THE HORSE
“Would you like to hear some eloquent words written about the horse
several thousand years ago? I take them from the book of Job, the just
man, whose admirable history is related in the Bible.”
“It was Job wasn’t it,” asked Jules, “who was tried by the hand of God,
lost his health, family, all his goods, and was reduced to such misery
that, lying on a dung-hill, he scraped his boils and vermin with a
potsherd? His faith in God gave him back his former prosperity.”
“Yes, my friend. The just man whose faith in God even the direst
misfortunes could not shake has left us these beautiful words on the
horse:
“‘Hast Thou given the horse strength? hast Thou clothed his neck with
thunder? Canst Thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? The glory of his
nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his
strength: he goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is
not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver
rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield. He
swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage: neither believeth he
that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, Ha,
ha; and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains,
and the shouting.’
“Thus spake Job in the ancient days while around his camel’s-skin tent
bounded mares and colts under the shade of the palm trees. Now let us
listen to our great historian of animals, Buffon, who, in his turn,
draws in a few splendid phrases the portrait of the horse.
“‘The noblest conquest man has ever made is that of this proud and
spirited animal that shares with him the fatigues of war and the glory
of battle. As intrepid as its master, the horse sees danger and shrinks
not; it becomes accustomed to the clash of arms, loves it, seeks it,
and is fired with the same ardor. It also shares his pleasure in the
chase, in the tournament, and in racing. But, no less docile than
courageous, it does not let its ardor run away with it; it knows how to
control its impulses. Not only does it obey the hand that guides it,
but it seems to consult that hand’s wishes; always responding to its
touch, it quickens or slackens its pace, or stops altogether, compliant
in its every act. It is a creature which renounces itself to exist only
by the will of another; which by the promptness and precision of its
movements expresses and executes that will; which feels as much as it
is desired to and only renders what is asked; which surrenders itself
unreservedly, refuses nothing, serves with all its strength, wears
itself out, and even dies to obey the better.’ Thus Buffon expresses
himself in regard to the horse.”
“I like Job’s way of saying it a good deal better,” Jules declared.
“I too,” his uncle assented. “To my mind, no one has said it better
than the old author who lived in the land of palms. In a few sublimely
energetic words he paints for us the character of the horse.”
“I’m too young,” said Emile, “to have an opinion on such a lofty
subject; at the same time I will confess, Uncle, that I get lost very
easily in Buffon’s long sentences.”
“In the form in which I have quoted them to you, do not call them long,
for on your account I took the liberty to cut them up into separate
clauses. In the author’s exact words the whole makes but one sentence.
From beginning to end, the sonorous period does not give one a chance
to take breath.”
“All the same, in spite of the cutting, I still lose my way.”
“Let us return then to your uncle’s simple manner of talking. The
appearance of the horse denotes agility combined with strength. The
body is powerful, the chest broad, the rump well rounded, the head
somewhat heavy but sustained by strong neck and shoulders; the thighs
and shoulders are muscular, legs slender, hocks vigorous and supple. A
graceful mane falling on one side runs along the neck; the tail bears a
thick growth of long hair which the animal uses to drive troublesome
flies from its flanks. The eyes are large, set near the surface, and
very expressive; the ears, remarkable for their mobility, point and
open in any desired direction in order the better to catch the sound in
their trumpet-shaped exterior. The nostrils are full and also very
mobile; the upper lip projects and folds over to seize the food,
arrange it in a convenient mouthful, and carry it to the teeth, just as
a hand would. The whole surface of the skin, which is extremely
sensitive, quivers and shakes at the slightest touch. Let us not forget
a characteristic peculiar to the horse and other animals that most
nearly resemble it, such as the zebra and donkey: on the forelegs, and
sometimes the hind ones as well, there is a bare spot, hard as horn,
and known as a callus.
“The horse’s neigh or whinny, as it is called, varies according to the
feelings expressed. The whinny of delight is rather long, rising little
by little, and ending in a shrill note. At the same time the animal
kicks out, but not violently or with any desire to do harm—merely as a
sign of joy. To express desire the whinny is longer, ends on a lower
key, and is not accompanied with any kicking movement. On these
occasions the horse sometimes shows its teeth and seems to laugh. The
neigh of anger is short and sharp. Vigorous kicks accompany it, the
lips are distorted in a grimace, showing the teeth, and the ears lie
close to the head and point backward. This last sign shows an intention
to bite. The neigh of fear is pitched low and is hoarse and short. It
seems to be produced chiefly by blowing through the nostrils, and
slightly resembles the lion’s roar. The animal’s chief mode of defense,
kicking, is sure to accompany it. Finally, the note of pain is a deep
groan, becoming weaker and weaker, subsiding and then coming again with
the alternate inspiration and expiration.”
“So when the horse shows its big teeth and seems to laugh, it wants
something,” Emile broke in.
“Yes, my friend. It is hungry and tired, and it thinks of the repose of
the stable, of the crib filled with hay, of the manger with its savory
peck of oats. Perhaps it has heard the joyful neighing of its mates and
wishes to join them. Horses that are most given to neighing with
eagerness or desire are the best horses, the most spirited.”
“And if they lay their ears back they want to bite?”
“Yes, that is their way of giving notice that they are going to have
revenge for some ill-treatment, by biting.
“In our talk on the Auxiliaries, I have already told you of the
remarkable structure of their teeth; in particular I showed you how the
horse’s molars, or grinders, are arranged so as to grind the tough
fodder like mill-stones. A very hard substance called enamel, capable
of striking fire like flint, covers the teeth and extends into the
underlying and less resistant mass of ivory, forming on the crown of
each molar a number of sinuous folds. These hard folds constitute a
kind of strong file which tears in pieces the blades of forage when the
opposite molar is brought into play. Need I go over all this again?”
“No, Uncle,” replied Jules; “we all remember how ivory wears away by
degrees, but the folds of enamel cap this softer substance and keep the
molars in a proper condition for crushing the food.”
“Then I will continue by showing you how by examining a horse’s
incisors we may learn the animal’s age. These incisors are six in
number in each jaw. They are accompanied in the upper and often also in
the lower jaw by two small canine teeth having the shape of pointed
nipples. Beyond these, and until the row of molars begins, the jaw is
toothless, and this part is called the bar.”
“I know,” broke in Louis; “it is in the bar that the bit is placed with
which the horse is guided.”
“Let us return to the incisors. The two in the middle of the jaw are
called the first or central incisors; the next two, one on the right
and the other on the left of the first ones, are called the second
incisors; finally, the two last, one on each side, are called the third
incisors. Remember these names; they will save us the trouble of
roundabout expressions.
“A few days after birth the central incisors show themselves in each of
the foal’s jaws. In one or two months the second incisors appear, and
in six or eight months the third incisors pierce the gum. These are the
first or milk teeth, as they are called. When the animal is between two
and a half and three years old they fall out and are replaced by the
second teeth, which make their appearance in the same order as the
preceding ones: first the central incisors, then the second incisors,
and lastly the third incisors. The three pairs succeed one another at
intervals of about a year. I will add that the milk teeth are whiter
and narrower than the others. You already see that by examining the
incisors and noting whether they are first or second teeth we can tell
the age of a young horse; but there are other distinctive marks which
we must now learn.
“Here is a picture of the longitudinal section of a horse’s incisor. In
the lower part, or root, of the tooth is a cavity occupied by the nerve
which gives sensitiveness to the tooth and which carries to it, in the
blood, the materials for its growth and maintenance. The upper part, or
crown, likewise contains a depression, which is called the pit or
cavity of the crown, and is filled with blackish matter. A layer of
enamel covers the outside of the tooth, folds over the crown, and
extends into the cavity, the walls of which it lines. The rest of the
tooth is composed of ivory.
“From this structure you will see that the enamel, continuing
uninterruptedly from the outside to the inside, forms a sharp ridge on
the edges of the coronal cavity. But this condition does not last long
and is found only in incisors of recent formation. In fact, by the
grinding of the teeth one against another when the animal chews its
forage, the edge of the enamel first crumbles, then wears off little by
little, and finally disappears altogether, leaving the ivory exposed on
the top of the crown. This friction always going on, the coronal cavity
or pit becomes less and less deep until at last there is nothing of it
left. The upper face of the crown is then flat instead of hollowed-out
as it was at first. This gradual obliteration of the hollow or pit in
the crown of the incisor, whether in the first or in the second set of
teeth, furnishes a means of determining the horse’s age. I have just
told you when the milk teeth make their appearance; I will now add what
is to be said about their wearing down. The central incisors of the
first set of teeth are worn down so that their crowns are flat in ten
months, the second incisors in one year, and the third incisors in from
fifteen months to two years. Let us next consider how the horse’s age
may be determined at a later period.
“I here show you a picture of the incisors of the lower jaw. What do
you see that will help you to estimate the horse’s age?”
“I see in the first place,” answered Jules, “that the teeth are not all
of the same age. The two in the middle, the central incisors as you
call them, are newer, since the cavities in their crowns are in good
condition, with their sharp edges of enamel. The others are older;
their crowns are blunted by friction; in fact, they are a good deal
worn down.”
“Are all six of the same cutting?”
“Evidently not, for if they were, the middle incisors would show the
most wear, as they come first; but exactly the opposite is the case.
Since they are quite new and those on each side are already worn, they
must belong to the second cutting.”
“That is quite right. Now find the animal’s age.”
“Let me think a moment. I have it. When the horse is between two and a
half and three years old the shedding of the milk teeth begins. The
first to be replaced are the central incisors. The jaw you show me has
these teeth of the second set quite new. Consequently the horse is
about three years old.”
“The answer leaves nothing to be desired: the horse is in fact three
years old. Now, Louis, what have you to say about this jaw that I next
show you?”
“Here, too, the teeth are of different sets, since the central incisors
and those next to them are less worn than the others. Moreover, the
second incisors are newer than the middle ones, as can be seen from
their sharper edges. These second incisors are second teeth; so are the
central incisors, which are a little worn because they appeared the
preceding year. The third incisors, which show the most wear of all,
are milk teeth.”
“All that is correct. And the animal’s age?”
“It must be four years old. At three the second set of central incisors
has grown, and now at four come the incisors next to them.”
“Your opinion is mine too: the horse is four years old. Now it is
Emile’s turn. I will ask him to examine this third picture of a horse’s
jaw, and I hope he will show his usual perspicacity.”
“These teeth,” said Emile after some study, “are too large to be milk
teeth. All six belong to the second set, and as the newest are the
outside incisors the animal must be a year older than the preceding
one; that is to say, five years.”
“Very good, Emile,” applauded his uncle. “You have handled the case
like a master. At five years the entire second set of incisors has
pushed through and it is too late to learn anything by comparing teeth
of first and second sets; henceforth the degree of wear in the
different incisors is our sole guide. Thus at six years the coronal pit
in the central incisors has entirely disappeared, while it is still
plainly seen in the third incisors. Finally, at eight years these
latter are worn down so that their crowns are smooth. It is then said
that the horse no longer shows its age by its teeth. Nevertheless an
expert can still detect, on the surface of the incisors as they become
more and more worn, certain marks that enable him to estimate, at least
pretty nearly, the age of the horse up to the twentieth year and
beyond.”
“That must be a difficult undertaking,” commented Jules.
“Very difficult; therefore I will not dwell on it any longer.”