Beyond the skyline of the western desert from Egypt to the Atlantic

ranged the Bay horse, the Barb of times to come. He was a delicate,

swift creature, very brave and gentle. His arched neck bore a black

and streaming mane, his tail was set high and carried clear of the

rump. His eyes were set low, wide apart from which the dainty muzzle

tapered, to sensitive nostrils and to lips like velvet. Legends of

later times, and other countries made him son of the west wind, while

custom gave each of his families a surname. They {132} have always

been exempt from labour, attended by human servants, treated as a

nobility. From very early times they were admitted to the private

family life of the Libyan people, and driven with the four-spoke

wooden chariot until both men and women learned to ride them.

[Sidenote: The Libyans]

In much the same spirit as our country folk go to town for shopping,

it was the pleasant custom of these Libyans to raid Egypt. Between

war and commerce the Egyptians brought Bay horses into their own use

at some time later than the visit of Abraham, but prior to that of

Joseph. This might be about the eighteenth century B.C. the era of

Stonehenge.

Shortly afterwards horses and chariots began to appear in the

painting and sculpture of Egyptian artists. Horses must still have

been scarce when the Pharaoh gave to Joseph a signet and royal robes,

but only lent him his second best chariot. It is true that the

people already owned a few horses, for in the great famine Joseph

accepted them in trade for grain.

[Sidenote: The ridden horse]

It was in that generation that the dying Jacob, speaking from

knowledge common among the civilized Egyptians, mentioned both ships

and horses. He was frank enough to call {133} his son Dan "an adder

in the path, that biteth the horse heels, so that his rider shall

fall backward." Here is the earliest mention of the ridden horse.

It was in Jacob's funeral procession to his native stock range east

of Jordan that there appeared "both chariot and horsemen, a great

company."

One suspects a trace of swank in the story of that "great company."

Jacob's countrymen were sheep herders, destined to go afoot for

centuries to come. The Egyptians used chariots, but never took to

riding as a habit. Merchants were trading horses to the Hittites,

but that (until Ptolemy Philadelphus made water holes, and a highway

in the second century B.C.) was done in face of extreme difficulty.

The week's passage of the Desert of Sin could be made only in the

first two months of each year, and even then the horses must be

refreshed from water bags carried by camels. On the whole it is

likely that the great company of chariots and horsemen was a poetic

device for making the most of Joseph's posthumous importance.

[Sidenote: Horses in Genesis]

According to Manetho, the well-known Egyptian historian, somewhere

about the twenty-first century B.C. a most objectionable

sheep-herding tribe of Arabs began to infest {134} lower Egypt.

Manetho is prejudiced; but just as in modern Western America where

the sheep herder is rated among cattle men as something rather lower

than a dog, it is amusing to see how the poet in Genesis admits that

shepherds were an abomination in the eyes of the Egyptians. If one

dates Abraham's visit to Egypt in the twenty-first instead of the

nineteenth century B.C. old Manetho and the Hebrew poet are perfectly

agreed as to the Hyksos-Israelite invasion.

The Genesis narrative shows the insidious way in which the children

of Israel drifted down into Egypt, then how they made themselves

agreeable as office holders, and by introducing frogs, flies, lice,

cattle sickness and other improvements until at last the Egyptians

waxed desperate and ran them out of the country. Manetho says that

these Hyksos people occupied lower Egypt east of the Nile from

Memphis to the sea, and later on established a dynasty with six Kings

in the succession. After five centuries the Egyptians combined under

the Thebaid Kings of upper Egypt, and drove the Hyksos across the

Desert of Sin into Palestine. It is quite possible that in Genesis,

and Manetho's History we have the two sides of one story, and that it

was the {135} possession of the Libyan chariot which made the

Egyptians powerful enough to rid themselves of the artful but not

very warlike children of Israel.

It is amusing to note the ways of the tribal poet in Israel who

describes the murrain of cattle as killing off every horse in the

length and breadth of Egypt, then out of spite kills them all over

again by drowning in the Red Sea.

[Sidenote: Chariots and horsemen]

Setting the date of the Exodus at B.C. 1580, it would be about B.C.

1540 that the Israelites were afraid to attack the Canaanites who had

good iron chariots. In the same way a nation armed with muzzle

loading guns might hate to molest an army with quick-firing

artillery. Forty years later, about B.C. 1500, horses began to

appear in Mesopotamia, a bad lookout for Israel, destined some six

centuries afterwards to be trampled under by Babylonian chariotry.

Some day we shall have a science of comparative chronology to guide

us in our studies, and so be able to see how little improvements in

horse-breeding, or the use of iron in building chariots, affected the

rise and fall of nations. In the meantime some known facts of Red

Indian history may help us to understand events in ancient Asia.

In primitive Red Indian life the tribes were {136} seated too far

apart to get at each other for serious pitched battles. In lack of

horse transport trade was limited to the waterways, and warfare to

minor internecine pleasantries which kept young men in training.

From the sixteenth century the pressure of white men driving in from

the Atlantic began to affect these almost civilised people, forcing

them to abandon their farms, fisheries and towns, reducing them to

savagery and compelling them to trespass on occupied hunting grounds.

All nations were set by the ears. Then they began to get ponies, and

the rest was chaos.

[Sidenote: The mounted nations]

So perhaps in Asia, the movements of tribes afoot may have been

gradual overflows from crowded districts, and warfare a matter of

cheery little forays to please the young. The possession of ponies

gave a tremendous impetus to war and trade. From that time onward

the tribes which were best mounted had a political future, and there

was a slight handicap in favour of nations with Libyan Bays of

fourteen hands two inches as compared with tribes using the Duns of

Asia.

The Egyptians had horses in the eighteenth century B.C., the

Israelites a few in 1580, the Hittites and Canaanites in 1540, the

Assyrians not until 1500 B.C. Now Egypt, Canaan, {137} Syria,

Mesopotamia and Arabia had no native horses. The Egyptians got

horses from the Sahara, the Asiatics mainly through Armenia. I

cannot believe that the crossing of small Duns with small Bays in any

region bred heavy horses for the needs of war.

[Sidenote: Heavy stock and strong food]

A practical nation in the breeding trade would not rely for heavy

stock upon the crossing of light strains. The way to get heavy stock

is with strong food. Such oases of great deserts as Egypt and

Mesopotamia had very little pasture, so long as their nations

prospered. Every acre then was needed for strong grains. The

well-mounted conquering nations were not those with splendid

pasturage like Northern Africa or Southern Russia, but those which

had no pasturage at all, who were compelled to feed horses on fodder

more potent than any natural grass. The King's people might go

without, but one may be perfectly certain that the King's horses

lived on corn. What tribe or race of folk inherited Egypt or

Mesopotamia mattered nothing, what strain of horses they owned

mattered very little, but the people and the horses, for the time

being in possession of irrigated oases walled about by deserts,

raised the chariotry or the cavalry which ruled the surrounding world.

{138}

[Sidenote: Chariots and cavalry]

Each nation passed through a phase when chariotry were the only

mounted troops of tactical use in war. The importing of the largest

and heaviest horses to be had, the feeding of these with grain, and

cross-breeding of the Dun types with the Bay produced by slow degrees

a remount for use by cavalry.

Earliest in the running were the Hebrews, for about 1000 B.C. King

Solomon built stables for 40,000 chariots, and as many as 12,000

cavalry. As early as 700 B.C. Armenia, being in contact with the

Asiatic and Russian horse stocks, became a large horse breeding

establishment, supplying remounts southward to Asia Minor, where in

B.C. 560 King Croesus of Lydia had good cavalry, to Syria and

Palestine, to Assyria, and to Persia down to the fourth century. But

in the meantime shipping had grown in the Mediterranean, and ships of

sufficient burden to carry African Bays began to supply the Greeks.

From the pony chariots of the fourteenth century B.C. a steadily

improving stock marked the rise of Hellas. The Achaeans of 1000 B.C.

had imported Bays. The Greeks of 400 B.C. had cavalry. Then came

the breeding of fine horses in Macedonia, and, after the death of

Philip in B.C. 336, the mounted troops of his {139} great son

Alexander swept like a whirlwind across the Eastward deserts to where

the monsoon rains made India populous. By this time cavalry had

replaced the chariot. At the era of the Christ a chariot was still

used when a victorious general entered a city in triumph. But the

use of chariotry in war was limited to remote barbaric tribes such as

the British.

[Sidenote: The chariot]

The chariot for practical purposes was extinct before a single horse

had found his way over the long dry marches leading out of the world

to the remote oases of Arabia. Strabo the geographer, who at the era

of our Lord made a survey of the known world, found that the horse

had not yet entered Arabia. A land indeed where no water can be had

except from wells was not a possible range for pastured horses, and

the horse has not sufficient thirst endurance to be of much use for

transport between the oases, whereas asses and camels were to be had

much cheaper.

[Sidenote: The Arab horse]

It was in the earliest Christian centuries that Arabian chiefs began

to import Bay horses from Egypt. It seems likely that the beginning

of their sea-trade enabled them to do so. While almost all nations

of Europe and Asia were compelled by the need for heavy war horses to

feed grain and to cross the imported {140} Bay with their native

stock, the Arabs tried to preserve the purity of the desert breed.

Even at this time eighty-five per cent. of high caste Arabian horses

are Bays; and there is only one strain of any importance, the Hamdani

so crossed with Russian Tarpans as to be white or grey. It must be

remembered, however, that the demand of the Indian and European

markets for greys and for heavy cross-breds has led the Arabs to

breed extensively from their low caste strains. Moreover, the

neighbouring regions of Syria and Mesopotamia sell cross-bred horses

as "Arabian" regardless of colour, and of honesty. The Bay mares of

the real Arabian aristocracy are never sold, and of the horses very

few reach the market as compared with the numbers of low caste

animals forming the ruck of the trade.

Down to the seventh century A.D. the Arabs were busy breeding from a

very few imported Bays their meagre supply of horses. So far as the

possession of horses went they would not have attracted much

attention but for the coming to Arabia of steel weapons.

[Sidenote: A result of Islam]

From prehistoric times the Swedes had been mining iron, and their

trade routes led by river, to Novgorod, where lived a trading family

the Romanovs, from whom descend {141} the Emperors of Russia. By

river boat and by pack trail the Swedish iron found its way to many

markets. Towards the seventh century the iron reached the Arabian

oases to be forged into weapons of Islam. When the Arabian horsemen

were armed and inspired by Mahomet they set out to conquer the world

in the name of Allah. With the Moslem conquests eastward to Delhi,

and westward through Spain to Poictiers, the Bay Horse passed into

the commerce of mankind, adding to the endurance of the Asiatic Dun,

and the strength of the European dappled horse that touch of

gentleness and fire which quickens a dull animal into a living spirit.

{142}

CHAPTER VI.

HORSEMANSHIP.

I. THE STRAIGHT LEG.

[Sidenote: The straight leg]

THE SEAT. Among the Red Indians I have known, the mounted people

were the Blackfeet, Stonies, Crees, Yakimas, Navajos, Moquis, and a

few tribes in Mexico. So far as I can learn no Indian was ever

taught to ride, or heard of riding as an accomplishment to be

learned. The commonest equipment was a blanket and surcingle; but

all the horse apparel used by white men was eagerly played for in the

gambling games. The riding seemed to be natural, with a perfection

of grace one rarely sees among white men.

The man rode down to his crotch, yet the forward slant of the thighs

gave rest to the pelvis bones upon the horse's back, while the lower

leg hung vertical and loose.

At halt or walk the whole seat was loose, but as the pace increased

at trot or canter the {143} thighs locked with a grip of tremendous

power, rigid save for the play of the skin. From the waist upward

the poise was quite erect, and supple, with the shoulders slightly

eased.

At a gallop the lower legs wrapped round the horse's barrel, and the

movement of the man as seen behind an edge of skyline was like the

flight of a bird.

For pony racing boys rode instead of men. Since the boys' legs were

not long enough to wrap round the horse, the thighs were lifted,

nearly horizontal, the lower legs bent sharply back, and a surcingle

was strapped across the knees. Still the perch was on the animal's

back, and not on the withers, as in the negro gait so much admired

under the name of the American racing seat.

Was the Red Indian seat straight leg or bent leg? With stirrups it

was straight leg. For boy jockeys only the racing gait was bent leg.

[Sidenote: The Greek seat]

A reference to the sculptures of Pheideas, and Praxiteles (fifth

century B.C.) shows that the Greeks rode at slow gaits with the same

leg as the Red Indian, but like him bent the knees very sharply at

racing speed.

At first sight these Greek sculptures from the Parthenon rather

remind one of the Red Indian seat. A little closer study shows that

{144} the models chosen by the sculptor were not horsemen, but

carefully selected athletes. They were no more horsemen for example,

than the glorious athlete represented at high tension by Watts in his

equestrian statue of Physical Energy. The back is too much curved

for that of the Red Indian, who earned a living on horseback from his

childhood, and kept a professional watch on the horizon rather than

an amateur's nervous observation of the pony's ears. So one turns

away from the misleading splendours of Greek sculpture, to the

professional guidance of General Xenophon, a horseman who knew his

business. "Whether he uses a cloth or rides on the bare back we

would not have him sit as one who drives a chariot" (bent knees),

"but as if he were standing erect with his legs somewhat astride, for

thus his thighs will cling closer to his horse, and he will be able

to wield his lance and shield with more force."

This seems to show that for freedom in the use of weapons the Greek

cavalry adopted straight leg riding before they had saddle or

stirrups. So far as I can learn the Hellenic seat passed on into

Roman practice, but through the Dark Ages which followed the fall of

Rome there seems to be no guidance as to {145} the conduct of

horsemen. Horses were not saddled in England until 631 A.D., and the

first pictures we have which reveal the horsemanship of the Middle

Ages are the Bayeux tapestries of the Norman Conquerors. Now for the

first time horses were used by farmers to till the land. Chain mail

had replaced the scale armour of the Barbarians. A perfectly

straight leg locked the horseman aft against the cantle, forward

against the stirrup of a weight-distributing saddle.

[Sidenote: The war saddle]

THE WAR SADDLE. During the five centuries in which body armour

slowly increased in weight, and horse armour was added to the burden,

the dappled woodland horse of Northern Europe was bred from strength

to strength to take the growing load. So we came by our Destriérs,

now known as the cart horse breeds, such as the Percheron, Cleveland

Bay, and Suffolk Punch, and the heavy draught such as the Shire and

Clydesdale.

Plate armour is still worn a good deal on the stage, in pageants and

in military tournaments. Men used to this armour tell me that a

horseman who rides less than his weight while his limbs are free,

rides more than his weight when he is cramped in movement.

Suppose then that a 190 pound man in 90 {146} pounds of armour makes

a dead weight of 280 pounds. Add harness and horse armour, and the

total weight is about 400 pounds. At a canter this load would

certainly need a draught horse weighing not less than 1,500 pounds.

Using the English saddlery one would prefer the heaviest draught

animal.

Now take a load of 350 pounds in mining machinery and add 50 pounds

for an apparejo pack equipment. This total dead weight of 400 pounds

would make a light cargo for a 1,000 pound mule or horse, who would

carry it without distress a day's march up a range of mountains.

But note well that the bearing surface of the equipment on the

horse's back is about two square feet with the English saddle, and

nearly eight square feet for the usual apparel of horses in heavy

packing. As anybody would rather carry two buckets of water than

one, because the load is halved by being properly distributed, so

will the horse prefer a heavy load distributed over the whole rigid

area of the ribs to a light load concentrated on a few square inches.

The distribution of the load is of greater importance than its weight.

[Sidenote: Armoured horsemen]

In the days of light chain mail a special saddle was evolved with a

deep seat wherein {147} the rider was locked against the cantle by

the straight thrust of his legs against box stirrups. As chain mail

gave way to the heavier plate armour, the saddle bars were more and

more widely padded until they covered every available inch of the

rigid ribs.

Nobody seems to have noticed that with every kind of armour a chamois

or buckskin lining afforded a rough-grain leather strapping for the

unarmoured seat and thighs, and this gave a greasy grip against the

oiled saddle.

As the use of gunpowder advanced, piece by piece the armour was put

aside, until now nothing remains but the cuirass; but the leather

lining retained its usefulness, and leather breeches are still in

very general use among modern horsemen because they give an excellent

grip on the saddle.

Armour had reached and passed its greatest weight when the Spaniards

conquered the new world, and the Conquistadores took to Peru and

Mexico their weight-distributing saddle, buckskin grip, high cantle

and box stirrups. The strays from their horse and cattle stock bred

feral herds which spread into North America. So stock riders were

engaged to handle the Spanish cattle on Andalusian ponies. They kept

the old war saddle quite {148} unchanged, with its weight

distribution, high cantle, box stirrups and oiled leather seat.

[Sidenote: The stock saddle]

Next came the American of the North to learn from Texans their art of

handling stock, and almost throughout the Western States the Vaquero

was replaced by the Cowboy. Both were abstemious and hard-working

men. In their valour, gentleness, skill and power as rough-riders

they were equals, and hardly surpassed. The methods of both in

horse-breaking were altogether vile, and the horsemastership almost

as bad. But there the equality ends; for the cowboy had endurance

and vitality beyond all comparison in the modern world, was master

where the Vaquero of Mexico is servant, had the brains and character,

the chivalry and high initiative of a ruling race. Without the Red

Indian grace in horsemanship, the American cow-puncher takes rank

with the knight-at-arms and the cavalier among the greater horsemen

of all ages. It is well to give him the credit for experienced and

practical good sense in matters of horsemanship and equipment.

[Sidenote: Horse mastership]

THE RANCHE HAND AS HORSEMASTER. While a pony sold at ten dollars he

was not considered worth educating. A professional broncho buster

took him in hand for five {149} dollars, and smashed him. The pony

was a wild animal, timid but ferocious. The broncho buster was not

at all timid, but he was ferocious to an extent which horrified the

animal, and intelligent to a degree which reduced the victim to

abject obedience. So the horse surrendered and came into the care of

a cowpuncher. They started out together on the range, and if they

felt fresh of a morning there would be a bucking match which both of

them rather enjoyed. There was no ill feeling, for after all a horse

is as good a sportsman as any man. Then came the work of handling

cattle, and the horse enjoyed that sport which taxed all he had of

courage and skill and endurance. It made a partnership between two

persons who loved sport, and dealt with cattle as mere lower animals.

There was hearty good fellowship between horse and man, which

sometimes ripened into a love stronger than death.

Of horsemastership as understood in civilized life there never was a

symptom. When the puncher, after long months of abstinent living,

happened to ride into a town, he stepped off his horse, threw the

rein to the ground and left the animal standing in the street while

he got drunk. Afterwards the pony would carry {150} him homeward

unless he became dead drunk and fell off. The pony went to camp

anyway, to get himself unsaddled and join the herd. Sometimes the

puncher didn't even get drunk, being broke, or in love, but that made

no difference to his meticulous neglect of the whole practice of

horsemastership as explained in books.

And the ponies prospered, usually fat as butter because they lived a

perfectly natural life.

[Sidenote: The cowboy]

THE RANCHE HAND AS HORSEMAN. Nobody taught the budding cowboy any

art of riding. It was merely a habit. When the saddle taught him to

sit well down and ride straight leg he ceased to tumble off. When he

left off interfering with the rein the horse steered clear of holes,

and there were neither stumbles nor falls.

From camp gossip he knew that a horse cannot buck if one keeps his

head up. If the novice did amiss the foreman or some elder cowhand

advised him. The pride of a great calling made him a stickler for

exquisite form in riding, and the emulation to beat rival outfits

imposed on each a high standard of efficiency. The work was usually

done at a canter to allow of the lightning swiftness in {151} turning

to head off cattle, wherein the punching of cows closely resembles

polo. Travel on the other hand was alternate trotting and walking.

The seat at the canter was almost Red Indian in its grace. The seat

at the trot thrust the buttocks against the cantle, and raked the

body at a slant very stiffly forward, the back forming a straight

line, and the head thrown up so that the eyes were level to the

horizon. This trotting seat was ungainly, but, like the more

graceful English trotting, was supposed to ease the horse.

Undoubtedly the horsemanship was fine, especially in the delicate art

of roping, and never more so than in the occasional use of a pony as

pack animal on journeys. The single-hand diamond hitch in loading a

pack horse is a very fair test of a man's all-round skill and

deftness with the hands. Other signs of fine horsemanship might be

noted in the suppling of leather work, the pride in a clean gun, and

a youthful delight in silver ornament of belt and spur and bridle.

[Sidenote: The ranche horsemanship]

In the study of American range horsemanship it is well to remember

that the experts who contributed to the practice were not limited to

ranche hands, but included scouts, the military, forest, fire, game

and other types of rangers, trappers and wolfers, express riders,

prospectors, {152} traders, the Rocky Mountain outlaws, the sheriffs

and marshals and Mounted Police. The equipment is mainly of Spanish

origin, and named with Spanish words.

II. EQUIPMENT OF HORSEMEN.

[Sidenote: Equipment of horsemen]

The healthfulness of a horseman's life has developed to the fullest

extent his natural passions both in love and war, and it is a notable

fact that the males of nearly all species who love and defend their

mates go very bravely dressed. So in all ages both military and

civilian horsemen have worn an honest bravery and gallantry of

equipment suited for loving and fighting, for quests of bold

adventure and of conquest. Much that in a clerk or craftsman would

be grotesque is seemly for mounted men.

THE SWEAT PAD. In Queensland, Argentino and pack train practice, it

is usual to lay on the horse's back a soft sugar sack, a crash towel

or other fabric not likely to slip or crinkle. This is called the

sweat pad. Its first purpose is to receive the special marks made by

any turning or chafing of the horse's hair which may be the

beginnings of a gall. Its second purpose is to take the sweat, hair,

scurf, grease and dirt which would not be noticed on a dark blanket,

but is easily seen and rubbed or washed out of a {153} sweat pad.

The third purpose is to keep the blanket perfectly clean for the

man's use at night. With saddle and pack horses the horseman gets

two blankets, a canvas pack cover and his rain coat, enough material

for a luxurious bed.

[Sidenote: The blanket]

THE BLANKET. Because the numnah makes poor bedding one prefers a

blanket. If one cuts a hole in a numnah to ease an incipient blister

on the horse, the edges of the felt are apt to cause more blisters.

Another advantage of a blanket is that it can be folded in a great

many ways to make the saddle fit more perfectly, or to relieve some

part of the back which shows signs of galling. The usual size of

blanket folds once lengthways, then once, or a fold of three

crossways. Take care to have a fold, and not edges of blanket to the

front, lest it ruck under the saddle.

THE AMERICAN STOCK SADDLE. As the Mexican wooden tree was never

strong enough, the American has rivetted to the fore ends of the bars

a fork of wrought steel which is surmounted by the horn which takes

the strain in roping. In the twentieth century this arch has widened

to make a larger opening clear of the withers, and it gives heavy

shoulders to the saddle. To save weight the old square skirts {154}

have been trimmed and rounded. The seat still slopes sharply from

front to rear, throwing the rider's weight against the cantle. The

horse-hair cincha (girth) is replaced by one of lamp wick, which

causes less irritation. The latego or strap to take the purchase in

cinching up the saddle has been replaced by the English strap and

buckle to save time. There is a loss, however, in efficiency,

because the old double-rig saddle with two cinchas (the second for

mountain use and for bucking horses) had two pair of rings, and one

was able to sling a single cincha forward or aft in case the skin

showed chafing. A centre-fire rig is never so adaptable for various

kinds of use.

[Sidenote: The stirrup]

STIRRUP. The word means mounting rope, and the ideas of adjusting

the rider's balance, and of locking him against the cantle are only

after-thoughts. In great cold a steel stirrup would cause dangerous

freezing of the feet, and in great heat the metal is apt to burn

them. Hence, in Mexican practice, the use of a hardwood stirrup with

a leather floor, and to guard against acacia thorns this is enclosed

in a leather box called the tapadero. American practice has

dispensed with the leather, and lately reduced the bent-wood stirrup

to a mere ring, so large in some cases that the foot {155} will go

through, and thus expose the rider to a risk of being dragged to

death. The men of to-day are less practical than those of the old

real frontier.

[Sidenote: The Australian saddle]

THE AUSTRALIAN STOCK SADDLE. The Australian stockman has done all

that was possible to enlarge the bearing surface of the English

saddle. He has also added pads, on the same principle as those of a

lady's saddle, to retain the knees. The first flight of horsemen

have their saddles made with the leather inside out, because the

inner surface gives a better grip. By removing the stuffing down the

middle of the panel they make a groove to take the leg. Thus by

ingenious makeshift they have evolved a practical equipment for their

sound, straight-leg horsemanship. As horsemen their best

stock-riders are certainly not surpassed by any men of our race, and

when one considers that their walers are larger and more powerful

than the general stock of North America, Australian roughriding must

be rated even above the American. I notice, however, that when they

use American equipment they seem to like it better than their own.

THE RECADO. A careful analysis of the Argentino equipment shows that

it is the home-made {156} effort of a first-rate horseman to produce

a practical, weight-distributing saddle. The best and most improved

forms, however, lack the strength of the Mexican rigging, which the

Mexicans themselves reject if they can afford the North American.

THE MCCLELLAN SADDLE. So far as I remember this model it made no

pretence of weight-distribution, while it was coloured black, an

excellent device for hiding defects in leather. The saddle was much

praised in the United States Army, and may account for the failure of

mounted troops to rival the mobility of range horsemen.

[Sidenote: The bitt]

THE BITT. Because our own eyes are intended for long sight, we are

apt to imagine that the horse has the same habit of studying the

horizon. Yet when one lives with a range horse one discovers that he

has never seen or imagined any such thing as an horizon. Everything

beyond a hundred yards is blurred; but if he were in the habit of

reading the newspaper he would hold it about six feet from his eyes,

for within that distance his sight is in better focus than our own.

[Sidenote: Horse's sight]

His eyes differ from ours in having also a much wider angle of

vision. One might compare our eyes to a brace of guns in the fore

{157} barbette of a warship; and the horse's eyes to two guns thrown

out on sponsons wide of the ship, so that they can be swung round to

cover the whole horizon. See how the horse's head is raised so that

his own body does not intercept his backward sight. See how the head

widens to place the eyes as far apart as possible, while the skull

tapers upwards to give him a clear view of the sky, and tapers

downwards to give a clear view of the ground. There is nothing in

the whole sphere of possible vision which the horse cannot see by

lifting and lowering his head.

The intention of the eyes, then, is not to see the distances ahead,

but to scrutinize at close range all overhanging branches of the

trees, the minutest details of surrounding bush, and most especially

with microscopic detail everything underfoot.

Everybody knows that the horse is clever in avoiding the earth heaps

made by burrowing animals, but I think there is also reason to

believe that he can distinguish by relative dampness or dryness, and

plant growth of the soil those tunnels and chambers of badgers and

other ground game which do not reach up to the surface. It is only

at full gallop that he fails to see the surface indications of blind

{158} burrows, and is apt to blunder into them with disastrous

results both for himself and for his rider.

But what has all this got to do with bitts? We must advance the

argument to a further stage.

[Sidenote: The slack rein]

In the eighteenth century the Evangelist, Richard Wesley, rode on his

preaching tours some seventy thousand miles on English highways.

Because he could buy them cheap he always used stumbling horses. As

he rode he would let the rein drop while he read the Bible, and

presently would find the stumbler cured. There are some horses, he

said, who will stumble over their own shadows, but nearly always a

slack rein will cure them. Then one can sell them at a better price,

and so make money to pay the expenses of travel.

To prevent stumbling, the range man trains his horse to slack rein,

and in this matter reverts to an old war practice. The steering of

horses by the knee is most excellent horsemanship.

Because I lacked the suppleness for steering by the knee it has been

my practice to let the rein lie on the horse's neck. If any steering

is needed, it is easy to have the two sides of the {159} rein tied in

a half hitch, and, holding the knot between thumb and finger, to slap

the rein on the side of the neck to show which way one is going.

Only if the horse needs handling one rides him on the rein with the

utmost possible gentleness of the hand. But if the bitt comes into

serious use it is better to have one which will lock on the lower

jaw. I find my broken-bar snaffle pulls up a bolting horse in about

five jumps, but so far only one or two out of many horses have needed

so much severity. The range horse rarely pulls, and I scarcely

remember seeing a double rein in use among range horsemen.

[Sidenote: Voice and rein]

The greatest disadvantage of the rein is that it serves like a

telegraph wire to carry the vibrations of fear. I prefer to use a

voice which I can control rather than a hand which is apt to betray

me. A low-pitched, quiet voice is very useful if one's hands are

rough; and the training of hands is a grace limited to civilized

horsemanship.

There is a certain pattern of headstall which has the cheek strap

coming down to a piece of brass which is best described as a D or

squared ring. The nose band ends at the front side of the squared

ring. The chin piece ends at the {160} after side of the squared

ring, and carries the end of the headrope. From the bottom side of

the squared ring hangs a snap to take the ring of a snaffle. So one

keeps the headstall on the horse, and snaps the bitt on or off.

The advantage of curb bitts seems to be mainly in dealing with

dangerous, or very powerful horses, or for an additional delicacy in

steering; but range men prefer to make appliances as simple as

possible, and rather dread a complicated gear which may go wrong in

sudden emergencies.

SADDLE WALLETS. For the general purposes of travel I carry in the

wallets a tin of gall cure, a medicine case containing chlorodyne,

and tablets of quinine, carbolic acid, cascara, a salicylate and

permanganate of potash, with a lancet, forceps, surgical needles and

silk, and a dressing; a mosquito salve such as oil of pennyroyal, and

some netting; a toothbrush in a case, soap in a tobacco pouch, and a

towel; toilet paper; a little sealed bottle of matches for

emergencies; an emergency ration such as cake chocolate; luncheon;

something to read; notebook and pencil.

THE HORSEMAN'S DRESS.

[Sidenote: The horseman's dress]

PROTECTION FROM LIGHT. In the history of the North American

wilderness there are {161} three very distinct phases. The buckskin

period of heroic adventure; the period of blue shirts and overalls

marked by chaotic disorder and the period of yellow khaki and brown

clothing with orderly progress.

The period of blue clothing, however, was one of perfect law and

order in the wildest parts of Canada; of comparative disorder in the

North-Western States, and of total chaos in the South-Western

deserts. Even in Western Canada, suicide was common, and terrific

drunks would seize in a moment upon whole communities; but the

Mounted Police, wearing scarlet, kept their discipline so that

homicides were almost invariably hanged, and robbers imprisoned with

prompt efficiency.

In the North-Western States, the suicides, drunks, lynchings,

robberies and homicides were considered as privileges of a free

citizenship. There were vestiges of government.

In the South-Western States, the only law was that of the revolver,

and duelling took the place of government.

In the three regions the amount of disorder varied precisely with the

intensity of the sunlight, and lawlessness ceased with the

introduction, at the turn of the twentieth century, of yellow, khaki

and brown colours in clothing.

{162}

[Sidenote: Colour and morals]

All this may be coincidence. The latitudes of the South-Western

desert in the Northern hemisphere correspond with those of the South

African veldt in the Southern hemisphere. Moreover, the population

of the American desert region was about equal to the British Field

Force in South Africa. The American frontiersmen wore blue, the

British soldiers khaki. Passing from one region to the other, I was

astounded by the contrast between the blue-clad frontier supporting

four hundred riders by the single industry of robbery-under-arms, and

the khaki-clad army which in three-and-a-half years scored only one

act of robbery. The peaceful civil population was engaged in blood

feuds, promiscuous homicide, and every kind of violent crime; while

the fighting army won the hearty confidence of the Boer field force

by its chivalrous protection of the Boer women. In the one case

crime was universal, in the other almost unknown.

And this may still be all coincidence.

The Great War is fought, mainly in latitude of scant sunlight. The

German forces, clad in blue-grey, have made a practice of rape,

slaughter of women and children, torture and murder of prisoners,

sacking and burning of cities, bombing of unarmed folk, fighting

{163} with liquid fire and with poisonous gas. The khaki clad armies

have not as yet been charged with military crimes. The blue-clad

French army has not fought among a foreign population, has not in

fact been tempted or found a motive which makes crime attractive.

It is beyond the limits of coincidence that where large numbers of

white men live an unsheltered life and wear a single colour, those

dressed in blue are guilty--except the French--of violent crime, from

which those dressed in compounds of red and yellow are altogether

free.

[Sidenote: Clothes and light]

To the blue, indigo and violet rays of light a white man's body is

transparent as so much water. When he lives outdoors his health is

normal so long as his body is sheltered by colours which beat back

the actinic rays of light. If he wears blue, white, grey or any

other colour transparent to these rays, they burn right through him,

destroying all germs of disease, and so allowing the body to develop

tremendous energy--the keynote of frontier life. After a few years

of this, the actinic rays begin to destroy the tissues of the body,

and nerves break down. The symptoms of neurasthenia are:

{164}

(1) Hysteria, expressed in wanton crime.

(2) Dipsomania, expressed in tremendous debauches following long

spells of abstinence.

(3) Suicide.

Every range man will remember how these three forms of nervous

disorder have wrecked the lives of his friends, and how the best men

were taken, not the weaklings. If so much disaster is avoided by

wearing colours which protect the body from actinic burning, it seems

a reasonable conduct to avoid blue clothing, and to copy the

hues--such as dun, bay, or brown, which nature provides to guard the

animals.

PROTECTION FROM CHILLS. To absorb sweat, all underwear should be

woollen.

[Sidenote: Dress for concealment]

CONCEALMENT FROM ENEMIES. Man is the only animal whose figure is

upright, cutting the lines of the landscape, and therefore

conspicuous at a great distance. A single colour is therefore more

easily seen than two blobs of colour such as a khaki shirt and brown

trousers, or a bay shirt and dun trousers. As armies paint their

guns in broken splashes of colour, men's uniforms should not be whole

coloured if they are to blend with the landscape.

[Sidenote: The hat]

THE HAT. The Red Indian calls the white {165} men "hat-wearers," and

takes notice of our baldness. Savages who wear no hats are never

bald. Why then should we wear hats? I think that on the range, if

we began early enough, we should do well to let our hair grow for the

protection of the head and the nape of the neck from the sun. On the

old American Frontier the pioneers did grow long hair because a man

with no scalplock was not worth killing, and therefore barred from

councils of the Indians.

The primitive hat of the range was a disc of bison skin, sodden, and

the middle, thrust into a hole in the ground, was filled with stones.

A leather string laced round the edge kept the brim from flopping. A

leather band fitted the crown to the head.

Later came a Mr. Stetson of Philadelphia, with a copy of this range

hat in beaver-fur felt soaked in shellac, and so felted that the

edges did not flop. A bootlace round the front of the hatband passed

through an eyelet above each ear, and was tied with a hard knot

behind the head. This prevented the hat from blowing away and let in

air behind the head to ventilate the crown. Pinching the crown with

four dints for the words North West Mounted Police, branded the

cowboy Stetson as a {166} soldier's hat which was adopted in South

Africa by most of the mounted Irregulars of the British Empire, and

by the Boy Scouts who copied the design in felt of rabbit fur.

[Sidenote: The measure of warmth]

A rival type of slouch hat which flopped down all round was used by

the ancient Greeks. Looped on one side it was worn by the Cavaliers

of the British Civil War, looped on three sides it became the cocked

hat of the eighteenth century, and on two sides, of the Napoleonic

era, surviving in diplomatic uniforms and those of naval officers and

civic functionaries. Looped on one side again it was worn in the

American Civil War, and by British Africanders and Australasians.

Softened and not looped it replaced the stiff-brimmed Stetson on the

American range.

[Sidenote: Shirt and breeches]

SHIRT. It was among the Eskimo that I learned the philosophy of the

shirt. These very practical folk wear a hooded shirt, close-fitting

at the throat, wrists and waist. For summer the material is cotton

or serge, for winter the warmest furs; but in any case it forms a bag

of air warmed by the body. The shirt then consists of an outer

garment of skin or a textile fabric, and an inner garment of heated

air protecting the vital organs. Opened at neck and wrists it is the

coolest of garments, {167} closed it is the warmest for any given

weight. In contrast a coat or jacket is open at the bottom, the

front, the neck and the wrists, so that four times the weight is

needed to produce the warmth of a shirt.

Military dress is always a belated copy of the civil costume in each

period.

It is designed by a contractor whose motive is to obtain the handling

of public money. It is approved by a military official who has never

done a day's labour or a day's fighting with the weapons of the

enlisted man. Hence the persistence of the Roman tunic which excels

all known garments in cost, weight, the cramping of the lungs, and

the disabling of the arms and shoulders whose perfect freedom is

needed for wielding weapons and tools. For working or fighting it

has to be removed.

The mounted civilian rides for pleasure in a coat, the mounted

soldier rides for duty in a tunic, the range horseman rides for a

living and wears a shirt. By the exercise of human reason the range

man protects his vital organs at a fourth part of the cost, weight,

and encumbrance to which the fashions have subjected the sportsmen

and the soldiers.

BREECHES. The dress of a gentleman has always been that of the

mounted warrior. {168} When plate armour had to be given up because

it was no longer bullet proof its lining survived in the form of

leather breeches. These leathers are usually whitewashed, but they

are still worn by the British Household Cavalry, who are "Gentlemen

of the King's guard"; by hunting men; by the mounted servants who

used to be armed retainers and still wear livery as such; and in the

_charro_ dress of Mexico. They belong to the tradition of

aristocracy.

[Sidenote: Philosophy of trousers]

The principle of breeches is a close fit for the inner surface of the

knee and thigh, because with heavy material such as leather or cloth

any wrinkles against the saddle will tear off one's skin and cause a

deal of pain. With bent leg riding, the outer surface of the thighs

had to be loosened, and this loosening has developed into monstrous

puffed sleeves which expose the Englishman to ridicule on an

irreverent stock-range.

[Sidenote: Trousers and boots]

TROUSERS. During the French Revolution, gentlemen in the town dress

of the period, with knee breeches and silk stockings, had their heads

chopped off, and all who valued their health took to trousers as an

expression of liberal opinions. Trousers to the heels as

distinguished from trousers tucked into boots {169} are still worn in

Russia to indicate liberal views. An ultra-royalist is not content

with long boots, but must add rubber overshoes to make his feet look

large.

Away from the influence of English fashions, the horsemen of the

world wear trousers; of cloth in the Russian Empire and South Africa,

of moleskin in Australasia, of duck in North America. Any kind of

tight clothing which cramps the limbs is looked upon as an

abomination.

BOOTS. Long boots were recommended by Xenophon to the Greeks, low

shoes are older still. Both save the natural strength and spring of

the ankle which is needed in mounting a horse, useful in riding him.

Towards the middle of the nineteenth century the increase of town

life and improved paving made boot-tops worn under trousers appear

superfluous in weight, cost and discomfort. Thus came the ankle boot

as an economy and a comfort, but coupled with it was a lacing to

"support" the ankle. To lace a man's ankle or a woman's waist is to

replace with a merely stiff material the strong elastic muscles of

the natural body, and sap the necessary health and strength which God

has given.

{170}

[Sidenote: The logic of boots]

In all outdoor life long boots ensure dry feet, and the top should

reach the knee-cap to be of real use in wet ground, or when one

kneels cooking beside the camp fire. The boot legs guard one against

venomous reptiles and insects, and protect the shin bone which, for

lack of any muscle, is liable to be broken by many kinds of accident.

Lacing either a long or an ankle boot puts an end to free ventilation

of the foot, making the skin to sweat, to soften, and in many cases

to become offensive.

For horsemen the boot leg is a useful protection from the chafing of

stirrup leathers.

In war the soldier who wears laced boots is obliged to sleep in them,

whereas long boots, kept properly greased, are so quickly put on that

it is safe to remove them at night. For infantry, the world's

marching record was made by Colorado miners as volunteers for the New

Mexico campaign. They wore long boots, as do the Russian and

Germanic armies whose marching is said to be better than that of the

French and British who have laced the ankle.

[Sidenote: The boot-leg]

The boot leg should not be shaped like a bucket to catch rain as with

the United States Cavalry, or like a stovepipe to cripple a man afoot

as with British horsemen. Without being tight like the puttee for

the production {171} of varicocele, the boot leg should fit close.

The ankle should be supple as a stocking, and "bellowsed" to make

sure of suppleness. The counter should be of the hardest possible

leather, thick, but fining upwards to an edge, and so made that when

the man's foot spreads the foot of the boot, this fine upper edge,

closes over the ball of the heel to prevent chafing. For the

horseman the heel should be broad and flat, or high and tapering to

prevent it from getting through the stirrups.

The boot-top of the seventeenth century came well up the thigh, but

was turned down in summer for coolness, showing the brown inside of

the leather. Later on this turned down top was replaced for

smartness by a useless detachable cuff. For smartness also, the

English leg was made rigid, disabling the wearer. Lately I went to a

smart London maker for boots to suit my need of a supple ankle, flat

heel, and modelled counter. The sales gentleman made me feel acutely

that I was a cad, the workmen struck, and the proprietor corrected my

design, revenging himself in his bill for the delay he caused me. It

is in details such as this that one feels that the whole art of

horsemanship in England has become a frozen convention, and is dying.

{172}

[Sidenote: Spurs]

SPURS. The spur was a prick or goad, from Roman times down to the

thirteenth century. With plate armour came a rowel on a long shank.

This rowel has shrunk in Europe to a small sharp weapon which draws

blood, but on the American stock range it has increased in size to an

average of three inches. The larger the points are the more they can

be blunted, and the less they hurt a horse. On the old American

range an Englishman removed the rowels from his spurs or adopted the

blunt rowel before he was considered fit for human society.

The rowel should be loose enough to rattle, so that at night one may

go to one's horse in pasture, and, knowing the sound of his master,

he will not run away.

A gentle spur is used to encourage and not to hurt a horse, to bring

him to attention, to aid in fine steering. It may be locked in the

girth so that, holding on by one leg one may lie behind the horse's

neck when under fire, or pick up a rope from the ground.

NECK CLOTH. A kerchief loose round the neck saves the top of the

spine from sunstroke. It should be of any colour not containing

blue, of the lightest silk for use as mosquito bar at night, and

twenty-six inches square for use as a {173} sling, bandage, or

tourniquet in case of accident.

[Sidenote: Shaps]

SHAPS (from Chapareras--protection from chapparal or thorns of

acacia). These are leggings reaching from waist to heel of heavy

oiled leather. They differ from trousers in having no seat or fly,

but consist of two trunks each laced or buckled down the outer seam

of the leg, and attached at the waist to a half belt. The two half

belts are tied together in front with one turn of a leather string,

ready to break apart if they get caught on the horn of the saddle in

bucking, and fastened again with buckle and strap behind.

The woolly or hairy fronted snaps made for snowy or wet districts are

more plentiful among tenderfeet, showmen and cinema actors than they

ever were upon the modest stock range. The usual pattern is of plain

brown leather, nearly black with use. It is sometimes fringed, or

ornamented with silver dollars or even twenty dollar golden pieces

down the outer seam.

The uses of shaps are to give a grip in the saddle, to shelter the

legs from heat, cold, rain, snow, to serve as armour against kicking,

biting, scraping, backfalls, rolling and other diversions of horses,

the horns of cattle, rocks, {174} thorns, snakes, scorpions,

tarantulas, rope abrasions, grass fires and other little discomforts.

Their excellent comfort in the saddle, and in lieu of blankets at

night, would be enough to justify their use, but without them one

would be hurt or even seriously killed in course of the day's work.

As they make walking difficult they are useless for all the purposes

of war.

[Sidenote: Arms and morals]

ARMS. On the great ranges Romance is just as prevalent as sunshine,

and Emotion blows as freely as the wind, but in this study we have to

do with Reason. In cold blood we are trying to study equipment and

methods of men whose lives depend upon sound, practical, unbiassed

common sense.

When a fellow takes to the range what are his motives? If he goes

out to hunt for trouble he will do well to buy a large,

well-balanced, accurately-sighted, blued revolver of a simple pattern

not readily clogged or damaged. He will devote his leisure for many

months to practice at all ranges, in all sorts of weather, in light

and darkness, afoot and mounted until he can fire a double-roll

fusillade. If he gets killed at practice, so much the better for the

public. If not he has only to take to the range and make himself a

general nuisance {175} until he meets a better shot than himself. I

never met a man with more than twenty-seven notches on his gun-stock,

but have known plenty who took an honest pleasure in blotting out

unnecessary gun-fools.

If a fellow takes to the range, who is not in search of trouble, but

merely intends to earn an honest living and make a decent home, he is

better without a weapon. When I was a younger fool than I am now,

and took a delight in revolvers, and bluffed with a gun, it nearly

always got me into trouble. I found that it was a poor thing to

shirk the first obligation of manhood, which is self-reliance, and

sink to mere dependence on a weapon.

[Sidenote: Self-reliance]

Nobody who can possibly run away is fool enough to encounter

single-handed a homicidal maniac on the war path, a gang of

vigilantes or desperadoes in a nasty temper, or a hostile tribe of

savages. Against such odds the use of a weapon in the open is merely

suicide. The first thing needed is an inward prayer which makes

one's nerve quite steady. A serene manner fills the enemy with

misgivings that one has unseen support. To throw one's weapon to the

enemy as a gift is to surprise him into talking. Once he begins, the

more vociferous he is, the sooner he talks himself out. {176} A

maniac temper will evaporate in talk in about forty-five minutes, but

savages will sometimes last two hours or more before they are quite

run down. After the first laugh one may walk away in safety. It is

not safe to be seen in the state of collapse which follows the

overstrain.

The killing of live creatures or even men has always been abhorrent

to me. I am not sure of having murdered anything bigger than a crow

with a broken leg, who had to be knocked out with a stone as an act

of mercy. Not being a sportsman I may not advise on the use of

weapons for sport.

[Sidenote: Range weapons]

WEAPONS. There are three weapons used only by range horsemen. The

lasso, known on the range as The Rope, consists of a noose which is

spun by a delicate play of the thumb, thrown to its length, and the

strain taken by saddle and horse as it catches a running beast. We

share this practice with the ancient Peruvians, Sarmatians,

Sagartians, and Scythians, and the modern Tartars of the Asiatic

steppe.

The bolas are three egg-shaped weights connected by as many plaited

strings with a rawhide rope, and thrown like the riata to catch wild

animals. This instrument belongs to Patagonia and the Argentine

pampas.

{177}

[Sidenote: The stock-whip]

The stock whip. This is an Australian development of the switch. It

consists of an 18-inch wooden tapering handle, a keeper of kangaroo

hide, a 10-foot thong of kangaroo hide in a tapering 12 or 16 plait,

an 18-inch tail of green hide, and a plaited cracker of sewing

cotton. At a range of twenty feet one flick knocked a revolver out

of my hand and lashed my wrist to the thigh, making me a disarmed

prisoner, yet causing no more pain than the brush of a fly's wing.

It convinced me as to the usefulness of this weapon.

III. THE WAYS OF RANGE HORSEMEN.

On one occasion it was my privilege to assemble seventy horsemen

whose united experience of the stock-range covered the grass lands of

Asia from Mongolia to Hungary, Eastern and Southern Africa, all

states of Australasia, Patagonia, the Argentine, the Llano, and every

state and province of the open pasture in Mexico, the United States

and Canada. Among us we compiled a brief text defining our ideas of

range as distinguished from civilised horsemanship. The text was

printed as a chapter on "The Horse" in "The Frontiersman's Pocket

Book" (John Murray), which I compiled and edited on behalf of the

Legion of Frontiersmen. The present volume {178} is merely an

application of these range principles to the study of horses and

horsemanship.

The pretension of range horsemen as a class is to earn a living by

the use of cheap working horses, riding with a weight-distributing

equipment and pack transport, while we base our mobility upon a herd

of remounts.

[Sidenote: Pleasure horsemanship]

For pleasure horsemanship our feeling is one of admiring envy. No

men are better able to appreciate the incomparable gallantry and elan

of the hunting field, especially in Ireland, the beautiful spectacles

afforded by racing, horse shows, and tournaments, the grand pageantry

of state functions in European capitals. Even such pretty futilities

as Portuguese bull-baiting and the Haut Ecole of France appeal to us

as horsemen. As to military horsemanship we have an unbounded

admiration for the fine driving of the Royal Horse Artillery, and the

obstacle riding of the Mexican Regular Cavalry. On the other hand we

are not stricken with awe at the circus tricks of the Cossack,

although we may be surprised to see a luggage strap used for girth.

Nor are we emulous of the horse-killing man-endurance rides which

used to be considered good sport by European cavalry. We can do the

little circus tricks ourselves, {179} and make our endurance rides

without killing our horses.

[Sidenote: Horsemanship]

Among ourselves we are more critical. The Mexican ranchero for

example wears a revolver on the belt, a sword on the saddle, a silver

bridle, a suit of leather beautifully laced with gold or silver, and

a most prodigious hat. But do these fine feathers make him a fine

bird? Or is the prancing arch-necked horse made sprightly by pinched

shoes and a spade bitt?

By contrast the Boer is the most slovenly of horsemen, both in his

old slop suit and in his flapping gait, but in scouting and fighting

by far the best instructor we ever met, and either as enemy or friend

we love his manhood. If horsemanship is an expression of manhood, we

do not mind the form if we can get the fact. More manhood goes to

the making of one Boer than to a hundred Mexicans.

Searching for the elements distinctive of range horsemanship, as

contrasted with the pleasure, the military and the working

horsemanship of civilization, a few essential things come clearly

into view.

ROUGH RIDING. When a range man is asked if he can ride, as a matter

of course he says "No." But if he really wants to come up against

the champion outlaw horse of the {180} neighbourhood his denial is

not emphatic. Like a professional singer asked for a song, he

excuses himself, and pleads to a certain dryness in the throat, but,

when the money inducements are sufficient, owns up that he thinks he

can ride.

The rough riding of the range is incomparable, but as the broncho

buster is usually smashed internally if not killed outright within

three years of practice, this worst possible method of breaking a

horse is lacking in practical value.

[Sidenote: Rough-driving]

ROUGH-DRIVING. Our rough-drivers are perhaps the greatest horsemen

living, and their feats are the more glorious because there are no

spectators to give the stimulus of their applause. A single example

may be permitted here:

Constable Harty, of D Division in the Royal North-West Mounted

Police, was driving a four-horse team with a waggonette, his

passengers being the Earl and Countess of Aberdeen, Viceroy and

Vicereine of Canada. Fording one of the fiendish Alberta rivers the

near wheeler lay down and drowned herself, while the waggonette, half

afloat, was being tilted in danger of capsizal. The teamster swam

under and with his knife attempted to cut the {181} dead mare out of

harness. Failing in this he climbed up, stood astride with bent

knees on the waggon seat, and lifted the team up the river bank to

safety while the dead mare dragged under the wheels.

[Sidenote: Rough riding]

So varied are the styles in horsemanship that nobody pretends to

leadership, and every man of real experience counts himself a student

rather than a master. Only the other day an Instructor in Equitation

showed me how to trot a horse straight down a steep slope of grass,

explaining it was so good to supple the animal's shoulders. Of

course I always knew I was a fool, but never before had I realized

the abysmal depths of my own ignorance.

So far then as an old fool may be permitted, I venture to submit some

gossip on the average range practice of a day's march in the

wilderness. The equipment for horse and man is already dealt with,

except in regard to packing, a subject which would need a special

volume.

[Sidenote: The art of travel]

In Mounted Police regiments there is a rule that no constable may

travel alone on journeys exceeding a day's march. It is a good rule,

because a chap may get hurt or be left afoot, and so perish for lack

of a helping hand.

It is easy enough to warn a fellow not to travel alone in wilderness,

but quite impossible {182} to take even one's own advice. Most

likely nobody else is going in that direction, or the fellow who

offers his company would make a first-rate stranger. But in any case

three horses will travel better than one, and by changing about one

gets a longer march. That is why one generally travels with ride,

pack and spare mounts. As to the pack, the load at which an average

animal can keep pace with the mounted man is one hundred-and-twenty

pounds, and with such a cargo should not be stopped either by swamps

or rivers, bush or mountains. The weight may seem excessive for one

man's supplies, but it is always worth while to carry a ration or two

of grain.

An advantage of the three-horse method is in the encouragement it

gives them on the trail. They are quick to scratch up friendship

among themselves, are never happy except in company, and running

together may take their man into fellowship.

[Sidenote: The art of buying]

BUYING. So long as the American range was really wild an unsound

horse was palmed off on the nearest townsman, or shot, or turned

loose as worthless. To-day the proposal to buy a horse in any

western town brings forth are amazing collection of relics, cripples,

colts, curios, and criminals. The old timers will {183} not sell

except to horsemen, but when they offer a horse one may buy

blindfold. Except in dealing with real frontiersmen one takes a

horse on approval or not at all.

After the main essentials of a pure heart and four legs, I look for

large eyes with no white showing, and a broad forehead. If a horse

is nervous when approached, he cannot be relied upon in emergencies.

If he is less than seven years of age he is not fully matured for

work which needs endurance. I prefer a gelding as being less

flighty, less apt to break back than a mare. I will add dollars to

get a glutton, close quickly with the offer of a horse in really hard

condition, refuse a rough-gaited trotter as a gift, and cannot be

paid to ride a beast who bucks. As to the 'points' by which a

civilised horseman judges horseflesh, they are all very nice if one

has plenty of money. The prices have trebled since the turn of the

century.

MAKING FRIENDS. There are many little kindnesses which help to ease

the labour of a horse. He has just as much pride as a man in smart

equipment, has vanity enough to relish a glossy coat, to show off in

company, challenge for admiration with gallant carriage of his neck

and tail, and prove himself much {184} swifter than his fellows. Pet

him a little and he will insist upon being fussed with. Give such

dainties as sugar, apples or carrots, and he will ever be nuzzling at

your pockets. His low, soft love call for greeting of a morning is

well worth while for any man to earn. This is not given to the man

who thinks of a horse as "it."

[Sidenote: Saddling and mounting]

THE SADDLING. After throwing the saddle on, pass the hands all over

the blanket under the flaps to see there is no rucking. Lift the

blanket into the arch of the saddle to be sure that no pressure will

rest upon the withers. Shift the saddle aft until quite sure it is

free of the shoulder blades. Girth up, and be sure the horse is not

holding his wind. If there is doubt the off knee in his stomach will

make him relax his lungs.

MOUNTING. The weapon, be it spear or rifle, must be wielded with the

right arm, so the rein is held by the left hand. To secure the rein

with the left hand involves mounting on the near side of the horse.

There is an advantage, however, in departing from universal practice

and training the horse to be mounted from either side. One may be

hurt and unable to mount on the near side when there is peril in

being left afoot.

{185}

THE FIRST MILE. Walking the first mile supples the horse and eases

the harness. A horse who holds his wind can then be butted with the

knee in his stomach while the girth is pulled up to the proper notch

for safety.

[Sidenote: Punishment]

PUNISHMENT. If one thinks of a horse as a little child one cannot be

far wrong. One does not flog a child. Discipline there must be with

horses as with children, or both grow worthless, but punishment is

the surest possible sign of the man's incompetence, for the horse

rarely understands the motive, or understanding becomes mutinous.

Nine times out of ten after punishing my horse I have found out that

I had been myself in the wrong by saddling too far forward and

cramping the shoulder-blades, by some defect in putting on the

blanket, knotting the headrope badly, or failing to watch the

farrier's work in shoeing. The seeming misconduct was due perhaps to

agonizing pain, as in one instance from a hidden ulcer. So when my

horse forgets his manners, loses his temper, or goes badly, I examine

my conduct to find where I am to blame.

It is an outrage and disastrous to the horse's morals to strike him

in front of the saddle. The exceptions to that rule are for great

experts only.

{186}

[Sidenote: The pace that saves]

PACES. Whether the wild horse trots, is not a subject in which the

range horse has given me any guidance. In handling stock he usually

goes on grass and prefers to canter. In travel he usually goes on a

road, and distinctly prefers to trot. From careful watching I doubt

if he likes trotting on grass, as the hoofs are apt to brush and may

stumble against the turf. A canter on road or very hard ground jars

him, and is likely to cause injury to feet and legs.

There are certain artificial gaits most variously named such as the

tripple, rack, pace, and side pace adopted I think under compulsion

of lazy horsemen who find them comfortable. I have known horses

using such gaits to lag miserably until I persuaded them that

trotting was permitted, after which they cheered up and gained in

speed.

As a slow walk tires both man and horse much more than the trot or

canter, it is easy, by riding on the rein and using a little

persuasion, to train an average animal in fast walking.

On the whole then a steady alternation of trot and walk, making the

day's gait about five miles an hour, is the best economy for journeys.

On marches exceeding fifty-five miles a day the canter, trot and walk

become alternate {187} gaits, but journeys must then be broken with

days for rest.

HILLS. Trotting or running a horse down hill is a matter for

high-powered animals. With ordinary horses the down slopes must be

reserved for walking, the level and upward slopes for trotting. The

longer and steeper hills involve walking, but even in them there are

dips and levels which permit one to vary the pace, nursing the horse

through the march in the least possible number of hours. It is the

flagging, not the brisk day's work, which causes most fatigue.

[Sidenote: Seat]

SEAT. I have seen horses prosper under all the different and

possible methods of decent horsemen, and do not believe that form

makes any difference. From the Red Indians of the plains I learned

to sit skin tight and upright at the trot and canter.

Having no voice to boast of, I test my seat at the various gaits by

singing, and if there is any sign of quivering in the notes, look

well to my grip and balance, lest I jar the horse. His ears express

horror, but his kidneys seem at peace; and I have usually fattened

thin horses on my journeys. The skin-tight seat is that which is

practised and recommended by all range horsemen.

{188}

[Sidenote: Ease]

EASE. General Sir Robert Baden-Powell kindly advised me as follows:--

"Letting men sit side-saddle on a tired horse is the easiest way of

giving it a sore back. At walking gait it is far better for the

rider to dismount and walk. The loup or lobbing canter is the

easiest pace for man and horse. Except a continuous walk, the round

trot is the most tiring. Frequent cantering and walking

alternately--the rider then going on foot--is the way to get over the

ground in going a long distance."

The above note is one of high authority as applying to English

equipment; but I found it received with a certain lack of respect by

men using a weight-distributing saddle. We all sit side-saddle when

we please, or more often ride on one thigh or the other. None of us

have seen sore back except with lean or exhausted horses, worn out

saddlery, or in cases of gross neglect.

The range man does not look upon riding as a formal parade, but likes

to practise circus tricks, or lounge at ease while he smokes, reads a

book, sings, or plays some musical instrument. I have seen the

cowhand wile away the time by eating a quart of pickles. For my

part, a luncheon from the wallets is part of the {189} procedure of

every pack drive, followed by a comfortable nap in the saddle.

Horses often doze at a walk, even, I suspect, at the trot, and a nap

for man and horse adds a great deal to the endurance of both.

As to going afoot, it takes a very steep down hill track to enforce

such a thing upon me. Rumour says that we will walk half a mile to

get a pony from pasture in order to ride a hundred yards on an

errand. But to be afoot is for the range horseman the last depth of

calamity and degradation.

My last experience of this was a traverse of the Canadian Rockies,

when my partner and I rode along the bed and bars of a river until we

were washed away. After that we took to the bush, a wonderful

labyrinth of deadfall, beaver swamp and snowslides, which we managed

to climb through by following the tracks of some wapiti. We had to

work about twenty hours a day, and the four days reduced our clothes

and boots to rags, but our luck was better than that of another party

of four men who tried the same pass that season and were not heard of

afterwards. I will not tempt young travellers by giving them the

name of that pass.

GUIDANCE. While the range man never walks, but makes the saddle his

home, and {190} lives at ease, it would be an error to suppose him

unobservant. In wild countries one's life depends on alertness.

[Sidenote: Scouting]

Few range men trust a compass, which may be lost or broken, is hard

to read at night, difficult to steady at any time, and apt to point

at one's gun. Point the hour hand of your watch at the sun, and half

way to XII is south (for the northern hemisphere). If the sky is

overcast polish a coin or finger nail and hold a match or a pin upon

it vertically. The upright match will cast a shadow made by the

unseen sun.

So much for the rule of thumb, but one's real reliance is on the

indications of the landscape: the reading of trees and bushes as

shaped by the prevalent wind; the reading of rocks or tree trunks for

any mosses or lichens which grow on the side (north for northern

hemisphere) on which the sun does not shine; and sundry other signs

local to different regions.

The constant habit of locating north grows to an instinct. In

Petrograd, as a stranger unable to ask questions or read signs in

Russian, on level alluvial land, in a thick winter night, without

having seen one inch of the route before, I was able to walk by the

shortest {191} cut three and a half miles directly to my hotel.

If it is vital to know north, it is equally important to read

country; to see by the slopes of the ground the direction of streams

and watersheds, and to observe the phenomena of crossing or

converging routes. One learns in time to forecast the nature of the

country beyond the horizon.

[Sidenote: Trail appearances]

Most important of all is the difficult reading of tracks and the

glints on grass, also the movements of birds and animals which in an

arid country are signs for finding water.

For the rest, it is useful to note the tracks on the trail showing

who passed and when.

It is wise, on meeting a man, to observe his horse brands, equipment,

and all the many clues which show who and what he is as distinguished

from what he says. It is a gross breach of taste to ask him a

personal question; but by knowing all about him one may gauge the

value of his trail directions. There is indeed a need for

cautiousness, for not one man in a hundred gives accurate directions

which can be safely followed. In central Colorado there used to be a

lady rancher whose copious trail directions had endangered so many

travellers that, for a radius of two {192} hundred miles, approaching

horsemen were always warned by the neighbours to be deaf to her siren

voice.

GUIDES. Much as I like the savage as a man, I am cautious in

engaging him as guide. On two occasions I arranged that my guide was

to be shot if he showed up at home without my written release.

Knowing that detail, my first guide was a success, but the second

left me to die, and went home without my certificate.

Rather than put one's trust in guides, maps, trail directions, the

compass or any other form of vanity and vexation, it is wiser to rely

on common sense in scouting. And there the indications given by

one's horse are always valuable.

[Sidenote: Scent, sight and sound]

SCENT. It is doubtful if man or horse is ever perfectly healthy in

civilization. Both suffer from chronic catarrh, so that the smaller

animal has to carry and use a handkerchief. Under range conditions

the kerchief is more useful round one's neck, for the nostrils are

dry, and, both in horse and man, the senses are more active. At half

a mile I have smelt a mountain river--like a wet knife. Once, at

about five miles on a windless day my two horses snuffed a fresh pool

and bolted for it at {193} full gallop despite my frantic protests at

their apparent madness. Considering that we were lost in sand-rock

desert, all three of us owed our lives to that small distant smell.

The more vivid perfume of cattle I have caught up easily at

four-and-a-half miles on the wind, but by their conduct I think my

horses had that savour some miles before it reached my duller senses.

I think the scenting powers of a horse are about ten times as strong

as mine.

SIGHT. Although short-sighted, I have, with the aid of eyeglasses,

bringing my vision up to normal, seen waggon dust at sixteen miles, a

colliery smoke at twenty-three miles, and detail of a mountain scarp

at seventy miles in the clear prairie air. So far as I could get any

direct evidence, I never knew a horse to see anything at much more

than a couple of hundred yards. It seems to be only in civilization

where the smells and sounds are bewildering, that the horse becomes

long-sighted up to perhaps a mile.

HEARING. The value of a horse's sense of hearing as compared with

that of a man is very difficult to judge. On a still night I have

heard men's calls from behind double windows at one and a half miles;

and am not at all sure {194} that an average horse beats that. And

yet, judging by the constant signalling of a horse's ears which point

at every sound, I think his sense of hearing catches vibrations above

the register of human ears, and many notes at close range too faint

to impress our senses.

Whatever a horse may smell, hear or see, he points out with nice

gestures of the ears and nostrils which are of infinite value for a

man to read and understand. They convey to the practised eye all

sorts of warnings and useful little hints. It is the training in

peace of the habit of observation which makes the scout for war.

[Sidenote: The fear of shadows]

THE FEAR OF SHADOWS. Once I took a range horse into a forest where

there were flocks of sheep, herded a good deal of nights by cougars

(_Felix concolor_) who prospered on their mutton. These cougars used

to come round my camp, liked it, I think, because there was no

gun-smell, and sang most wonderfully, sitting so near that I could

see the gleam of firelight on their eyes. I liked them, but my horse

would stand astride the fire trembling. I tried to explain to him

that this was vanity, because he was really far too thin to be

edible. While the cougars had nice fat sheep for the asking, why

should they care for horse bones! But all the signs he gave of

loneliness and fear {195} I have seen many a time since then when I

have taken range horses far into the woods.

[Sidenote: Halts]

HALTS. If only to give my horses a chance to stale and, with a

gelding, to make sure that the sheath is clean, I make a short halt

after each two hours. At every halt the genuine horseman throws his

rein to the ground so that a horse will be tripped if he attempts to

break away. Range horses are trained to stand to a thrown rein, and

if necessary are given a sack of earth to drag until they learn the

wisdom in obedience. If one has to tie the horse to anything, a

supple bush is better than a rigid tree, lest he pull back with his

whole weight for the purpose of breaking the rein or rope by which he

has been fastened.

In my short halts I always hold the rein while the horse gets a bite

of grass or a little water. The reason for this is that he may be

suddenly frightened by a snake or a bustling squirrel, and if he

breaks away it might be awkward to be left afoot: so many men have

been left afoot and perished.

In the greatest heat one may water horses fully if they stand knee

deep in pool or stream; but if they drink their fill they go

sluggishly afterwards and need to drink the more. For a man a sip of

cold tea allays thirst better than {196} a pint of water, and for

neither the horse nor the rider is it wise to drink to repletion

until after the day's work.

In lone travelling with a pack horse I always make the day's work in

a single drive rather than waste time unloading and loading the pack

in a day which may prove too brief for the finding of a camp before

dark. The earliest rising, the most urgent driving are needed to

make sure against a dry camp, or being caught in bad ground by the

fall of night.

[Sidenote: The night halt]

THE NIGHT HALT. In country where the grass is eaten for miles

surrounding watering places, or where there is danger from hostile

savages, I always drive on from the evening water until I can camp in

safety on good pasture. Also one needs a margin of time to walk the

last mile or two, bringing the horses in cool at the end of the day's

work.

[Sidenote: For horse-comfort]

Rather than let horses stand shivering in a wet or cold gale, it is

better to march, and keep travelling until shelter can be found.

In great heat it is better to travel at night, but one should be in

camp from about 12.30 to 3.30 a.m., the usual sleeping hours.

As to horses in camp, one must throw them to pasture beyond the

camping place, so as to hear them passing if they attempt to break

{197} back. It may be necessary to hobble or even picket one of them

as a precaution, or if they lack water to hobble all who cannot be

picketed. If any animal is to be hobbled or tied up, the mare comes

first.

In forest, where horses are ill at ease, especially if pasture is

scanty, I hang a bell to the neck of every horse, and camp at some

spot where the back trail can be fenced, then sleep against the gate.

On some occasions I have watched all night.

Where flies are bad, it is kindly to bank a fire with damp herbage

which makes a smoke in which the horses can shelter. It is in forest

and fly country that one has greatest need of a few feeds of oats in

the pack, or even slung to the saddles.

If a horse is sweating and exhausted, I rub him down with whiskey or

any other form of alcohol, because its rapid evaporation cools and

refreshes him. A little alcohol rubbed on the part heated by the

saddle enables one to feed grain even in short halts.

For cold and exhaustion I give sugar, if possible in the water. The

carbon is fuel which enters the blood, and so becomes exposed to

oxygen in the lungs, where its burning produces the heat which warms

the body.

{198}

In hot weather, oatmeal and sugar in water make a refreshing drink

useful to horses as to working humans.

If a horse is leg-weary and stiff, a rub down or massage with

liniment slacks the strung tendons.

[Sidenote: Sores]

SORES. I never unsaddle without making a careful search for water

blisters or any sign of chafing. These found in time can be marked

with axle grease, which registers a black spot on the sweat pad or

the blanket. The blanket can then be folded in such a way as to

relieve the pressure, or a bit of sacking shaped into a ring to

enclose the threatened spot beneath or between the foldings of the

blanket. The same kind of padding can be made under the girth for

the relief of girth galls.

Despite the utmost care, horses in soft condition or when underfed,

or wearing harness which has hardened or warped after long spells of

wet, are liable to sores. I have cured most terrible cases by a

daily practice of riding the patient to sweating heat, then suddenly

unsaddling, and lashing on cold salt water. The various copper

ointments known as gall cures are worth their weight in gold so long

as one works the horse, but have the defect of forming a hard scab

which breaks away before {199} the wound is ready. One abscess

caused by a warped saddle tree defeated me altogether and put the

animal out of action for four months. As to sores in the starvation

of the northern forest, the story would be too terrible to tell.

[Sidenote: Cracked heels]

CRACKED HEELS. In cold weather, if we do not dry our hands before a

fire after we have washed them, we are liable to chapped skin. Wet

followed by cold, especially from muddy ground, causes cracked heels.

The prevention by thorough drying after every wetting may be

impossible and this form of lameness is difficult to cure. A washing

with soft soap, and a thorough drying, followed by packing in grease

is the best range practice I know of, but does not always succeed.

[Sidenote: Feeding]

FEEDING. In making the feed as varied as possible I have fallen into

error more than once. A bran mash, for example, is best when there

is no march on the following day. I made a horse dangerously ill

with scouring by turning him into an abandoned field of green and

standing maize. On another occasion, turning hot, wet, exhausted

horses into a shed for shelter from a storm, I found out too late

that a sack of oats had been spilt upon the floor. The result was

colic.

{200}

Feeding horses to perfection needs a touch of artistry. Small feeds

of grain, for instance, by making the animal ravenous for more,

enable one to double his allowance without stalling him. Salt,

sugar, carrots, apples, help to keep up his interest in life, as

rewards to be earned, and tokens that one really cares for him. If a

horse is scoured a dose of salt water will help him. For colic one

has to lead him about while the pain lasts, and above all things

prevent him from rolling, which is sometimes fatal.

It is long now since I had to dispense with a fire for fear of

advertising my camp to hostile savages, and the old glorious range in

North America is woefully shrinking before the advance of settlement.

The rancher who made the traveller welcome as a guest is replaced by

a surly farmer who takes money for rental of his barn-yard. The

range horseman who used to own the town when he rolled in from the

plains is now considered, as Europe views the gypsy, with suspicion.

One trait of the range rider recalls the past. No man lays a hand on

our horses unless he wants a fight. It is a rule that the horseman

tends his own stock so long as he is able to stand. He must be very

ill or badly hurt before he surrenders that.

{201}

At range stables where there is a dust bath one unsaddles on arrival

to let the horses roll. At town stables where there is no dust bath

one slacks the girths, removes the bitts, gives half a drink, and

some hay. An hour later when the rider is fed he comes back to cool

horses who can be unsaddled without fear of any blisters which might

turn into sores. Then comes full watering, and grain. While the

horse is busy eating, pick out his feet, dry out wet heels, scrape

off mud, and wisp down. After the stall is cleaned, and bedded, and

the manger filled with hay for the night, the horseman is off duty;

but a range man prefers to sleep in the barn loft in order to save

his horses in the event of fire, and be up early with the morning

grain.

IV. RECORDS.

[Sidenote: Records]

Writing without notes or books, it is difficult to recall the records

of long distance riding which form the best tests of endurance, and

so give one a standard of value for man, equipment and horse. Driven

to rely on memory I note first that the historic records are vague,

giving but scanty data. Everybody knows for example that Bucephalus

(Ox-head) the Thessalian charger of Alexander the Great was a horse

of notable endurance, but the question {202} is--what could he do on

continuous journeys? Charles XII. of Sweden rode in a hurry from

Constantinople to Dantzic, but what was the time for that distance,

and was it done by one horse or by reliefs? Dick King, a despatch

rider, made good time on one horse from Port Elizabeth to Port Natal,

but I do not remember his gait for the six hundred miles. Somebody

who was not Dick Turpin, but possibly another rogue of the same name,

made a single march from London to York on a mare called Black Bess,

but that was a horse-killing feat, as much disqualified by decent men

as the Inter-Army horse-killing rides which disgusted the horsemen of

Europe not many years ago.

[Sidenote: Records in civilization]

In the nineties Lieutenant Peschkov, a Cossack officer, rode a Dun

pony from Vladivostock to Petrograd. This at any decent gait is a

world record for a road ride, on a route with hotels at every stage.

But legend makes the gait thirty-eight miles a day for six thousand

miles, and on that I have my doubts. Working across country I found

that my best horse did one thousand three hundred and seventy miles

at twenty-one miles a day; and the next best one thousand and forty

at the same pace; but on the whole trip, made with four successive

{203} mounts, the three thousand six hundred miles took two hundred

days. This works out at the very poor average of eighteen miles a

day But for delays in buying horses the average would have been

twenty-one miles, and I doubt if any horse outside of fairy tales can

do much more on a six thousand mile journey.

Apart from the vagueness and doubtfulness of the stories, the

standard which they set up for comparison seems to be very low as

compared with the annals of range horsemanship. The following

records were made for the most part with half or three-quarter bred

range raised horses, and all with weight-distributing saddles.

[Sidenote: One day rides]

ONE DAY RIDES. A friend of mine, an Australian stockman, with a

weight-distributing saddle, and leading a pack animal, crossed the

state of Victoria from the Murray to Melbourne, one hundred and

forty-three miles by the route taken, covered in twenty-six hours.

A constable of the Royal North-West Mounted Police of Canada with a

forty-two pound stock-saddle on a buckskin gelding, rode from Regina

to Wood Mountain Post, one hundred and thirty-two miles by sunlight,

and the horse bucked him off at the finish.

{204}

On enquiry I found that the trail between Forts Macleod and Calgary,

Alberta, one hundred and eight miles, had been ridden in a day by

most of the Mounted Police and cowboys who happened to go that way.

[Sidenote: Records on the range]

SIX-DAY RIDES. Kit Carson carried military despatches from Omaha to

Los Angeles and back (circa 1841), a lone ride through hostile tribes

of four thousand four hundred miles. When he was resting at Los

Angeles he joined a party of Mexican gentlemen each taking one saddle

horse. The six men rode along the California coast from Los Angeles

to San Francisco, six hundred miles in six days. Only two of the

party changed horses.

Among the Robbers' Roost, and affiliated gangs of Rocky Mountain

outlaws, I found that it was their custom to plant little bunches of

ponies here and there in pasture. When they happened to be in a

hurry they would travel from pasture to pasture, and at each of these

take a fresh mount. Six hundred miles in six days was not unusual

they told me, and, from what the sheriffs said who tried to catch

them, I think that the robbers spoke in moderation. They were much

the most truthful men I have met on the stock range.

[Sidenote: Long marches]

MARCHES WITHOUT REMOUNTS. In the {205} North-West Mounted Police we

reckoned a day's march at forty-two miles for saddle horses. On

Colonel Irvine's three hundred mile march to prevent the North-West

Rebellion of 1885 we carried all fuel, forage and supplies in sleighs

so that the speed was reduced to that of a convoy, but it worked out

at forty-two miles average, ending with sixty-two miles on the last

day.

A two thousand two hundred mile Viceregal tour is said to have worked

out at forty miles a day; but one patrol I rode in of seven hundred

miles only gave thirty-four miles a day for average, even with

occasional change of horses. It was bad, shocking bad, but has it

been equalled by any mounted troops of Europe?

MARCHES WITH REMOUNTS. On the cattle industry a Roundup Outfit is

commanded by the owner or by his foreman. Under him are three

separate departments: (1) The cook, who drives a waggon which carries

the men's bedding and is fitted up as a kitchen. The waggon forms a

moving base to the expedition, and travels about ten miles a day.

(2) The horse wrangler is a herder in charge of the herd of ponies

used as remounts. (3) The working force of cowboys.

Each rider has his own string of ponies {206} usually seven in number

running with the herd.

[Sidenote: Mobility of stockmen]

ROUTINE. Long before dawn the wrangler drives the herd home to the

camp, where two men hold ropes outward from the waggon, making a

rough enclosure in which the ponies are handled. Each rider selects

from his own string the pony he needs for the morning's work. At

noon the herd is run in and he picks out his afternoon horse. At

supper time the herd is run in and he selects his horse for night

duty.

The rider uses his first three horses and his second three horses on

alternate days, keeping the seventh in reserve. These animals are

not fed with grain, but live entirely on the range grass. By

changing his mount six times in each two days he is able to ride on

grass-fed ponies at an average rate of fifty miles a day for a period

of eight months. The distance ridden in this season is 11,150 miles.

{207}

CHAPTER VII.

THE PLEASURE HORSE.

I. THE BENT LEG.

The human mind may be likened unto a stable with horses all in a row.

That strong team Tradition and Custom are overworked. Bias and

Prejudice have plenty to do. Passion and Vice get an occasional

airing, and Vanity has daily exercise. But Reason is kept in his

stall, the master's own mount, stale for want of use. He is not

popular with the other horses, he is not easily ridden, is heavy to

handle, and goes painfully lame from having been kicked too much.

Let us try him:

THE BENT LEG. So far we have traced the straight leg method of

riding from savage life through the Greek practice and that of the

Ages of Armour. We have seen the European war seat and war saddle

adapt themselves to range practice in wild countries, and so become

the basis of outdoor horsemastership.

{208}

[Sidenote: Oriental horsemen]

In sharp contrast to the straight leg and weight distributing saddle

which has always attended the use of the European horse, is the

universal practice associated in all ages with the Bay horse of

Africa, and the Dun horse of Asia. My bits and scraps of reading

present a general picture of the Oriental horseman as highly perched,

with a bent leg and a long reach, preferring light scale or chain

mail to heavy armour, prone to a swift onset, a brisk melée, and

speedy disengagement since the days of the Parthian cavalry down to

the Moslem conquests, and on to the chivalry of India, the cossacks

of Russia, and the hapless Dervishes of the Soudan. From Mongolia to

Morocco across the whole breadth of the Oriental World this high

perch, bent leg and long reach seem to be universal in all ages.

In arid countries the ass and the camel were ridden long before the

pony, and it seems quite possible that their pad saddles were

transferred to the horse without much alteration. My first

impression of this was during a donkey race in Portugal. Our mounts

stood well over fifteen hands, magnificent animals. The saddle was a

broad flat pad like that of women athletes in a circus, and, gripping

its sides with one's calves, the seat was fairly secure. {209}

Anyway a galloping ass is a deal better ride than a bullock. I was

winning the race when my moke, being of the Moslem faith, knelt down

to say his prayers, and I went on alone.

[Sidenote: Eastern stock]

From watching Moors, Cossacks, Jockeys and other bent-leg horsemen I

have an impression that a similar halt of the steed for a moments'

prayer would have the same effect; but that the Spanish Picador,

meanest of the straight-leg riders, would manage to stay in the

saddle.

In the days of armour the gentleman-at-arms wore doublet and trunk

hose, riding light horses for hunting, hawking, or even travel.

Ladies rode also, and there was cantering where the ground permitted.

But I cannot recall any mention of jumping in England until the time

of the Civil War. Prince Rupert escaped a pursuit of heavy cavalry

by jumping. A fugitive cavalier pursued by Roundheads, leapt from

Wenlock Edge.

By this time a few Barbs, and Eastern horses alleged to be Arabian,

had added a new strain to the English stock. Oliver Cromwell, for

instance, a notable breeder before he went into politics, had an

imported sire. The thoroughbred, who is 7/8 Arabian by blood, made

jumping possible.

{210}

In the days of Queen Elizabeth England was still a sheep range,

producing wool as the staple industry, and supporting five million

people. Sufficient grain was raised for feeding the small

population; and to keep the sheep off their crops the people had

invented a fence peculiar to Britain. This fence consisted of an

earthwork of ridge and ditch called a hedgerow. The ridge carries,

and the ditch waters, a row of bushes, trimmed yearly to make it

strong and dense, and known as a hedge. Unlike rigid fences the

hedge may be safely jumped by horses who have the courage.

As the population increased the swamps were drained and forests

cleared for farming and, outside the sheep down, the whole country

was meshed with an intricate small skein of hedges.

At a period when guns were very short of range, and poison was still

dear, the foxes became abundant and destructive, so that a special

hound had to be bred able to run them down. This was a matter of

business until foxes made it a sport, and from about 1740 survived as

sportsmen rather than be extinct as merely vermin. There was no

detriment to the land from hunting on winter fallows; and, but for

the fox, our people would have been {211} driven to invent some other

way of breaking their necks to let off surplus energy.

For rich people there is no cleaner or healthier form of pleasure, no

better training in nerve and all that makes a man.

[Sidenote: Leadership]

The training for leadership among the Germans is a matter of beer and

fencing, among the Americans of office work, among the British of

field sports. Which method is best to save leaders of men from

corruption, and decadence? The mettle of our pastures gives cool

judgment in administration, leadership in affairs, and in times of

peril a sterling worth of manhood proof against disaster.

Far be it from me then to deride the British horsemanship. Any

horseman who can tolerate so slippery and unreliable a contraption as

the English saddle is greatly to be envied and admired.

Always a timid horseman but emulous, I made two attempts to ride the

damned thing, and came to grief without the least delay. The third

try was quite a success, the occasion being a cavalry charge into a

converging fire at point-blank range. I was much too scared to fall

off, and so came to the conclusion that any fool could ride anything

if his attention were sufficiently distracted by a hail of bullets.

{212} After that I went to the best horseman I could find in England

and asked him to explain the merits of his saddle. "The English

saddle," said Lord Lonsdale, "is made for falling off. You see it

throws the rider clear of a falling horse."