How to drive a colt from pasture.--How to drive into a stable.--The
kind of halter.--Experiment with a robe or cloak.--Horse-taming
drugs.--The Editor's remarks.--Importance of patience.--Best kind
of head-stall.--Danger of approaching some colts.--Hints from a
Colonel of the Life Guards.
HOW TO DRIVE A COLT FROM PASTURE.
Go to the pasture and walk around the whole herd quietly, and at such a
distance as not to cause them to scare and run. Then approach them very
slowly, and if they stick up their heads and seem to be frightened,
stand still until they become quiet, so as not to make them run before
you are close enough to drive them in the direction you want them to go.
And when you begin to drive, do not flourish your arms or halloo, but
gently follow them off, leaving the direction open that you wish them to
take. Thus taking advantage of their ignorance, you will be able to get
them into the pound as easily as the hunter drives the quails into his
net. For, if they have always run in the pasture uncared for (as many
horses do in prairie countries and on large plantations), there is no
reason why they should not be as wild as the sportsman's birds, and
require the same gentle treatment, if you want to get them without
trouble; for the horse, in his natural state, is as wild as a stag, or
any of the undomesticated animals, though more easily tamed.
HOW TO STABLE A COLT WITHOUT TROUBLE.
The next step will be, to get the horse into a stable or shed. This
should be done as quietly as possible, so as not to excite any suspicion
in the horse of any danger befalling him. The best way to do this, is to
lead a broken horse into the stable first and hitch (tie) him, then
quietly walk around the colt and let him go in of his own accord. It is
almost impossible to get men who have never practised on this principle
to go slowly and considerately enough about it. They do not know that
in handling a wild horse, above all other things, is that good old adage
true, that "haste makes waste;" that is, waste of time--for the gain of
trouble and perplexity.
One wrong move may frighten your horse, and make him think it necessary
to escape at all hazards for the safety of his life--and thus make two
hours' work of a ten minutes' job; and this would be all your own fault,
and entirely unnecessary--_for he will not run unless you run after him,
and that would not be good policy unless you knew that you could outrun
him, for you will have to let him stop of his own accord after all_. But
he will not try to break away unless you attempt to force him into
measures. If he does not see the way at once, and is a little fretful
about going in, do not undertake to drive him, but give him a little
less room outside, by gently closing in around him. Do not raise your
arms, but let them hang at your side, for you might as well raise a
club: _the horse has never studied anatomy, and does not know but that
they will unhinge themselves and fly at him_. If he attempts to turn
back, walk before him, but do not run; and if he gets past you, encircle
him again in the same quiet manner, and he will soon find that you are
not going to hurt him; and then you can walk so close around him that he
will go into the stable for more room, and to get farther from you. As
soon as he is in, remove the quiet horse and shut the door. This will be
his first notion of confinement--not knowing how he got into such a
place, nor how to get out of it. That he may take it as quietly at
possible, see that the shed is entirely free from dogs, chickens, or
anything that would annoy him. Then give him a few ears of corn, and let
him remain alone fifteen or twenty minutes, until he has examined his
apartment, and has become reconciled to his confinement.
TIME TO REFLECT.
And now, while your horse is eating those few ears of corn, is the
proper time to see that your halter is ready and all right, and to
reflect on the best mode of operations; for in horse-breaking it is
highly important that you should be governed by some system. And you
should know, before you attempt to do anything, just what you are going
to do, and how you are going to do it. And, if you are experienced in
the art of taming wild horses, you ought to be able to tell, within a
few minutes, the length of time it would take you to halter the colt,
and teach him to lead.
THE KIND OF HALTER.
Always use a leather halter, and be sure to have it made so that it will
not draw tight around his nose if he pulls on it. It should be of the
right size to fit his head easily and nicely; so that the nose-band will
not be too tight or too low. Never put a rope halter on an unbroken
colt, under any circumstances whatever. Rope halters have caused more
horses to hurt or kill themselves than would pay for twice the cost of
all the leather halters that have ever been needed for the purpose of
haltering colts. It is almost impossible to break a colt that is very
wild with a rope halter, without having him pull, rear, and throw
himself, and thus endanger his life; and I will tell you why. It is just
as natural for a horse to try to get his head out of anything that hurts
it, or feels unpleasant, at it would be for you to try to get your hand
out of a fire. The cords of the rope are hard and cutting; this makes
him raise his head and draw on it, and as soon as he pulls, the slip
noose (the way rope-halters are always made) tightens, and pinches his
nose, and then he will struggle for life, until, perchance, he throws
himself; and who would have his horse throw himself, and run the risk of
breaking his neck, rather than pay the price of a leather halter? But
this is not the worst. _A horse that has once pulled on his halter can
never be as well broken as one that has never pulled at all._
But before we attempt to do anything more with the colt, I will give you
some of the characteristics of his nature, that you may better
understand his motions. Every one that has ever paid any attention to
the horse, has noticed his natural inclination to smell everything which
to him looks new and frightful. This is their strange mode of examining
everything. And when they are frightened at anything, though they look
at it sharply, they seem to have no confidence in their eyesight alone,
but must touch it with their nose before they are entirely satisfied;
and, as soon as they have done that, all seems right.
EXPERIMENT WITH THE ROBE.
If you want to satisfy yourself of this characteristic of the horse, and
to learn something of importance concerning the peculiarities of his
nature, &c., turn him into the barn-yard, or a large stable will do, and
then gather up something that you know will frighten him--a red blanket,
buffalo robe, or something of that kind. Hold it up so that he can see
it, he will stick up his head and snort. Then throw it down somewhere in
the centre of the lot or barn, and walk off to one side. Watch his
motions, and study his nature. If he is frightened at the object, he
will not rest until he has touched it with his nose. You will see him
begin to walk around the robe and snort, all the time getting a little
closer, as if drawn up by some magic spell, until he finally gets within
reach of it. He will then very cautiously stretch out his neck as far as
he can reach, merely touching it with his nose, as though he thought it
was ready to fly at him. But after he has repeated these touches a few
times, for the first time (though he has been looking at it all the
while) he seems to have an idea what it is. But now he has found, by the
sense of feeling, that it is nothing that will do him any harm, and he
is ready to play with it. And if you watch him closely, you will see him
take hold of it with his teeth, and raise it up and pull at it. And in a
few minutes you can see that he has not that same wild look about his
eye, but stands like a horse biting at some familiar stump.
Yet the horse is never so well satisfied when he is about anything that
has frightened him, as when he is standing with his nose to it. And, in
nine cases out of ten, you will see some of that same wild look about
him again, as he turns to walk from it. And you will, probably, see him
looking back very suspiciously as he walks away, as though he thought it
might come after him yet. And in all probability, he will have to go
back and make another examination before he is satisfied. But he will
familiarize himself with it, and, if he should run in that field a few
days, the robe that frightened him so much at first will be no more to
him than a familiar stump.
We might very naturally suppose from the fact of the horse's applying
his nose to everything new to him, that he always does so for the
purpose of smelling these objects. But I believe that it is as much or
more for the purpose of feeling, and that he makes use of his nose, or
muzzle (as it is sometimes called), as we would of our hands; because it
is the only organ by which he can touch or feel anything with much
susceptibility.
I believe that he invariably makes use of the four senses, SEEING,
HEARING, SMELLING, and FEELING, in all of his examinations, of which the
sense of feeling is, perhaps, the most important. And I think that in
the experiment with the robe, his gradual approach and final touch with
his nose was as much for the purpose of feeling as anything else, his
sense of smell being so keen that it would not be necessary for him to
touch his nose against anything in order to get the proper scent; for it
is said that a horse can smell a man at a distance of a mile. And if the
scent of the robe was all that was necessary he could get that several
rods off. But we know from experience, that if a horse sees and smells a
robe a short distance from him he is very much frightened (unless he is
used to it) until he touches or feels it with his nose; which is a
positive proof that feeling is the controlling sense in this case.
HORSE-TAMING DRUGS (?).
It is a prevailing opinion among horsemen generally that the sense of
smell is the governing sense of the horse. And Baucher, as well as
others, has with that view got up receipts of strong smelling oils, &c.,
to tame the horse, sometimes using the chestnut of his leg, which they
dry, grind into powder, and blow into his nostrils, sometimes using the
oils of rhodium, origanum, &c., that are noted for their strong smell;
and sometimes they scent the hand with the sweat from under the arm, or
blow their breath into his nostrils, &c., &c. All of which, as far as
the scent goes, have no effect whatever in gentling the horse, or
conveying any idea to his mind; _though the acts that accompany these
efforts--handling him, touching him about the nose and head, and patting
him, as they direct you should, after administering the articles, may
have a very great effect, which they mistake for the effect of the
ingredients used_. And Baucher, in his work, entitled "The Arabian Art
of Taming Horses," page 17, tells us how to accustom a horse to a robe,
by administering certain articles to his nose; and goes on to say that
these articles must first be applied to the horse's nose, before you
attempt to break him, in order to operate successfully.
Now, reader, can you, or any one else, give one single reason how scent
can convey any idea to the horse's mind of what we want him to do? If
not, then of course strong scents of any kind can be of no use in taming
the unbroken horse. For, everything that we get him to do of his own
accord, without force, must be accomplished by conveying our ideas to
his mind. I say to my horse, "Go-'long!" and he goes; "Ho!" and he
stops, because these two words, of which he has learned the meaning by
the tap of the whip and the pull of the rein that first accompanied
them, convey the two ideas to his mind of _go_ and _stop_.
It is impossible to teach the horse a single thing by the means of scent
alone; and as for affection, that can be better created by other means.
How long do you suppose a horse would have to stand and smell a bottle
of oil, before he would learn to bend his knee and make a bow at your
bidding, "Go yonder and bring my hat," or "Come here and lie down?" The
absurdity of trying to break or tame the horse by the means of receipts
for articles to smell at, or of medicine to swallow, is self-evident.
The only science that has ever existed in the world, relative to the
breaking of horses, that has been of any value, is that method which,
taking them in their native state, improves their intelligence.
EDITOR'S REMARKS.
The directions for driving colts from the pasture are of less importance
in this country where fields are enclosed, and the most valuable colts
wear headstalls, and are handled, or ought to be, from their earliest
infancy; but in Wales, and on wastes like Exmoor[47-*] or Dartmoor, the
advice may be found useful.
Under all circumstances it is important that the whole training of a
colt (and training of the boy who is to manage horses) should be
conducted from first to last on consistent principles; for, in the mere
process of driving a colt from the field to the fold-yard, ideas of
terror may be instilled into the timid animal, for instance, by idle
drumming on a hat, which it will take weeks or months to eradicate.
The next step is to get the colt into a stable, barn, or other building
sufficiently large for the early operations, and secluded from those
sights and sounds so common in a farm-yard, which would be likely to
distract his attention. In training a colt the squeaking of a litter of
pigs has lost me the work of three hours. An outfield, empty barn, or
bullock-shed, is better than any place near the homestead.
It is a good plan to keep an intelligent old horse expressly for the
purpose of helping to train and lead the young colts. I have known
horses that seemed to take a positive pleasure in helping to subdue a
wild colt when first put in double harness.
The great point is not to force or frighten a colt into the stable, but
to edge him into it quietly, and cause him to glide in of his own
accord. In this simple operation, the horse-trainer will test himself
the indispensable quality of a horse trainer--_patience_. A word I shall
have to repeat until my readers are almost heartily sick of the
"_damnable iteration_." There is a world of equestrian wisdom in two
sentences of the chapter just quoted, "he will not run unless you run
after him," and "the horse has not studied anatomy."
The observations about rope halters are very sound, and in addition I
may add, that the mouths of hundreds of horses are spoiled by the
practice of passing a looped rope round the lower jaw of a fiery horse,
which the rider often makes the stay for keeping himself in his seat.
The best kind of head-stall for training colts is that delineated at the
head of this chapter,[48-*] called the Bush Bridle, to which any kind of
bit may be attached, and by unbuckling the bit it is converted into a
capital halter, with a rope for leading a colt or picketing a horse at
night.
The long rope is exactly what Mr. Rarey recommends for teaching a colt
to lead. Every one of any experience will agree that "a horse that has
once pulled on his halter can never be so well broken as one that has
never pulled at all."
The directions for stroking and patting the body and limbs of a colt
are curious, as proving that an operation which we have been in the
habit of performing as a matter of course without attaching any
particular virtue to it, has really a sort of mesmeric effect in
soothing and conciliating a nervous animal. The directions in Chapter V.
for approaching a colt deserve to be studied very minutely, remembering
always the maxim printed at p. 57--_Fear and anger, a good horseman
should never feel._
It took Mr. Rarey himself two hours to halter a savage half-broken colt
in Liverpool, but then he had the disadvantage of being surrounded by an
impatient whispering circle of spectators. At Lord Poltimore's seat in
Devonshire, in February last (1858), Lord Rivers was two hours alone
with a very sulky biting colt, but finally succeeded in haltering and
saddling him. Yet his lordship had only seen one lesson illustrated on a
very difficult horse at the Duke of Wellington's school. But this
operation is much more easily described than executed, because some
colts will smell at your hand one moment, and turn round as quick as
lightning, and plant their heels in your ribs if you are not very
active, and don't stand very close to them. On the directions for using
the whip, p. 55, with colts of a stubborn disposition, I can say
nothing, never having seen it so employed; but it is evident, that it
must be employed with very great discretion.
The directions for haltering are very complete, but to execute them with
a colt or horse that paws violently, even in play, with his fore-feet,
requires no common agility. But I may mention that I saw Mr. Rarey alone
put a bridle on a horse seventeen bands high that was notoriously
difficult to bridle even with two men assisting in the operation.
In reference to the hints for treating a colt in a little work from
which I have already quoted, a colonel in the Life Guards says, "The
great thing in horsemanship is to get your horse to be of your party;
not only to obey, but to obey willingly. For this reason, a young horse
cannot be begun with too early, and his lessons cannot be too gradually
progressive. He should wear a head-stall from the beginning, be
accustomed to be held and made fast by the head, to give up all four
feet, to bear the girthing of a roller, to be led, &c." But if all this
useful preliminary education, in which climbing through gaps after an
old hunter, and taking little jumps, be omitted, then the Rarey system
comes in to shorten your domesticating labours.
"A wild horse, until tamed, is just as wild and fearful as a wild stag
taken for the first time in the toils.
"When a horse hangs back and leads unwillingly, the common error is to
get in front of him and pull him. This may answer when the man is
stronger than the horse, but not otherwise.
"In leading you should never be further forward than your horse's
shoulder: with your right-hand hold his head in front of you by the
bridle close to his mouth or the head-stall, and with your left hand
touch him with a whip as far back as you can; if you have not a whip you
can use a stirrup-leather."
FOOTNOTES:
[47-*] See page 215--"The Wild Ponies of Exmoor."
[48-*] Made by Stokey, North Street, Little Moorfields, London.