AMBUNTEN, Indonesia, Aug 24, Reuter - Fifty eggs, coffee with no sugar, a dose of medicinal herbs and Madura's bulls are ready to go. And go they do, at 40 kilometres (25 miles) per hour.

Bull racing has become a grand ritual in this island off northwest Java, bringing champions glory and high price-tags.

The origins of the tradition were soundly pragmatic.

Local lore has it that a seventeenth century king trying to bump up agricultural production began ploughing races to get things moving in the fields.

Now, as two pairs of bulls bolt from the start and career at breakneck speed across a 100 metre (yard) field, they drag a brightly-painted ornamental plough behind them.

Balanced precariously atop, with padded shins looped through a brace, young jockeys urge their beasts on with bloodcurdling yells, flaying them with spiked metal whips.

Excited crowds let rip with their own roars as the racers flash past in a cloud of dust.

There is no finish line, and the boys fling themselves onto the bulls' necks in the hope of slowing them down before they crash up the steep bank at the end of the field.

Panting back across the field after the race with bloodied haunches, the bulls look less than noble.

But before the race, when they are paraded draped in finery, gilded horns held proudly high and followed by an admiring band of musicians playing gongs, drums, and pipes, they are nothing short of glorious.

As the races became institutionalised, exceptional care and careful breeding in search of champions gave Madura's honey- brown cattle a reputation for strength and stamina sought after throughout Indonesia.

At a small-town cattle market in Madura, old men puffing on cigarettes rolled from Madura's famed tobacco haggle over young beasts, looking for potential winners.

A pair three months old might fetch 120,000 rupiah (64 dollars). Their first successful race will take that up to a million (550 dollars) and by the time they are two years old and regional champions they can go for eight million (4,400 dollars) or more.

"But they have expensive tastes," complained one owner.

Normally, he said, the cattle eat hay. But in racing season which runs from late August to October they get eggs by the dozen as well as coffee and all manner of herb potions whose exact ingredients the owners won't reveal.

As he talked he rubbed his bull's legs, eyes and tongue with cream from a litle pot to "heat him up" for the big race.

The romantic observer concluding the cream is another secret herbal receipe handed down for generations is soon set straight. It is Rheumason, a popular remedy for aches and pains bought from the pharmacy.

After the early races at village level, bulls are divided into winners and losers, and race in those groups.

That makes for a dull start to the season. Owners who would rather see their bulls be winners among losers than losers among winners don't push their bulls in early races.

This doesn't stop the jockeys, who wait until their competitors have a good start and then belt out at full speed whipping and yelling as usual.

Is it realy necessary to slash a bull's rump with a vicious spiked whip if you want to lose anyway?

"I've been doing this for years," said a world-weary 11 year-old jockey. "It's habit now."